#we can't all thrive on angst can we? no we cannot it's not sustainable

[piratekane]

7 or 8

eight: i heard you talking in your sleep

Ava waits impatiently, drumming her fingertips against her knee as Bea moves around the kitchen. A jar of peach preserves lands on the table in front of her, followed by a knife. She follows strong fingers up to strong arms and shoulders, finally meeting Bea's eyes.

"Yes?" she asks innocently.

"If you're just going to sit there, be useful."

Ava beams. "As you wish." She doesn't linger on the pretty blush that rushes across Bea's face, granting her an ounce of mercy. She knows Bea appreciates it. But it doesn't stop Ava from saying it every chance she can, since they watched The Princess Bride a few nights ago. She knows Bea found it romantic.

And maybe Ava is pushing this line they're drawn between each other, but she can't resist nudging it forward, seeing how far she can get before Bea just admits that there's something going on. She's never good at knowing when to leaving something alone.

She pops out of her seat at the same time the toast pops in the ancient toaster that came with their apartment. She dances across the kitchen, her hands ghosting Bea's hips as she stands at the stove, watching their eggs cook. She feels Bea shiver a little but tries her best to focus her attention on spreading preserves against the toast.

She doesn't last long.

"Good dreams last night?" she asks innocently.

Bea's breath hitches. A normal person - someone not obsessed with every minute detail of Beatrice - wouldn't notice. But Ava has never felt less normal than she does when she's around Bea. And for carrying a Holy Weapon under her skin, that's a pretty big feat.

"Fine," Beatrice says after a second. "Why?"

Ava abandons the toast, all pretenses gone. She turns around, pressing the small of her back into the counter behind her.

"Oh, just wondering," she sings. She purses her lips, counting the seconds in her head. One, two, three, fo-

Bea turns, a spatula in her hand. "Why are you wondering?"

Ava shrugs casually. "Just wondering," she repeats.

Ava - an expert at Bea's facial tics and the way she breathes and the way her fingers curl around something - doesn't miss the slight sigh as Bea reins in the trickle of frustration she's feeling.

Bea's eyes narrow. "If you have something to say, you should-"

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Bea inhales sharply. Ava catalogs it, adding it the ever-growing list of things she loves about Beatrice.

"I wasn't aware," Bea says in a measured voice. But Ava sees the way her hand tightens around the spatula. The eggs sizzle behind her. "I hope it didn't keep you up."

It did. But Ava hadn't cared. She had propped her head up on her elbow and watched Bea in the moonlight, mouth moving as she breathed out things Ava was sure she'd never say out loud. It took everything in her not to wake Bea up.

"It wasn't a big deal." She turns back to the quickly-cooling toast, smiling to herself. She can feel the tension radiating off Bea from five feet away. She smiles to herself, resists the urge to bounce on the tips of her toes. She counts. One, two, thr-

"Do you- Uh, do you remember what I said?"

Ava looks back over her shoulder, schooling her face into something casual. "Oh, the usual stuff. Ava, you need to try harder. Ava, take this seriously." She watches Bea's shoulders - coiled and high up near her ears - start to relax. "Ava, I want to kiss you."

Bea's whole body goes rigid. Ava is sure that if she was any stronger, the spatula would crack in her hand. She fights a smile and gently crosses the room, curling her hand around Bea's and loosening her grasp on the spatula. It's their only one.

"I'm sure that I-" Bea swallows. "I'm sure that's not what I said."

"Oh, it definitely is." Ava doesn't pull her hand away from Bea's. Instead, her replaces the spatula with her own hand. "But in a very dignified way. Like Mr. Darcy. That's the guy, right?" She takes a small step in, watching in delight as Bea takes a step back. She's dangerously close to the stove so Ava reaches around her, turning the burner off. "It was flattering."

Bea's face is bright red, freckles like stars across her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she breathes, voice laced with something Ava might call shame. She frowns. That's not what she wanted. But Bea sees her frown and rushes to add, "It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. And we- It's just been the two of us. I-" Her eyes start to shimmer. "I cannot apologize enough. I understand if you- I'll sleep on the couch."

"Woah, slow down." Ava ducks her head to catch Bea's eyes. She brushes her thumb across Bea's knuckles. Her other hand hovers over Bea's hip but she doesn't dare let it fall yet. "I'm not mad."

Bea blinks a few times. "I understand if you-"

"I'm not mad or uncomfortable," she interrupts. Bea's mouth snaps closed audibly. She looks down at her hand hovering and back up at Bea. She searches Bea's eyes and finds something that lets her know it'd be okay to touch Bea. Her hand lands lightly against her hip. She watches Bea fight off a shiver. "Actually, I'm..."

"Don't say flattered," Bea says in a halting voice, like she's pulling the words out from clenched teeth.

Ava smiles softly. "I won't say that, then." She strokes her thumb across Bea's hipbone. She can't hide the shiver this time. "How about I say... I've been waiting for you to say that."

Bea's eyes widen slightly, her mouth falling open. "You..."

"Me." Ava lowers her hand to Bea's other hip. This time when she steps in, Bea doesn't step back. "And if it's a relief, really. Because I was worried I was the only one feeling this. But I'm not. Right?" A tendril of doubt ripples through her. Maybe she read it wrong.

But Bea just stares at her for a moment before she shakes her nearly imperceptibly. Relief blossoms in her chest.

"Cool. Cool, cool." Ava's smile starts slow but spreads wide. She takes another step in. She can see the panic in Bea's eyes and she wants it to disappear. Her hand tighten a little more purposefully. "So I think we have two options, right? The first is that we totally forget this conversation happened and the next time you start talking in your sleep, I'll ignore it."

Bea's throat bobs as she swallows. "And the second option?"

"I kiss you right now."

"Oh," Bea breathes.

"Oh," Ava echoes with a smile. Bea doesn't move, seemingly frozen. Ava knows she needs to be gentle, to approach this like she's trying to convince a fawn to come closer. So she lifts a hand, rests it against Bea's cheek, and smiles. "Beatrice, I'm going to kiss you."

She doesn't wait. She follows the words right to Bea's lips, pressing her own softly against them. Bea is frozen underneath her and Ava thinks about pulling back before Bea moves, coming alive. Her hand curls around Ava's neck, pulling her back in those few precious inches Ava had put between them. It feels like a long stretch in a patch of sunlight, like coming home and taking off her shoes, like sliding into fresh sheets.

The kiss ebbs into a smile and they stay pressed together like that for a moment before Ava tips her head back, pressing an even softer kiss to Bea's forehead.

"Oh," Bea says again.

Ava smiles. "Same."

"I've been waiting for you to do that," Bea admits. "I couldn't- It couldn't be me."

Ava strokes her thumb across Bea's cheek. "Well, now we've done it. And we're going to keep doing that." It isn't a question, but Bea nods anyway. "In fact, we're going to start right now."

"But breakfast is-"

Ava leans in, stopping the rest of the words. She's never wanted a meal less in her life. Bea doesn't seem to hesitate either, kissing her back instantly. Ava smiles and feels Bea's fingers flex on her neck and feels like they could face anything together and win every time.