#wandaheather

There’s a giant brown hole in the side of Mac’s skull, it’s deep enough that she can still see the shattered edges of bone peaking out of it.

Like a flower peeping out of the cracks of a sidewalk.

The right side of his face is bruised purple. His right eye was swollen shut—not that he needed anymore. Nose cracked to the left, dried snot seeping out of his nostrils. Blood splatters across his face staining it poppy red.

His left eye is open, staring at Wanda as lifeless as a doll.

Even with Michael’s magic, there’s no fixing this.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Wanda glances up from the trunk.

Heather is crying.

She’s trying to hide it, but the redness of her freckled cheeks, the dryness of her green eyes, and the fogginess of her glasses make that impossible.

Not that anyone could blame her, she’s probably been holding these feelings since she left…God Heather made the drive all the way from Ottawa. She’s been choking back tears for miles.

Wanda turns away from her and looks back down at Mac.

There’s a million questions she wants to ask.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“Did anyone see you leave?”

And of course:

“Why didn’t you do this sooner?”

Wanda doesn’t ask that though, instead she places her hand on Heather’s shoulder.

“We’ll take care of it.” She promises.

She hasn’t seen Heather since she left Alpha Flight. Since she headed back home and bought a house in the Vancouver suburbs.

Since their breakup.

“Mac’s my husband.” She said. “You understand, right?”

“No.” Wanda told her. “No, I don’t.”

“I made a vow to love him forever.” Heather stated.

“Until death do you part.” Wanda said. “Death happened; you parted. You fell in love with me.”

“I will always cherish the time we had together!” Heather told her. “But you have to understand...he’s my husband…my first love…I can’t just…I can’t just abandon him.”

“But you can abandon me?” Wanda asked.

“I’m saying goodbye.” Heather said. “I’m giving you a reason. Abandoning you would be me jumping into Mac’s arms and leaving the Flight without a second thought.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing though!” Wanda cried. “Mac comes back to life, and you just drop everything to take care of him.”

“I’m his wife, I’m supposed to care for him!” Heather shouted.

“You’re not his wife, you’re my girlfriend!” Wanda tried to force the tears back into her eyes. “You’re the love of my life.”

She reaches her hand out to Heather, hoping the other woman would clasp it in her hand.

Heather turns away from it.

“Babe?” She whispers.

“I may be the love of your life.” Heather declared. “But Mac’s the love of mine.”

Wanda’s tears dried up as she let out a huff, she crossed her arms as she jerked her body away from Heather.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Wanda muttered.

So it was.

Heather left the Flight and went back to Mac.

Unable and unwilling to stay on a team without Heather, much less one run by the man she left her for, Wanda quit the Flight as well. Spending the past five years burying herself in research. Taking home a new girl each and every night, pretending that they weren’t Heather.

A sharp wail pulls Wanda out of her thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have involved you.” Heather’s voice warbles. “Department H is hot on my trail…the police are on the lookout for me…what’s left of the Flight is probably on their way to arrest me as we speak…”

Wanda pauses.

Heather…her Heather…was always calm, cool, and collected. Even before Mac’s death she wasn’t going to take shit from no one.

The woman buried in her sweater wasn’t Wanda’s Heather.

Rather a shell of a woman she used to be.

Destroyed by the bastard rotting away in the back of her Subaru.

 Heather sighs burying her face in her sweater. “I’m so sorry, Wanda.”

Wanda isn’t sure if she’s sorry about the breakup or showing up at her front porch in the middle of the night with a dead body in her trunk.

It doesn’t matter.

They have a new problem to deal with.

“Get in my truck.” Wanda says.

She darts back inside the house quickly, grabbing a jacket off the standby her door and shoving on a pair of boots.

She reaches into her jacket and tosses Heather a pair of keys and points to the truck sitting in the driveway.

“Start the car and get in the passenger’s seat.” Wanda tells her. “I’ll be right there.”

Heather nods and rushes over to Wanda’s black pickup.

Wanda heads over to the Subaru, ignoring the mud that clings to her furry ankles as she shifts into a hairy, white, ten-foot, dark eyed, monster.

She lifts Mac out of the trunk. Careful to angle him away from the prying eyes of the neighbors across the street. They had gotten used to having her for a neighbor, Wanda regularly relying on her powers to haul heavy packages from the mailbox to her doorstep. However, the sight of her cradling the corpse of one of Canada’s most beloved superheroes would give them cause to call the police.

Or worse Alpha Flight.

Wanda quickly rushes Mac to her truck; she drops his body and his slams into her trunk with a thud.

CREEK!

His neck cracks, causing his head to fall onto his chest.

Whatever, that just makes him easier to hide.

Wanda crushes Mac into a fetal position.

Breaking as many bones as she has to in order to curl him to a small enough shape to slide the cover over him.

Satisfied with her work she shifts into Wanda. Cold kisses her body as she looks down and realizes she’s just in her underwear.

Wanda bemoans not changing into something as she opens the back of the truck to see if she still had her change of clothes from her trip to the beach last weekend.

“What are you…” Heather’s cheeks heat up and she glances out the window as she see’s the state Wanda’s in.

“Relax…” Wanda says. “It’s not like you haven’t seen this before.”

‘Alright, that was a little mean.’ Wanda thinks as she grabs a pair of paint-stained jeans from the bottom of the floor and tosses a Simon Fraiser University sweater over her head.

She makes it to the front of the car, forcing her jeans over her hips and fastening the button as she slides into the front seat. The heat kissing her face as she slams the door shut.

“Thank you.” Heather says.

As Wanda begins to pull out of the driveway.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Wanda says. “We still have to get you out of this mess.”

“Still…” Heather has stopped crying, although her cheeks were still wet.  “If I showed up at anyone else’s house, they wouldn’t have leant me their car. Much less driven with me to dispose of a corpse.”

“Anything for you.” Wanda mutters.

Maybe it won’t hurt as much tomorrow. Maybe she could go back with a giant smile on her face. Who was she kidding? She never wanted to see any of them again. She had enough pride to never show her face at that damn hotel again. Which was the whole reason she was here. Miles from the city, looking for anywhere that was cheap and most importantly had a vacant room.

She took the bus as far as it would take her. Someone told her that there was a motel just off the highway. Just about a mile from the end of the line. She didn’t have enough money for the taxi ride so she just took her suitcase and started walking. 

And it was like God was trying to punish her. Make her pay for thinking she could ever do this whole ‘career woman’ schtick. Just as she started walking down that road lined almost completely with pine trees, the heavens decided to dump the whole ocean onto her. 

It took everything she had not to breakdown sobbing as the first droplets hit the top of her head. Just what she needed. The cherry on top of a fan-fucking-tastic day. And she still had three quarters of a mile to walk. If she was even heading in the right direction. 

“Alright, Heather,” she took a deep breath, “you can either stay in the rain and feel sorry for yourself or walk on.” 

Hey, no one else was going to give her the pep talk. No one else was going to make her walk. No one else was going to drag that suitcase down the rough asphalt. Was there anything she needed to keep in that suitcase anyway? Could she just leave it on the side of the road? 

She debated leaving her shoes too. The so-called sensible kitten heels were anything but. However, she didn’t want to walk into that motel looking like some vagrant. The last thing she needed was to be denied at the door. It was either this or sleeping at some bus stop. She didn’t need to be a genius to understand why the latter was a bad idea. 

After what felt like an eternity, she saw a sign peaking out from behind the evergreen trees. She couldn’t see very well with all the rain obscuring her glasses but she saw enough. She saw the word motel and she saw the neon sign didn’t have the ‘no’ turned on. 

She could’ve fallen to her knees right on the side of the road. She could’ve cried out in relief. But both of those would increase the time she would be assaulted by the rain. God, her shirt must be see-throw at this point. The receptionist would probably think that she looked insane. 

Her bangs were sticking straight to her forehead. So much for all that effort she put into getting them to lay just perfect this morning. It wasn’t even the biggest one of her problems at the moment. She could feel the blisters developing on her heels. She could feel every article of clothing molding themselves onto her skin. And most importantly, she couldn’t see anything with all the raindrops that made a home on her glasses. 

It wasn’t much longer until the motel. Really, it was only just a few steps until she reached the parking lot. And once she reached the parking lot, it was only a few more steps until she reached the door. Or at least reached some sort of awning. As long as she was out of the rain. 

Even through her now useless glasses and the oppressive grayness of the storm, she could gather a few things about this place. It seemed very vintage. Like a time capsule from a bygone age of motor hotels. It also seemed a bit cutesy as well. If she wasn’t mistaken, the outside was painted pale pink. Seemed a bit strange to her. Well, not exactly strange, per se. Maybe the word she was looking for was unique. 

The semantics didn’t really matter right now. She was making quick time to what must be the front door, dragging her suitcase right behind her. There was no way it couldn’t be. The double doors were painted a more vibrant color of pink with little stained glass heart windows. 

“How charming,” she grumbled. She hoped this clear theming wasn’t going to increase the price of a room. Her wallet was running extremely thin and the last thing she needed was to walk in and find out the rooms were some ridiculous price. 

“Good evening, miss,” the receptionist called out from behind the desk the second the bell rang. “How can I help you?” 

“Yeah, umm…” Heather started, dragging the wet wheels of her suitcase across the bright carpet. In any other circumstances she would’ve been more considerate. Right now, she was completely and utterly over it. “I just need a room for the night.” 

“Wait a sec,” she said, reaching for something under her desk. Taking a few seconds before producing a microfiber cloth. “Here. It’s real nasty outside, isn’t it?” 

“That’s one way to put it,” she sighed as the lady started typing something on her computer. She didn’t need to be told twice to wipe off her glasses. 

“Are you alone here, sweetheart?” She asked as Heather put her glasses back on. Finally giving her a good view of the place around her. The receptionist desk looked just as kitschy as she assumed it would. Covered in red and pink and a bunch of hearts. God, that old lady did really point her to some attraction when she was looking for a Motel 6. 

Some themed motel that happened to employ one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Maybe it was her big curly blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Or her fashionable catseye glasses. Or her soft pink lipstick. Or that bright red blouse that wasn’t buttoned up all the way. By the looks of her chest, she wasn’t sure if it could. 

“Uh, yeah,” Heather smiled, trying to snap out of it. She didn’t need to ogle the receptionist. No matter how captivating she might seem, it was rude. She probably already embarrassed herself enough by the state she was in. 

“Meeting someone?” 

“No…” Her line of questioning confused her. Was it normal to ask if someone was alone before they rented a room? Was it just a little quirk that… What was her name? She took the risk of looking down at her chest again to read her nametag. Was it just something that Wanda asked? 

“Okay,” she nodded, typing something else into the computer. “I do have to tell you if we suspect that you’re either selling or soliciting sexual services, we are legally obligated to call the police.” 

“I’m sorry?” She was taken aback. 

“It’s just something we have to tell people who come in alone,” Wanda smiled at her like anything she said was normal. 

“Do you think that I look like a prostitute or something?” Heather crossed her arms. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” she raised her hand, “it’s just a bit unusual to see people come in here alone and intending to stay that way.” 

“Is this not a motel?” She asked. The last thing she wanted to deal with was this runaround. Surely, it wasn’t that weird for her to come in alone. 

“It is,” Wanda confirmed, “but, are you–” 

“Is there some sort of rule?” She argued. “Do you guys not rent rooms to single people?” 

“We do,” she nodded, “I just think that you might–” 

“So what’s the problem?” Heather interrupted her again. 

“There’s no problem, sweetheart,” she could see her trying to hold back a laugh. “But do you know what this place is?” 

“You just told me that it’s a motel,” she groaned. “Listen, I’m not trying to be rude but I just had a shitty day and apparently this is the only place to stay, so can I get a room or not?”  

“As long as you’re over eighteen,” Wanda took a deep breath as Heather wasted no time slamming her ID down on the counter. After giving it a quick look over, she asked another question. “Were you looking for a specific room?” 

“Whatever’s the cheapest,” she sighed. 

“And just one night?” She looked up at her as she nodded. “Alright, that’ll just be fifty even.” 

Heather ran through the bills in her wallet, lucky that she still had two twenties and a ten. She knew skipping breakfast would turn out to be a good idea. Left her with just enough money for a place to stay. No matter how many weird questions the receptionist seemed to have. 

“Thank you,” Wanda smiled at her again before getting up and heading to the back wall. Only then could she see her hot pink mini skirt that the blouse was tucked into. And as if she couldn’t find another attractive quality about her, she was tall as well. Tall and very clearly in better shape than she could ever dream of being in. 

God, what was she doing behind the receptionist desk at a motel? Surely, she could do a lot more. She was the type of woman that was only conceptual. As close to Venus from the shell as she would ever see. She could sell magazines with just her face. She could be desired by anyone who looked at her. And yet, here she was. 

She tried not to stare. No, really, she tried not to. Especially when she was reaching up to grab the key from the top row of hooks. Specifically when her skirt rode up ever so slightly to reveal where her pale pink stockings were attached to her garters. Definitely when she turned around and their eyes met again. 

“Room 205, second floor,” she slid the key across the counter to her, showing off her perfectly manicured nails. “If you need anything else, sweetheart, just come down and ask.” 

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper out as she tried to calm down. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. She was so focused on getting out of there, she didn’t even see the way that Wanda was looking at her. 

All she wanted was to get to her room. Get to her room and have a good cry. She was in desperate need of a good cry. She was in desperate need of a lot of things. Some respect. Some balm for her pride. Something to prove that her life didn’t suck as much as she felt like it did. 

Her suitcase felt like it was filled with rocks as she lugged it up the stairs. Heather knew it was just because she was tired. She wanted nothing more than to collapse on top of that bed. Collapse on some cheap bed and forget that the rest of the world existed. 

But as she opened the door, Wanda’s questions suddenly made sense. She looked over to see the roadsign.

Lovebirds Couple’s Retreat. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Heather,” she sighed. She almost couldn’t believe that sweet old lady pointed her to some sort of love motel. She almost couldn’t believe she didn’t figure it out before she opened the door and saw that heart-shaped bed. 

It was just her luck. Really, it was only natural that she found herself here. It made perfect sense that she didn’t see the name on the sign and embarrassed herself. God knows the world wasn’t about to give her a break. 

There wasn’t anything she could do about it. She wasn’t going to go back down to the desk and say she changed her mind. She already made a big enough fool out of herself. Besides, she was too spent to try and find another place to stay. 

A heart-shaped bed was better than no bed at all, she supposed. She could still sleep on it even if that wasn’t its sole intended purpose. It wasn’t like she was having any luck with the other thing. 

It seemed like it would never happen. At the ripe age of 20, she hasn’t even had her first kiss. Hell, she wasn’t sure a guy even looked her way. She couldn’t think of a reason why they would. 

Maybe they’d be utterly enchanted by her giant glasses. Or they couldn’t take their eyes off her pasty complexion. Or maybe her mom was wrong and the guys would just go crazy over the fact her stomach wasn’t completely flat. Maybe it didn’t matter at all because nothing could fix the wet rag she called a personality.

She wasn’t delusional. She knew that no matter how much effort she put in, if she knew what the right lipstick was or if she mastered the art of batting her eyes, she would never be a catch. She’d never get another reaction when she asked a guy out. That look of confusion and pity. That look that said she was too ugly to even think about trying. 

Heather sighed as she opened her suitcase. She couldn’t imagine that Wanda had problems like that. If she had to guess, she could get anyone she wanted. She probably never had to wonder if there was just something wrong with her. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like any of this was going to change. She’d wake up and still be as pathetic as she was when she went to sleep. She’d walk out the next morning and Wanda would still be more beautiful than she’d ever dream of being. She’d have to go home and admit to everyone that she couldn’t do this. 

She just needed to get out of her unbearably wet clothes. Then she needed to fix her hair. Not that she planned on leaving the room until the morning, she just needed it to stop sticking to her forehead. Maybe then she could relax. Maybe then she could stop crying and moping around. 

It really didn’t help that there were mirrors on every single wall of the damn room. For what reason exactly? So people could look at themselves having sex from every single conceivable angle? Was that something that people got off too? What a dumb thing to find hot. 

The last thing she wanted was to look at herself. She knew what she looked like. She looked like a fucking mess and didn’t need to be reminded of it. It was baffling that all the drapery on the wall was just for show. There was nothing she could do about it. No place she could hide. 

Oh well, nothing she could do now. She used one of the many available mirrors to brush her bangs back out. The only positive thing about this situation. As much as she didn’t want to just give up, it was taking too much effort to try and turn her mood around. 

As soon as she looked decent enough that she wouldn’t grimace every time she caught a glimpse of her reflection, she set the hair brush down. Maybe it was best to just call it a night. Cut her losses and go straight to tomorrow. Skip ahead to a day that wasn’t tainted. Tomorrow will be a better day because nothing could be worse than today. 

But as she flopped down on top of the cherry red comforter, she was once again met with her own reflection.

“Jesus fucking christ,” she mumbled as she stared up at herself. Of course there would be a mirror above the bed. Why the hell wouldn’t there be? Why the hell would there be any place in this room where she could escape herself? 

If that wasn’t enough, it seemed like the couple in the room next to her were having a lot of fun. Making no effort to conceal their pleasure. Why would they? They were all at a sex motel. If anything, she was the weird one. She was the one having a horrible time. 

She needed to get out of the room. If she didn’t, she was going to lose her mind. Even through the loud moans, she could still hear the rain hitting the roof. A walk was obviously out of the question. Was there anything else to do? She didn’t smoke so standing out on the walkway and staring out at the parking lot was out of the question. 

Well, she did see a vending machine. A diet coke didn’t sound half bad. And she had two dollars. And if she was lurking in the hall she didn’t have to stare at her reflection. Or hear the woman in the room over wax poetic about how big it was.

It was probably the only good idea she had all day. She wasted no time getting up from the bed and grabbing her wallet. She couldn’t forget the key either. The last thing she needed was to lock herself out of her room and have to talk to Wanda again. She probably already thought she was a loon, the last impression that she wanted to give was that she was an irresponsible one. 

The machine was on the ground floor. She didn’t mind. It only gave her more time out of her room. More chances to calm herself down. Maybe after she wouldn’t be so pissed off by her reflection. Who was she kidding? A diet coke wasn’t going to fix her entire day. 

No one was out and about. It made sense. They probably all had someone keeping them occupied. They were all having too much fun to even think about their shitty lives. She was probably the only person here who was having a bad day. 

And this little distraction wasn’t going as planned. Of course it wouldn’t, why did she think it would? As good of a plan as this seemed, the universe seemed to find the exact way to fuck it up. She turned to the corner to see the vending machine sitting where she remembered it. Right next to the laundry room. Right next to the person she really didn’t want to see right now. 

Wanda gave her a small smile as she continued folding a load of towels. Just a simple acknowledgement. It didn’t mean anything. Why would it mean anything? Did Heather want it to mean anything? 

Maybe she was just still embarrassed from earlier. When she practically yelled at her because she in fact had no idea what type of motel this was. Maybe it was just awkward. Them both standing there saying nothing. 

“Sorry about earlier,” Heather mumbled out, putting her money into the machine. 

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” Wanda let out a slight laugh. “I imagine that it must be hard to read the sign in a storm like this.” 

“Yeah, last time I trust a recommendation from some old lady at a bus stop,” she joked as she pressed the button. 

“Well, the other closest is about ten miles from here,” she shrugged, “but not telling you about the little quirk we have was probably a set up.” 

“A set up for what?” She laughed.

“People get off on the weirdest shit,” Wanda explained as the can crashed down. “I can’t even count on both my hands how many people have tried to involve me in their fetishes.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” she nodded. “People have no shame when it comes to a place like this but it is entertaining to see how many of them think I’m a complete dumbass.” 

“Well, I’m sorry, I can imagine that’s frustrating,” Heather offered some condolences. 

“Oh please, I know where I work,” she laughed. “We’re all freaks here, only the flavor changes.”

“Yeah, I must be the weird one here,” she opened the can. 

“I don’t think it’s that weird,” Wanda shrugged. “Not everyone comes here just to have sex. Some people just like the aesthetics, makes a good backdrop for photoshoots. After a while, you learn not to judge.” 

“Photoshoots?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah,” she smiled as she put another folded towel into the bin. “Varying degrees of raunchiness but we do have a working relationship with a boudoir photographer. Very nice, gives us a discount.” 

“Have you done one?” 

“Why, do you want to see?” She teased, which made the heat rise to Heather’s cheeks. 

“Oh, I wasn’t–” She quickly turned away from her. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize to me, sweetheart,” Wanda reached her hand out and grabbed her shoulder. The action only made Heather’s heart race more. 

“It was just a bit rude, wasn’t it?” She tried to laugh it off as she felt Wanda’s fingers pressing into her shoulder.

“Hasn’t anyone ever flirted with you before?” Her question was almost laughable. Just one look at her and she’d have her answer. But instead of laughing, the question made her heart skip a beat. Was this… Was she actually flirting with her?

Heather shook her head as their eyes met again. Her honest response made her frown. “You’re trying to tell me that no one has ever tried to make you feel beautiful? That’s extremely hard to believe.” 

“It’s the truth,” she threw her a half-hearted smile. A part of her was sure that she was just toying with her. Surely someone as beautiful as Wanda wasn’t flirting with her. 

“Oh, you poor little thing,” she tutted, taking a strand from her bangs between her fingers. “I’ll tell you, men don’t know a prize when it’s staring them in the face.” 

“Maybe, I’m just not a prize,” Heather knew her face must be as red as a tomato. It didn’t help that Wanda looked at her like this was the most natural thing in the world. 

“You deserve to be cherished, sweetheart,” her voice was soft but she could tell there was something behind it. Something she couldn’t quite understand. The way she was looking at her. Like she could see into every part of her soul. As if she understood her completely. She wasn’t completely certain she didn’t. “You need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” 

 “Mhm,” Heather managed to mumble as she melted into the hand cradling her face. It was strange. Through all her romantic woes, she never even thought of women as an option. She never considered that soft features and ample curves could be better than anything a man could offer her. A man never treated like this after all. 

“Well, tell me beautiful,” Wanda purred as she drew circles on her cheek, “would you like me to follow you back up to your room and take real good care of you?”

“Aren’t you working?” She managed to form words even though it seemed impossible. It seemed impossible that she could even think. It was as if Wanda placed a spell on her. 

“Would it bother you if I was?” She tilted her head. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble,” she admitted as Wanda leaned in closer to her. Giving her a good sniff of her cherry perfume. 

“Don’t worry about that,” she laughed. “If it helps you sleep at night, consider it part of my duties.”

“So you do this quite often?” Heather somehow found the nerve to tease her back. 

“I wouldn’t say ‘quite often’,” she shrugged, “but when a beautiful woman who was having an exceptionally bad day and is in desperate need of certain assistance crosses my path, how could I ever just stand by?”

Heather audibly gulped as Wanda stepped right up to her. Her big chest squished against her own. She couldn’t help but look down at the sight. If you told her just an hour ago that this was where her night was going to lead, she would never believe you. 

“How about it, pretty girl?” Wanda lifted her gaze with a single finger. “Do you want to?” 

“Please,” she whined out, pushing against her. Seeking any sort of relief for this feeling. This knot in her gut. This sensation she had never felt before. This sensation that Wanda was causing. 

“Aww, you don’t need to beg me,” she teased again, taking her hand and leading her down the hall. “You don’t gotta do a single thing except lie there and look pretty, sweetheart.”

Every single ‘sweetheart’ made her knees buckle. She was putty in her perfect hands. Completely pliable. Malleable. She didn’t know anything about this type of thing and Wanda seemed to know a whole lot. 

She was practically pulling her along. Heather didn’t need to tell her where her room was, she knew she remembered. If she didn’t, then she must be taking somewhere even better. She could lead her wherever and never let her leave and she’d be grateful. It wasn’t like there was anything in her life worth coming back for. 

Was she being ridiculous? Maybe. She was so horny she couldn’t even think straight. It was an odd sensation. Like her mind and her body had a singular goal. Like her whole life led to this moment. Like every decision brought her to this motel. Led her down the hall. Back to that room with one of the most beautiful women that ever existed. 

Wanda wasted no time once the door was unlocked. Picking Heather up and bringing her right to the middle of that heart-shaped bed. She couldn’t help but look up and see her own reflection. Couldn’t take her eyes off of herself as Wanda crawled on top of her. Straddling her lap and going in for the kiss. 

Her lips were soft. Softer than she ever imagined a man’s lips feeling. A man wouldn’t be sharing their lipstick with her either. God, this felt so good. She felt so good. So good and so right. She didn’t want another kiss if it didn’t feel like this. 

When she finally pulled away, Heather was left with that familiar reflection of herself. Only this time she could see that soft pink sheen on her lips. She couldn’t say that it wasn’t a good look on her. 

But she couldn’t keep staring at herself when there was an even more enticing sight in front of her. The way that Wanda was straddling her made that tight little skirt ride up. Just enough that she could get a sneak peak at her panties. Some lacy pink number that made her core throb just from the visual alone. 

By the way she was smirking she knew what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was doing to her. How could she not? It wasn’t like Heather was being subtle. She knew she was hot. She knew that she had her in the palm of her hand. Even as she started to unbutton her shirt, she didn’t break eye contact with her. 

“I saw you staring at them earlier,” Wanda pulled back the red blouse, revealing a bra that matched her panties. It turned her on more than anything she’d ever seen before. 

“I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t,” she took a deep breath as Wanda got a hold of both her hands. 

“What? Am I just a piece of meat to you?” She teased as she placed Heather’s hand squarely on her chest. 

“Well, if you’re just a piece of meat then I’m just a charity case, right?” She squeezed the flesh under her hands. They were soft, moved with the pressure of her grip. Her breath hitched as Wanda leaned into her touch. 

“Not a charity case,” she denied, holding back a moan, “I’m just very dedicated to keeping our valued customers happy.” 

“Is that the line you use on everyone?” Heather asked as Wanda reached for the hem of her t-shirt. 

“Well, it seems to work on you, sweetheart,” she didn’t waste any time pulling her shirt off and revealing her bare tits. Compared to Wanda’s, they were nothing special. Nothing anyone would write home about. But by the way that she was looking at them, with some sort of primal hunger, she was starting to doubt that opinion. 

She roughly pushed Heather back down onto the bed. Making her gasp as she crawled on top of her and took her titty into her mouth. Sucking on it greedily. As if she could will anything to come out of it. Whatever her goal was, it made her feel good. 

Her hips started bucking. Trying to find any sort of friction. Any sort of relief from that sticky throbbing feeling. But Wanda wasn’t paying attention to her pussy. No, she was completely occupied by her chest. 

Sucking on one, massaging the other. Making sure neither of them stayed neglected. Making sure Heather didn’t have to lose a single second of sensation. Every pass of her tongue and press of her fingers made her moan. She slapped her hand over her mouth. 

She knew what this place was and still, the thought of someone hearing her made her feel embarrassed. Like everyone knew what was happening. Everyone was judging her. Everyone knew she had done nothing to deserve this type of treatment from Wanda. 

“Let them hear you, sweetheart,” she reached up and took her hand that was covering her mouth. “They want to hear your pretty little noises, why would you deny them?” 

“It’s just–” She could feel the heat rising to her face as Wanda pinned her hands next to her head. “It’s a bit embarrassing, I don’t–” 

“If you even think about trying to muffle yourself again, I just so happen to know where we hid some handcuffs in this room,” she smiled as Heather’s eyes went wide at the suggestion. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

She couldn’t form a response even if she tried. She couldn’t think a single coherent thought. All that was running through her mind was how much it turned her on. How much she wanted Wanda to use her however she pleased. 

“You’re a naughty little thing,” she teased, pressing her wrists into the mattress. “I bet everyone thinks you’re some angel, don’t they? Bet none of them could ever imagine you like this.” 

Her little teases turned Heather on more than she cared to admit. More than she ever imagined they could. Made her blush deepen. Made her squirm under her. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” She leaned down and purred into her ear. “Are you gonna let me eat your pretty pussy, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm,” she nodded as Wanda gave her earlobe a soft bite.

“Use your words,” she commanded. 

“Please,” she whined as Wanda made her look at her. “Please, Wanda. I want it so bad.”

She placed a strong kiss on her lips before crawling back down the bed. Making a real show of unbuttoning and pulling down her jeans. Taking her time, teasing her while keeping eye contact. 

Heather still expected that this was just a dream. How could this be reality? How could a woman as beautiful as Wanda see anything in her. She didn’t need to lie to herself, she knew she was quite plain. She didn’t expect anyone to ever look her way and here she was. On that heart-shaped bed, with the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen pulling down her panties. 

She knew it was obvious that she’d never done something like this before. Just the mention of it made her blush. But despite all her teasing words, Wanda was gentle. So gentle and patient through all her squirms and whines. 

Heather couldn’t help it if she was sensitive. If her breath was so cold on her now exposed core. If the anticipation was getting to her. If her legs were shaking as Wanda put them over her shoulders. 

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart,” she cooed, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh. “I want you to feel good, okay?” 

“Okay,” she nodded as she started in. The first sensation of the tongue entering her body was enough to make her cry out. Enough to make her lift her back off the mattress. She didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t have any frame of reference. But she never could’ve pictured it feeling this good. 

She couldn’t imagine the warm feeling of her mouth on her pussy would unlock a whole other layer of her nervous system. That the simple action of her sucking on her clit could make her feel this good. Make her feel like she wasn’t even human. This must be supernatural. This must be a purely divine feeling. How could it not be?

Heather couldn’t talk even if she wanted to. Her brain was disconnected from her mouth. She hoped that Wanda could understand her cries and moans. As if it was their own secret language. 

Her fingers were digging into the soft flesh of her thigh. Her nails scratched, leaving obscene red marks on her pale skin. The sight alone made her eyes go wide, not to even mention the sensation. Every little action was ruining her. It was like Wanda wanted to break her. Make sure she could never feel this good again. Make sure she needs her. 

“Mmm, right there,” Heather let out a high pitched scream as her tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot. She wasn’t even looking up anymore. She couldn’t hold up her body. But even as she stared up at her own reflection she could feel the way that Wanda was staring at her. 

Staring at her like this was the most beautiful sight in the world. Like Heather was some hard won prize that she was savoring. Like none of those little comments everyone else made about her didn’t matter. Why would they ever matter? Even if no one else saw it, she knew that Wanda did. 

The build up was getting too intense. That knot in her core only gained pressure. Even if she hadn’t done it before, she wasn’t a complete idiot. She knew what was happening. The peak was approaching fast and Wanda wasn’t letting up. 

If anything, she was going in harder. Her thighs pressing against her head only encouraged her. Her cries only feed Wanda’s desire to push her over the edge. To take that first orgasm like a trophy. The thought was making Heather’s eyes roll back. 

Her climax crashed over her like a wave. A wave of lighting and dopamine. A wave that made her pussy throb and her legs shake uncontrollably. A wave that gave Wanda the satisfaction she was chasing this whole time. 

The room was quiet now that Heather replaced her moans with panting. As she was trying to calm herself and her heart rate from the race they ran together. It felt peaceful. Calm. A stark contrast from everything else she felt that day. 

Wanda crawled up to lay next to her. None of that teasing confidence was still on her face. Instead, she looked at her softly as she twirled a piece of her bangs in between her fingers. 

“So, how was the service?” She asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek as Heather scooted closer to her. 

“It was amazing,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll have to tell everyone I know about this place.”

No matter what we called them, they never stopped coming. They never stopped trying to talk to me at the grocery store. I never stopped yelling at them. I didn’t care what they’d say about me, I wasn’t going to divulge our trauma for their dumb podcasts. 

I didn’t like the media attention. In fact, I hated it. The last thing I wanted was to turn on my TV and hear people talking about me. For the first few months it was entirely unavoidable. I had to stop myself from throwing my phone at various walls multiple times. 

I don’t know if I could’ve done it without everyone. Without Wanda coming over more nights than not. Without Marrina offering some ample distraction. Puck somehow finding time to bother me despite the fact I quit the day it happened. And I had to mention all those neighbors stepping up to practically bankroll us when it was still hard to go outside. 

I never gave a public statement about what happened. I didn’t feel the need to. Those investigators from Vancouver took over when everything went to shit. I told them the truth. They wrote it down and closed the case. Patted themselves on the back for a job well done. 

And they said it was over. Keeping the finer details sealed in some big filing cabinet. Nothing more to say about it. Nothing more to do. Their job was done and we were left to pick up all the pieces when so many people were trying to snatch anything they could. The fire was out, someone else could deal with the ashes. 

Madison stepped down soon after it happened. Let some deputy that I always hated take over. I was just lucky that I didn’t work there anymore. He left town, leaving almost everything behind and drove east. Despite all the anger that I still held, there was part of me that hoped he could someday move past this. 

The Beaubier twins didn’t stay much longer either. Moved back to Quebec as soon as that big house sold. I didn’t blame them one bit. After everything this town had put them through, I was surprised that they didn’t light a match and not look back. They did send me some cookies over the holidays. You’d think I wouldn’t pick up random packages on my porch anymore but they were good. 

That house was bought by some asshole hockey player. Used it as some summer vacation home and left it abandoned for nine months out of the year. A house like that deserved more but the less we all had to deal with rich assholes the better. 

It was strange. In the wake of what felt like complete destruction, John’s Harbor managed to catch a second wind. Any press is good press, I suppose. For everyone that left, their spot was immediately filled again. It made me laugh how people were clamoring to live in the murder town. Surely, not that much had changed. 

As hard as it was, I eventually got back on my feet. Staring at the wall and being scared of your own shadow gets quite boring after a while. Mr. McCormick offered me a job at the hardware store. Told me it was a lot less stressful than the station. I could come and go as I pleased, no pressure. 

They’d have to get my head checked if I said no to something like that. I really just needed a change of pace and scenery. Spending my days shooting the shit with retired men that had too much free time beats overthinking alone in my house. And besides, I had another mouth to feed now. 

I made good on my promise to Marrina to get a giant beast in the house. Mrs. McCormick made good on that promise to put a good word in with her cousin. By April, we drove down to Vancouver with the sole purpose of meeting some puppies. 

That spring litter she was telling me about wasn’t great danes. We only found that out when we had already driven half way there. I could tell that Marrina was a bit disappointed when she so casually broke the news. Part of the reason we were driving down was to try and find the second coming of Hamlet and finding out that wasn’t in the cards was about as disappointing as anything. 

But when we pulled up to the house and saw all those fluffy white puppies chasing each other in the yard, any reservation we might’ve had vanished. I was always quite fond of the great pyrenees. Felt like they suited me.

After at least an hour of playing with them, watching them tumble over each other, we decided on the girl with the green collar that kept trying to bite Wanda’s hair. Hopefully that wouldn’t be indicative of further trends.

Much debate on the ride home and the few nights after led to the name Phoebe. It just seemed right for her. Of course, it didn’t take long for the name to devolve. Marrina started calling her Phoebus which then morphed into Beebus which naturally turned into Beebee which slowly changed into Bieber and obviously that became Biebs which is how we finally ended with her responding to Beep. 

The line was a bit harder to explain to Wanda when I was on the phone telling her to get off the counter. Her opinion was that it wasn’t right for such a majestic and noble dog with a strong name getting called Beep. She wasn’t entirely wrong but it was still a funny conversation. 

For most of the year, Phoebe was my only companion in the house. Wanda went back to Montreal in July. Marrina left for college in August. We had a few good talks about it. If she felt like she was ready to live by herself after everything that happened. Making sure she knew that a gap year or online school was always an option. She reassured me that this was what she wanted. Also added that she’d go insane if she had to listen to me and Puck sit in the yard listening to a Jimmy Buffett CD any longer. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that was an exclusively summer activity that she’d have to be subjected to again when she got back. 

I wasn’t complaining, of course. Phoebe turned out to be a great companion. As stubborn as she could be at times, it wasn’t like I didn’t throw it right back at her. We managed to keep each other's attitudes in check. I took her to work more days than not. She was adored by almost everyone who stepped in even if she acted like she didn’t care. 

Some days she even managed to get some play time with her cousin Hamlet. Had to tell them to stop roughhousing plenty of times when I sat behind the register. They did manage to get along well. Except when they decided tug-o-war was the game of the day. Then Phoebe would always come to me whining because she never managed to beat his strategy of just laying down on the floor. 

Even if we did butt heads at times, I had to admit that getting her was one of the best choices I made. If I didn’t have her, I don’t know how I would’ve survived these last few months. After everything that happened, I didn’t know if I could cope with being alone. What would I do if I was scared? If the nightmares came back? If I had days where it was hard to take care of myself? 

I would have to push through, of course. Just like I did during those months. Still, it was nice that when I woke up screaming from a nightmare I could hear the pitter patter of her claws on the stairs as she walked up to my room. Giving me a look of annoyance for waking her up before jumping up on the bed and sprawling out any place that wasn’t directly occupied by my body. 

I wondered if she’d be pissed when Wanda comes back and steals that spot away from her. Maybe she’d be relieved that someone else could look after her crazy mama and she could just continue getting the loveseat gross with her fur. Maybe she’d think it’d be more efficient to just lay on top of the both of us. 

We debated it a lot. As much as I said I didn’t want it at first, I missed her. More than anything. Maybe I’m just slow to this whole love thing. Maybe Wanda was the only person I had the capacity to love. Maybe we were just bonded like two cats at the pet store that had to be bought together. Whatever it was, it was hard on both of us to be this far apart. 

I took a trip over to Montreal in the fall. If it wasn’t for Wanda, I would’ve hated every second of it. I wasn’t built for the city. Too much noise, too much chaos, too many people that would judge me for my bright yellow house. But this was where her life was. I couldn’t ask her to uproot everything when she had a hell of a lot more to lose than I did. 

I didn’t ask, she just offered. Traded her research job and fancy city apartment for a high school teaching position in Westpoint and a pillow right next to mine. No matter how much I tried to tell her it wasn’t worth it, she wouldn’t budge. I guess she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her.

“The town seems a hell of a lot more lively than it did last year,” she sighed as we sat down on those lawn chairs in the yard. “I couldn’t even count the people that were just walking around downtown.” 

“I guess the only thing you need to revive a dying town is an overly publicized murder case,” I joked, watching Phoebe play with the new toy Wanda bought her. “That dog’s spoiled rotten, I’ll tell you.” 

“What’s the point of having a dog if you don’t spoil them?” She laughed and put her arm around me. “She’s a lot like you, you know.” 

“I’m well aware,” I gave her a light shove. “I’ve always thought that they matched my temperament.” 

“Then maybe it’s a good thing that Linda didn’t tell us until we already drove an hour and a half,” she shrugged. 

“Well, if we had a great dane then I’m sure Marrina would’ve wanted them to act exactly like Hamlet…” I trailed off when I felt a vibration in my pants pocket. “Speaking of–”

“Is Hamlet giving you a call?” 

“Yeah, he’s saying that Phoebe is too much of a pussy to play tug-o-war with him anymore,” my joke made Phoebe stop for a second and look at me. “No, Marrina’s gonna be here in about an hour and she’s asking if we want clam chowder with or without bacon.” 

“Bacon isn’t kosher,” she shook her head. 

“Neither is clam chowder, babe,” I laughed, texting her to get two regular bowls. 

“That’s something entirely different,” she argued. 

“Why? Because you want to eat it?” 

“Exactly,” she laughed as I leaned into her. “I forgot how peaceful it was out here.” 

“Mhm,” I agreed. The backyard was always so calm. Just the perfect amount of sun and shade in the afternoon. If you listened you could hear anything. The birds in the trees just beyond the fence. The ocean waves crashing against the beach. Phoebe biting down on the toy’s squeaker like that bitch owed her money. “It’s better with you here.” 

“Really?” She smiled at me as I nodded. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not planning on going anywhere.” 

“A very good thing.” I sighed. It seems like so much has changed in the year since it all went down. The faces I see in the grocery store. The people I talk to everyday at work. The way people looked at me when I walked around town. But even if everything changes, it’s good to have some consistency. 

It was nice that Wanda didn’t have to leave again. That we could have plenty more nights just like this one. Plenty more nights like the ones we had when we first met too. Was it ridiculous to say she was the only person I could see spending my life with? I could come home to her every single day and never get tired. She just felt right. Her arm over my shoulder felt right. A whole lot more of her felt right too. 

Part of me felt guilty about the peace in moments like these. Those three girls would never get peace like this. Maybe they found something else in whatever comes after. Heaven, reincarnation, the countless other interpretations of the after life. Maybe they were simply twinkling among the stars. Whatever it was, I hope it was better than the fate they were subjected to. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” I fought back a yawn as I turned my head slightly. Even through my blurry vision, I could see her smiling at me. 

“Mornin’,” she ran her fingers over my short hair. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Mmm, good,” I managed to mumble, leaning against her hand. “How ‘bout you?” 

“No complaints,” she hummed. Neither of us managed to find shirts before passing out. The January chill had found its way into my room. But we had the heat of each other. The blankets offered enough shelter for the both of us. “I didn’t expect your room to look like this.”

“What do you mean?” I laughed. “I think it’s perfectly in line with my bright yellow house on the coast.”

“It is,” she agreed, reaching for her glasses on the nightstand, “but I didn’t expect the only butch for fifty miles in any direction to have the same taste as someone’s grandma.” 

“Oh, please, I got almost everything from estate sales,” I sat up and stretched. “Might be haunted but at least it was cheap.” 

“I’d drink to that,” she yawned, stretching her arms back. Displaying her tits almost intentionally. I knew it was rude to stare but why not admire a real piece of art? It would be easier with my glasses. 

“Want some coffee?” I asked as I swung my legs off the bed. Pushing the blue quilt off my bare legs. 

“If you’d be so kind,” she smiled as I grabbed my long cardigan off my chair. I wasn’t too keen on getting dressed just yet. She didn’t look like she was either. There wasn’t any reason to rush. My neighbors weren’t nosy and the curtains were still drawn downstairs. We could be as naked as we pleased and no one would be any wiser. 

The stairs still creaked loudly. The next thing I needed to work on. Redo the steps. Stain it a nice shade of light brown. Maybe get a carpet runner in some obnoxious color. Something close to a Caribbean blue would be nice. I didn’t need to get the specific down right now. The only priority was coffee. 

Wanda was still upstairs. Most likely going to the bathroom or just freshening up. The thought of her snooping around my shit did cross my mind but I didn’t care that much. She already shoved her fingers inside of me, I’m sure she could handle the sight of a pad or some ointment from a few years ago. Maybe I shouldn’t be so trusting of someone who I just met. But it wasn’t like she was alone in my house. If she was causing trouble, I’d hear it. 

The coffee pot made a groaning sound as it started to brew. It was going to give out any day now. Lasted a good few years. It might have a few more years in her. I was planning to use it until it burst into flames. After that I might splurge on one of those fancy-shmancy espresso makers. If I wasn’t in the middle of some renovation when it finally bid me farewell. 

“We never put the pie away,” Wanda pointed out as she entered the kitchen. My attention turned towards my small dining table only to see the foil covered tin sitting right in the center of it. 

“Oh, I’m sure it's fine,” I laughed. Bringing it over to the counter. A little treat in the morning never killed anyone. “How about some for breakfast?” 

“I couldn’t come up with a better idea if I tried.” She laughed, pulling out a chair to sit at the table. I opened the foil to reveal the red filling oozing out of the golden crust. It would’ve lasted longer if I put it in the fridge but it was still good. Still as delicious as ever. 

I brought two plates and two mugs down from the cupboard. Some of my nicer porcelain plates, I had no reservations about using the good shit. One bright red and one bright yellow mug. Just enough to bring some more joy into a soft and lazy morning. 

“Do you take cream and sugar?” 

“Nah, I’m good with black,” she assured me as she looked around the kitchen. At the white cabinets and delicate little lace curtains that covered the small windows. I knew she was still puzzled about my interior design choices. I couldn’t blame her, I surprised myself with my taste sometimes. 

I don’t know, maybe I just felt a strange sense of nostalgia about it. My little coastal dollhouse reminded me of all the church ladies I spent so much of my youth around. Even if most of them would judge the type of person I was now, maybe they’d like that crocheted blanket over the baby blue loveseat. They didn’t need to know what went down on it last night. 

Crazy how much of it stuck with me. How many expectations. How much shame. Sometimes I could still hear my mom saying that I was wasting my life away just because I didn’t want what they all did. I didn’t want a husband or kids. I was perfectly content being a spinster. I knew it would disappoint them. It was part of the reason I never went back. 

But I must not be doing too bad for myself. As pessimistic as I appeared most days, I was happy here. Happy with my house despite the problems that seemed to come one after the other. Happy with my job despite all the people that pissed me off. Hell, life couldn’t be bad when I’m eating cherry pie for breakfast across from a beautiful lady. 

“You know, even if it’s a day old, I think it’s still the best pie I’ve ever had,” Wanda commented as she set her fork down. 

“Oh, Marlene doesn’t fuck around about her pie,” I laughed. “Like every single summer, she buys crates and crates of cherries and spends almost a week straight making hundreds of jars of pie filling.” 

“Well, someone has to,” she joined in my laughter. 

“Making sure the great people of John’s Harbor are never deprived for even a day.” I joked. “That would be the biggest tragedy this town would ever face.” 

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine,” she sighed. “But what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” 

“Nothing in particular,” I shrugged. “It’s too cold to do any yard work so I’m just playing it by ear. What about you?” 

“Not a goddamn clue,” she smiled. “Work doesn’t start for another two days so I gotta find something to occupy my time.” 

“Well, maybe we could find something to do together,” I offered, getting up from the table. Spending time with her seemed as good of a plan as any. 

“Mmm, I’d like that,” she nodded. “You could show me around town.” 

“There isn’t anything worth seeing,” I laughed. I had left my phone on the side table next to the couch. Almost crazy that I forgot it all night. Crazier that I hadn’t noticed its absence all morning. 

I opened it to an annoying sight. Sixteen missed calls from Madison. A concerning amount considering it was my fucking day off. I rolled my eyes as I pressed the notification. Only had to wait a few seconds until he picked up. 

“Heather, where the fuck are you?” I was taken aback by his aggressive tone off the jump. 

“Oh my god, is it illegal to sleep in on my day off?” I groaned, naturally feeling defensive. 

“Everyone else got here thirty minutes ago,” he argued with me again. 

“Got where?” It was becoming increasingly obvious that I was missing something.

“There’s an emergency, we need you at the pier.”

“Okay, okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.” I rolled my eyes before hanging up. 

“Work problems?” Wanda asked, walking back into the living room. 

“Probably just two drunk people getting into a fight,” I sighed. “But better not to argue with him about it.”

“Well that’s too bad,” she picked her clothes up off of the floor. As much as I wanted to tell him to fuck off and deal with it himself, I knew I couldn’t. I was perpetually ‘on call’ for emergencies. Considering how aggressive he was on the phone, I had a feeling that it was serious.  “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” 

“Unfortunately,” I nodded, “but let me give you my number. I’d love to see you again.” 

“Oh yeah,” she grabbed her phone out of her coat pocket before handing it to me. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do in town.” 

Neither of us knew it at that moment, but everything was shut down. The town had been in chaos for the last thirty minutes and we were none the wiser. We were some of the last people in the town to know. The only ones who had a peaceful morning. 

“Hopefully,” I smiled, giving her phone back to her. “Had a good time last night.” 

“I did too,” she agreed, smoothing her top out. “I’d like to see you again, Heather.” 

“I’d like to see you again, too,” I waved goodbye as she walked to the door. She gave me  a small wave back. I still needed to get dressed. Every second I wasted was another reason for people to be mad at me. I was already late. I already caused enough drama.

I needed something I could put on fast. The jeans from yesterday. A t-shirt from the laundry basket I hadn’t folded from last week. My trusted brown flannel because it was cold out. And I couldn’t forget my coat. 

Only a few minutes until I made it downtown. Only a few minutes until the reality of this emergency would hit me. I was still grumbling as I got in the car. Frustrated that my plans were ruined. I didn’t know what I was driving up to. I didn’t know how serious this emergency really was. 

No one expected this to happen here. No one expected this type of evil to make its way to John’s Harbor. It was the last possibility on my list. It didn’t even cross my mind until I drove downtown only to see the entirety of our small police car fleet blocking off the pier. 

I parked as close to it as I could as the dread started to set in. The only emotion that beat it out was confusion. Confused why Madison didn’t tell me what happened on the phone call. Confused why no one bothered to stop by my house to get me here sooner. Confused that something like this was happening here. 

“Took you long enough,” Madison walked up to me as I ducked beneath the police tape. 

“If someone bothered to come by my house, I would’ve gotten here a lot sooner,” I pointed out. I was in no mood to deal with his attitude. I’m sure he was in no mood for mine either. “What’s going on?” 

“Body found on the beach,” he gestured towards the group that had already gathered around it. “Teenage girl. No positive ID yet.” 

“Accident or murder?” Looking down, I tried to get a glimpse. I tried to see what was really going on. 

“Well, I’m not the detective here,” he sighed, trying everything he could not to look at it, “but it’s not hard to come to a conclusion.” 

I let out a breath before heading down to the beach. Into the group of people that was obscuring the girl. Someone we’ve all must’ve seen a hundred different times. It wasn’t a big town. It couldn’t be that hard to find out who it was. 

Puck waved me over as I stepped on the beach. A couple people moved to let me into the group. Gave me a chance to see what I didn’t know was only the start. “What’s the situation?” 

“We got a call around eight thirty,” he started to explain. “Someone was walking their dog on the beach and they found her washed up.” 

“Is the witness around?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the body. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. 

“He’s at the station,” he explained, rubbing his eyes. “We also called the coroner but he’s out of town and can’t make it back until tonight.” 

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to understand everything he was saying as I was receiving it. Trying to fight past the shock as cameras kept clicking. “I’d like to get a statement from him. Do we have any idea of who she is?” 

“We got some of the deputies looking into it,” I leaned down trying to get a closer look. From the look of her, it must’ve not happened a long time ago. Last night at the latest. While we were all having fun, she was dying. She was killed and no one even knew. “Yearbooks, social media, asking around the station. We’d like to tell the family before everyone else.” 

“Mhm,” I let out a soft breath, trying to calm down. People relied on me being calm. This was my job. This was what it entailed. “We should go to the station. I’m sure he’s been waiting long enough.” 

We’d have to wait until tomorrow for the confirmation. Wait longer than any of us wanted to. But it wasn’t hard to tell. Every sign pointed in the same direction. The way she was found. The marks on her body. The dread that was palpable on the beach. She was murdered. She was murdered and it was my responsibility to figure out who did it. 

~~✧~~✧~~✧~~

The energy in the station wasn’t any different from that on the beach. A stark contrast from yesterday. When it was buzzing with everyone talking about their weekend plans or that new barbeque place that opened two towns over. Now, it was just quiet. 

Half the force was still at the pier. Trying to shield the town from the finer details. Getting as much as they could from the scene of the crime. Pictures, samples, anything that might help us understand what happened last night. The other half was here. Uncharacteristically quiet. Too shocked to continue on normally. No one could blame them. 

But we had a job to do. We all did. Keeping the peace if that was possible. Trying to quell any fears that were bound to appear in the next 24 hours. It would be a futile effort. Peace would only come with answers. Me and Puck needed to find the answers. That was our job. 

The witness was waiting for us. Sitting alone at the long table. He had a cup of water. Hadn’t taken a single sip out of it. Just staring at it as he pressed the sides of the paper cup. Watching it rise and fall with the pressure of his fingers. 

His dog was sitting on the floor right next to him. A big shaggy one. Maybe a newfie if I knew as much as I thought I did. In any other situation I’d be excited. Jumping at the opportunity to pet and coo at them. But this wasn’t the time.

“Hello,” I greeted him, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible. The last thing I wanted was to scare him. God knows he’s already had a shitty day and it wasn’t even 10 am. “I’m Detective McNeil, this is Detective Judd. We just have a few questions for you.” 

He didn’t say anything as we sat down across from him. With our notepads and that little recorder. All he did was nod, not very keen on looking at us. “Can we start with your name?” 

“Peter,” he mumbled out before rubbing his eyes and speaking more clearly. “Peter Mayfield.” 

“Okay, Peter,” I tried to smile. Tried anything I could to put him at ease, “can you walk us through your morning before you found the body?” 

“Yeah, uhhh…” he turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “Well, I live up in Westpoint but I drove down this morning because I wanted to take Bella to the beach. Left around seven, got here about seven thirty.” 

It wasn’t hard to see he was barely keeping it together. That he was still trying to get past the shock. I didn’t know how to help him. How to make this any easier for any of us to process. It still hadn’t hit me. That that girl on the beach was really dead. That her parents, her friends, her teachers, everyone who cared about her didn’t know yet. Hell, we didn’t even know her name.

“And we were walking around for a bit. No one else was around so I let her off her leash. Let her run, get some energy out.” He took a shaky breath. The dog stood up and put her head on his lap. “It was ummm… It was around eight twenty and she just ran off. Obviously, I was concerned about it so I ran after her. From, like, behind the diner to the pier, maybe a quarter of a mile? I caught up to her and she was just sniffing around the body. I didn’t even think she was dead, I just thought that she… I don’t know, that she got a little too drunk last night.” 

He put his head in his hands and took a few seconds just to breathe. To try and stop the natural reaction to something like this. He would never forget this. Never forget this feeling until the day that he died.

“Anyways, I tried to wake her up. Talk to her, nudge her. Bella was barking. She obviously didn’t respond. I umm… She was face down on the beach so you know, I turned her over and…” He wiped a tear that was falling down his face. “And she was dead. God, she was dead and I was just standing there looking at her. I called you guys and I’ve been here since.” 

“Did you notice anything around the scene?” I asked after he finished his testimony. “Any signs of a struggle? Footprints? Anything that looked unusual?” 

“I didn’t really think to look around,” he shrugged. “But to me it looked like she washed up. Maybe fell into the ocean or something?” 

“I see,” I nodded, jotting down a few things on the pad. “And you said that no one else was on the beach?” 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “If there was, we didn’t see them. Didn’t pass by anybody or hear any talking in the thirty minutes we were down there.” 

“Okay,” I tried to think of any more questions in my jumbled mind. I couldn’t waste this opportunity but god knows we’ve all had a pretty rough day. “And after you called the police, did you stay next to the body?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted. “I stood there for a few minutes before they came just in shock. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” 

“I just wanted to make sure that no one else could’ve been around,” I clarified, turning to Puck to see if he had any questions. If there was anything I wasn’t thinking of. I had no doubt that he was innocent. Just a witness who happened to be the first out and about this morning. “Well, thank you for your time Peter. If we need to talk to you again, we’ll call you back.” 

“Of course,” he nodded, pushing his chair back. “I’m happy to help you guys find out what happened and everything.” 

“Make it home safe,” I opened the door for him as he walked out. It was only then that I heard commotion outside in the waiting area. From the unsteady quiet to what sounded like an argument. 

“What’s going on out there?” Puck asked as I poked my head out. Some lady was talking to Madison right by the receptionist desk that sat vacant most days. From the looks of it, neither of them were having a good time. 

“No idea…” I trailed off as I walked out of the room and back into the lobby. Maybe it was none of my business. Maybe he had it handled. But chances are it concerned everything that happened today. And if it concerned the girl on the beach, it was my business. 

“I know that there’s someone dead on the beach, you don’t have to lie to me,” she argued with him. “My daughter didn’t come home last night. She’s not answering our calls and none of her friends know where she is. Please, I need to know if–” 

“Mrs. Anderson, there’s no need to panic,” he tried to calm her down. Quell her fears when we all knew the truth. She had every reason to think that her daughter was dead. We had no way to prove her wrong. “I’m sure that she’s just sleeping late and will turn up in a matter of time.” 

“It’s past ten, she doesn’t sleep in this late!” She screamed as the tears ran down her face. “Charlotte would’ve come home last night! She would’ve called us or texted us, she would’ve told her friends where she was!” 

“I understand that you’re worried but I can assure you that everything is going to be fine,” Madison was lying straight to her face. He couldn’t assure shit. “If she isn’t home by tonight, call us and we’ll put in a missing person report but right now, we can’t help you.”

“You can help me by telling me if the body on the beach is hers,” she brought her phone out of her pocket. 

“Mrs. Anderson, you’re doing nothing but worrying yourself,” every attempt from him sounded more and more condescending. 

“Madison,” I pulled him aside as she was frantically looking for something on her phone, “don’t you think she has every reason to be worried about this?” 

“I’m handling it, Heather,” he gritted out through his teeth. “The last thing we need is people coming in panicking because they don’t have tabs on their children at the moment.”

“Do we even have an ID yet?” I asked him as he took a deep breath. “So we can look into it and if it’s not her daughter, we have one less panicked citizen.” 

“And if it is then we have to deal with the fallout,” he tried to wave me off. Telling me to let him handle it. 

“If it is, then we can give everyone some answers,” I turned back to her. She was still trying to operate her phone to little success. 

“None of this is necessary,” he tried to take control of the situation. “Mrs. Anderson, please just go home. Chances are that she’s already back waiting–” 

She turned her phone to us. A photo of her daughter filled the screen. A face none of us could get off of our mind. She had every reason to panic. She was right. We didn’t have to tell her that. She could tell by our reactions that her daughter was dead. 

As for more practical solutions, there really wasn’t any. Space heaters had always turned out to be a bad idea. She swore off of them after waking up in the middle of the night to the smell of something burning. Her room didn’t have a fireplace and it would be unwise to build an impromptu one. If she wanted to direct source of heat she was by all means fucked. 

She sighed, trying to pull any blanket she could over her face. Why did her nose get so cold? Why was it so hard to fix this problem? Why could no amount of blankets stop this supposedly supernatural chill from harassing her? 

She sat up and looked at the windows, just to be sure they weren’t all open. Of course they weren’t open. She practically welded them shut for six months out of the year. Maybe she should just get up to check them. Make sure that any of the wind wasn’t making its way through the glass particles. She knew it didn’t really work that way but she was desperate enough to check anyway. 

“Motherfucker,” she hissed as her feet hit the hardwood floor. Even through the pair of wool socks it felt like she was stepping on straight ice. Someone must’ve cursed her. There was no other logical explanation. How could she take all of these precautions and still come out cold? It didn’t make any sense in the slightest.

She somehow managed to make her way over to the window. Despite the floor shooting an icy chill up her legs every time she moved her foot. It was torture. Surely it wasn’t worth it. What was she even trying to check? She knew that the windows were shut. She knew whatever coastal winds were assaulting the mansion weren’t defying the laws of physics. Still, it was enough to drag her out of bed. 

She put the back of her hand against the window. Cold enough to get her skin frozen onto the glass. She didn’t know what exactly she was expecting. All the windows were shut. The latches were locked. It wasn’t the windows and still the cold was ravaging every square inch of this room.  

Was there really nothing she could do but accept defeat? Make her way back to her bed and just ignore it? Try to sleep despite the fact that nothing has changed. She didn’t know how much longer she’d survive. Everyone might just wake up tomorrow and find her frozen in a block of ice. It would take a lot of blow dryers to try and defrost her. 

Was she being overdramatic? A little bit. But anyone would be too if they were in her shoes. Freezing their ass off with no possible solution. Would anyone judge her if she just crashed on the living room couch? She’d rather not deal with any questions or mockery. But what else could be done?

She could always kick someone out of their room. Someone who wasn’t as sensitive to the cold as she was. Or maybe a solution was right in front of her. 

She has been talking to Wanda recently. Nothing too serious but nothing either of them could deny. It was her go to strategy to cuddle up next to Mac during weather like this. But he was obviously not an option anymore. She didn’t know if she’d turn to him now anyway. 

Would it be too forward to show up in her room in the middle of the night? She wasn’t stupid, she knew what the implication was. Not that she hated the idea. It wasn’t that she wasn’t incredibly attracted to her, she just knew this wasn’t the way to initiate anything. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. It was in the team’s best interest that she got a good night's sleep. How could she possibly lead when the cold was preventing her from getting any sleep? Even if she didn’t buy that line, surely Wanda would take pity on her.

Her room wasn’t a ridiculous distance either. Heather being the leader and Wanda being the person who very graciously offered a family property for their base of operations, they naturally got the two best rooms. Just a hall down. It wouldn’t even take a minute to reach her. 

“Worth a shot,” she mumbled to herself, walking towards the door. The floor was trying everything it could to stop her. Part of her was beginning to wonder if this really was the best room. Wanda’s must not get this cold. All the more reason to embark on this journey. 

What she wouldn’t give to just have someone hold her. It had been so long since she slept in a bed with someone else. As complicated as her feelings about Mac were lately, she missed that. She missed a feeling of arms wrapped around her and a body pressed against hers. She didn’t like sleeping alone. She was getting tired of it. 

The hallway wasn’t as cold as her room, thank god. She had to admit that this place tended to give her the heebie jeebies. In her defense, it was an old, isolated, manor that had been abandoned for god knows how long. If Wanda’s story was true, her uneasiness wasn’t completely unfounded. 

They’ve done some light redecorating. Nothing too serious, just trying to get rid of the haunted mansion vibes. No one objected to moving the creepier portraits to a place where their painted eyes wouldn’t follow them. In fact, almost all of them were eager to help. 

Just because the hall wasn’t seemingly cursed with its own polar vortex like her room was didn’t mean that Heather was content to be out here. The chills still managed to bite her despite all her layers. All she could pray for is that this little trip wouldn’t be for nothing. 

She hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. What if she was making everything awkward? Hell, if someone just walked into her room in the middle of the night, she would probably sock them in the face on instinct. It didn’t matter what her intentions were, it would probably read as creepy. 

Well, it wasn’t like they were just coworkers. The way they’ve been flirting with each other it wouldn’t surprise her if the other Alphans assumed they were already together. And Wanda did tell her not to be a stranger. Paired with a wink as well. It wouldn’t be as outrageous as she was trying to tell herself it was. 

Locked. She jiggled it again just to make sure. In hind sight, she didn’t know why she thought it wouldn’t be. It was a long shot from conception, she knew that. At least she had a plan B. Grab some of those quilts from her room and crash on the couch. 

It wouldn’t be that bad, she supposed. Really, anything was better than staying in that room. Maybe she could come up with an innovative way to solve this problem by tomorrow night. She didn’t really want to make sleeping on the couch a habit. 

“Heather?” A tired voice called out to her as she was walking down the hall. “What are you doing up this late?” 

“Oh, umm…” Caught in the act. She turned around to see the tall woman peeking out the doorway. It was strange, even when she was sleeping she looked more put together than Heather normally did. Even with her hair tied up under some sort of silk scarf and those gel masks under her eyes, she managed to be absolutely breathtaking. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“Not at all,” Wanda shook her head but her yawn told her that was exactly what she did. “What’s up?” 

“It’s– it’s nothing, really,” she denied. She didn’t know how to say it. Now that she was confronted with the scenario she was seeking out she felt foolish. A grown ass woman who couldn’t handle a little bit of cold. It was laughable. 

“It’s nothing?” She smiled at her as she stepped out of the doorway. Giving Heather a good view of her matching pajama set. Light blue with lacey trimming. It made her shiver just looking at her. “So you came down just because?”

“No, it’s not like that,” she denied when she saw that smirk on her face. Another shiver shot up her body as Wanda stepped closer to her. 

“Really?” She let out a light laugh and put her hand on her shoulder. “What is it like then, Heather?” 

“I’m cold,” she finally admitted with a sigh. “It’s insanely cold in my room to the point I couldn’t go to sleep so I just thought–” 

“What? You’re trying to kick me out of my room?” Wanda teased her with a smile. “Invoking eminent domain in the middle of the night? That’s cruel, even for you, hot stuff.” 

“I’m not,” she defended herself against her attack. “I just thought… Y’know, I just thought that I could…” 

“Sleep in my bed?!” She let out a dramatic gasp that made Heather roll her eyes. “Golly gosh, what would everyone think?” 

“Don’t make fun of me,” she pushed on the taller woman's shoulder. “I’m desperate. I wouldn’t even be bothering you at such an insane time if I wasn’t. Please, Wanda, I’m–” 

“Oh you don’t have to beg me,” Wanda laughed, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You’re just lucky that I have a soft spot for pretty women in need of my help.” 

“And if I wasn’t pretty?” Heather raised her eyebrow as she was being practically dragged into her room. 

“And what if the earth didn’t revolve around the sun?” She shrugged. “What if you weren’t pretty? That’s nonsensical, Heather.” 

“If you insist,” she laughed, looking around at Wanda’s room. Had a hell of a lot more personality than her own did. Simple things like a stained glass lamp and a stunning blue bed spread made a world of difference. 

But she didn’t have much time to look around. It was her fault entirely that she gave Wanda a job to do. She was using all her strength to get Heather onto the bed. In another situation this might have excited her. In this situation, she really was tired. 

“Well, if you need someone to warm you up, you came to the right gal,” Wanda said as she pulled the cover back for her. “I have to warn you though, I’m a grade A cuddle bug.”

“Is that so?” Heather wasted no time crawling into the bed. The mattress was a bit firmer than her own. It was also noticeably warmer.

“So much so it caused problems in plenty of previous relationships,” she admitted, scooting right next to her. The heat from her body alone was almost enough to draw a moan out of her. But Heather had enough shame to hold it back. “I’ve been debating just going out and buying some teddy bear. I just like having something to hold in my arms.”

“Well, you’re in luck because I love to be cuddled,” she reassured her, nuzzling her frozen nose into her neck. 

“Then we must be compatible,” Wanda shivered a bit as Heather continued to bury her face into her. “God, you are cold.” 

“Did you think I was lying or something?” 

“It would’ve been a pretty good one,” She wrapped her arms around her. “Even if you were lying, I still would’ve let you in.” 

“You should’ve never told me that,” Heather laughed, wrapping her own arms around Wanda. She couldn’t help it, she didn’t want to lose the sensation of her body against hers. 

“What, you’re just going to try and sneak into my room again?” She gasped. “Well, good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll tell you I have a heightened sense when it comes to beautiful women planning to take advantage of my body heat. I’ll smell you coming from a mile away.” 

“Never say that again, you sound like Logan,” she mumbled, feeling herself start to drift off. 

“Now that hurts,” Wanda responded, twirling a piece of hair from her ponytail. As much as she wanted to stay up, stay in this moment, she was actually tired. She didn’t actually walk here to flirt with Wanda, as fun as they both seemed to find it. 

She came here because she was warm. She was warm and obliging no matter how ridiculous her request seemed. No matter how ridiculous she felt asking for it. Waking her up in the middle of the night just because she wanted to cuddle. 

She guessed that it was just because Wanda wanted to help her. It was a mutually beneficial situation. Heather got someone to hold her and Wanda got someone to hold. Maybe they should do this more often. 

Maybe they should just convert Heather’s room into some sort of private study. Maybe they should cut out the middle man and just stay together every night. Maybe they should just go ahead and marry each other so she wouldn’t have to deny herself of this feeling ever again. 

Maybe she should just go to sleep before she made any rash decisions. It was just one night. She didn’t have to think about forever. All she needed to do was rest. Let herself drift off as she felt Wanda’s chest rise and fall with each breath. 

“You don’t have to worry about the cold anymore,” she whispered when she must’ve been sure Heather was asleep. “My sweet, darling, Heather, I’ll make sure you’ll never be cold again.” 

She felt Wanda plant a kiss to her forehead before she felt her body start to grow in her arms. Even in this half-awake state, she knew what was happening. Heather said she was cold and Wanda, being a problem solver, decided the easiest way to warm her up was to bring Sasquatch to the party. 

Heather couldn’t lie even if she wanted to. It felt nice. So nice to be completely enveloped in her strong arms and her white fur. And she held her like she was afraid to lose her. Like if Wanda didn’t hold her right against her chest, she’d just disintegrate. Held her the way that she’s been wanting to be held for so long.

Mac never held her like that. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to. It seemed as if Wanda was the only person alive who could fulfill this need. The only person capable of surrounding her with the warmth she needed. So much warmth that she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to go to sleep because if she did, she’d be missing this feeling. She didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and have it be over. 

Would it be too forward to say she never wanted to leave? Their other teammates could go fuck themselves. It was only going to get colder after all. Staying right here in this bed until spring came again didn’t sound bad at all. 

“Ehh, I usually just go to a deli when I don’t want to cook for myself,” she shrugged, leaning down to look at the variety of treats sitting on the top shelf. No doubt that they were from this morning. Not that that mattered to me, it was still good as ever. “But delis don’t usually have cherry pie.” 

“Downside to everything,” I looked up as the waitress approached us. Greeted us with a smile despite the absurd time we walked in. “Good evening, Marlene.” 

“Good evening, ladies,” the smirk on her face told me what she thought about me walking in with a mysterious woman. Not that she was wrong. “What can I do for ya tonight?” 

“Just two slices of cherry pie and we’ll be out of your hair,” I pulled my wallet out of the pocket of my coat. 

“Of course,” she smiled, taking the rest of the pie out of the case. Almost two thirds of it left. “That’ll just be six bucks.” 

“Mhm,” I hummed, pulling the bills out as she started to put foil over the entire dish. “Marlene, I just want two slices.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” she nodded, “but I ain’t gonna sell it in the next ten minutes and I’d rather you take it than just throw it in the trash.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna say no,” I laughed, sneaking a ten into the tip jar. She winked at me as she slid it over. As if her giving me free pie was making me look better in Wanda’s eyes or something. “Thank you.”

“Have a good night, ladies!” She called out as we walked out the door.

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to be the diner gossip in the morning,” Wanda laughed. 

“Probably just made her week,” I sighed, looking down at the tin foil that reflected the dim streetlights. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with all this pie.” 

“Oh, I got some colleagues I can throw it to,” she joked as she reached into her pocket for her car keys. “I’m sure no one would complain about free pie.”

“No one but me,” I pointed out. The lights of her car blinked as she unlocked it. I wasn’t going to lie and say I wasn’t curious what the whole situation with it was. God knows she didn’t drive all the way across the country. Could you rent a car for six months? I didn’t think that whoever was running it would provide a car like that. Maybe she was just using one of her coworkers' cars. 

Not that any of this mattered. I didn’t really care how she got it as long as it brought us back to my house. As long as it got us there fast. The anticipation hadn’t dissipated in the slightest. I was starting to feel it as my lower abdomen was twisting itself into a knot. 

I couldn’t help it if I was horny. It had been so long since I’ve actually had sex. About six months since I made my way down to Vancouver. I had already determined long ago that I was shit out of luck for anything local. The only other lesbians in this town were teenagers who didn’t have the means to leave yet. If I wanted anything, it had to be by my own hand. 

I was still trying to get over the shock of Wanda. Of this beautiful woman who I couldn’t even dream of being interested in me. It was ridiculous to even think about. That someone like her, someone who could have anyone she wanted, would go after someone like me. I mean, I knew I wasn’t beautiful. I never cared enough to try. But she still sat next to me. She was still driving to my house. 

It was a short drive. Less than a minute. I debated not even putting my seatbelt on. It would only delay what I so desperately wanted. What I could only assume she wanted too. None of this little dance we were doing would make sense if she didn’t. 

The porch light illuminated a small patch of my yellow siding. Did nothing to show the driveway but I guess that’s what headlights were for. She still managed to figure it out, parking right up against my truck. Just enough room for me to get out. Maybe a bit hard for me to maneuver while holding the pie but nothing I couldn’t handle. 

It took her a few seconds to follow after me. I was already putting my keys into the deadbolt when I heard the car door shut. I turned my head to see her standing a good two steps behind me. “Are you a vampire or something?” 

“Just making sure I wasn’t misreading the situation,” she laughed, walking up to my small porch. 

“The situation is that I’m holding your pie hostage until you come in,” I teased, holding it out in front of her. 

“Oh so the pie was just some bargaining chip?” She raised her eyebrow as we both entered the living room. The only light came from a dim table lamp next to the couch.

“You thought I was just doing it out of the kindness of my heart?” I walked over and set the tin on my counter. I’d have to worry about putting it into the fridge later. I couldn’t waste the steps right now. Not while Wanda was standing so close behind me. 

Her perfume was becoming more and more noticeable as she put her hands on my waist. Almost enough to make my breath hitch. I hope she couldn’t tell how anxious I was about all this. I shouldn’t be as nervous as I was. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had sex before. With women far more beautiful than I was. 

But never like this. Never at my house. It was always in hotel rooms or the other girl’s shitty apartment. No, this was different. This was unexpected. Her fingers were pressing into the soft tissue of my torso. And she smelled so good. And it’s been so long. 

I didn’t know what to say. Did I even have to say anything? I didn’t have any doubt that we both knew what we wanted. That we both wanted the same exact thing. God, I needed her so bad, I didn’t even care how. 

I turned around and her blue eyes met mine. Even in the dim light of my living room I could tell she was wearing makeup. Typical for a woman like her. I wanted nothing more than to ruin it. To kiss her until that dark red sheen on her lip was all but gone. Make her sweat until her foundation melted off her face. Until her mascara and eyeliner started to run onto her cheeks. Until there was nothing that stood between us. 

“God, you're so beautiful, Heather,” she whispered into my ear as she started to kiss along my jawline. 

“Don’t lie to me,” I rolled my eyes. She didn’t need to flatter me. I was already here, I was already doing this.

“I’m not lying,” she mumbled against my skin, pressing her fingers into my waist again for emphasis. I returned the favor, rubbing my hands against her back. Trying to feel as much of her as I could. And there was a lot to feel. 

“If anyone’s beautiful, it’s you,” I didn’t know why I was arguing. Maybe it just seemed absurd to me. Compared to her, I was nothing special. I wasn’t delusional about that. 

“Can’t we both be beautiful?” She asked, pulling back as we made eye contact again. Her glasses were slightly askew. I moved one of my hands to straighten them. The action made her laugh a bit. “They’re only going to get in the way.” 

“If I’m that beautiful, you’d want to see me,” I teased her as she pulled me flush against her. All she did was roll her eyes at me before shutting me up with her lips. They tasted like cherry candy. The type that was sickly sweet and shared little resemblance with the real thing. Between the perfume and the lipstick and the color of her glasses frame, it wasn’t hard to tell she had a preference. 

I didn’t have it in me to argue anymore. I could run my mouth all night long or I could feel her lips against mine. I could insist that I wasn’t beautiful or I could lead her to my couch. Push her back onto it and crawl on top of her. Straddling her lap and grinding against her as she continued to cover my lips with the cherry flavor. 

Wanda’s hands were making their way under my sweater. Her fingers were cold against my back. It wasn’t a hard thing to accomplish. I could feel my temperature rise every time our lips crashed together. It was only going to get in the way after all. 

I started to pull at the hem. My coordination wasn’t the best right now but how much coordination did I need to take my shirt off? Obviously more than I expected considering how much I was struggling. Wanda just smiled at my effort before helping me. Quickly pulling it over my head, leaving my hair sticking up in seven different directions and my glasses lopsided. I fixed them but it didn't matter. Even if I looked crazy it wasn’t like she’d notice. Her eyes were glued to my tits. 

“Like what you see?” I teased. It wasn’t like they were much to look at. I knew they were average, leaning more towards the smaller side. Covered with freckles that I had to admit I was still self conscious of. It wasn’t like my bra was anything to write home about either. A clearance rack number somewhere between mint and seafoam green that had started to show its age three years ago. But she was looking at them like none of that mattered. No, she looked at them like they were the most perfect pair she’d ever seen. 

She didn’t bother to respond to my question. Her hands went straight to them. Her mouth found a new fixation on my collarbone. It was enough to shut me up as she alternated between soft kisses and gentle nibbles. As her hands massaged my chest over my bra. I didn’t have a comeback. No witty commentary. I doubted if I could produce real words in this state. It was getting harder and harder to ignore what she was doing to me. 

I rocked back and forth against her hips. Subtle and involuntary. I just wanted to relieve the tension that was building beneath my stomach. I’d do anything if it meant she’d fuck me right this second. 

I reached for the bottom of her wine red blouse. Silky and draping across her chest like it was tailored specifically to her body. As hot as it was, as perfectly it fit her, I desperately needed to see what was underneath it. Luckily, I didn’t need to say anything. She got the clue and pulled it straight over her head. 

She threw it straight on the ground, no regard for where it landed. A blouse like that would wrinkle if you looked at it wrong but she didn’t care. I didn’t either. I only had so much attention and it was all being spent on her tits. 

Her bra was pale pink. Lacey. Some fancy type of cut that presented them perfectly. Not that they needed them. Hers were truly magnificent and I wasn’t saying that just because I was practically humping her thigh. The type that every girl would aspire to after seeing them in that one magazine their dad forgot to hide. The type people pay thousands of dollars for only to fall just short of them. The type that I thought didn’t exist and they were right in front of me. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teased me back, lifting my gaze with a finger under my chin. I opened my mouth but words failed to form. Hell, thoughts failed to form. All I could do was look at her face. Her cheeks were flushed. Several platinum blonde curls had fallen out of that simple updo. Enough that she just pulled out the big silver pin and discarded it with our shirts. 

My face was only getting hotter. Part of me hoped that the lighting was low enough not to show the shade of tomato red I knew I was. My ears were burning up. I knew the cider that I had what seemed like forever ago wasn’t helping. But she didn’t seem to notice. At least not as much as I did. 

Wanda ran her thumb over my cheeks. Sporting a devilish smile that stretched to her eyes. If I could possibly blush more, I would’ve. It didn’t take much longer until two fingers pulled my bottom lip into a pout. She didn’t need to say anything, I knew what she wanted me to do. 

I obediently opened my mouth. Maybe in a less charged state I’d feel ashamed about what I was doing for her. For someone I just met a few hours ago. No one more than a beautiful person at the bar. Her fingers snaked into me and pressed down on my tongue. And I sucked them. Sucked them as her blue eyes stared right into my soul. Like she knew this was going to happen when our eyes first met in the convenience store. 

I was a mess. She was turning me into a mess. I liked to think of myself as composed. Level-headed. Someone who didn’t play games. But I wasn’t tonight. I was putty in her perfect hands. The things I would do if it meant she’d take care of the problem between my legs. God, I didn’t know how much longer I could handle this. 

One of my hands went down to the waistband of her pants. Putting a few fingers beneath the fabric of those fancy slacks. I wanted to see all of her. I wanted to feel all of her. I wanted to do to her exactly what she was doing to me. Make her feel this good. Make her feel this crazy. 

“Eager, aren’t ya?” She almost laughed as she moved my hand up to her breasts. The next best thing if you ask me. All I could do was nod. There wasn’t much talking I could do with her long fingers still pressing against my tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.” 

She used her free hand to unbutton my jeans. I lifted my hips only slightly to give her better access. I didn’t want to lose the sensation but I also didn’t want to miss out on the one she wanted to give me. If she wanted to help me, I wasn’t going to stop her. 

She withdrew her fingers from my mouth. I almost whimpered at the loss of the feeling. God, if I wasn’t buzzed, I might just be embarrassed for my actions. But I decided not to ruin this for myself as she brought the saliva covered hand further and further down. A little unnecessary lubricant. I don’t think I’ve been this wet in my life. 

She practically groaned as her hand dipped beneath my panties. Nice to know that I was making her feel it too. My hands still cupped her breasts. Feeling the heavy weight of them in my palms as her fingers found their way inside of me. My breath hiked at the intrusion which only made her smirk. 

Her fingers were long and slender. If she hadn’t already told me she was a scientist, I would’ve assumed she was a pianist. Especially considering how talented she was with them. I wasn’t going to lie and say my experiences have all been positive. Mostly it was enthusiastic but overall ineffective. A messy sloshing of fingers where I had to put in more effort than they were just to come. 

But Wanda knew what she was doing. She knew exactly what would make me tick. Like she knew my pussy better than I did. She pistoned them into me and the rhythm never faltered. Maybe I needed to do more. Put some effort in to make her lose it. 

I started to massage her breasts as she started to kiss me again. A bit firmer than I was expecting. Nothing that I’ve ever felt before. Well, it was good to know that I shouldn’t feel so self conscious about mine. Not that I was judging. More power to her for getting the most perfect pair of tits. They were worth every single penny she paid for them. 

She almost drew a gasp from me and her thumb ran over my clit. I was closer than I wanted to be. If it was up to me, I could ride her fingers until the sun came up. I wanted to feel this good forever. I never wanted her to stop. I never wanted to leave the couch. 

Her tongue filled the space that was left empty by her fingers. I wasn’t complaining one bit. If she didn’t do anything to muffle me we might just be interrupted by an angry knock on the door. Not that I would care that much. They could hate me all they wanted. God knows no one has ever made them feel like this. 

I moaned straight into her mouth as my hips started to move erratically. There wasn’t any stopping it now. No more trying to deny or delay it. I needed to release it. I needed to let myself be relieved of all this pent up tension. 

I’m sure that Wanda noticed it too. She started to speed up. Her fingers moved inside me like she knew exactly what I needed to be pushed over the edge. A few more strokes of my clit. A few more pumps and I was about ready to scream. 

I would’ve if she wasn’t occupying my mouth. What I did do was moan as loud as I could with her tongue shoved down my throat. I practically collapsed onto her. Letting my chest meet hers. Nothing standing between us. Nothing stopping us from being as close as we wanted to be. 

She took the initiative to separate our lips. Staring straight at me as she took her fingers to her mouth. Having no reservations about tasting me. Even after all of that, I had never been more turned on in my life. 

I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to make her feel the same way she made me feel. But my eyelids were heavy. My coordination hadn’t improved in the slightest. As much as she deserved it, as rude as it was, I didn’t have it in me. 

She must’ve noticed as she stroked the back of my head. I hoped she didn’t mind. Hell, I would’ve been pissed if I didn’t get to cum. I’d just have to make it up to her the next time. I hoped with everything I had that there would be a next time. 

“How can I not?” She sniffled, trying not to cry. There was no use crying about it. “They hate me. We’re supposed to be teammates and they all hate me.” 

“That’s just because they aren’t good teammates, that has nothing to do with you,” she argued, handing her a tissue. “Those little twerps are egomaniacs in training, just like their jackass fathers.” 

“I just don’t get it,” she waved the tissue away. “Coach Jack says I’m good. He says that the team wouldn’t win a game without me and they still said that none of them want me on the team. What do I have to do? How good do I have to be?” 

“Sweetheart, they hate you because you’re good,” she put her hand on her shoulder. “They hate you because they can’t stand that a girl is skating circles around them. Because their dads told them that they should automatically be better than you by virtue of what’s in their pants but they aren’t. They’re intimidated by you, that’s why they’re trying to bully you off the team.” 

“But why would I want to be on a team with people who don’t want me there?” She asked, not looking up from the rainbow dye bleeding into the white ice cream as she still swirled the vortex. “I don’t want to be on a team with them.” 

“You can’t let them win, Heather,” the older woman shook her head. “You’re going to walk into the next practice with your head held high and you’re going to give them plenty more reasons to be intimidated by you because you’re not going to let a couple of snot-nosed twerps ruin hockey for you.”

Heather sighed, sniffing back another tear. The thought of going back there on Thursday, entering the rink to the glares of all the boys on her team, didn’t feel good. But that’s what they wanted. Like everyone else, they wanted her to know her place. They wanted her to believe that she didn’t belong there. She didn’t believe that. 

“You’re not going to quit this, Heather. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” She looked up from her melting ice cream.

“Because the LA Sirens don’t hire any quitters,” she reminded her, lightly tugging on the purple and silver bow she made her. “I’ll talk to Coach Jack about it. Meanwhile, eat your damn ice cream. Your mom would be about ready to kill me if she found out I’m letting you spoil your dinner.” 

Heather couldn’t help but smile as her grandma put her seatbelt on again. As much as she didn’t want to walk back there, she was right. Those boys were only acting tough because they knew they couldn’t beat her. No matter how nasty they were, she was going to walk back in there every time. No matter how hard it was. If she ever wanted to wear that purple and silver jersey, she couldn’t give up. 

~~~✩~~~✩~~~✩~~~

Even after all this time, Heather still wasn’t used to this place. It’s hard to transition from that big suburban mansion in the exclusive gated neighborhood to an economical city apartment. But then again, it wasn’t like she had a choice. 

She had to give up that cushy life. Give up her comfy bed and her rose garden that she was always so proud of. As much as she didn’t want to wake up to all the noises of Toronto, it was just the hand she had left. 

No one would judge her for saying it’s a shitty hand. One that’s bound to lose even with the best poker face she could muster. Compared to the life she used to have, it just seemed quite sad. That’s what all those tabloids were saying anyway. Everyone’s advice was just to ignore them but it’s borderline impossible if she's faced with them every time she tries to get groceries. 

She sighed and threw those drab covers of herself after the third excessive car horn of the morning. Maybe she’d feel better if the apartment wasn’t covered in various shades of greige. Maybe she’d feel better if she didn’t wake up to shooting pain in her leg. Maybe she’d feel better if none of this year happened. 

Still, she had to get up. She had to get to work. As shitty as her life seemed, she was never one to lay down and rot in her misery. The last thing she needed was to lose this too. The only place that was willing to take a chance on her.

She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and almost cursed. Another thing Heather wasn’t quite used to yet. She kept forgetting her leg was borderline useless at this point. Well, not completely useless. She just had to spend 30 minutes stretching every single morning and have hour-long physical therapy sessions twice a week and avoid stairs and avoid walking much at all. Every week she’d ask that doctor if it was ever going to get better. Every week he’d give her a sympathetic smile and say that miracles happened all the time. 

Might as well get used to the pain. It wasn’t like anyone had much faith in it going anywhere. All she could really do was push through. Keep trying to go about her day and act like it wasn’t killing her. 

It didn’t help that she didn’t think about the fact this apartment was on the third floor when she signed the lease. It also didn’t help that the elevator never worked and the landlord didn’t really give a shit. If she told her doctor that, she knew she’d be met with a heavy sigh. But unfortunately for both of them, there wasn’t shit she could do about it. 

A couple seconds, a couple deep breaths, and she stood up. Last year, she would’ve been up and at ‘em almost two hours before this. However, it wasn’t last year. She had no goddamn reason to rise before the sun anymore. 

At least the window had a nice view. As nice as a view of the city could be. She could see the sun. There wasn’t a building obscuring the view of, well, other buildings. Maybe it wouldn’t be as shitty if she was twenty and still had something that resembled optimism. But she wasn’t in her twenties anymore. Now a place like this just felt a bit pathetic. 

Today was a big day. Or at least she was trying to convince herself that it was. First day of hockey practice. She always liked the first day the most. Seeing all the faces, familiar and fresh. Getting a feel for everyone on the team and trying to figure out how the team would mesh together. All that anticipation for the season ahead made her smile like a damn fool. Except now it was different. She wasn’t on the ice anymore. 

It’s only the most classic move. Retire from the pros and go into coaching. Of course, she imagined that she still had a few years and a couple more trophies to knock out before she had to consider it. And she never considered that she’d go so low as to teach high school hockey but a lot happened. A lot changed. For lack of a better term, she was desperate. 

Heather made her way to the kitchen. A far cry from what she was used to for the past fifteen years. God, had it really been that long? Practically half her life dedicated to that man and look where she ended up. Maybe she was just mad that she had to do everything in a damn kitchenette now. She could be mad that she didn’t have the energy to fight for the good blender. Or maybe she was mad that no matter how late she decided to make her breakfast smoothie or how ‘comfortably quiet’ the blender advertised itself to be, her downstairs neighbor always seemed to have a problem with her. 

She took a deep breath and tried to ignore them hitting the ceiling. The almost immediate response told her that they were in fact not asleep. Less than a minute and apparently it was too fucking much for them. 

“Shouldn’t be in a fucking apartment if you can’t stand noise,” she grumbled to herself as she turned it off. The dark purple drink was starting to bore her. The idea of another morning filled with that blueberry banana spinach acai made her want to skip it all together. But she still had a giant bag of that mix left and she wasn’t in much of a position to waste it. 

Skipping breakfast wasn’t an option either. Taking meds on an empty stomach is a mistake she only needed to make once. If a smoothie and two pieces of peanut butter toast prevented her from vomiting in her trashcan, she’d take it with a smile. It was a far cry from what she had been accustomed to but comparing her life to what it was before would only make her more miserable. 

It’s funny, she used to do so much exercise before most people even woke up and now the simple leg stretches felt like a chore. An extremely monotonous and time consuming and worthless chore. She couldn’t really do anything but listen to some playlist or audiobook while she was doing it. And she wasn’t even sure she was doing them right half the time. If these stretches were really helping her leg, then why did it hurt like hell for a good hour after? It would be less effort to just chop it off at this point. 

But she found out quickly through all that therapy she’s been going through on the recommendation of anyone who had a passing conversation with that that was an inside thought. Those stuck up snobs and their leather couches couldn’t take a fucking joke to save their lives. Like it was a crime to not be optimistic about her mess of a life. 

She thought she was doing enough to prove that she was trying. Going to all those appointments, getting a job, not crying the second his name was mentioned. They didn’t need to know everything else that was going on. Like the fact she had to hype herself up to get out of bed in the morning. Like the fact she had to take multiple deep breaths before she walked into that school just to be sure she wasn’t going to break down. 

And if she was in the mood to prove she was trying, it was probably best to try and get to work on time. There were too few hours in the morning. How could she possibly wake up, make breakfast, do her stretches, take care of her plants, make lunch, get dressed, grade those assignments she neglected last night and get there before 7:30am?

There was no use complaining about it really. This was what she signed up for after all. This was what she said she could do. The personal ‘comeback’ to prove to everyone that she wasn’t letting it get to her. All she had to do was throw on her clothes. The black pants she’d been rotating the past few weeks. A green sweater that people always seemed to say looked good on her. She could use the compliments today. 

Tied her hair up on a ponytail and brushed her bangs until they laid right. She never bothered with makeup and wasn’t going to start now. Luckily, she already packed her bag last night. One less thing to worry about before she left for the day. Well, there was one thing she couldn’t forget. God knows the day would be a disaster without it. But as she opened the fridge door she hoped that this wouldn’t set the trend for the day. 

“Need to get some Saturday,” she sighed before grabbing her phone out of her pocket. Typing a simple ‘monster’ on her crude grocery list. As much as she wasn’t trying to spend money, living without her energy drinks would just be torture. 

Luckily, they had some in the vending machine in the teachers lounge. She just needed to delay her caffeine by ten minutes. It wasn’t going to kill her. One set back wasn’t going to ruin her entire day before a lot of people were even up. One deep breath and she opened the front door. 

She knew she should be excited. Not really back in the saddle but it was as close as she was going to get. Coaching was better than nothing. Sitting on the sidelines was better than giving it up entirely. She didn’t dedicate twenty six years of her life to the sport just to lose the thing she loved. 

Maybe it wasn’t going to be bad. Maybe she’ll have a stroke of luck for once. After all the shit she’s been through, surely she was owed an easy time. A competent team that already had their head on their shoulders. Maybe the last coach didn’t quit out of frustration. 

Heather shouldn’t be so worried. It was still eight hours until the practice. She had to get through a full school day before she had to even confront it. And before that she had to drive there to begin with. No use getting ahead of herself. 

She threw her bag on the passenger seat as she hopped into the car. Another downgrade that she had to deal with. Not that it was a real shitbox. Even with all the misfortune that seemed to find her, she knew she still had it better than most people. It was just hard to be grateful for what she still had when everything reminded her of what she didn’t. 

Just a short drive. A short drive and then she’d have her energy drink and she could give today a fair shot. Nothing has gone wrong so far. She really had no reason to act as grumpy as she had been. 

All she had to do was put on a couple songs and let all those thoughts fall to the wayside. How was she ever going to teach those kids if she couldn’t stop feeling sorry for herself?  How was she ever going to get past this if she couldn’t even go to work? No she could. She could do this. She told everyone that she could do this. 

Her therapist told her to find things to be happy about. Find things to be grateful for. Things that didn’t remind her of everything. She still had her music. She could play it more now that Mac wasn’t here to bitch about it. Traffic wasn’t as bad as she was anticipating. She could still get her white monster. Well, she could in theory.

“Goddammit,” she mumbled to herself as she stared into the cold harsh light of the vending machine. More specifically at the can that got itself stuck between the shelf and glass. The last thing she needed, really. Practically wasting 3 dollars and not even hitting the machine was making it budge. 

“That one’s the problem child,” A voice called out from behind her as she sighed in frustration. “Always trying to steal everyone’s money.” 

“She’s succeeding so far,” Heather turned and saw the taller woman walking towards her. 

“You gotta hit it a specific way,” she explained, bringing her fist down on the top corner, almost instantly freeing the can from the compromising position. “Trust me, we’ve been trying to get them to replace it for years at this point.” 

“And they just won’t?” She leaned down to grab the savior of her mood. 

“I’m pretty sure they’re gunning on the unsuspecting staff to put in their money and have no one to so bravely save them,” she smiled at her. “A wicked scheme.” 

“Well, thank you for your valiant dedication to me and my wallet, Wanda,” she laughed as she stood back up. “Where would I ever be without you?” 

“You’d be down a white monster, first of all,” she joked. “But there’s no need to thank me, I know first hand that the first practice of a season is going to be a disaster if you don’t get your caffeine.” 

“So I should be worried?” 

“Well, my first year with the football team I’m pretty sure they had a ranking of who could prank me the most,” Wanda started to explain, “but surely the hockey girls aren’t the right mix of immature and intense to plan something like that.” 

“That instills me with so much confidence,” she joked as they made their way out of the teacher’s lounge. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, I mean what’s the worst they could do?” 

“Famous last words,” she shook her head. “You’d be surprised, it’s like they drop new methods to piss us off every day.”

“As long as they don’t call me Mrs. Hudson, I’ll survive,” she sighed. 

“Oh, please, for about a full year after I came out, it’s like they were dedicated to calling me Ms. Langkowski,” she laughed. “I mean, if I knew that transitioning would negate all my degrees I would’ve thought about it a bit harder.” 

The halls were still empty. Still about fifteen minutes before the students started to pour in. It always weirded her out to be the only person walking down the hall. Like she wasn’t supposed to be out here. Of course she was, it just took some time to get used to this whole teaching thing. 

It wasn’t that bad, she supposed. Got some use out of that English degree she tried to convince everyone was essential. When she got it, she didn’t imagine this was the way she’d use it. When she was twenty something she couldn’t even conceive that this would be her life. 

“You really have nothing to worry about,” Wanda reassured her before they reached the STEM hall, “I’ve taught and for lack of a better word, experienced most of them and they’re good kids.”