#avatrice fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

possibilistfanfiction · 1 year ago

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surgeons au - when they get engaged?

[@gohandinhand hbd pt2 lol // ao3]

‘chief superion?’ dr. alvarez says, poking her head into your office and looking more frazzled than you expect and much more frazzled than you ever want to see any of your doctors, especially your head of ortho. ‘do you, uh — do you have a moment?’

you never have a moment, but you close your computer and nod, motion for her to come sit.

‘actually, i… can you come with me? it’s for…’ she sighs. ‘please?’

it worries you, instantly, because this would never happen if things were business as usual, if everything was running smoothly. ‘what’s going on, dr. alvarez?’

she hesitates. ‘it’s ava,’ she finally admits after a few seconds.

you’ve spent decades perfecting the art of looking calm when you are very much not, but this tests you immediately, the jolt of panic that shoots through your body. when silva had joined your residency program, he had frustrated you beyond measure: you thought her unserious, impatient, selfish — the only reason you had any patience to begin with is because jillian had recommended her so warmly after ava’s time as her doctoral candidate. but you were so, so wrong — about her work ethic, her overwhelming compassion, her deep bravery and even deeper capacity for love. beatrice, from even before she had matched with your hospital, had been your favorite in a way that you trusted her to, one day, take over your program and continue to make sure it’s the best in the world — even better, you’re certain. she’s unshakably calm under pressure, good with patients and colleagues alike, a skilled surgeon and even more skilled teacher.

but ava is special in a way that feels too close to even say — your mentee, the incredible leader of next generation of neurosurgeons and researchers: miracle after miracle, delivered with a bravado and a kindness that’s impossible to teach.

so you nod, stand and grab your cane with the steadiest hands you can manage. camila leads you, silently and quickly, clearly also trying to act calm, to the nearest staff bathroom to the OR, and you open the door and then see ava sitting on the small bench there, slumped over a little to one side. normally, ava never stops moving, always fidgeting, gesturing, greeting you with a wave and a daily attempt to get you to come up with a secret handshake with her. but now, ava’s face is set in a pained grimace and her body is noticeably still.

‘hey, dr. s,’ they say, trying to smile, but it doesn’t work.

‘hello, dr. silva.’ you feel caught in no-man’s land for a moment, with ava so still and camila hovering worriedly.

‘so, i, uh. well, first of all, my surgery went great. secondly, please don’t tell bea until we know what’s going on.’

‘ava —‘

‘— i can’t move.’

you don’t have any comforting thing to say: you’ve seen ava’s scans over the years, especially when her back has flared before; you know about how jillian is always working on more effective injections, better tech. you hear about it when you visit her lab for business, and you also hear about it over quiet dinners at either of your houses, with the lights low and her voice taking on a sadder timbre than the determined, professional clip when she’s talking only of science, not of love too.

so instead you nod and walk toward ava, crouch down with only a few clicks in your knee — you’ll take it. ‘numbness? tingling?’

��i —‘ ava’s voice shakes and she takes a deep breath, steadies herself. ‘i can’t feel anything. it’s — there’s just nothing.’

you go through a few more questions and she answers with what you can tell is honesty: she’d been in pain lately but nothing out of the ordinary, especially with the winter weather rolling in; there wasn’t anything concerning before operating, or else she certainly would’ve postponed; after she finished — eight hours of concentrating and microscopic movements later — when she sat down, things degraded quickly from there.

‘i had my intern page cam,’ they say, ‘because i just — bea is going to panic and go into worst-case-scenario mode, and i don’t know if it actually is worst-case-scenario or just, you know, a passionate flare-up.’

all of you can guess that this is not a normal flare, but, ‘okay. let’s get an mri then. but i don’t want to move you without a brace and a backboard.’

ava pouts.

‘you know i can’t justify just helping you transfer to a chair right now.’

‘yeah, but it doesn’t mean i have to like it.’

you place a tender hand on the top of her head and she leans into it, just for a moment: a comfort, quiet and small and, you imagine, as much as she can accept right now.

‘alright,’ ava says, sniffling. ‘let’s get this show on the road.’

you would never take away ava’s autonomy, especially not now, but when you show her the scans — the worst worst-case-scenario results — she bites her bottom lip, clearly trying not to cry, and you say, ‘can i page dr. choi for you?’

ava looks toward the ceiling in frustration, in fear, in anger, in grief. ‘yeah,’ she says eventually. ‘yeah, i want her here.’

it’s a risky surgery, one that even you feel unsure about: if things go wrong, or, really, even if they go right, ava could have worse chronic pain and irreversible paralysis. beatrice accepts those risks steadily when you talk to her privately, when camila is doing one final pre-op update of ava’s vitals, her mouth set in a firm line, jaw clenched tightly.

the risks that shake both of you are much worse: too much blood loss, stroke, a lack of oxygen to the brain. you don’t want to say them, let alone think them about ava, but they both deserve to know, to choose.

but, ‘there’s no other options, are there?’ beatrice says, finally sitting down and putting her head in her hands, running a hand over her hair and then sitting back in the stiff chair, slumped, horrified.

your silence is the only answer she needs, because she’s brilliant and there’s nothing else you can say: you will do everything in your power. she knows that.

‘just — i love him.’

‘i know,’ you tell her. ‘i do too.’

she nods. ‘okay,’ she says, steeling her resolve as she looks to ava’s room. ‘okay.’

‘hey,’ ava says, ‘can you scoot where i can fully see you with this stupid neck brace on?’

even without being able to move, even scared out of her mind, ava glares at you. it makes you want to smile, the fight that sits in her bones.

beatrice sits carefully on the side of ava’s bed fully in her line of sight. ‘what do you need, my love?’

ava smiles softly. you wonder, briefly, if she feels the grief of not being able to touch her partner, always so tactile. ‘don’t pretend this couldn’t end really badly, please.’

‘ava.’

‘bea.’

beatrice frowns, staring down at their linked hands, held tightly even if ava can’t himself.

‘i’ve lived way longer and better than i ever thought i would,’ ava says.

‘and you’ll have plenty of good time left,’ beatrice says, stubborn even still.

‘well, i hope so,’ ava concedes. ‘but i just — i gotta ask you something, just in case.’

beatrice swallows, clearly fighting back tears, and nods.

‘there’s a ring in my tan purse, the one i never use.’

beatrice does start to cry then; she shakes her head.

ava’s smile is so, so sad. ‘i was waiting for, like, the perfect moment or the perfect plan. which you still deserve, but, well.’ she shrugs with her jaw clenched in pain. ‘i can’t get down on one knee right now, but i know you’ll like the ring.’

‘i — i’ve known,’ beatrice admits, which has them both laughing through tears. beatrice dries ava’s cheeks first, then her own.

‘and you didn’t say anything?!’

‘i knew you wanted to ask. also, i was just looking for a spare mint; it didn’t seem fair to ruin your surprise for such a ridiculous reason.’

ava shakes her head. ‘that’s very kind.’ and then, ‘so, what do you say then?’

‘i, um — i have a ring too, in my winter pack.’

ava grins. ‘so that’s a yes?’

‘yes, ava,’ beatrice says, then leans forward to kiss him softly. ‘of course it’s a yes. as soon as you can, i’ll marry you. i’ve wanted to for years.’

‘wow,’ ava says. ‘okay, cool. sweet. it’s a yes from me too, obviously. also — is it a big diamond? family heirloom?’

beatrice laughs, despite it all. ‘i thought a diamond band might suit work better.’

‘hot,’ ava tells her. ‘well, when i wake up, i expect it.’

‘i’ll send lilith to rifle through all our belongings as soon as i can.’

ava sobers. ‘i wish i could feel you.’

beatrice cups ava’s jaw gently, her thumb grazing over her cheek. ‘i’m here.’

‘i love you,’ ava says.

‘i love you so much, ava silva.’ beatrice smiles, watery and terrified and sorrowful and grateful. she kisses ava, who leans her head up as best she can with a neck brace on. ‘in this life.’

ava nods, sniffles, and then looks at you, resolved, determined. ‘let’s do it.’

‘promise me,’ ava says, loopy from the drugs already administered in her IV but not asleep yet, ‘that you’ll take care of her if things don’t work out.’

‘things will work out.’

ava shakes her head. ‘we both know they might not.’

you smooth your hand over ava’s hair. ‘you are both loved beyond measure,’ you say, and ava takes it in.

‘well, try your best not to fuck it up.’

you laugh, and ava grins, and then her eyes flutter closed.

you explain to beatrice — now changed into joggers and a hoodie you’re sure was once ava’s — her alma mater not even close to beatrice’s — since it’s the middle of the night, lilith sitting stiffly beside her — that ava is alive but there were complications: too much blood loss, low oxygen levels. her spine is stabilized and you think — you hope — that part, at least, was successful, but you’re just not really sure if ava will wake up — or, if she does, what her cognitive function will be, who she’ll be.

beatrice takes it, just for a moment, like a physical blow, but then she nods. ‘thank you,’ she says, quiet and polite without fail, but lilith looks on, concerned.

‘we’ll monitor him closely in the neuro icu,’ you say, ‘and hope for the best.’ you don’t think beatrice has prayed in years and years, but there’s a rosary, probably lilith’s, clenched in her hand.

‘okay,’ she says, and follows you quietly there.

even though beatrice is a surgeon, seeing ava hooked up to so many monitors, drains and leads and an oxygen cannula in her nose, seems to give her pause, slightly unsteady on her feet — just for a moment, but enough for you to think nothing of it when you take her in your arms and hug her tight. unlike ava, who is always physically affectionate, beatrice has been reticent for as long as you’ve known her. but she sinks into it this time, letting out a shaky sob while you rub her back, and then steadies herself eventually.

she sits down by ava’s bedside, faithful as always, and brave, and fishes out a box from her pocket, opens it and then slips a beautiful ring onto ava’s left hand. ava’s hands are cold, you know, because you made personally sure that she was comfortably settled in bed; but beatrice just holds steady, brings it to her lips, kisses the cool, still skin there.

she murmurs something — please wake up; please don’t leave me; i love you, you’re not sure.

you’re technically both done with your shift and also behind on so much paperwork, but you settle down at the nurse’s station and watch ava’s vitals as beatrice prays.

jillian brings you breakfast early the next morning, kissing your forehead in a show of affection that you both rarely allow at either of your workplaces. but she loves ava too, for years now, even longer than you, and so she takes you by the hand and leads you into her room. beatrice is asleep on mary’s shoulder, shannon bringing coffee for everyone. there certainly aren’t this many people supposed to be allowed in an icu room, but it doesn’t stop anyone because it doesn’t really matter: whenever a nurse comes in to change a dressing or an iv, you all stay out of the way. it’s quiet, small conversations only. you think ava would probably hate it — the lack of stupid jokes, beatrice’s bright laugh, mary and lilith’s fondness not at all masked by their snark.

you take turns getting beatrice to eat; you sleep lightly. eventually jillian makes you shower, changing out of your scrubs and into comfortable slacks and a soft sweater she’d brought you.

it stays like this for two days: so many people from the hospital dropping by to see how ava’s doing, to drop off flowers, to check in with beatrice too. ava’s kindness is remarkably present even when he’s not fully; being returned tenfold. you don’t even ask or say anything, just make sure that beatrice’s shifts are covered by your other cardio attendings, and so she waits, sentinel.

and then, just as beatrice is about to doze off again, 46 hours after you’d finished surgery, ava groans. beatrice shoots up like she’s not sure it happened, a specter too good to imagine.

‘ava?’ she asks hesitantly.

it seems like a herculean effort, and you wait with bated breath, but then ava fights and opens her eyes. ‘hey bea,’ she says, weak and rough but coherent, aware, sure.

beatrice smiles, immediate tears running down her cheeks. ‘hi.’

ava lifts her left hand — a miracle in itself — an inch or so off the bed, but easy, natural, and sees the ring there, beams. ‘hot.’

beatrice kisses ava’s forehead, her cheeks, her mouth — joy, everywhere.

you walk ava down the aisle, almost a year later — it was slow going, at first, and then more and more progress in physical therapy, beatrice’s steadfast reassurance through even the most frustrating, painful days. but now you’re here, ava smiling at your matching canes.

‘wouldn’t be here without you,’ he says, in his wispy, beautiful white dress and immaculate makeup.

you smile, hug her to you. ‘it’s an honor.’

you walk her down the aisle, steady and easy, both of you, and then watch as she stands, grinning at an already emotional beatrice. visible below her hair that falls just at her jaw, the newest scar along ava’s neck — from your scalpel, as careful and neat as you could — has faded; is still fading; has healed.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡#sorry but everything is fine!!!! fluff coming up in the next few prompts! lmao #if there's one thing abt ava tho she WILL make a joke at any time!#i’m an english major idk what’s wrong w ava but who cares this isn’t the new england journal of medicine

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jtl07 · 4 months ago

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Happy Holidays JT! Im not sure if you write sequels (or kinda sequels) to your prompts, but your fic with genderfluid!Ava was too cute. So I would love Avatrice with genderfluid!Ava with the word prompt: "Snowman".

hey anon nice to see you again! happy to revisit genderfluid!Ava tho i must admit that this came out light on actual gender stuff because i was giggling too much as the first thing that came to my head was the below first line. hope this is alright!

“What big balls you have!”

Beatrice rolls her eyes as Ava continues to pack the snowman - snowperson? Ava had pondered aloud, snow-bro, gender neutral? - with snow and clothes and various decorations, giggling all the while with the halo’s glow peeking out from their jacket. The street is empty though and there’s more than enough Christmas lights decorating their house and front porch that they can explain it away.

“Why yes indeed, that’s a carrot in my pocket. But I’m also very happy to see you.”

“Should I be concerned?” Beatrice calls out from where she’s working on her own sculpture, raises an eyebrow at Ava. “Am I going to have to fight a horde of snow-bros for your honor?”

Ava giggles as they finish affixing the carrot. “I dunno, that sounds pretty fun. Maybe we could set up a whole scene and invite Camila over for target practice or something.”

Beatrice smiles and shakes her head, not disagreeing, just wholly fond. “Anything you want, darling,” she says, wrapping her arms around Ava when they hop over and lean back into Beatrice.

The halo is warm against Beatrice’s chest and while the fingers Ava slips into the edges of Beatrice’s gloves are freezing cold, Beatrice doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver. Instead, she embraces it all, holds them tight, wraps them all in joy and gratitude, just as Ava has taught her to do.

#writing shenanigans with jt #avatrice #just a bit of (snowy) fluff

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call-me-maggie13 · 2 years ago

Text

Diana’s giggle drifts through the kitchen from the dinner table, Rich’s deep voice interrupted by Mary, Shannon, and Beatrice arguing over a board game. Ava knows Beatrice is reading the rule book, she has a certain tone that she only uses when she’s reading directions or rule books. Shannon cries out sharply and the booklet tumbles through the air into the kitchen.

Ava picks it up, sets it on the counter and leans to find Shannon trying to lick Beatrice on the forehead while Mary holds her arms against her sides to prevent her from escaping Shannon’s torment.

"Children, the lot of ‘em." Martha shakes her head fondly, Ava helps her clear the dishes from the table. She takes the place beside Martha over the kitchen sink, drying and stacking the dishes while Martha washes. The quiet is filled with laughter and soft chatter from the next room and something more, something Ava doesn’t have a word to describe but it’s light and it’s warm and it makes her eyes wet and her throat tight.

"Are you okay?" Martha stops scrubbing to search Ava’s eyes.

"Yeah, I’m good. I just - " she shrugs, she doesn’t know the right words. "I keep thinking how lucky Diana is that she gets holidays like this. I didn’t have this growing up and it means a lot that she does."

If she leans just right, she can see Rich teaching Diana how to make shadow puppets with her hands. Diana isn’t following along at all, though Rich is carefully folding her fingers. She catches a glimpse of the back of Beatrice’s head, checking on Diana.

"I’m sorry you didn’t have this as a child, but you have it now. You can’t turn back time and change what you didn’t have before, but don’t let that steal what you have now."

Ava nods and returns to drying the dishes in silence, trying to memorize the way Diana’s laughter blends with Shannon and Beatrice arguing. The ache in her chest builds and builds until she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to breathe around it.

"Ava?" Beatrice is leaning into the kitchen, hanging on the doorframe and grinning. "Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry. I spaced out a bit."

"You don’t have to apologize. I said Mary and Shannon want to know if they can take Diana to look at the Christmas lights? There’s a drive through light show they want to show her."

"Yeah, she’ll love that." Beatrice disappears in a flurry, her voice floating through the open door.

"She loves you." The glass plate slips out of Ava’s hand, falling to the floor and shattering at her feet.

"Fuck, I’m so sorry."

"Are you alright?" Beatrice is beside her before Ava can even stoop to pick up the pieces. "Hey, let me get it, you’re going to cut yourself."

"I’m sorry," Ava repeats and Beatrice frowns and brushes the hair from her face.

"It was an accident, you have nothing to apologize for. What’s important is that you’re not hurt. Come ‘ere." She guides her carefully over the glass shards, kicking a path clear. She checks Ava’s palms for injury, tracing them with her thumbs so tenderly Ava’s heart aches. When Beatrice is satisfied, she smiles and disappears, reappearing with a broom and dustpan. "Hey, why don’t you take a break, I can take over here."

"No, it’s okay. I’m okay." Beatrice looks unsteady.

"Are you certain?" She’s cleared the glass away and closed the distance between them. Her breath is warm on Ava’s face, soft as a butterfly wing. When Ava nods, Beatrice hesitates.

"I’m good, Bea. Promise." Ava could melt into the floor under Beatrice’s steady gaze. Ava tilts into her, thumps heavily into her chest and buries her nose in the crook of her neck. She can feel Beatrice’s smile against the top of her head, hear her steady heart beating in her chest, smell the coconut lotion she uses on top of something so raw and distinctly Beatrice.

Beatrice doesn’t pull away. Beatrice never pulls away, she always waits for Ava, holds her as long as she wants to be held. Beatrice gives as much affection as Ava is willing to take. She’s always there when Ava needs her, even if Ava doesn’t realize it.

Ava’s throat is raw, chest sore and achey like she’s been sick. Perhaps she has. She has no other way to explain away the glaringly obvious truth that she’s in love with her best friend.

She’s never considered the possibility that her best friend loves her back.

"Are you sure you’re alright?" Ava knows she has tears in her eyes, but she is okay.

"Yeah, thank you."

"For what?"

"Just. For being you. Thank you."

"I wouldn’t know how to be anyone else." It’s soft and taunting, but there’s a rawness in her words, a vulnerability no language could ever encapsulate.

She lingers in the doorway until Ava shoos her away with a laugh, turning back to Martha when they’re alone again.

"You… umm… what you said… you - you meant it?"

"I know my daughters, Ava. And that one? She’s head over heels for you. She would give you the moon, if you asked. She loves you and she loves your little girl."

"How… umm… how do you know?" She wishes she didn’t sound so desperate, but she doesn’t want to hide it anymore. She’s overflowing and she doesn’t have anywhere else to hide it. There’s too much inside her, it’s seeping out at the seams. She’s been trying so frantically to ignore it and, when it became impossible to ignore, to stifle it.

She can’t be in love with Beatrice. Beatrice is smart and beautiful and successful, Beatrice is going to change the world. The only thing Ava has ever done right is Diana. The rest of her life is meaningless.

"She’s never brought anyone home before. We always offered, always asked if she wanted to bring anyone, and her answer was always no. She called me in August and asked if you and Diana could spend the holidays with us.

"And she lights up when she sees you or talks about you. Hell, I can even tell when she’s thinking of you because she has this - this look that is reserved for you. Just you."

Martha gives Ava the last dish, hands covered in soapy water and eyes distant.

"When she first came to us, she was in bad shape. She had an emptiness in her that Rich and I worried we’d never be able to fill. Her parents rejected her and threw her out, she had to leave the only home she’d ever known with nothing but the clothes on her back and a backpack of whatever items she’d thought important.

"She got her light back, a little. With some time and some love. Shannon tried so hard to nurture that flame. But she was just a kid, she couldn’t fix everything. She didn’t always know the right words to say or the right things to do. But she did her best, and I think Beatrice knew that. And Rich and I tried, but Beatrice didn’t talk to us. Not like with Shannon. Not like she does now. Even on her best days, we only got glimpses of the girl you see, Ava.

"You make her happy in a way I think she never thought she could be."

"I don’t do anything, though. I’m not special. I’m not - "

"You’re enough, Ava." Martha wipes her wet hands on a dish towel before taking Ava by the shoulders, her palms are still damp but Ava doesn’t mind. "She doesn’t care about whatever you think you need to be worthy of her. She chose you. She chose you and she chose Diana and she’s not going to walk away from that. Beatrice is a very deliberate person, she is careful and conscious of every decision she makes. She guards her heart with everything she has. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Ava shakes her head, her chest tingles and her head spins and she has to brace herself against the counter because she’s scared she will fall over.

"She gave you her heart, Ava. The little girl who never believed in love pulled her heart from her chest and gave it to you in a box tied up with a ribbon. She went against everything she believed and gave you herself in every way you will take her. Over and over again, she has chosen you. She has given you herself time and time and time again. She won’t give that up, not ever.

"Rich wants me to give you his usual if you hurt my daughter, you’ll regret it macho man routine but I don’t think you will. I think you’ll protect her heart as fiercely as your own. I trust you with my baby’s heart. And I really hope you do too."

Ava doesn’t have a response. What can someone say to that? No words will ever be enough to express the exhilarating terror that Martha’s words filled her with. Her bones are buzzing and her skin is tingling and her head is spinning and she wants to go to Beatrice.

Martha gives her a polite smile before excusing herself. Beatrice comes looking for Ava when she doesn’t follow. Ava is staring blankly at the countertop, palms pressing her shoulders to her ringing ears.

"Hey." Beatrice tucks the hair behind her ear, tracing the line of her neck to her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Is this real? Are you real?"

"I believe so." Beatrice steps closer, twists a lock of Ava’s hair around her finger. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I’m good. I’m - I don’t know. I’m so happy, I’m exhausted. If that makes sense."

"Do you want to go to sleep? I can text Shannon to see if they’re okay keeping Diana tonight and we can go to bed, if you’d like?"

"Can you just…" Ava sighs, she doesn’t know the words she’s looking for. "Can you just be here right now? We can do that in a minute, I just want to be here with you for a bit." Beatrice nods and brushes a kiss against Ava’s temple when she curls around Beatrice.

Read more beneath the break or here!

Ava wakes to the sound of laughter drifting through the crack in the door. She’s alone in bed, but Beatrice’s side is still warm. She ignores the sharp pang in her chest, presses her palm into the indention where Beatrice had slept beside her.

There’s a picture frame on the bedside table, one Ava is certain wasn’t there when they first arrived. The frame is uneven, sloppily colored marker on cheap wood, covered in cartoon animal stickers. It screams Diana.

"Oh, you’re awake."

"Mornin’." Beatrice crawls back into bed with her, presses a kiss against the top of her head when Ava cuddles into her.

"I wanted to be here when you woke, sorry."

"You’re here now." Ava rolls onto her, settles when she’s almost entirely on Beatrice. She’s rewarded with a chuckle and back scratches.

She had every intention of staying awake, but when she wakes the second time, the sun is bright in the window and Beatrice is asleep under her. She starts to pull away, only Beatrice squeezes her tighter and whines.

Ava’s been stuck in worse places.

Ava doesn’t save movie ticket stubs or press flowers between books to save them forever, she’s never wished she could freeze time to preserve a moment just a little longer. She's never been sentimental in that way.

Not until Beatrice.

She finds herself wishing she could barter with Father Time to give her just twenty more seconds with Beatrice every day, just twenty seconds more of her warmth and serenity. Twenty seconds to admire the way her freckles dance when she smiles and her eyes shine when she speaks.

"I can feel you staring." Beatrice smiles and rests her chin on the top of Ava’s head. A deep breath, a soft sigh, a heartbeat warm beneath Ava’s palm.

"I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so damn beautiful." Beatrice makes a soft whiny noise in the back of her throat and her cheeks flush and, holy fuck, Ava was not expecting that and it was so cute and she’s suddenly hot, so hot, she’s sweating, she’s melting.

"Have you seen yourself?" Ava could kiss her. Ava wants to kiss her. If she’s not careful, Ava’s going to kiss her.

God, what do her lips feel like?

"Mama?" Yes, good. Ava can’t kiss her if she’s taking care of Diana. "Up up?"

Diana’s still in her gingerbread man pajamas, she’s dragging her rubber duck blanket and a stuffed monkey. She throws herself against the bed and pulls herself up with the duvet.

"Good morning, baby." Diana climbs onto Beatrice’s other side, mirroring the way her mother is sprawled across her.

For a moment, nothing exists but the three of them. Frozen in amber to be immortalized for the rest of human existence. Ava was never the sentimental type.

Not until Beatrice.

~*~

Beatrice is hidden in the den, tucked between the bookshelves and the wall, chewing on her thumbnail and staring at the same page she’d started over at least five times.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Rich extends a beer to her, she shakes her head. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I’m - I’m not sure. Where’s - "

"Family grocery trip. I wanted to chat with you alone." Beatrice closes her book.

"Am I in trouble?" It’s a joke, but he doesn’t laugh. "Oh. I am in trouble."

"No, no. Why don’t you come over here?" He motions to the couch and Beatrice’s heart sinks to her stomach. The last time she was called to the couch still haunts her.

"Beatrice, can you join me for a moment?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, I just need to chat with you for a moment."

"Oh god. Is this the sex talk? Because I - "

"I know Shannon’s talked with you but there are things I need to make sure you know."

That’s when Martha pulled out the banana and the condom.

"Oh, I really don’t - "

"Beatrice, I can’t tell you not to have sex, but I can show you how to be safe."

"I really don’t think - "

"So I’m going to show you how then I want you to show me, okay? It’s really important that you put the condom on right because that’s the only way to not only prevent pregnancy but also - "

"Martha, please I - " Beatrice wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole, she felt like she was on fire. She could have died. She would’ve rather died than have that conversation with Martha.

"Beatrice, I know you’re uncomfortable, I am too. But this is important."

"No, I need to tell you - "

"Oh god, don’t tell me you’re pregnant? I knew I should’ve had this talk wi - "

"No! I’m gay, I’m really gay. I’m a lesbian. I don’t like boys at all. I’m not interested - "

"I know."

"What?" She knows? How? Shannon would never -

"Don’t worry, Shannon didn’t say anything. I’ve known since the beginning. I didn’t think you would ever come out unless you were pushed."

"How?"

"I know my daughters, Beatrice. I know when Shannon sneaks out and I know when you borrow my car without asking and I know when you both have been drinking. Call it mother’s intuition, call it gut instinct, call it whatever you want. But I know."

"I feel like I have to tell you, if this is another sex talk, Martha already told me and you’re a little late."

"No, it’s not that. It’s about Ava."

God, that’s worse. Beatrice almost wishes he had said it was another sex talk.

"Don’t worry, kid, just take a seat." Beatrice grimaces but she takes the seat, ignoring the pit in her stomach.

"So?"

"Martha already gave Ava an if you hurt my daughter talk, but, from what I understand, Ava doesn’t have someone to do that for her. Am I right?"

"You are correct."

"Okay then. I don’t know her very well, but I have grown quite fond of her this week. She seems like a good person, and I know she makes you happy. She looks at you like you paint every sunset just for her. I don’t know if you’re both pretending there’s nothing between you two, but there is. There’s something real there, Beatrice. Something good."

"I don’t think - I - I’m not sure - she doesn’t have feelings for me."

"And you’re sure about that?" No. She wants to say. I’m not sure of anything except that I’m in love with her.

"You’re not, are you? You know I’m right. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you but you deserve good things, Beatrice. You deserve good things.

"Ava’s a good thing. Okay? She’s smart and funny and kind and she’s in love with you."

"What - what if it doesn’t work?"

"What if it does?" For the first time, she looks at him. Really looks at him. She takes in his weathered face, sees every wrinkle and freckle and scar. He has laugh lines and crows feet and a scar on his left eyebrow from when Beatrice decided she wanted to play lacrosse.

There’s a story for every mark on his face, a lesson that was learned or a memory that was made. His whole life is written in the history of his face, she can see it now. From learning to crawl to walking Shannon down the aisle, from playing hide and seek to finding the love of his life. First kisses and near misses and moments that can’t be replaced. He’s lived an entire life before he met her.

Sometimes she forgets he wasn’t always Shannon’s father, that he was just a boy once, just a boy with braces and a bad perm and an undeniable crush on the girl in his world history class. He was just Ricky. He wasn’t a father, he wasn’t a husband, he didn’t have to be anything for anyone.

He’s lived through things Beatrice will never know about.

"I can’t lose them. I can’t." Now he looks at her like he can see the inside of her soul, like he knows things about her that she doesn’t yet know herself.

"Then don’t. No matter what happens between you and Ava, you can’t walk away from Diana. She depends on you now, so you have to keep showing up for her. Do you understand that?

"I don’t care if Ava breaks your heart and sells the pieces for drug money, that little girl needs you. She needs you, Beatrice. Not me, not Shannon, not Martha. You. You’re her parent now, that’s not something you can just take off and pass to someone else. You have to carry that for the rest of your life. You have to take care of her for the rest of your life.

"If you break Ava’s heart, I’ll understand. But if you break Diana’s heart…" He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to. She knows.

"I think - I think I really like her…" She’s chewing on her lip and peeling off the chapped skin. He pats her knee and offers a gentle smile.

"I know you do, kid. I see how you look at her." He takes a swig of his beer and rests his elbows on his knees.

"I don’t want to lose them. I really don’t want to hurt either of them. Especially Diana. She’s just…" She sighs and shrugs. "She’s a little ball of light. I don’t want to take that from her."

"So don’t."

"It’s not - it’s not that easy, Rich."

"Sure it is. You don’t want to lose them and you don’t want to hurt them, so don’t. I trust you won’t, why can’t you?"

"Because - "

"We’re home!" The door thumps against the wall, keys drop into the glass dish in the entryway, tiny feet patter down the hallway.

"Da!" Diana cheers, launching herself over the coffee table and into Beatrice’s lap. She immediately launches into a nonsensical babbling about their trip to the shops, Ava follows a few moments later trying to coax Diana out of her coat and shoes.

Ava has a Santa sticker in her hair, Beatrice extracts it carefully, ignoring how her face flushes hot when her knuckles brush against Ava’s cheek. Her head spins when Ava’s smiles at her.

Why can’t it be that easy?

She knows, logically, why it isn’t easy. She knows how much she stands to lose if it falls apart, she knows how broken she would be if it doesn’t work.

But what if it all works out in the end?

~*~

"Five!" Ava’s head is swimming, spinning and swirling the Christmas lights into a muddled mess. Her chest is warm, burning like the fire in front of her.

"Four!" She leans heavily into Beatrice’s side. Her skin smolders in every place they touch.

"Three!" Beatrice shimmers, bright and glowing when she smiles at her. Her eyes twinkle and shine brighter than the fireworks in the sky.

"Two!" Their faces flash red, blue, purple, gold. Their breaths puff and mingle between them. They’re close enough to kiss. Ava would barely have to move for their lips to touch.

"One!" Confetti pops and shimmers and falls around them, the fireworks crack and burn but Ava’s view is much more dazzling. Beatrice with her head tilted to the sky watching the glimmering light show, the deep velvet sky broken up by starlight and burning gunpowder. Her smile is easy and crooked, she pulls Ava tighter into her side, the arm around her waist strong and addictive. Ava never wants her to move.

"Happy new year!" Shannon flashes them with a sunshine smile, presses a quick kiss against Beatrice’s cheek before catapulting into Mary’s arms to kiss her.

Beatrice twists, her voice soft and hesitant. Ava can barely make it out over the celebration around them.

"Would you be my first kiss of the new year?" Ava’s heart chisels into her ribs, so loud she’s certain Beatrice can hear it. When she nods, Beatrice cradles her face between her hands, her thumbs ghosting over her cheeks and Ava ruptures. Beatrice ignites a wildfire beneath her skin, blazing and scalding and uncontrollable.

She tilts Ava’s head and presses a feather light kiss against her cheek.

Ava can’t tell if the flashing behind her eyes is from the fireworks or from Beatrice’s lips so close to her own. The world tilts and spins and Ava’s knees nearly give out. She has to dig her fingers into Beatrice’s shoulders to keep from falling. Beatrice notices, her eyes flicker when Ava nearly tips into her and she steadies her, nodding to the back door.

Ava is going to melt through the floorboards. Beatrice leads her slowly up the stairs. She’s speaking, murmuring something quietly that Ava can’t understand — can’t hear over the timpani rhythm thrashing in her ears. She holds the door for Ava, eases it closed behind her and Ava can’t resist anymore.

She presses Beatrice’s back into the door and kisses her, softly, hesitantly. Beatrice only hesitates a moment before she threads her fingers through Ava’s hair, tongue warm against Ava’s bottom lip.

Ava’s ruined, absolutely ruined for anyone else. Beatrice’s kiss is intoxicating, her touch insidious as it burns over her skin. She tastes like sunshine and champagne and forever. Ava could spend the rest of her life in this moment, in the bright, burning moment.

"Ava…" Beatrice husks, breath fanning across Ava’s face when Ava leans in to kiss along her jaw. "Ava, you’re drunk."

Ava hums, continuing her exploration of Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice whimpers when Ava scraps her teeth over her pulse, shivering and biting hard on her lip before she presses her palm into Ava’s sternum. She nudges her, peels Ava off of her.

"Ava, you’re drunk." Her lips are red and swollen and her chest is heaving, eyes blown and dark. "We - I can’t. You’ve been drinking."

"I want this." She tries to lean back into her but Beatrice’s palm keeps her just far enough away. "Bea…"

"You might change your mind in the morning." Beatrice has mostly gotten herself together, her breathing not nearly as heavy as before.

"I won’t - "

"Please," Beatrice finally moves her hand away, lifts it to cradle the back of Ava’s head. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, swirling and bubbling with something Ava doesn’t understand.

"Can I…" Ava steps back into her, pauses a breath away from her lips. Beatrice kisses her again, soft but certain. She rests their foreheads together when she breaks away, neither moves. Ava watches her eyelids flutter, counts the freckles across her nose and cheeks, savors having Beatrice this close. She’s twisted the neck of Beatrice’s sweater around her fingers and she releases it now, tries to smooth the wrinkles.

"It’s fine." Beatrice kisses her cheek, lingers long enough for Ava to fold into her chest, her heartbeat thunders heavy and fast beneath Ava’s hand. "Let’s go to bed, darling."

Neither wants to let go, wants the moment to end, but Beatrice leads them to the bed and slowly untangles from Ava. She helps Ava take off her shoes, gathers their clothes from the floor after they change, and slips into the bed beside Ava. They don’t touch, Ava curls onto her side and stares at the opposite wall and Beatrice watches the fan spin in slow circles.

Ava’s head still spins and her entire body still simmers from Beatrice’s touch, but it’s fading. With every heartbeat, her blood grows colder and her heart squeezes tighter in her chest. She can’t help but wonder if she’s ruined the best thing in her life.

"Bea?" They know each other too well now, they know when the other is asleep and when they’re pretending. When Beatrice hums, Ava rolls herself over and props herself on her elbow. "Are we okay?"

Her stomach roils and churns until Beatrice opens her eyes. She brushes Ava’s loose hair over her shoulder, traces a line down her arm and tugs Ava into her by the wrist, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles.

"Always." Ava presses her ear above Beatrice’s heartbeat. "We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?"

Ava nods, traces shapes onto Beatrice’s sternum, amazed by the goosebumps she raises in her wake. Beatrice’s heart speeds up with every inch she touches. Ava’s doing this to her. Ava’s the cause of the way her heart races and the shiver she tries to repress and the breath caught in her throat when Ava’s finger slips just beneath her neckline.

"Ava…" Her voice is low and warning, she grips Ava’s wrist tightly in her hand and pulls it away.

"Sorry."

"No, you’re not." Ava can practically taste the mirth in Beatrice’s smile, her eyes glittering and light. She’s right and she knows it, taunting even when she drops Ava’s hand and kisses her forehead. "Go to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

~*~

Beatrice doesn’t sleep. She watches the moonlight creep up her walls before it fades and leaves the room bathed in darkness, watches as pale sunlight sneaks through the blinds. She watches Ava’s eyelashes flutter, the easy rise and fall of her breaths, the way her eyebrows knit together and she balls Beatrice’s shirt in her hand, the heavy exhale when Beatrice rubs her back.

She murmurs in her sleep, nonsensical noises intertwined with Beatrice’s name. She rolls away at one point, yanking the duvet with her, but she makes an indignant whiny noise and flips back into Beatrice.

Beatrice shifts onto her side, pulls Ava into her chest and drops her chin on the top of her head. Beatrice wants to slow time to a stop, wants to capture this moment like a firefly in a jar.

For a moment, Beatrice lets the world fall away and lets herself wonder what could be if they didn’t have so much to lose and they were just two women in love. No responsibilities, no obligations, no worries, no fear. Just her and Ava. For a moment, the world shimmers and nothing bad could possibly happen, nothing could hurt them.

The door creaks open slowly and Shannon peeks inside, offers a quick smile and wave before Diana stumbles through the crack.

And the world comes crashing back down around her.

Beatrice slips out of Ava’s embrace and herds Diana back towards the hallway, balancing her on her hip when she holds her arms up asking to be held. Shannon closes the door with the same careful quiet as before. She catches Beatrice by the elbow when they reach the landing at the top of the stairs. She doesn’t have to ask, Beatrice knows her question without needing to hear it. She peels a strip of chapped skin from her bottom lip, offers a quick smile and a head shake before continuing down the stairs.

"You’re quiet this morning." Diana lifts her head sleepily, blinks at Beatrice silently. The silence drops like a stone in her stomach. "Are you okay?" Diana drops her head back against Beatrice’s shoulder with a huff, toying with the neck of Beatrice’s shirt. Beatrice frowns.

"She woke up right before we got you. She’s probably still be waking up." Shannon offers, pats Diana’s back when she slips into the kitchen. Martha smiles at them before offering a plate of pancakes. Beatrice takes one and pulls a little piece off, offering it to Diana. She takes it, but doesn’t eat it, inspects it closely instead.

It’s early. Earlier than Diana is normally awake.

"Did you have a bad dream, baby?" Diana’s bottom lip quivers and she drops the pancake in her hand, presses her face into Beatrice’s shoulder and clenches a fist around the front of her shirt.

Beatrice slips into the den, lifts the blanket from the couch and cradles Diana against her chest while she rocks in the rocking chair. Diana twists around, trying to see the Christmas lights on the tree so Beatrice flips the chair around so she can see them easily. Wraps the blanket around them, searches the surfaces of the room.

Shannon calls her name from the doorway, offers one of Diana’s pacifiers that she accepts gratefully. She waits, tucks herself into the corner of the couch and waits for Diana to fall back asleep before speaking.

"So?" Beatrice sighs and glares at her. "What’s wrong, Speedy?"

Beatrice hesitates, glances down the hallway towards the stairs.

"I think I fucked up, Shan." Her voice cracks and she takes a long, shaking inhale. Shannon is sitting on the coffee table with her hand on Beatrice’s knee before Beatrice can even finish her breath.

"What happened?" Shannon’s inspecting every inch of skin she can see, searching for a bruise or a burn to explain away Beatrice’s tears.

"She kissed me. Last night. And I - " Beatrice shakes her head and shrugs, drops her gaze to Diana.

"You what? Did you slap her?" Beatrice flinches at the accusation, shakes her head forcefully. "Tell her you’re straight? Tell her you’re not in love with her? What?"

"I kissed her back, Shannon." There’s a stinging bite around her words, burning and singeing in her chest.

"Okay…?" Shannon leans back, tilts her head and furrows her eyes. Beatrice waves her hand between them like all the evidence has been presented and Shannon’s an idiot for not seeing what she is. "Okay, I’m actually confused.

"You’re in love with her." It’s a statement, a fact. Undeniable. It’s visible from here to a blind astronaut on the International Space Station. Beatrice can’t deny it.

"Okay so, here’s what I’m getting, let me know if I’m wrong: you’re in love with Ava and you kissed her last night and now you’re freaking out?"

"She was drunk, she didn’t mean it."

"Oh shut the fuck up. That girl has been in love with you since I first met her. Also, she had two glasses of champagne. She was barely tipsy."

Beatrice drops her eyes to Diana who wiggles when Shannon speaks. She doesn’t respond, she knows Shannon’s right but she can’t admit that to herself without getting her hopes up.

"Okay so you kissed and then what?" Beatrice shakes her head and Shannon groans. "You kissed her then went to sleep? You didn’t even talk about it?"

"I told her we could talk in the morning."

"Well it’s morning now, why aren’t you talking? Oh my god, you need to get your ass up there before she wakes up because she’s going to think she fucked up if she wakes up alone." Shannon pulls her from the seat, leads her to the bottom of the stairs and motions up them. Beatrice hesitates, gut churning so hard she thinks she’s going to vomit. "Look. You can’t change what happened, Bea. But you can go up there and tell her you’re in love with her."

Beatrice’s heart pounds so loudly, she worries it will wake Diana. She can see her heart beating against her chest, feel it pressing heavy behind her eyes, thrashing in her ears. She feels unsteady, like the time she had a concussion and the ground felt like water beneath her feet. She knows, on an intellectual level, Shannon is right. But right now, in her aching chest and burning bones and spinning head, it doesn’t matter. Because she let the fire burn too long and now she’s going to lose the forest.

She paces in front of the door, forces herself still and breathes deeply and opens the door quietly. Ava’s sitting up in the bed, legs crossed and holding something in her hands.

"Good morning." Beatrice freezes in the doorway, waiting for the courage to move closer. Ava’s eyes are shimmering when she looks up, frowning when she sees Diana in Beatrice’s arms.

"Is she okay?" Her voice cracks and she clears her throat before repeating herself.

"Yeah, she had a bad dream." Beatrice is rooted in the doorway, unmoving. Ava doesn’t move to her either. "She’s - she’s asleep again now."

Ava nods solemnly, picks at the dry skin on her lips for a moment before turning back to the object in her lap. Beatrice takes a step forward. Then another. And another. She stops at the foot of the bed, ears ringing and heartbeat louder than a war drum.

Ava has a picture frame in her lap, scribbled green and bearing half a book of stickers. If she flips it over, she’d see where Diana had tried to write her name across the back.

Inside, there’s a picture of the three of them. Diana’s hoisted on Beatrice’s shoulders and she pointing at something out of frame, smiling. Beatrice is looking at Ava, smile softer and eyes glimmering. Ava is in front of them, grinning, bright and vibrant as the summer sun. They were on their way home from the park, had stopped to get ice cream even though it was nearly freezing.

It’s Beatrice’s favorite photo. The only one in a frame in her room, the crooked picture frame filling her bones with warm helium that defies gravity around her until she floats above the ground.

"How’d you sleep?" God, this shouldn’t be this hard. How is she supposed to start this conversation?

I’m in love with you and I’ve been in love with you since before we met, it’s you, Ava.

"Fine. You?"

You’re the one I want for the rest of my life.

"Not very well." Ava looks up from the image in her lap.

The heavens and the earth were formed to be compared to you.

"Sorry." Beatrice wants to kiss her again, to flatten the wrinkle between her brows under the pad of her thumb, to tangle her hand in her hair and breathe in her breaths.

Under all forms and under all aspects, I am yours.

"It wasn’t your fault." Ava nods silently and Diana shifts in Beatrice’s arms, they both watch her whine and push against Beatrice’s chest until she settles again, huffing and curling her fingers around Beatrice’s shirt collar.

You are the rising sun which I adore.

Beatrice moves to Ava’s side of the bed, sitting on the edge and waiting for her to check on Diana. It’s simple. Routine. Beatrice rocks her and Ava flattens the wrinkle between her brow with the pad of her thumb and they sit in silence.

You shame the stars with the brightness in your eyes.

"So, last night." Ava tenses beside her, her breath stutters and she pulls away with an awkward laugh.

"Haha yeah. I - um - I don’t remember much. Hope I didn’t do anything weird." Beatrice’s heart sinks and her face falls as she watches Ava tuck her knees to her chest, she bites her lip to hide her frown.

"No, you’re - " Beatrice sighs. "You’re good. You were fine."

I am irrevocably, undeniably, catastrophically in love with you.

Beatrice stands again, moves to the door and invites Ava to breakfast.

"I’m not very hungry, but thank you." Beatrice nods and closes the door quietly behind her.

Shannon is sat at the bottom of the stairs, twirling a paintbrush through her fingers. She looks up when Beatrice starts down to her, her easy smile falling away to furrowed brows. She presses their foreheads together when she reaches her, cradles the back of her head and listens to her cry. She doesn’t shush her, doesn’t tell her it’s going to be alright. She holds her and she waits.

"She lied." This is the unfortunate truth of knowing someone as well as they know each other. "She said she doesn’t remember last night.

"Shannon, she didn’t have that much to drink."

Shannon glances up the stairs before leading Beatrice down them and out the back door. They crunch over the muddled snow and Shannon guides her to their old, run down treehouse.

"If she said she doesn’t remember that means two things." Shannon drapes her arm over Beatrice’s shoulders and pulls her into her side. "One, you did the right thing by stopping last night. If she can’t talk about a kiss, she’s not ready for more than that. And two, she’s at least as enamored with you as you are her."

Beatrice lifts her head curiously, chewing on her bottom lip and trying to fight back the tears.

"She wouldn’t pretend to have no memory about the atom bomb she dropped in your lap if she wasn’t scared it was going to blow you both up." Beatrice sobs and Shannon pulls her back into her chest. She lets her tears soak through her pullover and listens to the sobs Beatrice muffles with her fist.

They sit for a long time in silence, their breaths puffing around them in tiny thunderclouds. The back door opens and someone calls their names, it’s muffled and too soft to make out entirely, but Beatrice knows it’s Ava.

Shannon watches Beatrice when she doesn’t reply, offers her hand to hold until Beatrice exhales heavily and stands. She sniffs and wipes the dirt from her pants and takes a shuttering breath before re-emerging beside Shannon, Diana still tucked carefully against her chest.

Their cheeks are flushed and their fingers ache and Beatrice worries Diana has gotten too cold, but her face is warm and coated in a thin layer of sweat. Beatrice kisses her forehead before following Shannon in through the back door, through the kitchen, and into the den where she eases into the rocking chair and begins to rock.

She can’t be certain if she’s avoiding Ava or if it’s the opposite, but they don’t speak the rest of the day. In fact, they don’t speak until the early hours of the next morning.

Beatrice isn’t asleep, but she’s pretending to be. Ava doesn’t say anything when she sits upright and tucks her knees to her chest.

"Hey." Despite being wide awake, Beatrice’s voice is groggy. "Are you alright?"

Ava hooks her chin over her shoulder to look at her. She’s not crying but she wishes she were. Maybe if she were crying the ache in her chest would ease.

"Fine."

Beatrice shakes her head at her and sits up. "What’s wrong?"

"Tell me I didn’t ruin this." Now Ava cries. A single desperate sob that shakes the bed.

"Ava…"

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know - I know I - I should - "

"Ava." Beatrice’s hand is soft and warm in her own, pulling her gently to face her.

"I’m sorry." Beatrice shakes her head again, cradles Ava’s face in her hands.

"Ava, stop." She’s gentle. Soft. "You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve ruined nothing, Ava."

"I - I lied." Ava pulls away.

"I know."

"I remember last night."

"I know."

"I kissed you." Ava finally lifts her head, eyes wide and red. "I’m sorry."

"Ava," Beatrice sighs and smiles. "I kissed you back."

Ava sniffles.

"I kissed you back." Beatrice cups her cheeks again, glances at Ava’s lips before continuing. "I’m not sorry."

"You…" Ava doesn’t continue.

"Yes, Ava." Beatrice nods. "I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry for loving you."

Ava doesn’t have any words. She doesn’t know what she would say even if she did. She doesn’t know how to put the heat in her chest into words.

Ava thought she loved JC. She thought she loved him so much she had a baby with him. She moved in with him and they were supposed to be a family. Her, Diana, and JC. She was going to marry him.

Loving JC was like loving a hurricane, unpredictable and dangerous. He never hurt her. Not physically. But Ava used to wonder if he took some sick joy in breaking her heart over and over again.

But Beatrice?

Beatrice is safe and kind and tender. Beatrice is careful with Ava’s heart and protective of Diana’s. Beatrice teaches Diana how to make breakfast and tie her shoes, she tucks her into bed and she reads her bedtime stories. Beatrice takes out Ava’s trash because she knows how it hurts Ava’s back to carry it down the stairs and she always walks on the side closest to traffic when they’re walking on the sidewalk, she brings Ava anti-inflammatory medicine and hot tea and a heating pad when Ava’s back is flaring up.

Loving Beatrice is like coming home from a long trip away, like waking up in your own bed after being away for so long. It’s familiar and gentle and secure.

"I kissed you back. And, if it’s alright with you, I would very much like to do it again?"

Loving JC never felt quite right. Ava always felt like she had to work hard to love him, it felt like a chore that she had to do every day. By the time Ava realized she wasn’t in love with him, she was already pregnant. so she stayed. Because she grew up without a dad and she didn’t want that for her baby.

If only she’d known JC wasn’t going to stay. Maybe she’d have left him sooner. Maybe she’d have met Beatrice sooner and this wouldn’t scare her so much.

Loving Beatrice has always been easy. It’s been so easy Ava didn’t know she was doing it at first. It was as easy as breathing. That’s the scariest part. Ava doesn’t have to try to be someone Beatrice loves, she already is.

"Are you sure?" Ava needs Beatrice to make the move, she can’t. Ava can’t be the person responsible if this burns to the ground around her.

"I’m certain, Ava. May I?" Beatrice traces her thumb over Ava’s jaw, feather light and it makes Ava shiver.

"You may." Beatrice doesn’t move so Ava continues, voice trembling and barely a whisper. "Please."

When Beatrice’s breath fans across Ava’s face, Ava shivers again and Beatrice pauses.

"I’m going to kiss you now." She glances between Ava’s eyes when she speaks, her voice steady and low.

"Okay," Ava whispers, eyes fluttering closed when her nose brushes against Beatrice’s.

And, oh. This kiss is nothing like the one before. It’s gentle and slow and Ava feels alight. Every place when Beatrice is touching her, the hand on her cheek and the one at the base of her neck, is on fire.

God, Ava doesn’t know what she was so scared of.

Ava follows her when she tries to break away, gripping Beatrice’s shoulder as she pushes her back into the mattress. Straddling Beatrice’s hips, Ava finally pulls away to kiss along Beatrice’s jaw, finding that spot on her neck that made Beatrice whine last night.

"Ava…" Beatrice whimpers. Immediately Ava stops, pulling away, prepared to sleep on the floor if she’d crossed a line Beatrice wasn’t ready for her to.

"I’m sorry," Ava’s stopped by Beatrice’s hand tangling into her hair, her heart rupturing when Beatrice’s eyes meet hers, pupils blown.

"Don’t be. I was going to tell you not to leave a mark."

Oh.

Beatrice’s hand slides to the small of Ava’s back, pushing her shirt up in her search for Ava’s skin. Ava has to remind herself to breathe before she kisses Beatrice again.

Beatrice’s lips against her skin is addictive, scorching as they move across her jaw to her neck before pulling away abruptly.

"This isn’t going to work." Ava blinks, heart and lungs frozen in her chest, when Beatrice glances to the mattress beside them and grins at her, the hand on Ava’s shoulder moving to her hips and wrapping around them tightly when Beatrice flips them. "That’s better."

Ava drops her head against the pillows and takes a steadying breath, trying to ease the icy tension in her body.

"Is this alright?" Ava nods but Beatrice doesn’t move. "Ava, what’s wrong?"

"I thought…" What does she say? I thought you changed your mind? I thought you were going to leave? It’s irrational. Beatrice watches her gently, one hand stroking Ava’s cheek and the other tangling their fingers together.

"Thought what, darling?" Beatrice probes when it becomes apparent Ava has no intention of continuing.

Ava shakes her head and forces a smile. "Nothing, it doesn’t matter."

"It matters to me."

A series of quick smacks against the door save Ava from having to form an answer, Shannon’s voice calling through the door.

"I have a belated Christmas gift for you two, is it PG-13 in there? I got little eyes I don’t wanna traumatize."

"Ava, tell me." Ava bites her lip before kissing Beatrice softly.

"I thought you changed your mind," Ava whispers. She expects Beatrice to laugh or maybe to get upset, she doesn’t expect Beatrice to soften.

"I’ll never change my mind about you, Ava. Neither you nor Diana. I’m sorry I haven’t properly articulated that to you. I want you, " two louder knocks and Shannon repeats herself, " and I want Diana and I always will. I promise."

"You can’t promise that." JC had promised Ava the rest of his life.

"I can and I have and I will continue to until you believe me."

"You have three seconds to make yourself Disney approved before I’m returning your gremlin child," Shannon threatens through the door after a series of fort rattling knocks.

Beatrice kisses Ava softly once more before rolling off of her and opening the door. Shannon narrows her eyes and glances between them as Diana races past Beatrice and rockets onto the bed.

"You good?" She looks Beatrice over as she speaks and Beatrice assures they are. "Alright, well. Mary and I don’t have a kid yet and we’re trying to sleep, which Diana seems vehemently opposed to so, no more sleepover. You’re welcome."

Diana bounces on the bed next to Ava, spinning and twisting as she giggles.

Shannon offers Beatrice Diana’s duck blanket and stuffed monkey before she wishes them a good night and returns to her room.

Diana bounces and jumps into Beatrice’s arms when she approaches the bed, squealing.

"Bedtime, little one?" Beatrice proposes.

"No! No bed! Play!" Diana throws herself back to flop against the mattress. "We play, mama?"

I love you. Ava thinks as she watches Beatrice talk Diana out of a two a.m. snowball fight. It doesn’t matter that they’re both tired, Beatrice is readily prepared to keep Diana entertained regardless of the hour. I’m going to marry you.

Beatrice whispers something in Diana’s ear and they both look to Ava with the same mischievous smile.

"Whatever it is: my answer is no. No, nope, nada." Ava catches Diana when she throws herself into Ava’s chest while Beatrice climbs onto the bed beside them.

"Diana, now!" They both start to tickle Ava at the same time, grinning when Ava tries to fight them off as she squeals and tries to wiggle away. Diana giggles and flops away, leaving Beatrice with her fingers sprawled across Ava’s stomach.

I want to kiss you. Ava thinks and Beatrice laughs, fingers crawling up Ava’s sides and sprawling over her ribs.

"Then kiss me."

Shit, I said that out loud. Beatrice laughs again and nods at her.

"Did I do it again?" Ava scrunches her face.

"You did." Ava leans into her and groans, Beatrice watching her bemused. "Do you still want a kiss?"

"Yes, please." Ava lifts her head from Beatrice’s shoulder, heart racing when Beatrice leans into her and presses a gentle kiss against the corner of her mouth, pulling away with a mischievous grin.

"Me too!" Diana crawls under Beatrice’s arm and pushes between them, kissing both their cheeks before presenting her face for her kisses.

Beatrice kisses Diana’s cheek before squeezing her against her chest and tickling her. Diana shrieks and squirms, begging Beatrice to stop or Ava to save her. When Beatrice relents and releases her, Diana crosses her arms and pouts.

"No, Dada. Only tickles for Mama," Diana chastises, eyebrows drawn together and head shaking.

"I’m so sorry, patinho, will you ever forgive me?" Beatrice clutches her heart. Diana considers her question for a moment before grinning toothily and answering.

"I cream."

"Ice cream? It’s almost three in the morning, are you sure?" Ava shrugs when Beatrice glances at her. "You know what? Let’s do it. But just this once."

Diana leaps of the bed and thumps to the ground, bouncing to the door and wiggling excitedly while she waits Beatrice.

"Would you like to join us?" Beatrice helps Diana onto her back, Diana’s arms wrapped around her neck and head peeking over Beatrice’s shoulder.

I’d follow you anywhere.

#warrior nun #sister beatrice #ava silva #avatrice #warrior nun s2 #bea and ava #warrior nun season 2 #wn s2 #save warrior nun #warrior nun netflix #warrior nun fanfic #warrior nun fic #babysitting au #babysitter au #fic: like the princess #christmas fluff

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itscappyj · 2 years ago

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Avatrice + bottlecaps

So yesterday we had Bea's little fantasy and it was sweet and soft. And today we have Ava's and it is...neither of those things (rated M).

Ava stretched and yawned, slumping over to rest her chin on her arms as they lay crossed against the bar.

Her shift had just ended and Hans was out back having a break, leaving Beatrice - usually quiet with her head in the books - to tend bar.

Ava could go home, she was going to, she just couldn't quite get her feet to start moving again yet. It had been a long, arduous day and she just needed to sit, just for a moment.

At least, she thinks as she watches Beatrice gracefully spin a bottle into the air to the cheer of the customers beside her, she has a good view.

For someone who spends so little time behind the bar, Beatrice sure does put a lot of time into learning the tricks of the trade. She insists it is for 'dexterity training' but Ava doesn't miss the subtle prideful smile that hides behind her mask.

She sits for a while, until the last dregs of customers are gone and Hans is back cleaning up. The bar now closed, leaving the two of them to finish their shifts in peace.

Ava isn't quite sure why she's still here. Her shift ended an hour ago and Beatrice’s won't end for an hour more. She tells herself she's just tired, that she wants to wait to walk home with Beatrice - the streets dark and unsafe.

It's a poor excuse, even to herself. Neither of them have any reason to fear, both skilled and trained as they are.

But still, she sits, waits and watches, mesmerised by Beatrice’s every move. It's become so normal now that she doesn't even try to hide it anymore, and Beatrice makes no mention of it, only smiling occasionally when their eyes happen to meet. A fast comfort and familiarity borne of being forced into such close proximity.

It's not even an interesting spectacle at this point. Beatrice is simply standing behind the bar, going over the books, her bottom lip pulled in slightly as she concentrates.

Vaguely, Ava hears Hans say something about the stockroom before he disappears from sight.

She watches as Beatrice absentmindedly flips a bottle cap between her fingers. Rolling and spinning, seemingly with no effort at all. Beatrice is not even looking at it but Ava can't tear her eyes away.

She flicks it into the air and catches it neatly between her index and middle finger, long and poised, and there’s no way Ava can keep lying to herself. She knows why she’s still here, why she’s always still here.

Ava thinks she must have made a sound. She's not aware of anything having escaped her lips, but Beatrice’s eyes have shot up to meet her gaze, a question hanging lightly in the tilt of her head, "Ava?"

They stare at each other across the bar and the air grows heavy and thick. Ava can't move, her breaths become shallow and fast, her cheeks grow hot. She tries to speak, to answer but nothing comes out.

Then everything changes in a moment, in a singular glance as Beatrice’s gaze flicks down to her lips, her tongue darting out to wet her own.

Before Ava knows what's happening, she vaults over the counter and captures Beatrice in a searing kiss.

She expects something of shock, surprise, hesitancy, to be pushed away, asked what the fuck she is doing.

None of that happens. Beatrice stumbles back a half step until her back hits the bar behind her but she grabs Ava by the waist, pulling her along with her.

The bottles rattle loudly as their bodies collide with a crash and somehow Beatrice's hands are now in her hair, pulling until Ava’s neck lies exposed and waiting. She feels lips and teeth and hot breath as her brain struggles to catch up to what is happening. To what she just started.

She hears Hans shout out at the noise, asking if they are okay.

"Fine," Ava calls but it comes out strangled and faint, her breath hitching as Beatrice nips playfully at her ear. She pulls back and Beatrice is smirking. Ava clears her throat, "All good, Hans!" She shouts, loud and clear this time as she keeps her eyes locked on Beatrice, their chests rising and falling in gasping breaths.

"The office," Beatrice whispers and Ava can only answer in another kiss, sloppy and fervent as she pulls them towards the stairs.

They stumble, stifling giggles, as they make their way up, hands roaming eagerly. Beatrice kicks the door closed behind them as they stagger, entangled, to the desk.

Ava gasps as Beatrice grabs the back of her thighs with both hands and lifts her onto it as if she weighed nothing. She pulls on Beatrice's hips as she settles in between her legs, close enough that she can feel the belt buckle press into her and she moans, her own hips jerking with the sensation.

"You need to be quiet, darling," Beatrice says, leaning into her ear, low and husky in a voice that has Ava’s head spinning.

She gulps, "I can…I can do that."

Beatrice hums as she traces kisses all the way from her ear down to her collarbone, hands moving under her shirt and just grazing under the bottom of her bra. "I could make it quite the challenge."

She wants to moan again but instead she wraps her legs around Beatrice, keeping her close and her hips start rolling of their own accord, trying desperately to find friction.

Beatrice pulls her head back and looks into her eyes, smiling smugly as she watches Ava writhing, begging in everything but words. She kisses her, pressing in until Ava is forced to lie back on the wooden surface, her arms pinned above her head as Beatrice holds her wrists.

Time seems to stand still for a moment as she lays, lips parted and chest heaving, under Beatrice’s weight, their faces only inches apart. She wants this. She’s dreamed of this for weeks. And in not one of those dreams did she ever believe that Beatrice would want her too.

“Ava?” Beatrice says softly and she feels her hot breath, so close, tickling at her own lips.

“Please,” Ava all but whines and she can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed at the pure desperation in her voice. Not with Beatrice looking down at her with nothing but devotion.

Then Beatrice is moving again. She hears the smallest gasp as Beatrice pulls down her shorts and underwear in one swift manoeuvre. She lifts her head to find Beatrice watching her, awe and unmistakable want in her eyes and then a finger glides though her, bottom to top until it ghosts over her clit and she whimpers, “Fuck, Bea.”

Their eyes remain locked on each other as Beatrice moves slowly, experimentally, marking out every twitch and barely contained sound rising from Ava’s throat.

As two fingers slide inside of her, her head drops back against the desk - one arm clutching the edge of the wood, the other coming up to cover her face.

She arches and writhes as Beatrice worships her. She bites down on her own arm to muffle the screams as Beatrice shifts, making room to use her tongue.

"Ava?"

She looks up to see Beatrice watching her, a pen in one hand and a bottle cap in the other, the bar between them.

"Are you okay? You're looking flushed."

"I'm - uh - you - it's nothing." Ava’s pretty sure she could not string a coherent sentence together right now if her life depended on it.

"Are you sure? I can take you home." Beatrice is still watching her, those intense eyes awash with concern, as she takes a step forwards.

"No!" Ava shouts, entirely too loud, as she jumps off the barstool and onto her feet. She needs to get out of here before she implodes.

Beatrice takes another step towards her, her brows knitting together in confusion.

"You're still here for another hour, right?" Ava asks, swiftly backing away towards the exit.

"Yes," Beatrice answers hesitantly.

"Great! Great, well, I'll uh, be heading back. See you at home, Bea!"

She all but runs and the journey back to their apartment has never been so quick and yet so agonisingly long.

#I'm usually just a fluff boi #don't look at me #warrior nun fanfic #avatrice fanfic #writing prompt

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skyessky · 2 years ago

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Cat Cafe AU complete!

I'm so bad at keeping Tumblr updated... but anyway, the epilogue for my Warrior Nun Cat Cafe AU is up!!

It's been a such a fun ride :)

#ava x beatrice #avatrice fic #ava silva #sister beatrice #cafe au #fluff and humor #fluff

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lexa-el-amin · 2 years ago

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Warrior Nun - Avatrice: Fan Fiction Recs

let's start with favorite authors:

everything by @sunsafewriting is next level. favorite stories are favourable conditions (pirate au!! the pining in this!) and do a flip (ava and bea take care of little diego! so adorable).

seabiscuit! they are all my favorite but if i had to rank them i'd say the thought of high windows (60s AU, Bea is very repressed and Ava very gay), of greater marvels yet to be (Bea is a nun in a church archive, Ava studies theology and falls in love in said archive), pull back the curtain for venus (Bea is an alien sent to earth to explore, she falls in love with Ava, obviously) and if mine, then yours (and so all yours) (switzerland fic, Ava sees Bea naked accidently and has a gay awakening).

@simplykorra is keeping us entertained singlehandely with all her fics, my favorite remains to be let me photograph you in this light (in case this is the last time) (set after season 2, Bea goes back to Switzerland and tries to live her life like Ava wanted her to).

then some tropes etc.:

my favorite switzerland stories are definitely show me something of a reckoning (fake dating!) and the gods we can touch (mutual pining!)

christmas fluff? christmas fluff! Snapshots for the future is set after season one. Bea wants to arange a perfect christmas for Ava, even if they are on the run from Adriel.

tension! pining! Ava and her stupid (and successful) plans to make Beatrice kiss her: Hickey AU and the to do list are the way to go! (honorary mention: To climb a tree by @frenchsoda. Bea is a personal trainer and Ava is very gay for her)

the planets & fates & all the stars aligned (i couldn’t lose) by @possibilistfanfiction (every wlw pairing needs a footy au! Bea and Ava are both professional football players and fall in love, obviously)

Whisks Worth Taking (a Bake Off AU) where Ava is a punny comedian and Beatrice a five star chef and they film a baking show together

can i get your house key? where Bea and Ava are roomates and besties and secretly in love with each other

#warrior nun #avatrice #avatrice fanfic #everyone is free to add their favorites!

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pinechips · 8 months ago

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My Avatrice Fic Masterpost

Multi-chaptered

Welcome to Elysium (on-going) - Pro gamer AU, Rivals with benefits, No angst (E)

Midtown 45th Street (on-going) - Roommate + How I met your mother AU, Avatrice's kids, Angst/Fluff (T)

There Were Glowing Eyes in the Dark - Vampire AU in a modern/fantasy setting, Angst with a happy ending (M)

Would You Be My Wife? - Fake marriage AU, Angst/Fluff (E)

If You Missed the Mistletoe - Hallmark AU, Childhood love, Romantic Comedy, Fluff (M)

Babysitting Miss Beatrice - Modern AU, Babysitter!Ava, Baby!Bea, Angst/Fluff (E)

Rhapsody in Chaos - Roommate AU, Silly, Relationship advice & miscommunication, Fluff (M)

One-shot

If You Missed the Mistletoe (Halloween Edition) - Sequel to the Hallmark AU, Comedy/Fluff (M)

Why Don't We Just Fall - Falling in love with a stranger AU, Inspired by photography, Fluff (T)

I Will Never Be Your Wife - Childhood friends with benefits AU, Angst with a bittersweet ending (M)

How to Measure the Thing Between Us - Modern AU, Dating AI, 1st POV (T)

In the Darkness of Your Embrace - Post S2, Dark!Ava, Sexual coercion (M)

Fractured Realities - Post S2, Dark!Ava(?), Light Angst (E)

In Each Other’s Shoes - Canon-based bodyswap AU (M)

*latest first

#warrior nun #warrior nun fanfiction #avatrice #pinechips fic

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sunshinesickies · 2 months ago

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A late Valentine’s Day fic— Ava would definitely end up doing the most romantic shit Bea has ever seen and they’re not even dating yet 🤷‍♀️ Also lets just pretend they were in the Alps for Valentine’s Day ‘cuz I completely forget what time of year they’re there but it definitely doesn’t seem like winter lol

Italics indicate Ava’s thoughts

Feveruary Day 14— Falling asleep in the wrong place— Avatrice

There, and…perfect! Ava thinks to herself as she put the finishing touches on the surprise she’d planned for Beatrice. It’s Ava’s first Valentine’s Day in years where she actually has the ability to do something, to celebrate it, and she couldn’t be more excited. She’d been planning it for over a week now and she’d strategically made sure Bea was working this afternoon so she could set up the surprise.

Even though she’s never dated someone, (well, JC was nice, but wayyy too short lived to count okay?) she’s always loved the idea of there being a day just for showing those you care about that you love them. She’s been waiting and waiting for the year when she can finally celebrate and tonight she’s going to do just that.

The love she feels for Bea is well, complicated, she’d say. She doesn’t quite know how to label the feelings she’s had for her friend recently but she knows they’ve reached a level of connection in their time here that feels like something deeper. In what way, she’s not totally sure yet!

But hey, it’s still a day to show someone she cares about them and she finally has someone to care about so—lovey dovey couple-y Valentine’s Day be damned, tonight she’s making up her own rules. And her rules state that she can choose to celebrate any kind of love for anyone she wants.

Ava glances at the old clock hung above the small kitchen table. It’s already past five, which is usually when Bea comes home from the bar when she works day shifts. Being the overachiever she is, Beatrice had somehow landed the manager position even though they’ve both been working there for hardly any time at all. It was pretty awesome though because that means she gets to control her own hours, and it means Ava doesn’t get reprimanded too much for being late for most of her shifts.

Ava checks over everything she’s set up once more then checks the time again. 5:23 it reads. Huh. Ava frowns. Bea’s never home this late, the older girl is annoyingly punctual for practically everything she does.

Maybe the bar suddenly got slammed and she’s helping out Hans during a rush. Yeah that must be it. Ava tries to convince herself as she sits down at the table. Or maybe she’d stopped on the way home to pick up some groceries or something.

A couple more minutes pass with Ava anxiously drumming her fingers on the wooden tabletop before she shoots up, deciding it might be a good idea to go to the bar and ask Hans if he’s seen Bea, or better yet maybe she’ll run into her on the home as she makes her way there.

She grabs a jacket and quickly leaves their apartment, trying not to think the worst as she makes the short walk across the small town. As she walks, Ava tries to remember if Beatrice mentioned anything about being home late this morning.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she remembers Bea rushing out of the apartment quickly this morning, not leaving much time for chatting before she’d hustled out the door, leaving Ava still in her pjs. She hadn’t thought much of it then, but it does seem weird now.

Finally, though it didn’t take more than a ten minute walk, she reaches her destination and enters to find the bar surprisingly empty, only a couple people here and there. It’s so calm that Hans appears to be playing something on his phone, no more people to serve, and everything washed and cleaned. Ava smiles at her friend as she approaches the bar.

“Hey Hans! Is Beatrice still here?” She cuts right to the chase.

He glances up at her and offers a quick warm smile before looking back down at his screen. “I think she’s still upstairs.” He motions to the stairs and Ava wastes no time thanking him and quickly jogging up to the storage room which also serves as Bea’s office, well desk basically.

“Bea?” Ava calls out as she reaches the top of the stairs.

The worry that bubbles when she doesn’t hear a response subsides when she rounds the corner to see the girl she’s looking for sitting at her desk. We’ll, sitting is a lose word, she’s more like slumping in the chair and as Ava walks closer, her brows twist in amusement when she sees that Bea appears to be asleep.

She frowns at the sight. Beatrice would never be caught dead falling asleep at work, though she supposes her shift is over so she’s technically not working anymore, but by the looks of it, Ava concludes she’s been asleep for quite some time.

“Hey.” Ava murmurs softly, moving to squat next to Bea’s slumped form. She places a hand to her shoulder, gently giving it a few shakes. “Bea?” Ava tries again, this time earning a sleepy groan from the older girl as she’s pulled from her doze.

“Mmm…Ava?” Beatrice mumbles as her eyes flutter open and her head turns slowly to look at the concerned girl in front of her. Bea groans again, her hand rubbing against her face as she sits up. “Why’re here? What’s…” She starts to talk but her voice is rough and painful, the effort to just those few words forcing her into a sudden coughing fit.

“Woaahhh, hey.” Ava quickly stands up, her hands starting to rub Bea’s back as she doubles over, coughing harshly into her fist. She seems dazed and out of it by the time she finishes and catches her breath. She leans back into Ava’s touch, head swimming and chest aching.

Ava places her hand to Bea’s forehead, heart dropping in her stomach when she feels how hot her skin is. She’s definitely running a fever, and a high one at that. “Umm shit, okay. Bea can you hear me?” Ava asks, trying to hide her panic and she feels her nod against her. Okay that’s good.

“Okay, alright. You’re sick, Bea, I think we should get you home, hmm?” Ava offers and Bea only nods again, not making any movements to get up. Okay, you’ve got this, Ava. Just get her home and figure out the rest as you go. “Alright, c’mon. I’ve gotcha.” Ava puts her hands under the nun’s arms and lifts her easily from the chair. Ha thank you super strength!

Ava hooks Bea’s arm around her shoulders and wraps her own around the sick girl’s waist. Slowly they make it down the stairs and Ava makes sure to tell Hans what’s up before practically dragging Bea’s limp body out into the street. It takes a bit longer to get home now that she’s helping Bea walk, but soon enough they reach their apartment and Ava lets them both in.

“Huh? Ava…what’s this?” Bea asks, poking a red balloon as she takes in the strange sight before her. The entire apartment is decorated with red and pink balloons and kitchen table is littered with food and treats. Right, the surprise! Ava had totally forgotten about it, all her thoughts on Bea and what to do. “Oh yeah, I uh…happy Valentine’s Day?” Ava stammers out, suddenly nervous if Bea would like it.

“I uh, wanted to uh celebrate since I wasn’t able to at St. Michael’s and this isn’t like some grand declaration of love or anything…no I just wanted to let you know I appreciate you and so uh yeah…” She trails off awkwardly as Bea takes it all in. She turns to face Ava an a new surge of panic flows through her when she notices tears shimmering in her eyes. Shit Ava! You made her cry!

“I uh can take it all down if you don’t like it, and obviously I didn’t know you’d be sick…and the more I think about it, it maybe wasn’t a good idea…” Ava rambles but Bea steps closer, taking her hands in her own. “Ava…” She rasps softly. “This…well this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I love it. Thank you.” She hums sincerely and Ava feels a flash of relief slow through her.

Her face twists up into a beaming smile, one that has Bea’s heart beating much faster than she’d like. “Oh, okay! Good. This wasn’t quite how I planned it would go…are you okay? Have you been feeling sick all day?” Ava asks and Bea lets out a tired sigh, nodding.

“Yes. I-I’m alright Ava, just a cold. I felt it coming on yesterday. I didn’t want to worry you. It’s my job to look after the Warrior nun, not her job to worry about me.” She confesses honestly and Ava’s face twists in sadness. “Just your job?” She isn’t sure why that’s the only thing she took from her words, but she thought they had something going here.

“Well, and my pleasure.” Bea adds with a soft smile and Ava returns it. “I-I know you’re not used to people being there for you, but I’m hoping you’ll let me take care of you now? You can get in bed, I’ll make some tea.” She offers shyly, hoping Bea will let her guard down at least for a little while and focus on getting better.

“That sounds lovely, Ava. Thank you.” Bea hums, her face flushing an even darker shade of pink when Ava quickly leans up to kiss her cheek. “Cool, go rest. I’ll make the tea.” She’s already bounded over to the cabinets, looking for Bea’s favorite. A small chuckle escapes Bea’s at Ava’s silly antics and her heart flutters as she suddenly has a thought.

“Hey Ava?” She blurts out before she can stop herself. Maybe it’s her fever, maybe it’s because of the younger girls somehow unknowingly romantic gestures. Ava turns to face Bea who’s lingering in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Wou-would you maybe join me…in bed I mean?” She freezes as Ava just stares at her, slitghly confused. “I’m freezing and I’m pretty sure that halo acts like a space heater…plus I wouldn’t mind the company.” She adds, trying to make up an excuse.

Ava just smiles brightly at her. “Of course, Bea. Whatever you need.” She promises then nods her head to the bedroom so Beatrice will go get in bed. Bea clears her throat, murmuring an ‘okay’ before leaving Ava alone in the kitchen, her heart pounding as she settles herself into the small bed. She can’t believe she just did that.

Little does she know, that Ava’s now out in the kitchen, a huge goofy smile on her face as she continues making two cups of tea. She’d do anything for Beatrice. Even if that means cuddling in a totally platonic way. She rolls her eyes at herself and lets her heart feel a little lighter as she thinks, well, maybe it’s a little more than that.

#sunshinesickies #fluff #sickfic #feveruary #feveruary2025 #valentine fic #warrior nun #ava silva x beatrice #avatrice #ava x beatrice #ava silva #sickfic blog #sick Beatrice

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alms4oblivion · 5 months ago

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the bane of my existence is complete. Chapter 9 of my Avatrice Bridgerton AU is out!

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #ava x beatrice #fanfiction #fanfic #warrior nun fanfic #the bane of my existence #bridgerton au #regency romance #this last chapter is just #fluff and smut #with a happy ending #alms fics

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quietblueriver · 2 years ago

Note

Prompts!

Will you hold my hand?

They can't look at you like that!

Will you hold my hand?

Quick thing #2. Avatrice + Diego fluff. Thanks for the prompt!

She’s been waiting on this for a long time. There wasn’t time or capacity or, really, much to offer in the face of a possible apocalypse, but now that things have settled, that she’s able to live her life, Ava’s also able to help a few other people live theirs.

Nobody gets to enjoy the perks of martyrdom, which Ava guesses is kind of the point, but now that she’s back? Well, she’s cashing in on some of that goodwill and the Church doesn’t seem super eager to fight her. Cam finds Diego easily because he is, somehow, exactly where she’d left him. As soon as they have confirmation and a list of names, Mother Superion makes a call.

Two days later, there’s an address and an assurance of “state-of-the-art facilities” and “hospital affiliation” and “coverage of tuition and all related costs.” It’s what every kid should get, of course, and she thinks she’ll spend a lot of time trying to make that happen, but she feels happy to start here.

Diego is the oldest of the ten kids left at a smaller but still running St. Michael’s. Two nuns are there with them, ancient but, clearing the world’s lowest caretaking bar, not sadistic, and they don’t ask questions or fight when Mother Superion shows up with Camila and Dora and some strange but impressive paperwork, herding the kids into a van.

They call after dropping them off at the new facility, confirming that it is, as promised, excellent in all of the ways that St. Michael’s wasn’t. When Ava hangs up, she curls into Beatrice in their bed and cries for a little while, a steady heartbeat in her ear and a steady hand running through her hair.

“Do you think it would be okay for me to see him?”

Ava feels her response as she says it, voice low and close, “I think he would love to see you, and I think it would be wonderful for you both, if it’s something that you want.”

“I want it so bad, Bea. I just…I don’t want to mess him up. Or, mess him up more, I guess. Y’know, he has a fresh start now. He deserves that.”

The hand in her hair stills as Beatrice shifts slightly so that she can look Ava in the eye. She’s gentle, always so gentle with Ava, as she strokes a calloused finger across her cheek.

“Ava. Darling. He loves you. And you love him. You were there for each other in that awful place.”

“He saw me kill a nun, Bea.”

Her eyes harden. “He saw you protect yourself, and him, from an abuser. He thought you were an angel for a reason.”

She softens again, adds, “It might be a little difficult for him to understand your…change in circumstances.” Ava snorts and Beatrice tilts her head and shrugs the shoulder Ava’s not laying on in acknowledgement of that fucking understatement. “He might have a hard time understanding what happened and why, but more than anything, he’ll be happy that you’re back in his life.”

Ava settles back into her chest and Bea scratches at her back in the way that she loves, pulling up the hem of her shirt just slightly so that she can reach skin. She hums happily and wiggles in appreciation.

“And,” she continues, nails running gradually higher, “he’s old enough to have seen some of what happened over the last year, no matter how hard the sisters might have tried to shelter him. Not that they seemed to be trying particularly hard. In any case, I’m sure Diego understands now more than ever that strange things are possible.”

Bea’s right, of course. She decides, then, that she’ll talk to Mother Superion tomorrow to see what the best way to organize a meeting might be. In the meantime, she has a few other things she’d like to accomplish.

She rolls away just slightly so that she can push herself up and over, straddling Bea’s thighs and leaning forward to undo her bun, balancing with one arm on her shoulder. Beatrice makes a somewhat strangled noise, hands moving to Ava’s hips, and Ava smirks, because yeah she wants Bea’s hair down but it’s not exactly an accident that she’s chosen to do it this way. She presses her chest forward just slightly, feels Beatrice’s breath hot on her clavicle, the almost-whine that escapes her as Ava finishes with her hair tie.

“Has anyone ever told you,” she combs her hands through the loose hair and settles back, “that you’re very, very smart?” Beatrice is not looking at her face. Ava grins, thrills at the blush on Bea’s face when Ava slips a finger under her chin to tilt her head back and redirect her eyes. She doesn’t give her a real chance to answer, kissing her briefly and then dragging her lips down her throat. “And also.” she slips her hands under Bea’s shirt and tugs it up, Beatrice lifting her arms to assist so eagerly that Ava can’t help but breathe out a laugh against her newly available and perfect collarbones. “Very, very hot.”

“Oh?” Beatrice offers, eyes darkening.

“Yeah.” She trails her lips lower, moving her body down the bed until her palms are pressed to the mattress just beside Bea’s hips. She meets Bea’s eyes again, grins. “But show is always better than tell.”

Ava’s waiting anxiously, bouncing on her toes, and when the van pulls in, the doors are hardly open before a tiny blur is coming at her, hurling himself into her arms. She can lift him now, easy, and she spins him around and laughs, ruffles his slightly longer hair. “Diego, my guy. I’m so happy to see you.”

Beatrice is standing off to the side, there at Ava’s insistence, and Ava turns to her now, arm still around Diego’s shoulders, and says, “D, this is Beatrice, my girlfriend.” Beatrice, perfect Beatrice, offers a hand and turns her full attention to him. “Hello, Diego. It’s so nice to meet you. Ava has told me so many wonderful things about you.” She says it with the kind of Beatrice sincerity that makes Ava want to cry a little, and her voice is softer than it would be with a grown-up, but only just slightly, something comforting instead of something patronizing.

Diego’s blushing a little, which Ava understands completely and also finds to be really fucking cute, as he shakes her hand and says, “Hello. It’s very nice to meet you, too.”

Ava jumps a little as she says, “Okay. So. What do you think about a beach day?”

Diego lights up, and Ava keeps it together, barely.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

He laughs and hugs her again and says, a little loudly but Ava couldn’t care less, “Yeah!”

They take Diego to pick a swimsuit, purple with green octopi winning in a close race against blue with orange turtles. He chooses a green rash guard to match, Beatrice extolling the virtues of UV-protection, and then they select an excessive number of sandcastle construction tools, packing them all into a beach bag that Beatrice carries easily while she and Diego debate the perfect spot for their towels.

Ava takes a minute to grab her water from the bag as Beatrice and Diego begin discussing the logistics of castle-building, and it’s really almost too much for her, watching these people that she has loved so powerfully in such different parts of her life sit together and seriously map out a floor plan in the sand. Bea, taking her own advice, has on a black rash guard and green board shorts, hair in a ponytail threaded through a black cap. Her eyes are focused, moving between their layout and Diego, who is busy looking up at Bea in something close to awe. Again, she gets it, and she takes the chance to watch for a little while, until Diego looks over at her and says, very seriously, “Ava, how do you feel about a double moat?”

It’s easy, so easy, to spend the day with them. The castle is more impressive than anything Ava would have been able to build with Diego on her own, Beatrice critically examining sand-to-water ratios and consulting Diego on every decision. A few other kids, Diego’s age and a little younger, look on, clapping at the successful installation of a new turret, until their adults call them away.

Beatrice unpacks the fruit and chips Diego had picked and, after a short time splashing in the shallow water, they get ice cream, sitting under an umbrella stand and watching the water.

When they get back to the towels, it’s obvious that Diego is a little tired, and Beatrice says, almost shyly, “Diego, I brought something I thought you might like.” She pulls a copy of Percy Jackson from their bag. “It was one of my favorites, when I was your age.”

Ava knows this is mostly true. Beatrice had loved it, although by the time she was Diego’s age, she was reading books many people didn’t read until college. She’d asked Ava before buying it, “He won’t think it’s silly?” And Ava had assured her that he would love it and then kissed her, like, a lot.

Diego’s holding the book a little reverently, still not used to anyone giving him anything, much less anything new with this kind of thought and care. “Cool,” he breathes out, the highest compliment he can give, really, and he looks at them both as he says, “Can I read it now?”

Ava lays a hand on Beatrice’s knee. “Yeah, D. Absolutely. We brought books too.”

Beatrice pulls their books out, and they settle happily on the towels. By the time the sun is setting, he’s made it through a surprising amount, and Beatrice offers, easily, as she packs their bag, “I’ll send you the next one, if you like it.”

“Thanks, Bea.” He says it like it’s something he’s said a thousand times, closing the book and looking at her earnestly, and Ava knows it means something, for Beatrice to have someone else, a child, be this comfortable with her.

“You’re welcome.”

Diego is staying the night with them, so they’re not in a particular hurry, and when Ava watches him staring at the Ferris wheel as they walk the boardwalk, she nudges Bea a little and nods in its direction. Beatrice nods and squeezes her fingers.

“Hey, Diego.” He looks back at her. “Wanna go on the Ferris wheel?”

By the time they reach the wheel, Diego’s a little more hesitant. It’s understandable—the thing is huge, and the carriages are all glass, and Ava knows he has never done anything like this before. He doesn’t stop, though, leading them into the line for tickets and then into the line to wait. The carriages are big, but there aren’t enough people that they fill, each group getting one to themselves. When it’s their turn, the attendant opens the door and Diego hesitates a little before stepping up, Ava and Beatrice following closely.

Before Ava can say anything, Beatrice has let her hand go to stand close to him. She says, gentle in all the same ways she is with Ava, “Diego, I’m a little scared of heights. Would you mind holding my hand?”

He knows, she thinks, what Beatrice is doing, but the smile he gives her is grateful and he grabs her hand without hesitation. “That’s okay, Bea. Me too. We can do it together.”

Ava stands beside them, leaning into Beatrice, and they watch the sun set over the ocean.

#warrior nun #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun fic #wn prompt fic

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summ3rhead · 2 years ago

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Avatrice 1930s AU snippet

Easy, Beatrice thought, kissing Ava. Easy, she thought, tasting Ava’s faintly buttery lips. “Easy,” she said aloud, and ever so gently tugged Ava’s shirt up and out from where it had been tucked into her shorts. Her hands slid easily over Ava’s stomach; both of them were hot and damp with sweat from the humidity. The contact did not make Ava shiver, but rather it made her fall further into Beatrice and sigh.

In a move similar to the one she had done in the morning, Beatrice slipped her fingers between the waistband of Ava’s shorts and the skin of Ava’s stomach. Again, Ava felt the hard press of Beatrice’s ring against her flesh, except now it was warm from their shared body heat, when in the morning it had been startlingly cool.

“Easy,” Ava said back, and she smiled against Beatrice’s mouth.

The deep, verdant peace of the greenhouse was abruptly shattered by a voice yodelling through the greenery.

“Yoohoo!”

Beatrice and Ava, in their collective shock, leapt apart like two tightly wound springs.

Beatrice dodged the irises behind her by mere centimetres and only slightly clipped her ankle against the table. With that catastrophe avoided, she then promptly stumbled back into a hanging pot of dangling red hot cat’s tails, whose flopping tendrils slapped directly into her open mouth and made her cough.

Ava did not dodge the irises; she careened back-first into the plant pot behind her, making it rock dangerously on its plate and crumble dirt onto her shirt.

Someone was walking crisply, though cautiously, down the aisle towards them. Ava extracted herself from the plant pot, hastily brushing her shirt free of loose soil and tucking it back in her shorts. She had no time to check on Beatrice because just then Michael appeared, shouldering through the jungle of overhanging flora and smiling broadly.

As soon as she saw him, Ava relaxed her shoulders and practically wheezed out, “Michael. You scared me.” Though Ava realised, belatedly, that it really couldn’t have been anybody else; she didn’t know many people who actually said yoohoo with a serious face –well, apart from Michael, apparently.

“Did I?” Michael’s brows locked together as he gazed from Ava to Beatrice.

Ava had gotten over her shock significantly faster than Beatrice, and so she turned and began tugging at Beatrice’s sleeve to get her attention. “Bea,” she hissed.

“Yes? What?” Beatrice replied absently. She was in the middle of the arduous task of methodically picking little red bits of flower fluff off of her tongue and hadn’t quite noticed what was going on around her.

Ava shot Michael a quick apologetic smile that seemed to say, Oh, typical Beatrice. You know how she is, always grazing on the Acalyphas. Then she turned her back on him to collar Beatrice. “Michael,” she whispered savagely out of the very confines of her mouth, punctuating the two syllables with icy insinuation.

Beatirce’s eyes widened, and she peered over Ava’s shoulder to smile uneasily at Michael, who, entirely unperturbed, waved back at her with a winsome smile. Beatrice hastily spat out a few more bits of flower and moved to stand beside Ava rather than in front.

“Well!” Michael said. “Beatrice and Miss Silva! I’m glad I caught you both.”

Beatrice gulped down a final mouthful of cat's tails and turned a concerning shade of grey. “Caught?” she said waveringly. Her voice had taken on the tremulous quality of an innocent man receiving a guilty sentence.

“I heard noise coming from the greenhouse and noticed that the door was open. I thought the blasted foxes had gotten in again.” Michael, as oblivious and jocular as ever, was bouncing merrily on the balls of his feet, looking pleased to see them.

Beatrice, whose brief fit of terror at the thought of having been caught red-handed spooning behind the curtains had passed, cooled into irony, and she said, dryly, “Our mistake,” which Ava promptly elbowed her in the ribs for.

“Was there anything you needed me for?” Ava asked. “Something about my proposals?”

“Oh, yes,” Michael said, snapping his fingers. “I mean, no. I’ve come to invite you both for drinks this afternoon. We left off so strangely the other day. Besides, you two are jollier company than Koi fish.”

Beatrice blinked aggressively in Michael’s direction, but Ava, taking her to the side again, smiled lopsidedly and said under her breath, “Come on, Bea. Lets.”

Beatrice shot a few more hostile blinks at Michael before inclining her head and saying, “Five O'clock.”

Ava broke out into an irrepressibly glorious smile, and, forgetting herself (or rather, remembering herself and why she liked Beatrice such a tremendous amount), she bounced up and gave Beatrice a smacking kiss on the cheek.

Michael turned from where he had been inspecting a slightly crooked iris and clapped his hands. “Five O’clock,” he said. “Excellent. I’ll tell Gordon to set up the terrace.”

And so Beatrice was left gulping and blinking amidst the cat’s tails, trailing slack-jawed after Ava and Michael as the two of them discussed what cocktails they would mix.

#wanted to get this out there because its been a month since i updated it oops #well #anyway whatever #enjoy ig #warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #ava x beatrice #1930s au #warrior nun fanfic #avatrice fanfic

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call-me-maggie13 · 2 years ago

Text

"Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?" Ava straightens her sweater for the fourth time, picking nonexistent lint from it.

"Ava, of course I’m certain. Do you need a minute?" Beatrice slowly unbuckles Diana from her car seat, easing her out of it gently so she doesn’t wake her. Once she has Diana in her arms, Ava reaches into the backseat for her winter jacket and guides the sleeping girl’s arms through it. They both freeze when she shifts, holding their breath until she settles.

Diana hasn’t been sleeping, sleep regression, her pediatrician had called it. It’s normal, she had assured them.

Nothing about this felt normal.

"No. No, I’m alright." Ava bounces on her toes, shakes her arms out. "Unless, do you need a minute? Are you good, Bea?"

"Ava," Beatrice laughs, facing her. "We can take a few minutes before we go in. Do you want to take some deep breaths with me?"

"I’m not a toddler, Beatrice. I don’t need deep breaths." Ava rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Alright. Let’s go."

"Maybe - maybe we should wait a minute. Just because like, what if they’re doing something? Or - or - or - like, what if they aren’t here? Are you sure they’re here, Bea? Maybe we should wait to see."

"Ava. Breathe. You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. We can leave, if you’d prefer." Beatrice tucks Ava’s hair behind her ear.

"No, I want to stay, it’s just - " Ava sighs, kicks at the snow in the driveway. "What if they don’t like me?"

"Darling."

"No. They’re - they are your parents, Bea. Like, them not liking me would be a really big thing. If they don’t like me - "

"It doesn’t matter if they don’t like you, because I like you." She holds her arm out for Ava, kissing the top of her head. Beatrice has never brought anyone home before.

She’s never had anyone to bring home.

Not like this. Not anyone this important to her.

It’s terrifying.

Martha is watching from the window beside the door, Beatrice has caught her twice already. She’s going to pretend she wasn’t when they get to the door, probably pretend to come running down the hall like she was in another room.

"Are you ready?" Ava nods but Beatrice doesn’t let her go, not yet. She needs another moment. Another moment of just them. Before the beautiful chaos of the Masters’ household. Before the craziness that comes with the holidays.

She loves Shannon’s parents. She loves that she became a part of their family. But she’s not afraid to admit they can be a little much.

"Okay. Let’s do this."

"Should we get the bags or…" Beatrice shakes her head, taking Ava’s hand and leading her up the front stoop. Ava knocks and squeezes Beatrice’s hand in hers.

Martha takes a moment to answer the door, despite Beatrice knowing she’s holding the handle on the other side. She counts to ten before Martha swings the door open.

"Beatrice!" She cheers and Diana flinches at the sudden outburst. Ava and Beatrice shush Martha at the same time.

"If you wake her, you have to deal with her," Beatrice threatens. At least, she tries to. It’s hard to seem threatening when she’s whispering. "Martha, this is Ava. Ava, this is my - this is Martha."

They shake hands and exchange pleasantries before Beatrice asks if they can come in.

"Oh yes, right, of course. Come on in. Rich will get your bags in a moment, he’s wrapping the last of his gifts in the den. You know him, always waits until the last second to do anything. You must be cold, could I get you a tea? Hot chocolate? Coffee? Anything?"

"No, thank you, Martha. Unless," Beatrice turns to Ava. "Do you want something?"

"I’m good. Thanks."

"Right, well. You three will be in your bedroom, Beatrice - "

"What? What about the guest room?"

"Turned one into a home gym and the other into Rich’s main office, he tries to work mostly from home these days. He’s getting older, you know."

"Heard that." Rich joins them in the foyer. "Beatrice, welcome home. You must be Ava, yes? And I’m going to assume the little lump in your arms is baby Diana?"

"Beatrice, why don’t you show Ava around and Rich will get your bags, yeah? Unless, are you tired? Do you need a moment?" Beatrice knows that look. Martha is plotting again.

"I think we should get settled first, if that’s alright?"

"Yes, of course. You know where everything is." Martha motions to the staircase and Beatrice starts up them, checking that Ava is following.

Her bedroom is just how she’d left it. Plain yellow walls with minimal decorations, bed centered on the far wall, curtains drawn in the windows. The pictures on her cork board carrying a thin layer of dust and curling about the edges.

"I can take the couch, if you’d prefer." They’ve shared a bed before, Beatrice isn’t certain why this time feels different, why the thought of sleeping beside Ava makes her stomach hurt. But it does. It feels… realer, almost. Like sharing a bed with Ava in her childhood bedroom is crossing some invisible line.

"Absolutely not, Bea. If anyone’s sleeping on a couch, it will be me."

"You’re not sleeping on the couch, Ava. You’re a guest." Beatrice rolls her eyes as she slowly shifts Diana to her bed, kissing her forehead before tucking the duvet around her shoulders.

"I - I think I’d sleep better with you here…" Ava admits, her voice barely a whisper. "I just - I don’t do new places well."

"Then I’ll stay. Yes?" Ava nods softly, Beatrice holds her arms out and Ava curls around her before Beatrice teases softly. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

"They seem great. Martha is very eager."

"She always has been."

"And Rich. He’s - he’s good?"

"Very."

Ava hums, burying her nose in Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice kisses her temple and rubs a hand up her back.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Ava murmurs into Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice tries to suppress the shiver from Ava’s voice vibrating against her. She’s unsuccessful.

"I would, yes."

Neither of them moves. Beatrice tangles her hand into the hair at the base of Ava’s head and scratches her scalp softly, Ava scrunches the back of Beatrice’s parka in her fists.

Nothing exists in this moment. Nothing but their hearts beating against each other. Nothing but their bodies warming each other. Nothing but two souls mingling.

Beatrice isn’t sure when it happened, but Ava fell asleep. Standing up. Tangled in her arms. Ava fell asleep.

"Ava," Beatrice nudges her softly, trying to wake her. She earns a disgruntled whine. "Ava, wake up. You just have to get to the bed then you can go back to sleep."

Another whine.

"Ava, please."

"No," Ava whines and buries her face deeper in the crook of Beatrice’s neck. "Carry me?"

Beatrice sighs but nods, crouching slightly and leading Ava’s legs around her hips. She swallows, ignoring the heat burning in her stomach. It’s three steps, the journey from where they were to the edge of the bed that Beatrice settles Ava on.

It might as well have been three hundred.

Ava doesn’t let go when Beatrice tries to set her down, whining and squeezing tighter around her.

This is where Diana gets it from. Beatrice realizes. The thought makes her chest ache.

"Ava, just let me take off our shoes so we don’t get mud in the bed, please." Ava whines but pulls away just far enough to allow Beatrice to tug their shoes off before she turns into a koala again. "Okay, okay. Don’t wake Diana."

Ava hums and Beatrice struggles to maneuver them without bumping Diana. When she does, Ava crawls on top of her, legs slotting together laying completely on top of Beatrice. She presses a single warm kiss against Beatrice’s collarbone before she’s asleep again.

This is going to be a long week.

Read more below the break or here!

"What do you mean you got rid of the air mattress?"

Martha looks up from the cookie dough she’s rolling out and sighs.

"It was old, Beatrice. We had no need for it. Can you pull down the cookie cutters?" Martha motions to the cabinet with her rolling pin before resuming her work.

"What’s the big deal about it anyways?" Shannon asks from her seat on the counter. She’s eating chocolate chips out of the bag, an action Beatrice finds both reprehensible and disconcerting.

"There’s just - Forget it. I’ll sleep on the couch."

"No, you will not. And sneak a peek at your stocking? Absolutely not." Martha shares a look with Shannon, who tosses a chocolate chip at Beatrice’s head.

"Then - I - ugh."

"You sound like Shannon when she was sixteen, remember that? Ugh. You don’t understand. Ugh ugh ugh." Martha mocks and Beatrice can’t help but laugh.

"I was not that bad!" Shannon throws a chocolate chip at both of them as she giggles too.

"Bad at what?" Ava’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she steps into the kitchen, Diana clinging to her leg.

"Hey," Beatrice greets quietly, lifting Diana when she raises her arms up. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"You didn’t wake me." Ava leans heavily into Beatrice’s side, dropping her head on her shoulder with a yawn.

"You needed the sleep." Beatrice murmurs into her hair. Ava hums and winds an arm around her waist.

"Nannon," Diana whispers in Beatrice’s arms, waving at her half heartedly.

"Did you have a good nap, Diana?" Shannon reaches to take her from Beatrice, but Diana shakes her head and clings to Beatrice tighter. "Do you wanna make cookies?"

Diana shakes her head again, and her bottom lip quivers.

"Hey, it’s okay. No one’s going to make you do anything, patinho." Beatrice bounces Diana on her hip, continuing once Diana has dropped her head against her shoulder and tucked her thumb into her mouth. "Sorry. She’s a slow starter, you have to give her time to wake up. We can try again later?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Why don’t you show them around?" Martha offers instead, motioning to the door with her rolling pin.

Beatrice leads them to the hallway, starting the tour. Ava stops at every picture and asks about each one. Graduation photos, birthday parties, beach trips, mountain hikes, school award ceremonies, piano recitals, aikido tournaments.

"What’s this one?"

It’s Shannon and Beatrice, fifteen and thirteen respectively. Beatrice is looking at the person behind the camera, smiling politely, completely oblivious to the blur of Shannon plummeting toward her from above. It was only Beatrice’s second vacation with them, to a resort town on a beach somewhere. Beatrice had spent the first half of the trip apologizing and trying to make herself invisible.

Shannon had spent the entire trip torturing her mercilessly.

"Bea, I will bite you if you don’t relax. Just pick something."

"I - I don’t want to choose wrong."

"It’s a restaurant, not a marriage. Just pick one. Close your eyes and point to one."

"What if I choose wrong? What if it’s awful?"

"Nothing can be worse than starving to death. For real, I’m about to eat you."

Beatrice did as she was told, squeezed her eyes shut and pointed to a random place on the pamphlet. Shannon read the name out and Beatrice opened her eyes.

"Good job, Speedy."

"I’m wearing Shannon’s top. She had threatened to behead me if she caught me in her clothes again. That was her unsuccessful attempt at my decapitation."

Ava hums, but she doesn’t follow when Beatrice tries to lead her into the den.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice bumps her softly.

"Yeah. I just - was it always like this?"

"How do you mean?"

"Fighting over clothes. Guerrilla attacks. Trips to beaches. Swim competitions and aikido tournaments and pillow fights. Fresh baked cookies and projectile chocolate chips. Was it always like that?"

Ava never had any of that. Nothing was ever hers to fight over in the orphanage. It was always first come, first serve. Nothing belonged to anyone, everything belonged to no one. There were no arguments because squabbles resulted in punishment, and everyone would rather have nothing than risk punishment.

"Not always. Shannon and I fought a lot. And we could be brutal. I remember one time, I’d worn her favorite jumper to school and stained it and she screamed at me and told me she wished I had never moved in with them. But she also snuck me out of the house for ice cream and she taught me how to drive long before Rich or Martha was willing to and she would always, always apologize and tell me I was the best sister she could ever ask for.

"She taught me how to be human, in a sense. Because humans aren’t perfect, which meant I didn’t have to be either."

~*~

Ava meanders through the hallway, taking in the pictures lining the walls. Beatrice on Shannon’s shoulders in a swimming pool, Beatrice standing on the edge of a cliff, Shannon doing a cartwheel, Rich holding Shannon up by the ankle as a toddler, Shannon pushing Beatrice into a pool, Beatrice on a bike holding the handlebars so tightly her knuckles are white, Shannon holding up a pale arm and a bright blue cast, Beatrice hanging upside down on monkey bars, Shannon lobbing a ball at an unsuspecting Beatrice’s head, Rich holding Beatrice above his head and grinning, a laughing Shannon pinning a grinning Beatrice to the ground, Beatrice tackling Shannon, Shannon dumping a cup of water on Beatrice’s head, Beatrice holding up a trifold board and a blue ribbon, Shannon holding a hairbrush to her mouth and dancing on a table while Beatrice bounces in the foreground.

She drifts silently from room to room, taking it all in. It isn’t until she finds Beatrice’s perfect script etched into a doorframe that she really comes to a stop. It’s a height chart. Shannon’s etchings start at age one and a half, climbing the doorframe all the way to age twenty-two, the handwriting switches from a careful script to an illegible scribble around age six, but Ava can’t be certain because she truly can’t read it.

Beatrice’s careful handwriting starts at age ten, stretching up the doorframe all the way to age twenty-three. Mary has two scratches on the chart, age seventeen and age twenty-four.

Ava traces the fading names under the pad of her thumb, reading each scratch carefully, pausing on the newest addition.

Diana, 28 months

"I hope you don’t mind." Martha nods to the mark. "She saw it yesterday and asked about it."

"It’s alright, I hope you didn’t feel like you had to."

"It’s the family height chart, Ava. I’ll take your measurement if you would like."

"Oh, no, that’s alright. I don’t want to impose." Ava is stopped halfway through the doorway by Martha’s response.

"You’re family, too. It would be incomplete without you."

If Martha notices the tears in Ava’s eyes while she takes her measurement, she doesn’t say anything.

~*~

"Shannon, don’t slouch."

"God, Mom. I’m not slouching."

"Fix your shoulders."

"Mom!" Everyone laughs when Shannon whines, Beatrice motioning for Shannon to straighten her back too.

"And your back. Just like Beatrice. You can do it."

"Just say she’s your favorite," Shannon mumbles but she’s smiling brightly when she sticks her tongue out at Beatrice.

"She’s about to be the only one in the will if you don’t fix your posture."

Shannon’s laugh bubbles out of her like a pot boiling over, slowly spreading across the room and pulling a reaction from everyone. She laughs so hard she spills her wine in her lap.

"What can I say, Shannon. I am the superior child." Beatrice sticks her tongue out like a child before dissolving into giggles. She’s curled around Ava, dragging one hand through Ava’s hair and holding a glass of wine in the other.

Shannon hurls a decorative pillow at her, missing spectacularly and slamming it into Ava’s shoulder.

"Girls!" Martha exclaims. Ava tenses. No family is this perfect. This is not real, of course not. This is when the ugly parts come out. "If your insist on throwing things, either go outside or put away the wine. This is a new rug and, if you’ll notice, it is very white and your wine is very red."

Shannon narrows her eyes at Beatrice, wiggling her eyebrows before shooting out of Mary’s arms and sprinting to the back door. Beatrice is right on her heels. Their wine glasses are slid haphazardly onto the kitchen island while they tug their boots and coats on, shrieking like children and shoving each other.

"Are you coming?" Beatrice pants as she leans over the bar. Ava checks behind her, there’s no one there. "Ava?"

"Oh. Do you want me to?" Mary smacks the back of Ava’s head lightly before pulling her to her feet.

"Of course she does, you idiot. Now put your coat on so you don’t get sick.

They tumble out the back door, down the slippery deck stairs and into the freshly laid snow. Shannon scoops the snow into her hand and packs it into a ball, sending it hurtling through the air at Beatrice, who squeals when it blasts apart on her back.

Beatrice sprints after her, tackling her to the ground and shoving a handful of snow down the front of Shannon’s coat. Mary lifts the giant ball of snow she’d been building and drops it over Beatrice’s head. They all shriek.

"Ava! Help!" Beatrice is being wrestled to the ground by Mary while Shannon packs a snowball and attempts to shove it under Beatrice’s coat. When Ava doesn’t respond, they all pause and turn to her. "Are you alright?"

Beatrice’s cheeks and nose are bright red and she has snow in her eyelashes and hair, her breath coming out in short clouds of smoke. She looks beautiful. She looks alive. She’s alight with something Ava’s never seen in her before.

"Yeah. I’ve just never played in snow before."

"Never? In your entire life?" Ava shakes her head.

"Not a single time ever?"

"She just said no, dumbass."

"Dumbass? You married me, what’s that say about you?" Shannon scoops snow up and slams it over Mary’s head. Beatrice slips from under them and joins Ava in watching them.

"Do you want to learn how to pack a snowball?" Ava nods and Beatrice squats and scoops up two handfuls of snow, offering one to Ava before walking her through it. "Now you just throw it like a baseball at Shannon’s head."

Ava sends the snow flying through the air and rupturing against Shannon’s back. Shannon spins around and shouts, making her own snowball and throwing it back. They chase each other until their lungs burn and their legs feel like jelly and their fingers are frozen.

"Mama?" Ava spins back to the deck where Diana is stood barefoot in her pajamas.

"Hey, baby," Ava pants as she runs to her. "Did we wake you?"

Behind her, Shannon tackles Mary and they roll in the snow. Diana shivers as she tries to watch them.

"I play?" Diana points to the pile that is Shannon and Mary, eyes wide and bright and eager.

"Let’s get you in some warmer clothes first, yeah?"

"Do you want help?" Beatrice skids to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, hair wild and wet and eyes shining.

"I think we can handle it, yeah, Di?"

"Dada go?"

"Let me help."

Twenty minutes later, Diana is bundled in an old pair of snow pants from when Shannon was a toddler, a winter coat on top of a pullover with the hood drawn up over her dinosaur beanie with matching gloves, two pairs of socks and warm snow boots.

"Think you put enough clothes on her? She’s practically a snowball herself." Mary teases while Diana climbs carefully down the deck stairs.

"I don’t want her to get sick," Ava explains quietly, a little defensive.

"Hey," Beatrice bumps their shoulders, "she’s taunting you, she doesn’t mean anything by it."

"I know, I just - maybe I should’ve made her wait until the morning. It’s really cold."

"The snow’s the same temperature regardless. She won’t remember if she gets sick from this, she’ll remember the time her mum let her stay up past bedtime to play in the snow."

Ava nods, Beatrice is right. But she will still feel so guilty if Diana gets sick from this.

"Are you coming?" Beatrice asks from the bottom of the steps.

"In a minute."

Beatrice nods before scooping Diana up and tossing her in the air, setting her back down and chasing after her. Diana screams and runs as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, absolutely delighted, even when she falls face first in the snow. Beatrice helps her up and wipes the snow from her face, talking to her quietly. Diana bounces as she responds and Beatrice helps her find a patch of untouched snow, guiding her carefully onto her back and doing a jumping-jack, cheering when Diana repeats the motion in the snow. Beatrice lifts her up and shows her the snow angel she just made and they both celebrate.

"No man, mama?" Diana yells across the backyard and Ava smiles and nods in response. Beatrice motions for her to join them, but Ava stays rooted where she is and watches Beatrice start the base and help Diana push it around to make it bigger.

The back door opens with a squeak and Martha steps onto the deck, coming to a stop beside Ava and watching Shannon chase Mary and Beatrice drop the middle of a snowman into place.

"Beatrice," Martha starts, only briefly glancing at Ava before continuing. "She’s good people, that one. She hasn’t always had it easy, I’m sure she’s told you. She’s had every reason to turn cold and hard, it would’ve made her life easier, that’s for sure. But she didn’t. She stayed warm and soft, she kept loving without asking for anything in return. That takes a lot of strength and, more importantly, courage."

"She’s so good with Diana. And Diana loves her. Sometimes more than me."

"As is the nature of children. They love and they grow, but babies always need their mothers."

"She’s not going to be a baby much longer." Martha frowns at Ava’s words but doesn’t take her eyes off Beatrice dropping the head of the snowman into place.

"She’ll always be your baby. Mine? They’re grew up and moved away and don’t come home nearly as much as I want them to, but they’re still my babies." Ava watches a single tear slide down Martha’s cheek. "And Beatrice? She might not be my blood, but she is my baby."

~*~

Diana is covered in icing. She’s even got it behind her ears. She has sprinkles in her hair and she keeps sneaking chocolate chips when she thinks no one is looking. But she is glowing, bright and lively while she explains her designs to Beatrice. She’s babbling, not even attempting to use real words, but Beatrice is nodding along and asking questions like it’s the most important thing in the world.

"You’re staring." Shannon swipes blue frosting across Ava’s cheek before returning to the cookie she’d been decorating, raising her voice a little and donning a feigned irritated tone. "God, Bea. Ava’s messier than the kid."

Beatrice looks up, eyes shining brighter than the night sky and smiles crookedly.

"Come ‘ere." She nods Ava to the sink where she wets a rag and wrings it out, steadying Ava’s face in her hand carefully and wiping the icing away so gently Ava briefly wonders if Beatrice thinks her skin is made of glass. Beatrice drops the rag into the sink when she’s satisfied, but her hand stays on Ava’s face, thumb tracing the apple of her cheek. Ava is certain she’s forgotten how to breathe.

"Alright, you two, save something for the honeymoon." A chocolate chip bounces off the back of Ava’s head. Beatrice grins and sticks her tongue out at Shannon, her hand falling away before finding Ava’s.

Is this what family is? Flying chocolate chips and snowball fights and names etched in a wall? Decorated cookies and Christmas movies and hot cocoa with extra marshmallows?

~*~

Diana loves Rich. Absolutely adores him. She follows him everywhere and has to do everything he does. If Rich is eating a cookie and watching the hockey game, Diana is right beside him doing the same. If Rich is drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper, Diana is drinking hot chocolate and looking at the comic section.

It’s adorable.

Ava is wary, in the beginning. She doesn’t have a very reliable history with the men in her life and she doesn’t want Diana to grow attached to someone unreliable.

It isn’t until she finds them asleep in the recliner that she starts to trust him, picking up the picture book fallen to the floor next to them and setting it on the coffee table. When she drapes a blanket over them, Diana shifts and murmurs in her sleep and Rich instantly begins shushing her, rubbing her back slowly.

When they wake, Diana talks Rich into letting her give him a makeover, which goes about as well as any two year old giving a makeover could go. He has mascara and lipstick and blush all over his face, his nails messily painted a bright blue and butterflies clipped in his hair.

He wears it proudly.

~*~

"I don’t know if Beatrice told you but, in this family, we wear matching pajamas on Christmas morning." Martha passes out presents, pausing before handing Ava hers and continuing. "That means everyone. You don’t have to sleep in them, but you will be in them for pictures tomorrow. That is a threat."

Diana tears into hers immediately after being handed it but Ava stares at the box in her hands. It has her name on it.

"You got me matching pajamas?" Rich nods slowly at Ava’s question. "You want me in your pictures tomorrow?"

Shannon freezes, glancing from her parents to Beatrice, who’s knelt beside Diana and trying to help her open the box she’s determined to destroy. Beatrice has no idea what’s going on around her, completely absorbed in her interaction with Diana. But Shannon knows what Ava’s comment reminds them of. Beatrice’s first Christmas with them.

"I get pajamas?"

"Of course you do, honey."

"And I’m going to be in your pictures tomorrow?"

"If you want to, you will be, sugar."

"Where will I sit while you open presents?"

She was talking to Shannon, the pajama set clutched to her chest. Shannon looked to her parents for help.

"You’ll be opening your own presents, Bea."

"I - I get presents? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Bea. You got a lot of presents."

"I didn’t get anyone presents. I’m sorry, I didn’t know."

"Bea, you’re ten. You don’t have to get anyone presents. Just do what I do and tell mom and dad that your presence is the best present they could ever get." Shannon tried to make the words sound similar, hoping the pun would lighten the darkness swirling behind Beatrice’s eyes. It didn’t work as well as she hoped it would, but Beatrice smiled and nodded her head like she understood.

Later that night, Beatrice snuck into Shannon’s room and woke her up.

"What’s wrong?"

"Why did you get me presents?" She was so genuine Shannon’s heart shattered like a glass ornament.

"Because family gets each other presents."

"But I didn’t get you anything."

Shannon sat up and pulled the blanket back, patting the space next to her for Beatrice to sit.

"You gave me a sister, Bea. That’s plenty."

"And you want me to be your sister? You aren’t upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"I don’t know." Shannon wipes the tears from Beatrice’s cheeks and pulls her into her chest.

"I do want you to be my sister, Beatrice. I’m not upset about it. You’ll always be my sister, even if I’m super mad and tell you differently."

Beatrice nodded, but Shannon knew she didn’t believe her. Shannon didn’t need her to believe her, because she was going to prove it. She would spend the rest of her life proving it, if that’s what Beatrice needed.

Shannon fell asleep curled protectively around Beatrice, pressed against her back. When she woke the next morning, she watched Beatrice sleep and she realized she didn’t want anything for Christmas as much as she wanted Beatrice to look this peaceful all the time.

"You’re family, Ava," Shannon says, "We want you in the pictures on our walls and in the seats at our tables. We want you here, in every way you want to be, as long as you want to be here."

"That includes Diana." Diana looks up at her name and smiles crookedly at Rich, she’s torn through the gift paper and ripped the box open enough that her pajama set is starting to fall out. Beatrice brushes the hair from her face and asks if she wants any help, Diana shakes her head and continues her destruction with her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

"We love you, Ava." Martha pats Ava on the shoulder.

"How? You don’t know me." She doesn’t mean for her voice to crack.

"Anyone my daughters love as much as you is family. And we love our family in this house." Rich’s voice is soft but strong, leaving no room for interpretation. He’s saying exactly what he means.

"Shannon likes me?"

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?"

Ava shakes her head and shrugs, taking a single steadying breath. She nods and forces a smile, thanking them.

Diana has gotten the pajama set out of the box and discarded them to the floor in favor of tearing the box to pieces and giggling wildly. She offers the trash to Beatrice before jerking out of reach and squealing. She offers it again only to yank it away. Beatrice reaches for it only for Diana to step away from her with a playful grin. Diana’s buzzing, bouncing in place when Beatrice stands and reaches for her.

Diana races out of the room, stopping in the doorway to check that Beatrice is following before scurrying away. Ava’s heart swells when Diana darts back into the doorway and ducks behind Rich’s legs, peeking around him while Beatrice pretends to look for her under the rug and between the cushions on the couch.

When Diana creeps around Rich and throws herself at Beatrice, who is pretending not to notice her, Ava’s chest tightens and her head spins.

This is a moment Ava will never forget.

~*~

"Dada?" Diana rolls over, tracing her finger across Beatrice’s freckles. Beatrice hums and pulls her a little closer. "Story?"

"I already told you three, baby," Beatrice laughs, she doesn’t have to open her eyes to know Diana’s pouting so she stifles her yawn and presses deeper into Ava’s arms. "Okay, okay. Do you want a real or a fake story?"

"Fake." Diana presses her palm against Beatrice’s cheek and Beatrice tilts her head to kiss her palm before pulling Diana into her chest.

"Okay, let me think," Beatrice hums into Diana’s hair. "Okay, Shannon used to tell me this one after I’d had a bad dream, are you ready?

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a beautiful house in a big forest. The trees stretched as far as the girl could walk in every direction, and then just a little further. The girl didn’t know anything but her life alone among the trees. She didn’t know any other people beside herself. She didn’t quite mind her life hidden in the leaves.

"Until a big fire started destroying her home, burning the branches she used to climb and the bushes she had played in. She tried to fight it, but she was just one little girl. So she had to leave. She had to run until she wasn’t in the trees anymore.

"The world was brighter without the safe canopy of leaves to block the sun, the world was bigger without the trees breaking up the horizon line, and the girl hated it. She wanted to go back to her home in the woods for a very long time.

"But she met a family with an older girl out in the bright, big world. And the two girls fought and they said they hated each other, but they took care of each other. The older girl taught the little girl how to play and have fun anywhere, and the little girl taught her how to be patient and kind in return.

"They loved each other more than either had ever thought possible, even when the little girl broke the older girl’s phone and when the older girl lost the little girl’s favorite toy. When they fought and when they played, when they hurt each other and when they helped each other. They kept each other safe. Always. Because that’s what sisters do."

~*~

There are three presents left wrapped beneath the tree, one with Diana’s name, one with Beatrice’s, and one with mom and dad scrawled across the top. Shannon passes her parents theirs first, bouncing her knee while Rich tears the paper away and drops it to the ground. He lifts the lid and pulls out two coffee mugs wrapped in newspaper.

World’s best grandmother

World’s best grandfather

Martha glances from the mugs to where Diana is burying herself in gift paper trash then to Shannon.

"I don’t know why you would get us these and not Beatrice, but alright." She’s fighting back a smile, biting her lips to keep them for turning up at the edges.

Shannon groans and flops dramatically onto her back.

"Mom. You have another child. Another child that can have children also. Bea isn't your only kid. It's me. Me and Mary. We're adopting a baby. Please, oh my god. Is everything about Bea to y'all?" If she’s upset, she’s hiding it well, playfully lobbing a ball of paper at Beatrice’s head and chuckling when Beatrice sticks her tongue out. Rich’s chortle rattles Ava’s chest and shakes the couch, it wraps heavy and warm around her like a blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Shannon tosses Beatrice’s gift into her lap and rolls her eyes. Beatrice unwraps it carefully, peeling the tape back slowly and ensuring not to tear the paper. Diana sighs heavily from under her mountain of paper balls, eyes closed and content.

Beatrice expertly untucks the lid from the box and lifts a keychain out, steadying it to read the inscription.

World’s best aunt

"I thought it was one baby? Now I'm the aunt of the entire world? Where are all those children going to fit in your house?" Shannon’s face scrunches up as she lunges at Beatrice, pinning her shoulders to the ground and tickling her sides. Beatrice shrieks and wiggles wildly trying to fight Shannon off through her giggles. Diana sits up at the noise, watching Shannon and Beatrice for a moment before roaring and leaping onto Shannon’s back.

Mary clicks her tongue and peels Diana off Shannon, hanging her upside down and tickling her. Diana screams for Ava, trying to push Mary’s hands away. Ava swoops in to rescue her, spinning in a slow circle and peppering her face with kisses. Diana squeals and pushes her away, wiggling out of her arms and darting to Beatrice.

"Shannon, leave your sister alone." Martha sounds bored but her face is alight, her eyes bright.

"She started it!"

"She didn’t ask, Shannon." Rich’s voice shakes as he tries to fight back a laugh.

"If I had known she would be your favorite, I never would’ve asked for a sister." Shannon kisses Beatrice’s forehead and ruffles her hair before pretending Diana successfully pushed her over. Diana squeaks and bounces, dancing in place while Shannon pretends to be hurt. "It was fine when I benefited from it, but now it’s just unfair."

"Are you talking about the mother may I routine?" Martha chuckles.

"Bea, go ask mom if we can go to the movies."

"But it's a school night."

"I know. That's why you have to ask."

"Okay."

"Wait. How are you going to ask her?"

"With my mouth."

"Beatrice, I swear to god I will rearrange your markers.

How will you ask her?"

"Can we go to the movies?"

"Exactly. Again."

"Mrs. Masters, can we go to the movies?"

"And if she says no?"

"Bambi eyes and please."

"Great. Now go ask."

"She got anything she ever asked for, of course I exploited that. How else would we get pizza or go to the movies on a school night?"

Ava wonders if Shannon resents Beatrice for it, if she’d ever questioned if her parents love Beatrice more. She would have.

She doesn’t get a chance to ask until later. Beatrice is putting Diana down for a nap, Mary is helping Rich in the garage, and Martha is clattering around in the kitchen cooking. Shannon has her feet thrown over the top of the couch and she’s hanging upside down reading the book Beatrice had gifted her, she’s humming quietly along with the Christmas music from the record player.

"Shannon?" She tilts the book away from her and raises her eyebrows. "Did it ever make you mad? How differently your parents treated you and Bea? Because it sounds like you were both held to different standards."

Shannon rolls over and thumps gracelessly onto the rug, she shoves a leftover strip of wrapping paper between the pages of her book before leaving it in the space she’d previously occupied. She joins Ava on the floor in front of the fireplace, the smoke and heat warming her cold hands. Ava’s looking at the pictures on the mantle. There are more of Beatrice, doing completely normal things like folding her laundry and walking a dog, sitting on the edge of a pool laughing and bent over a textbook studying. Shannon’s pictures are sparse, a simple picture of her as a toddler with pigtails and ribbons in her hair, frozen mid-jump holding a trophy over her head, chasing Beatrice with a stick held in front of her like a sword.

"It did a bit at first. I mean, I was twelve. I had been an only child for twelve years and in walks this sad little girl that stole my parents from me. She got tender love and affection while I got nagging and rules.

"But we were the same in the ways that really mattered. We both got grounded for two weeks when I convinced Bea to sneak out with me and we both got cars for our birthdays. They love us both the same, Bea just needed to be shown it more than I did. Because I knew they loved me. She didn't."

Ava watches Shannon’s side profile, searching for any trace of bitterness. But Shannon’s eyes are soft and her voice reminiscent.

"I always wanted a little sister. I used to beg my parents for a little sibling for my birthday or Christmas or anything. I wanted a little sister that I could play dress up and pirates with, one I could teach to braid her hair and climb a tree. Beatrice? Beatrice was not at all the kind of sister I had imagined all those nights on the roof. She’d always been smarter than me and, I mean, she didn’t try to bring attention to it and she never tried to make me feel stupid but you couldn’t talk to her without knowing she was smarter than you. And she was sad. She didn’t know how to ride a bike or build a blanket fort or skip rope. And she was kinda wonky, she’d never had ice cream before she moved here, did she tell you that? Ice cream.

“But she’s the best sister I could’ve asked for, you know? She helped me get through calculus and she let me climb into bed with her after I went through a breakup. She taught me to slow down, to take things one day at a time. Yeah, we bickered and we said we hated each other and we threatened to never speak to each other again, but she would always brush and braid my hair before bed and she would sleep beside me if she had a bad dream and she’d ask me so many questions about everything. She’d ask me why I love her and why I wanted her to pretend to believe in Santa and the Easter bunny. She’d always shoot the wrapper of her straw at my head any time we would go out and she always let me pick the movie during movie night.

"In the end, I don’t really care that she tore my favorite cardigan or scratched my car or called me mean names. Because what mattered was that we kept showing up for each other. We kept loving each other in the ways we knew how."

"And that was enough? You wouldn’t take it back if you had the chance?" Shannon flinches back like Ava had just slapped her.

"What?" Her jaw moves but she makes no sound, it reminds Ava of the old black and white movies she’d watched at the orphanage. Shannon shakes her head like she’s trying to rattle the words out. "Of course not. Sure she pisses me off sometimes and she steals all my shit, but she’s still my sister. Nothing she ever does could change that. I don’t care if she burns the Vatican to the ground or unleashes a swarm of locusts or becomes festooned with boils, she’ll always be my little sister. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly. For all of it. Always. I would never take that back."

This is what family is, Ava knows now. Diana is lucky to be a part of this family.

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