It was only the middle of the afternoon, but Maris was feeling a bit more sluggish than she would have liked. The heat and humidity certainly played a factor, but the fact that she really had drank three iced coffees in quick succession was probably the main culprit. What caffeine brought up, it eventually brought crashing back down.

Summer had arrived quickly and with a vengeance. Since she couldn't really justify turning using the air conditioning so early into June, she took her reading (and her cat) outside where there was a slight breeze to provide occasional relief. There was a worn but sturdy bench under a shade tree in the front yard. Though Maris usually liked when Byron curled up beside her on it, it was too hot to have him laying all over. He looked wounded when she shooed him away, but eventually laid down at her feet. The weather was clearly making him miserable too, but he was still rambunctious enough to raise a paw and halfheartedly swat at any insects that flew by.

Maris hadn't exactly taken her texts with Rory seriously. Their talk of her stopping by was just playful banter, a way to pass the time, but when she heard the sound of a car approaching on her nearly quiet street, she looked up from her book, using a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

In all honesty, Aurora didn't think she'd end up there. After locking up her office, she was indeed headed straight for the coffee shop. It seemed to her that the latter half of the week was really where she lost steam, just when she should be launching into a really fun weekend of some sort with her fiancée. Jess loved to hike, and Rory loved to sit in the sunshine reading a book. There were compromises to be made in every relationship, but sometimes it was just exhausting. Not to rag on her relationship, of course.

Before she knew it, she was sipping on a strong iced latte and navigating the streets of her (their) small town. At one point, taking her home would mean turning left, but once at the stop sign, she somehow turned her car to the right. Another few stops, and then she was outside of Maris' house. She wouldn't be expected home for a while yet, so really why shouldn't she drop in and visit her friend? Maybe because of the way her stomach currently decided to flip as she glanced over to see Maris sitting there in the front yard. Rory stopped herself from allowing herself to picture this being a certain norm.

"Hot as hell out here, huh?" She called as she got out of the car, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose as she walked over towards Maris. Her white capri pants and soft pink tank were a bold choice for deciding on a coffee, but with summer boldly here already, she didn't want to wear the jacket she'd had on at the office. Thank god for the cat, who seemed mildly interested in her as she bent to coax it towards her to scratch his ears. At least it gave her something to focus on rather than staring at Maris. "So this is the man I've heard so much about."

"He's in my bed every night," Maris said, a smile playing on her lips. They both knew a human male had never gotten anywhere near her bedroom in her entire life.

The weather was warm enough to finally send Maris' blazers back into the closet, though her wardrobe remained as dark as ever. Her tank top was black lace and paired with matching Bermuda shorts, a silver star of David twinkling at her throat. She'd worn it daily as a teenager, but stopped once she admitted she was more of a cultural Jew than a spiritual one. But the jewelry had been a bat mitzvah gift from her grandfather and she'd started wearing it again after his passing in an effort to feel close to him.

"You want to come inside?" she offered. "I don't think he likes it out here as much as he usually does."

The only blue house on the block was also one of the smallest, but it was still too big for a single woman and her cat. Since she had no intention of keeping it (or even staying very long) the home was sparser than she would have liked, but she was settled in enough to feel okay about letting in one of her first visitors.

She let Rory in through the back door that lead into the kitchen, Byron running ahead and immediately collapsing on the cool tile by the fridge. While Maris didn't have the air running, the house's many ceiling fans did a pretty good job of keeping things cool.

"Tea? I have my hibiscus."

Maris had always been borderline obsessed with a hibiscus blend from their local tea shop, which she was now buying in bulk online. She usually drank it iced after throwing four or five bags into a pitcher of water on the windowsill, leaving it in the sun to steep. Whenever students asked what the weird, red concoction she was drinking was, she'd joked that she was "pulling an Elizabeth Bathory" and was always disappointed when only a few seemed to get the joke.

Her kitchen was as tidy as her last one, though there was a pile of mail on the kitchen counter. The mail was slower than usual here, with hers usually arriving late into the afternoon, but she had been particularly pleased by something she received that morning.

"I'm glad you're here. I need a local to..." She rummaged through the pile, a perfume sample falling out of one of her magazines and onto the floor to be dealt with later. "Have you heard about this?" she asked, holding up an envelope from the local historical society. "This black tie charity ball? The tickets are cheap. I was thinking of going but I wasn't sure if... have you been? Is it any good?"

"The scoundrel, I'm utterly shocked." Rory teased back, grinning all the while as she averted her gaze for a moment. Not that she ever would have reason to be jealous of a man - or man-cat for that matter.

This wasn't the first time that Rory had been a little, well, flustered at the very sight of Maris. She only hoped that she hid it far better than that first day. Back then, she had reason for legitimate shock at seeing her ex in her town, and the way she looked was merely an after thought. Now there was no shock to the moment, no reason for her gaze to linger on her long legs or the way her hair took to this climate.

Rory simply answered with a nod, unsure what her voice would sound like to answer in the affirmative. Following Maris inside, her eyes followed Byron as he flopped over, laughing softly at the momentary distraction he offered. It occurred to her too quickly, that it had been a very long time since she'd been in the space that Maris inhabited. This might not have been her home like the one she'd spent so much time in -- filled with everything put in its place with such care and style, but it was still Maris' space.

"Yes, please. I drank my coffee way too fast." Surely that was the reason her heart wouldn't settle into a normal beating pattern.

Leaning her hip against the counter, Rory took in the space, smiling at the mug she recognized in the sink, and quickly looking away to peer around the room. Different, but just knowing Maris could make this space as much or as little her own had her feeling in a certain kind of way.

Thankfully, her thought was distracted by Maris. "Oh, oh yes." She smiled, reaching for the envelope and turning it over. "I went last year with the school, we donated a season pass to the drama club's performances ... which, I promise sounds worse than it actually is." Grinning, she handed it back to Maris. "You should come! The food is actually decent, and they have an open bar. Cheap stuff, but it does the trick."

Maris poured them each some iced tea and the glasses she used were just as familiar as the mug in the sink. They were fairly plain, a ring of blue around the bottom was the only thing that would distinguish them from any other, but she couldn't help remembering an incident that occurred when she had four of them instead of three. The missing one had slipped out of her hand and onto the floor while she was washing dishes a few weeks before Christmas.

Maris thought she had swept up all the shards of glass it had left in it's wake until Rory came over that night and managed to get a tiny sliver stuck in her foot while heading to the fridge to fetch them some ice cream to have in bed. It had only left a tiny scratch, but Maris felt awful about it, practically near tears with guilt that she had been indirectly responsible for hurting Rory.

She pressed Rory's drink into her hand cautiously, afraid of breaking another, but the extra care she was taking caused her thumb to graze the other woman's palm. The contact was accidental, but electric and she quickly took her hand away once she was sure Rory had grabbed hold, her own hand flying into her wavy (because the hot weather really didn't cooperate with the straightener Maris used to combat her natural texture) hair as her eyes flickered to the floor, talk of the ball temporarily forgotten.

"Do you remember..." she started cautiously.

She was talking about Rory's injury, but being this close to her was bringing up all sorts of memories, a lot of which she knew she should try and forget around a spoken for ex.

If Rory had thought that stepping into this new (to her) house might be such a walk down memory lane, she might have thought twice about it. Actually no, she wouldn't have. Live boldly was something of a mantra she tried to remind herself of, and that applied to any number of scenarios. Why shouldn't she enjoy an afternoon of memories with her ex? It wasn't like it had to mean a single thing at all. She however, would have just liked to think she could have mentally prepared herself with how strong memories might come back. This wasn't even the space they had shared so much of a few years ago.

Goosebumps raced up her arm as their fingers brushed together against the glass. Her fingers instinctively reached towards the feeling, stretching for a half of a second before they curled quickly around the glass. Jesus. She took a long sip from the glass, just to give herself a reprieve of how her chest constricted.

The glasses. Of course she remembered the glasses. It was one of those moments that Rory had marveled at Maris, how much she cared about just a little scratch and a spec of blood that was barely noticeable.

"You were so worried." Rory's voice was quiet, a smile forming at the memory. One of those moments she felt how much she loved this woman, like her whole heart might burst from it. She remembered watching Maris as she raced around to find a bandaid, trying so hard not to laugh and inevitably just gathering her face in her hands and kissing her breathless. They were already mostly undressed at the time, so the rest ... A good memory, even if fairly ill timed. Being here, being so close. It was just messing with her head is all.

Exhaling slowly, Rory brought her cold fingers up to her neck, searching for a kind of reprieve. "If I ask for a tour, should I keep my shoes on?"

Her lips twitched. "Come on, smart ass. Bring your drink, I have place where we can sit." The bottom floor was fairly ordinary, featuring a kitchen, a small bathroom and living room that featured a fireplace Maris enjoyed before the weather warmed up.

The master bed and bathrooms were upstairs, as well as what was probably meant to be another bedroom, but Maris was using it as a place to keep and ride her precious Peloton.

"This way," she said, gesturing for Rory to follow her into her bedroom. Even though she had a destination in mind, and they were only making a brief stop, it felt strange to have her in her room again. Especially since, while this one was definitely bigger, Maris' room was a lot like her old one. It smelled faintly of the lavender spray she spritzed on her sheets in an effort to help her sleep. She was still using the same ornate metal bed frame. She had a favorite purple comforter and usually put it right back on when she finished washing it. But this room featured a large window seat and a nook large enough to house a tall black bookcase and the desk where she was getting most of her work done. Her screensaver was up on her computer, a vase full of red peonies off to the side.

Though Maris loved flowers (and the ones she had now had always been her favorite) she could never justify the expense of keeping fresh ones in the house. She'd changed her tune since discovering her new venture had her at a desk longer than teaching ever had. She needed something pretty to look at to keep from going insane.

She opened up a set of sliding glass door, leading Rory out onto her balcony. It was fairly small, but large enough for a small glass table and two chairs to sit and enjoy the view. Her current book and reading glasses were resting on top, but she gestured for her to sit.

"It's not big. But it feels big," she admitted. "But then again, it was never really meant for one person, which is why my grandfather never ended up here either."

Offering a cheeky grin, Rory followed without any more commentary. Honestly, she was slightly worried what she might say if left with ample opportunity to keep on rambling.

Rory took her time following Maris, glancing at the little decor that Maris had in the place, the furniture, the feel of the hallways. Which stair gave a small creak under their weight as they walked upstairs. Whatever tour she anticipated, or what rooms she thought she might see, the hadn't entirely anticipated the whammy of stepping into Maris' bedroom.

Memories came vividly and quickly, her breath whooshing out of her lungs quietly, but fiercely. The scent, the bed, the comforter. All so familiar, all carrying with them sense memory that began the creeping of a blush up her neck. She averted her gaze so quickly she could have made herself dizzy. Stupid, completely stupid to think about any of those things. In detail. Nope. Her eyes fell on the peonies there on the desk. Her blush faded as a fond smile took over. Better, good distraction.

Her gaze fell on Maris again, lingering perhaps a moment or two too long before she moved towards the door. "Oh this is lovely." She said, clearing her throat after speaking to rid herself of the distracted tone of voice.

Aurora took a seat at the little table, crossing her legs and leaning back like she'd done this a thousand times. Her gaze moved over the landscape of her view, of other houses, trees, further off to see more of the town if she really tried to see it. "It's really something. You've been making it your own. I like it."

Smiling, Rory took another sip of her drink. "Do you plan to stay in it for a while? With your book and everything, I mean." Rory would have liked to completely deny the obvious hope that colored her tone of voice.

"I'll definitely be here for summer," she said, pretty sure she wouldn't wrap up her book anytime soon. Even though she was fond of some aspects of the house: the fireplace, her little office nook, their current location, she didn't really have much of an incentive to stay apart from more time with the woman across from her. She was slowly but surely getting used to the area and finding favorite things like the little breakfast spot that gave her far too much coffee, but deep down she knew she could probably never really fall in love with Maine. She still held a grudge because it had taken Rory away from her, even if they had managed to find each other again.

It was her turn to steal a glance at her ex, teeth sinking into her lower lip to taste that morning's lipstick. Sitting across from Rory felt so familiar. Yet so strange. She didn't quite know what to say to her, another uncomfortable development because they used to be able to converse for hours on end. Now Maris was afraid of saying too much, but still eager to fill silences lest she bore Aurora and send her far, far way again.

A gust of wind brought a light but sudden rain shower. With the patio roof protecting them it was nice, soothing rather than a bother. A cool breeze ruffled Maris' hair as she said, "Why does it always rain when I'm around you?"

It was a reference to the night Maris had invited Rory inside her apartment to wait out the storm. Their first night together was something she probably shouldn't have mentioned, especially when the only thing separating them from her bedroom was a sliding glass door, but she couldn't help it.

"It's really awful," she said, brown eyes twinkling a bit. It wasn't. It was barely a drizzle, a summer storm that would be gone once it cooled things down. "Maybe you should stay. Didn't the last Gentleman Jack come out yesterday?"

The open-ended answer should have given Rory comfort - one way or another. On the one hand, it should be good that she was here for the summer, but with a tone that said maybe it wouldn't be a forever kind of thing. But it was perhaps more disconcerting how much her heart sunk at the distinct lack of planned longevity. Did she really expect Maris to change her tune so quickly, to profess her love of Maine and desire to stay here forever? Once upon a time, Rory had wished for that, but she knew better know. She truly did. If she'd tried it all that time ago, there was no reason why now, without even the promise of a life together, Maris should want to stay. Not that she thought her life had any impact on the other woman, of course. That would be ridiculous.

"Summer in Maine. It sounds very posh." She smiled, her eyes lingering a beat too long on Maris' lips and the teeth that sunk into the plump pink of them. Her whole body seemed to flush for the briefest of moments, leaving her to clear her throat and take another drink. She didn't quite get the chance to recover, not even with the sudden distraction of rain.

Rory could still remember the first rainy night she spent away from Maris, in her home here in Maine. It was ridiculous how much she'd missed her, and how she had called her with some ridiculous excuse, only to have Maris see right through her and how much she missed and craved the other woman. Why had she gone to Maine in the first place? It was hard to remember then. "Must have something to do with some kind of atmospheric shift." She said as she smiled out at the rain, watching it pour so she didn't have to look at Maris. Rory was honestly afraid of what she'd do if she lingered on the other woman too long.

Her gaze returned to Maris shortly however, catching that look, her cheeks warming in the moment. Must be the atmosphere indeed. "Oh! It did. I've been in grading hell ..." One final week of class and then she'd be free for the summer. "Let's do it. So long as you can handle how deeply I'm going to be feeling during the next hour." She grinned, biting at her lower lip before standing. A distraction ... of Regency era lesbians. Couldn't go wrong there.

Rain or none, the air did feel different when Rory was around, something it was becoming increasingly difficult for Maris to ignore.

"Good," she said shortly, doing her best to downplay just how happy she was that Rory was staying. Atmospheric changes aside, it would be nice to have company in general. She couldn't remember the last time she'd watched something with someone other than Byron.

She lead the way downstairs, directing Rory to sit in the living room while she headed to the kitchen to see what she had to offer a guest. Snacks were in short supply. Maris only liked to buy them when she knew she was going to need them since she had a habit of picking up whatever was closest when she was bored. But she found a few options and exited the kitchen holding up a bag of cocoa dusted almonds in one hand and a pack of wheat pretzels in the other. "Sweet or savory? Or I could go for an early dinner if I'm being honest. We can order in too."

Memories of answering the door in only a kimono and enjoying take out wearing even less were probably best left in the past, but the past wasn't exactly far when the room they were currently in looked a lot like her old one. Her living room was bigger nowadays, the green vintage love seat that had taken up most of the space in her old apartment looked almost comically small in her grandfather's house. Seeing Rory on it caused her heart to tighten, but there was a different sort of pressure, this one between her legs once the food situation was sorted and she joined her on it. She'd always liked that the tiny, narrow seat forced her to sit close to Rory, practically thigh to thigh. Now it felt an awful lot like torture.

She focused on getting the show going. "The stupid end credits song always gets stuck in my head," she confessed. "But the writers are actually a married lesbian couple so that's pretty cool. They wrote it before the show and everything."

Maris had always been aware of and interested in Anne Lister, but had fallen down a bit of a rabbit hole since starting the show. She'd become aware of more than a few of Anne's friends and contemporaries, pleasantly surprised to learn that she was hardly the only woman living openly with another at the time and that Anne had actually visited one before making her infamous proposal. If she ever finished her book on Julie, she was seriously considering writing another about the lesbian subculture in England during Anne Lister's time, since people certainly made it seem like she was the only queer woman who was out and proud in her time.

"Nothing better happen to Aunt, I'm serious," she said stubbornly.

Should it have felt more foreign, even weird just spending time around Maris again? It was a question she'd asked herself a few times during the time they'd already spent together.

Rory wished that she could ignore it. She wished that it wasn't as though the air between them crackled with electric anticipation. Anticipating what, exactly, she wasn't willing to ponder. Being here in Maris' space only exacerbated the point. Everywhere the pair of them went, though this location was new to the pair of them together, felt riddled with history.

This couch. The couch she knew extremely well. The couch they'd shared their first kiss on, during a different rain storm. She could recall it so vividly; how wildly her heart pounded, how Maris' fingers had curled in the lapel of her shirt and pulled her in close. Her face was flush before she even took a seat - her seat. Always on the left. This time she probably wouldn't drape her legs over the arm rest and lay her head in Maris' lap. Probably. The memory of her fingertips grazing through her hair, her nails soothing against her scalp -- the memory was so visceral that it nearly stole her breath.

"Sweet, you know me." She took the almonds, having kicked her shoes off and raised one of them to the couch, her chin resting on her knee. "I could go for some dinner though. Chinese?" A favorite, from before. Not that she didn't eat Chinese now, of course. Just ... one of their favorites anyway.

"Oh I know it, but I don't know the words well enough to sing the whole thing, so it's really just the middle part that gets stuck in there." She laughed a little, smiling at the story behind the song. "I love how involved all of this is." She said, trying to fill the space of the theme song with words so Rory didn't have to feel how close the two of them sat together. She used to love this couch for that. Too often, they ended up on top of one another anyway.

Rory didn't quite know what to expect from the finale; while she had the companion books in hand, she had yet to delve in - a hiatus task, to be sure. "I'll revolt if anything happens to her." She agreed, nodding nervously and biting the back of her knuckles as Doctor Kinney (the idiot) advised Anne about her Aunt's health. "Thank God Elizabeth is actually a supportive sister." She said moments later, the swelling mood of the sheer longing the two Ann(e)s held for one another hitting extremely close to home.

Maris had only tried out one Chinese place since moving in, but liked it well enough to try ordering again. Once she located their menu from the pile she kept in her kitchen drawer, she dialed their number and rattled off her order (including all Rory's usuals) without missing a beat.

She didn't realize what she'd done until she ended the call, then looked up from her phone to see Rory sitting in the other room. Her stomach sank as she wondered if she'd been too presumptuous. A lot could change in five years, after all.

"I got your favorite," she said, hoping to sound casual as she sat back down. She was even more hopeful that she wouldn't have to call back and change her order, something that would make an already awkward situation even worse.

Maris prided herself on not being a sentimental person. She could usually give or take romance whether it occurred in fiction or reality, but she did feel a sort of kinship with Anne Lister. Well, this series' interpretation of her anyway. Though not nearly as androgynous, she had always had a certain swagger and penchant for tailored clothes in dark colors. And though neither would probably admit it, Maris & Anne felt things more deeply than they ever let on. It took a lot for Maris to fall in love. But when she did...

"I mean, we know they're gonna get together," Maris said after both women were shown separately. "They're going to get married because the record says so, it's just a matter of whether they're going to do it in this last episode or if they're going to drag it out into next season."

She was hoping they would be reunited sooner rather than later, if only because she hated when romantic relationships were drawn out longer than made any sense in an effort to keep a show going, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy the Ann(e)'s journey to find their footing.

"Oh I like her!" Maris said, grinning cheekily (and enjoying her pineapple chicken that had finally arrived) as Anne flirted with the queen. "She's bold. Anne needs to go for it." She took a bite, swallowing before gesturing at the screen with a chopstick. "There's no way she met, let alone banged royalty though. But I'll allow it." She sipped her drink. "She's got too much swag to be femme though, why the dress is all wrong. She's just stomping around and that hair!"

She smirked at Rory. "I'm wearing my hair just like that to the ball. Two dollar store peacock feathers right here!" She gestured to her head with a cackle that could only be described as gleeful.

As she watched Anne dance around with the pretty young girl who seemed to like her back, she remembered something she wanted to ask Rory about the ball.

"Would I need a date? To the ball?"

A ticket included a plus one. Maris never really minded going to events alone, but since it was her first time at the ball she didn't want to stick out more than she probably already would by being the only person to show up stag, an awkward scenario no matter how confident she was.

There seemed to be a pattern emerging, at least today (if not since she'd seen Maris in her town to begin with), that old habits became new again. There was a kind of comfort in feeling Maris close to her, yes, but a thrill that came with it. She indeed remembered her favorite dishes, and Rory simply had smiled at the idea that Maris still knew it. Still ordered it. "I'm a creature of habit." Was all she had said, leaving that there as though it were an open hand offering.

Where Maris might not be sentimental, Rory was decidedly the opposite. She often got emotional over fictional romance (and the occasional Cheerios commercial), allowing herself to swoon into a particularly good romance. This was no different, and in fact touched home perhaps a little closer than she would have liked.

She'd leave out that she'd pissed Jess off just a couple of weeks ago, where she'd let out an off-handed comment about how Anne (or this version of her) was absolutely her type. Rory didn't like to think that she had a type, but it likely wasn't lost on her fiancée that there were distinct similarities between this-Anne Lister and Maris. Tall (if taller because of the very presence she had), whip-smart and funny, someone with a certain sense of self and devastatingly beautiful. She'd meant it as a joke (sort of), and Jess had pouted for the rest of the evening. The shorter blonde couldn't even really be compared to the Ann Walker on screen; decidedly her own type that Rory had to walk back on what she'd said. No, she'd be leaving out that tidbit.

"It's causing me to stress eat." She replied as she bit the end off of another egg roll, cheesing with a grin once she'd swallowed.

The queen, while flirting it up (could they really blame ANY of the women in this series for flirting?), earned instead a shaking of Rory's head. "No, no. You can tell how much she's forcing it." To which, moments later, she gesticulated with her own chopsticks as Anne swept the younger woman around the dance floor. "Oh lord, she's spiraling." She said, putting down her plate and sitting back on the couch.

"I bet you she tried to bang royalty though. The saucy minx." She laughed at her own bad joke, eyeing Maris a moment later. "You better do this. I will be devastated if you show up with non-peacocking hair."

Ah, the ball. Right right right. It shouldn't have given her pause. After all they were just friends discussing this. "You can, I mean surely you can. I went with a group from the school last time, but. Yeah. I think some people bring dates?" God, she was stumbling over her words like an idiot. As she stammered, she reached for her glass of tea and took a final sip. Only then, cheers-ing the TV as Ann decided she was goign to make her own goddamn decisions from here on out.

Turning back to the TV, she gave a short gasp as Anne announced the plan for when they'd arrive back at Shibden. "Oh fuck." She said, clutching a hand to her chest and, dramatically (but not entirely planned), she leaned over into Maris, her chin bumping against the other woman's shoulder. "They're both arriving Thursday at Tea Time. I won't survive this."

"Oh, let her have her fun," Maris said, swatting at Rory playfully. "The fetus is cute."

Didn't everyone go on a bit of a rebound spiral when they were newly single and especially when heartbroken? Maris certainly had, though she'd avoided women as young as Anne's dance partner, if only because she'd always preferred older women. Her friends used to tease her about it when she was younger and though their quips about mommy issues weren't true in a romantic sense, Maris had hated them because she probably had more than a few in every other. Anyone who had never had a maternal figure in their life was bound to. She valued maturity and since she'd always been a bit wiser than her years, never really dated anyone her age until she hit her mid 20's. She'd never had any desire to go younger.

She inwardly cringed once Rory answered her question, suddenly realizing just how awkward talking about dating with your ex could be. Rory's reassurances that it would be okay to show up on her own kind of fell on death ears because she also remembered that if Rory ended up going, she was already set in the date department. Nobody liked appearing single around their ex and it wasn't like she didn't have prospects. Well, one prospect.

Maris and Corin had been exchanging flirty texts for a few weeks now. Their banter was getting increasingly risque (with a few selfies sent Maris' way) but she hadn't exactly taken the leap to invite her over yet.

Corin was attractive and about the only other person in town she enjoyed talking to besides her current company, but she was in no real hurry to get her into bed. The other woman's attention felt good, but she wasn't sure there was a spark, certainly nothing compared to the jolt she felt when Rory's chin brushed her shoulder. It would be so easy to grab hold, turn her face to hers. As much as she used to tease Rory about being a sap, she loved it about her. It always made her want to give her more of what she was seeing in the movies and books she admired. More affection, and didn't that always start with a kiss?

The subject of dates had been dropped as quickly as it had been brought up with Maris paying more attention to Rory than anything happening on screen. She watched her watch them, the desire to kiss her growing stronger by the second, sensing more than just joy in Rory's reaction.

It was a bittersweet reunion.

And she wasn't just talking about the Ann(e)s.

"Well, this is all very Mr. Darcy walks out of the pond," she grumbled at the big kiss. It was over the top, albeit terribly romantic and Maris felt the urge to downplay just how moved (and jealous that the two heroines were doing something she currently wanted to do with her own ex) she was.

"The fetus." Rory snorted through a laugh, shaking her head as she watched with rapt attention. Well, the attention she could spare from the proximity of the woman next to her.

Rory would be loathe to admit the way she behaved after her split from Maris. Both versions of the post-breakup were equally pathetic; the first long while she went on a hookup-strike, still somewhat hurt and angry both at herself and at Maris, but some pathetic idea that they'd figure it out. She didn't look for (or at) anyone else because her heart was still somewhere else. Slowly that fell away, and in her process of grieving came enough one night stands and barely-connected flings to get her over whatever slump she was in. Attaching herself to someone else at the time felt foreign, wrong, terrifying. She supposed she got a bit of both of the Ann(e)s at this point.

Through all of that, they were supposed to be over it. Beyond any awkwardness or maybe even finding the kind of friendship that they could come to each other for advice or even a wing-woman situation. She'd seen it with some of her friends after big breakups, being able to reach that place. Maybe they could eventually ... but the very idea of Maris showing up with a date to a charity ball was enough to send her pulse racing and mind spiraling. It was hard enough seeing her flirt with what's-her-name back at the book fair.

Perhaps part of the problem was that Rory herself didn't exactly feel past whatever chemistry still crackled between them. She could tell herself it was natural, that they had burned so hot for each other, that it made sense there was still something left over. It just didn't account for how close she felt herself getting at certain times, or the natural way her body gravitated towards Maris. The electricity was palpable, her heart racing as she stayed leaning into Maris for a bit longer than she should have. The connection felt good, and for the moment she felt she wanted ... more. It was crazy, just a passing moment she'd say. She thought how easy it would be to bow her head a little closer, to let her nose brush against the curve of her jaw and let her lips brush over the space she knew from memory earned certain sounds that haunted her dreams.

Nope. Sitting up a little straighter, she focused back on the show, but it was hard not to be swept up in the romance of it. "Oh jesus." She sighed, clutching one hand over her heart and the other reaching blindly to clasp over Maris' forearm. So much for keeping her hands to herself.

"Is this what straight people feel when they watch The Notebook?" She laughed, her eyes betraying her as a couple errant tears fell down her cheeks. God, she was such a stupid sap sometimes. Her hand kept on where she was holding onto Maris, though not entirely consciously. She inhaled sharply as the two Ann(e)s exchanged rings, and shared a brave kiss in the carriage.

This was a moment that should make her think of her fiancée, but instead only made her think of the woman next to her.

"Oh come on, don't cry," she said, the last word coming out a bit sharper than she intended because seeing Rory cry (even happy tears) was a bit of a knife to the heart. It was part of the reason she tried to end the argument that ended their relationship so quickly. Maris was too proud to let anyone see her cry, but she hated seeing other people cry, especially Rory almost as much.

It was a wonder she got any words out at all given how keenly felt her touch, however accidental was.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the arguments that came after. She knew what the writers were trying to do. They wanted to show the Ann(es) were a married couple very much the same as any other, but it was a little too on the nose for Maris, who sometimes thought all married couples lost all sense of individuality once they said I do.

Would the Ann(es) suddenly be as boring as everyone else? But she couldn't dwell on it for long, not when Rory was still holding onto her. Now that the show was over and their food long finished there was no reason why she should stay and certainly no reason why she should keep doing what she was doing. The rain had even stopped, the air coming in from Maris' open windows now pleasantly cool. The chill was enough to bring the hairs on her arm to attention. She supposed she could write off her reaction to Rory's touch to that, the hyper sensitivity that came with a change in temperature, but she knew it was a lie. She also knew she should say something and the show would have provided an easy enough topic, but all she found herself doing was staring at Rory's mouth.

And remembering how it tasted.

Her hand slid downwards, slowly grazing the arm that had hold of her until her hand came to trace, then rest on top of Rory's, a feather light touch but a bold one all the same.

"Shut up." She laughed when she said it, swiping her free hand over her cheeks to rid herself of those tears and rolling her eyes at herself. Rory used to hate how easily accessible her emotions could be: even when angry or frustrated, her tears were the first real sign of it. She wasn't a person who raged, she was a person who simmered in her emotion. Some times were bigger than others, and Maris' comment did make her think, if only briefly, to the last time she'd been in such high emotion around her. That wasn't a memory she wanted to live in.

Season two would certainly be interesting, finding how the Ann(e)s navigated through married life. Obviously a curious subject to Rory, how people might change or even grow in marriage versus outside of it. She had wondered it a lot back in her relationship with Maris - but not in a way where she worried much over if they ever made that jump, they might change. One of the things she had truly loved about Maris was how independent she was, how the two of them were strong and strong-willed women, and that she never felt expected to dim that down for the woman she loved. If anything, it seemed to fuel them. They could talk passionately about things that interested them, but never felt like they had to sync up perfectly. The romantic side of Rory always figured they might end up putting rings on one another, even if it was a sudden decision to step into a courthouse one afternoon.

That was then though, and certainly no reason to completely dwell on those thoughts now. Not even with the epically romantic episode they'd just watched. It should worry Rory that throughout this whole time, she really hadn't thought once about Jess. She hadn't thought about going home or how late it was getting. She hadn't thought about the implications of her being there.

Somehow it felt like time itself had come to a standstill. The air sucked out of the room, sound deafened. She surely was just being dramatic, or reading too much into something -- but Maris' hand moved over her arm and she felt her whole body suddenly flush warm. Her fingers reflexively squeezed, holding tight to her arm. She should let go, she should make her excuse and get up, but she was too fixed on the moment, how good even the simplest, gentlest of touches felt. It ignited something in her she didn't quite know she'd been missing.

Her eyes raised to Maris', though lingered, a second or two too long on her lips in turn. She only barely stopped herself from biting at her own. Her fingers let go of Maris' arm, but only in favor of dragging her nails gently along her wrist, fingertips touching hers. "I..." She started but stopped, unsure exactly how bold she should allow herself to be. That was the problem with Maris staring at her; she apparently still couldn't hold herself together under her gaze. "I've really missed this."

It would have been easy to explain Rory's confession away as something else. Something harmless and platonic because after everything they had been through was plain to see they still got along. It could have been the start of a friendship, an acknowledgement of the fact that they hadn't watched anything or even been alone together in ages. That could have been what Rory missed if she wasn't touching Maris in a spot she knew made her shiver.

Or maybe she'd forgotten. Yet somehow Maris couldn't allow herself to explain that away either. Hope welled up in her chest that maybe this was hard for Rory too. Hope was probably a strange word. She didn't want the other woman to suffer but it did make her feel better to think she wasn't suffering alone. And a hell of a lot less guilty for enjoying her touch as much as she was.

She missed this. She missed her but she was also the sort of person who couldn't admit those kind of things to her own detriment. She felt weak, vulnerable, exposed even though she hadn't said a word even though the goosebumps Rory's touch was eliciting and the slight darkening of her eyes was probably giving her away.

If she did admit everything, just how much she wanted her and how much she knew she screwed up, what exactly would that accomplish? Did it even matter now that Rory had set up a new life for herself with someone else?

The futility of their situation suddenly weighed very heavily on Maris. The room suddenly felt very small, the lack of air in her lungs having less and less to do with the way it felt when Rory's fingers dug into her skin. And her throat suddenly felt very, very tight.

Now Rory wasn't the only one fighting back tears though Maris fought very, very hard to blink hers away. She mostly succeeded, though there was a furrowing of her brow and a sheen in her eyes than had been there moments before. She knew she should look away, if anyone could catch onto them it was Rory, but her her body seemed to have a mind of it's own, moving forward until her forehead rested against Rory's ever so slightly. "I've missed you too," she said finally, the words soft, barely audible.

Was it foolish of Rory to think that there was any version of reuniting with Maris that wouldn't be a gut punch? Probably, now that she was in the midst of it. It was a surprise to find Maris here, in her new hometown, but beyond the shock of that, she convinced herself things could be some semblance of normal. She convinced herself that her feelings about Maris were distinctly in the "over it" category, left in her past. What an idiot she was to think that for a second.

Whether consciously or otherwise, the way she touched Maris was deliberate. The feel of her skin beneath her fingertips, the warmth of her, the intoxicating smell of her shampoo -- all of it was sense overload from present and past clashing together. She truly should have known that there was no leaving Maris ever in her past. Not to overly dramatize anything, but more than once, she'd referred to this woman as the love of her life. Yes, in better times, but when Rory said something like that, even in the midst of her happiest moments, she meant it.

Somewhere in the very deepest recesses of her mind, conflict brewed like a storm. Currently, she couldn't think of a single thing that wasn't the woman in front of her, the goosebumps raised on her skin, her own steadily increasing heartbeat. Her fiancée didn't even make top twenty of what her mind currently churned with. The look in Maris' eyes set a fire in her, warmth pooling through her body. She knew that look. She dreamed of that look.

Whatever there was to say between the two of them, Rory couldn't squeak it out. She couldn't tell her how much she regretted leaving, how no job, even the one she had and loved, should have ever come before the life they had been building together. It may have taken her some time (because, well, stubborn), but she knew how at fault she was in their breakup. Any apologies and explanations died somewhere caught in the back of her throat, left for another time - maybe.

Four words, and it felt like a levy had broken. The confession from Maris made her nearly light-headed with relief. It was one thing to confess these things, to even say them out loud to the person who she had missed more than she was even willing to ever admit to herself. Maris read what she meant, because of course she did. Her eyes closed for a moment as their foreheads touched, her hand sliding up Maris' forearm and holding steady on her elbow. "We really fucked it up, didn't we?" She confessed all the more so, her tone quiet, her head tilting just enough so their noses brushed, and she felt how close their lips were - whether intentional or not. She didn't want to break away, didn't want to lose an ounce of this. Her heart thundered, uncertainty and even some fear propelling courage to force its way forward enough that her lips brushed just softly at the corner of Maris' mouth.

Maris thought she was the one who needed to apologize. She should have been more patient and savored every moment when Rory came home. She had, hadn't she? Rory could have spent every waking moment in Maine, the fact that she made an effort to visit Maris had to count for something. She could have followed. Maine may not have been the most exciting place in the world, but apart from her family Maris was beginning to realize that she had no real reason to stay. Certainly not her job. Now that she'd taken her little hiatus, she couldn't help but wonder why she'd put up with it so long to begin with.

But apologies were just another thing she was a little too proud for, though her strong will kind of fell by the wayside once Rory's lips brushed hers.

When words failed there was kind of only one thing you could do and even though she couldn't bring herself to speak, deep down Maris knew she could show just how sorry she was (and everything else she was feeling) in a different way,

Her breath hitched as their lips touched, her eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise. She wasn't just shocked that it happened. She was shocked by how much it effected her. Her hand slid up to cup Rory's cheek, though her fingers didn't wrap around it quite as tightly as they once did. They were light, tentative, just like her lips as they brushed Rory's. It was bolder, more of a full on kiss than Rory's, but still hesitant, unsure like they hadn't done this a thousand times before. It felt like a first kiss and in a way it was. It was their first kiss in god knows how long and just like the first time she'd done it all those years ago, Maris wasn't sure if Rory would push her away. Goodness knows she had more than a few reasons this time.

Mistakes were made, that was the crux of the whole thing. The problem then also became that so much time had passed since those mistakes. They had grown, presumably. They'd had other lovers, other people who eked their way in. Rory couldn't bring herself to think about those things, only what they had lost. Only what they had let slip away. They were both too stubborn, and yes, she had allowed herself in her own pride to place most of the blame on Maris. But she was in fact, the one who had left. She was in fact, the one who didn't take into account how distance would weigh on them. She was cocky enough to think they were untouchable. They had never failed so miserably at communication until then.

Somewhere the alarms were blaring in her mind, telling her to stop, warning her that if she kept on, she was inviting a whole mess of trouble. All of that however, went drowned out by the thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears, and the sound of Maris' breath.

Her kiss had been soft, timid, but the feelings that raged within her were anything but. As soon as Maris' hand touched to her cheek, and she kissed her back, her own lips parted in an audible sound. Her hand gripped Maris' forearm tighter, her other hand blindly reaching forward, resting against her side. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, as she leaned into the kiss, letting it deepen all the more. Reckless, yes, but it was a sweet relief of allowing herself the luxury. Rory knew she had to stop, knew she had every reason to -- that going further would make things so much worse -- but she couldn't tear her lips away. Not when kissing Maris felt like she was finally breathing for the first time in years.

Her kisses became hungry the moment Maris realized Rory was kissing her back. Now that she had been given the green light, there was no stopping or even slowing down because kissing her felt just as good, better than it had always been. It felt like no time had passed, but the moment her mouth was on hers she was keenly aware of just how long she'd gone without this. She wanted more. Needed more. To fill every second with every kiss she'd missed out on to make up for lost time.

In her eagerness, she wasn't exactly graceful. She felt a bit like a fumbling teenager. In a hurry to keep going further and further, slightly off her game because she wasn't entirely sure when her partner would hit the brakes because it was too much too fast. She let out a soft groan as their tongues somehow found their way into the equation, slowly sliding into Rory's lap.

Maris' body heat was coming off her in waves, but her hand slid down to push Rory's shirt up. Though she did this swiftly, her hand was slow as her palm stroked the small, soft patch of skin she revealed. Her eyes automatically found hers, searching for a reaction even though deep down she knew it would be the same.

With every hungry kiss from Maris, Rory was there with her own; greedy and insistent. Every kiss made her crave more, igniting something in her that had been dormant for too long. Apparently, just waiting for Maris to come back. It felt familiar and at the same time altogether new. She felt as though no amount of this feeling, of this lust crackling between them could ever be quelled, but she thought they'd give it a good try.

Rory couldn't help the breathy laugh that bubbled forth as she found herself shoved back a bit, but that soon faded off into a groan as soon as Maris was atop her. Her hands slid over her thighs, grateful for the shorts she wore for the easier access to smoothing her hands just beneath the fabric at her knees. Rory sighed into the feeling of their tongues meeting, finally, mercifully - a sensation she had thought of far more often than she cared admit.

"Fuck," She gasped, Maris' fingers on her newly bare skin sent a fireball of desire from where her hand touched straight between her legs. Her hands moved to the sides of Maris' face, her eyes searching hers in return. "We should--" She stopped herself, her breath heavy, eyes dark. She knew she should finish that sentence, but instead she was leaning in close, bypassing Maris' lips in favor of the pulse point of her throat, a spot she'd often favor before. Her tongue lashed against the spot, lips gently sucking at her skin. Her hands moved around her, holding her close like she wasn't sure how long they'd have, racing against her own conscience. While she felt almost manic in how desperately her want was, her mind split in a way she was able to actually savor every touch that passed between them.

Maris blinked, wondering what Rory meant. Did she think they should stop? Even the version she preferred: we should go upstairs had it's own set of problems. What if the short amount it took for them to untangle themselves and scramble up to her bedroom gave Rory a chance to chance to change her mind. There was a certain urgency to all of this, a now or never feeling that while exhilarating gave her a sort of sinking feeling in her stomach because part of her didn't want to rush either.

This moment should have been savored, especially since she wasn't sure if it would ever happen again.

She let out a soft "ah" of pleasure, her head falling back ever so slightly as Rory sucked at her skin, her hand automatically cupping the back of the other woman's neck, her nails creeping into her hair in an effort to keep her where she was. Another purr of pleasure followed as Rory found exactly the right spot, but Maris couldn't bring herself to speak, afraid words were yet another thing that could break the spell.

Feeling even warmer than she had while sitting out in the hot sun, Maris tugged her tank top over her head without much warning. Since she was just hanging out around the house, she was sporting a plain black bra that was more comfortable than stylish but she didn't have time to feel self conscious about her fashion choices. Just as she reached behind her to unclasp it, Rory's phone started to buzz in her pocket, a sensation felt by both parties since they were so hopelessly entangled.

Maris' teeth sunk into her lower lip, grabbing the back of her bra to hold it in place before it could fall forward and leave her more exposed than she already felt.

Rory had never cheated on anyone in her life. This was no point of pride, nothing to boast about -- just rather the kind of person she was. She held a certain level of judgement of those who did that sort of thing - this sort of thing. Rory could just say that she had never been in a position, and now she horribly understood it. She might, at some point when she was thinking clearly, justify it certainly by this idea that didn't she already belong to Maris first? A justification for sure, but one that rang deep in her heart all the same. The first time she had so much as a flirtation with someone after her breakup with Maris, nevermind that it had been a few months at that time ... she still felt guilty then. Her guilt hadn't remotely hit her yet.

That sound that came from Maris only encouraged her, fueling the desire already raging within her tenfold. She sighed against her skin, her teeth gently grazing the mark before she was forced back to look at her, eyes dark and gaze fixed as she watched her take her shirt from her body. Yet again, she was struck by how much she'd missed her. She would have said that, again, if her mouth hadn't been occupied again in seeking out Maris's.

Like a cold bucket of water, that's what it felt like as the buzzing of the phone in her pocket interrupted them. Her hands had been splayed against Maris' bare sides, reveling in the feel of her warm skin. Everything stopped, she hesitated, her nose beneath Maris' chin as she waited, wondering, hoping for it to just go away. It did, a few moments later, and she tried to will away her obsessive need to check. Maybe it was a telemarketer. Certainly not that it was hours after her normal workday. She wanted to see Maris drop her hands, to allow their bodies to come together again.

And then the buzzing began again. Rory wanted to scream or cry or do any number of things - none of which were pulling away from Maris. "Shit," She grumbled, her head bowing to rest against Maris' collarbone, frustrated, miserable. "I'm sorry." Her voice cracked, unsure if she was more sorry for Maris, for herself, or for the interruption altogether. Leaning back into the couch, she looked up at Maris, biting her lower lip. Her hands slid down to her hips, but didn't pull away. She didn't know what to say, what to do when her body and heart wanted something so purely different than what common decency and responsibility dictated. "This fucking couch." She finally said, a bubble of frustrated laughter coming through.

Rory had more at stake than she did. Maris didn't have any attachments or any real investment in Jess' feelings. She had written her off as annoying, insipid, undeserving of the woman she was straddling, but she wasn't as inconsequential as she wanted to believe. She played a huge part in the equation because she had the power to put a stop to this right now. Even if she wasn't the person on the other end of the line, Rory remembering her promises, that there was someone waiting, counting on her at home could end this as quickly as it started.

She suddenly hated her more than she already did and when the phone buzzed again , Maris hastily clasped her bra back together (on the wrong hook, but all that really mattered was that it was back in place). She was sure the sound put an end to things, but Rory didn't seem to be going anywhere. The fact that she hadn't even reached for her phone gave her a sort of tentative hope.

"We could go upstairs," she said softly, her lips grazing the curve of Rory's neck. She hoped to sound enticing, persuasive and she did. But there was an undeniable need in Maris' voice and she was too caught up in it to even try to mask it.

Reasons not to do this were piling up by the second. Not just the whole implications of cheating on her fiancée, but the fear that she held at what this could be, or would be. Maybe it would just be a release in tension between them. Maybe they would just enjoy it, have some fun - and that would be that. Anything beyond that was terrifying, so much so that she refused to let her mind go there. She didn't trust herself, or themselves in whatever it could potentially mean. Her phone buzzed on, and she still didn't reach for it. She was unwilling to take the call, to steady her breathing and chirp promises that she'd be home soon. It struck her so seriously that she didn't want to be home soon. She didn't want to leave this house, this embrace.

Maris' words hung in the air between them, stealing breath from her lungs as she exhaled sharply. This moment distinctly shifted into a choice. Before, she could say she got swept up in the moment, that between their nostalgic hearts and heightened emotions, they'd simply run away with their wits. They'd been given a moment to consider what they were doing, a moment to breathe, to take in what it would mean. She had been given her out in spades - she surely couldn't be blamed for taking it, could she?

But everything in her whole being was screaming with want. Everything in her overpowered that small glimmer of what she might lose by making this choice. They were concerns for future-Rory. Not the one here, whose arms slid down to squeeze tightly at Maris' hips, her head tilting to the side at the feel of her lips on her skin. Nothing in her had waned the slightest with the incessant buzzing in her phone. My battery ran out, she might say -- later.

"Take me to your bed," She found herself saying before even thinking about it, her lips dropped against Maris' ear, her voice rough with want. God help her one way or another, she didn't want to take it back.

The interruption and reality check that came with it should have caused Maris to slow down somewhat. Even if it had been a regular pause, a sudden noise they both had to stop and investigate or even a regular old call from a wrong number or telemarketer Maris' want should have abated a little with the chance to catch her breath.

But she only wanted her more with each passing second. Especially when Rory made the choice sort of choice she didn't have to make. She'd chosen her and knowing eased any anxiety that the bubble might burst at any second. This was happening. There was no need to rush before one or both parties changed their mind, but she still needed this, whatever it was going to evolve into to happen fast. She'd been without it, her for far too long.

Rory's request was an undeniable turn on, rewarded with a bite against her skin that was a bit rougher than she intended. She realized she probably shouldn't mark her about a second too late but the more she thought about it she also realized that she wanted to and not just out of a sense of ownership or even spite toward the woman whose calls they were ignoring. She wanted Rory to remember this and as she got up so they could start their way upstairs, she was struck by a need to make sure just how good she was at this. Just how good they were together. She wanted Rory to remember why she had chosen her in this moment as well as all the others.

She reached into Rory's pocket, giving off the illusion that she was giving the other woman's ass a firm squeeze (which, she admittedly did) but she was more concerned with grabbing hold of her cell phone. She practically tossed it on the table with a firm clatter. Their eyes met for a moment and there was no need to anything. They both understood that as soon as they got upstairs everything else would ease to exist. For however briefly the world would revolve around the two of them.

She took Rory's hand and lead her upstairs. Later, she would reflect on how fitting it was to have done this on the same bed and sheets they always had, but she was too caught up in the moment to think straight. Her bra finally made it to the floor once they were inside, her lips catching Rory's in a kiss that was somehow even more passionate than the ones downstairs. She made sure the other woman's bra joined hers on the floor seconds later, a hiss of pleasure escaping her teeth as they landed on the bed, a movement that caused their newly bare skin to brush. The feeling was so electric, Maris could have died happy right then and there but her hands had other ideas, almost immediately reaching for the button on Rory's pants, until suddenly they were all but yanking each other's clothes away.

She didn't really know what to do once she'd gotten them off. If anything, she had too many ideas. She wanted everything all at once.

At any point either one of them could change their mind, it's true, but it felt like they just needed this, whatever it ended up being. Rory made her choice, for better or worse, and the consequences of that choice would be dealt with at a later date. Somewhere in her mind, she knew what she was doing; that this very choice split her trajectory and splintered one side of it into oblivion. Whatever she had (or might still have?) with Jess would ever be tainted by this choice -- and that was a decision she was fully willing to accept. She wouldn't be one to compare, but the feeling this gave her, this alive feeling of being with Maris again felt like it connected somewhere so deeply it reached her soul. She couldn't deny it, or her.

Rory couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up when Maris chucked her phone - not even worried that her screen might crack from the drop. She'd taken a headlong sprint down this path with her ex, and she didn't even want to look back for direction. A sharp sound came from her as Maris' teeth sunk into her skin, her hands greedy and gripping her hard, unperturbed by whatever welt might show up there. Rory was simply a being of pure desire -- nothing else could enter her mind.

She could sprint up those stairs and it wouldn't be fast enough; she felt like some hormonal teenager, full of a vibrance she hadn't felt in years. The flurry of movement once inside the bedroom felt frantic, every pass of cloth that left their bodies and crashing of lips electric. She kissed Maris breathless, sounds of unabashed desire and pleasure leaving her lips freely. Her hands were greedy, touching, pulling at clothes, getting themselves undressed as quickly as possible. She felt unable to contain how desperately her need went beyond simple want. Her body felt flushed, her mouth greedy for purchase wherever she could.

"God," She sort of breathed to herself as she took a breath, her gaze falling on Maris in earnest as she helped her by shimmying out of her pants. Leaning into her, she kissed her neck, her tongue sweeping against the spot before moving lower, peppering slow kisses down between her breasts, her teeth grazing against the side of one. Her hands moved for the fasten of Maris' pants, plucking at the fasten and moving to shove them off of her. The planes of her body she'd memorized so well once, so much so she could see every inch of her if she closed her eyes -- a fantasy in the years since they'd been apart.

Pausing for just a moment, Rory took a deep breath, helping Maris get the rest of her clothes off. She shifted against her in her (though it still felt like their) bed, throwing a bare leg over her to straddle the other woman. "I just want to see you for a minute," She panted, biting her lower lip at the embarrassment of how ridiculous that must have sounded. But it was true, for so long she'd been without her, without this feeling. While her body screamed and ached with a thrumming desire to touch and be touched, she wanted to take her in. Dark eyes raked over Maris' body, her hands soon following, sliding up over her abdomen, palms rolling over her breasts. She felt a twist in her heart at the same time she felt an ache between her legs.

Rory was just struck, yet again, with how desperately she had missed this woman.

Maris was looking better than ever these days. Though always slim, her figure had more to do with genetics and height rather than any conscious effort on her part. She tried to eat well, but never really exercised until fairly recently, her efforts paying off in a slightly more toned stomach. (though she had a ways to go if she was going to get the Michelle Obamaesque arms she wanted). She would have been lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to showing it off this summer and had even bought a new bathing suit in preparation but she couldn't help but feel a bit shy as Rory appraised her because she was left wondering if the other woman appreciated the (admittedly slight) changes as much as she did.


"Well?" she prodded playfully, using her elbows to prop herself up a bit. Maris knew she should probably slow down to soak in the moment (and Rory) as well, but it was kind of impossible to think with her ex in her current position.

Though she loved the idea and to some extent the feeling of scissoring, it was always a position she had a bit of trouble with. Maris had always needed more than just friction to orgasm and even Rory (who was easily the best lover she'd ever had)'s best efforts usually ended in a frustrated Maris and a hasty switch to something quicker and more effective. But as they took each other in, Maris suddenly realized that sort of skin to skin contact was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to fuck and feel Rory with her entire body until they collapsed into some tangled, sweaty mess.

Who cared if it took forever or even if, ultimately, they'd have to employ other methods to get her off? She wasn't ready for Rory to go anywhere anytime soon.

She shifted underneath her, shivering once she'd managed to find a position that would let their most sensitive parts brush, then let their lips do the same as she began to rock her hips slowly.

"And I want to watch you," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the woman above her.

Oh, she noticed. Not that Rory had ever been someone who scrutinized any sort of body type, or even felt particularly attracted to one "type" more than another. Maris had been her type, body and soul. She'd always practically worshiped her body, and felt goddamn lucky to do so. She could tell where she had changed, her memory of her so vivid, but then again in their current position, she would be hard pressed to think of her as anything but exquisite. Her gaze traveled over her body without an ounce of hesitation or bashfulness. She desired her and wanted her to know it, feel it.

"Well. Damn, honestly." She chuckled a little bit, biting down on her lower lip as she leaned in closer to her, hooking her fingers under her chin and bringing their lips back together.

Rory had always been, for the most part, in the 'don't knock it until you've tried it' camp with most things when it came to sex. Surely she had certain hard boundaries, but when it came to exploring pleasure, she was all for it. Her own needs were often secondary in her mind to her lover's, and as Maris shifted in this certain way, she found herself giving off a soft 'yes' through a sigh. They'd done this similarly before, to varying degrees of success, but she immediately understood (and agreed with) the inclination here and now. She wanted to fuck her without having to put space between them. She wanted to hold her and feel their bodies together in a maddening array of pleasure.

If she wasn't hot enough already, Maris' words sent another spiral of heat through her. "C'mere," She murmured, shifting in her own position just slightly, angling her hips just so she could reach her better. Her fingers reached around the back of Maris' neck, curling into the short hairs there as she began to rock in earnest with Maris, feeling a spiral of pleasure radiate up her spine as the friction began to build. "Fuck, there," She gasped, an involuntary shiver running through her as her clit found just the right angle against Maris.

Seeking that same level of pleasure in Maris, she doubled her efforts in bucking her hips just so, taking her time to be slow with it, get it right so they weren't just needlessly moving around. Her own eyes kept a locked gaze on the other woman, watching her just as much.

Her desire was apparent from the moment they brought their bodies together. Maris couldn't remember the last time she'd been more aroused though she knew it was with the woman above her. Her body was flushed. There was a warm, wet, pulsing slickness between her legs even before Rory added her own, but once the other woman started rocking against her she let out a soft cry Rory usually only heard when they were right in the thick of things.

Her hang ups were all but unfounded. This felt very good, very fast and the surprised look in Maris' eyes was a testament to that. But why? Had they gotten better? Was it just a result of waiting so long for exactly this moment? Was it because this was technically something they shouldn't be doing?

The last explanation was one she didn't dwell on for long. Rory was hers at least in this moment and anyone else was the furthest thing from her mind, especially when she was making her all but squirm with pleasure.

Even with Rory it was sometimes hard for Maris to fully give in. It was a sort of submission, an act of vulnerability but there was no denying that Maris was lost in her completely, even if she was giving as good as she got. Their moans and the soft slap of their bodies coming together again and again was music to her ears but soon all she could hear was herself, gasping as she practically begged for Rory to go harder, faster as her fingers dug into her waist in an effort to keep her in exactly the same spot because she seemed to have found the one to get her there. And in record time.

She came hard enough for the world to blur, Rory's name floating up to the ceiling as she fell to pieces, her whole body shaking as she buried her face in her neck.

Maybe Rory had tried to put this out of her mind, how good Maris was. How attuned their bodies were and how deeply she felt when they were in the throes of passion with each other. Maris was, undoubtedly, the best she'd ever had, and that was never truer than this moment now. It was like coming home and finding everything was brighter, sharper, more than it had been before. Every sound Maris made only made her want to chase after it, earn more, her own body a wreck of pleasure and desire that swirled together in the most maddening of ways. Rory could pride herself on being a sexual being, someone who enjoyed sex and didn't apologize for that. Even with that, it never felt like this. Save for with Maris.

Rory read everything on her face, even as her own breathing became increasingly labored, her cheeks flushed, sweat dotting her chest and brow, she remained entirely swept up, focused on Maris. She couldn't let herself be vulnerable enough to give voice to what she was feeling, but she knew it. She knew it so deeply in her core that it made her want to burst into tears -- so she bowed her head and stole Maris' lips in a deep, breathless kiss instead.

The way their bodies communicated, even before words came with it was as exhilarating as ever. Her body shook with pleasure and exertion all the same, as she moved her body, her hips rocking faster, more deliberate with every bucking thrust against Maris. She was wetter than she had any right to be, the throbbing ache in her sex reaching new heights as she held onto Maris, arching her body back so she could do exactly what Maris gasped at her for. The dig of her fingers into her waist gave her this slight wince of pain that only accentuated the pleasure she felt, her own gasps and cries echoing Maris as she leaned into the feeling.

If nothing else, hearing her name on Maris' lips is what finally toppled her over the edge mere seconds after Maris. She gasped and cried out, Maris' name on her lips and loudly so, as she rocked and jolted with the severity of her orgasm. "Fuck," She gasped, panting, her arms coming around Maris to hold tight to her. Rory willed this feeling to stay, that here it wouldn't be Maris telling her to get out now that they'd fucked each other. She kissed her neck, still breathing hard. Her body felt half-spent, half desperately wanting more, more, and more after that.

Maris held onto Rory just as tightly, needing something to anchor her while the world just kept on spinning. She'd gotten the release that so often eluded her, but she still wasn't sated. Rory wasn't the only one who wanted more, which is probably why, even though her limbs still felt unsteady (and an awful lot like jelly) she used a sudden burst of strength to roll them over. They were still hopelessly tangled, but now she was the one topping her, her lips kissing a slow path along Rory's jaw.

"Again," she said, the word more of a demand than a question or even a request, her hand already sliding down Rory's thigh and between her legs. She kissed her hard and slow, like she had all the time in the world, like they'd never need to come up for air, her fingers pretty much following the same philosophy. There was no need to rush, but she also wasn't going to make her wait for pleasure.

When oxygen did become a necessity, Maris rested their foreheads together. She may have wanted to watch her, to memorize her reactions but it was dangerous. She knew her eyes could give her away just as easily as her mouth (which she knew could get her in trouble just as easily) but today seemed all about following her instincts and she bit her lip as she reached up and stroked Rory's cheek with her free hand, a gesture that felt a little too intimate. Her fingertips moved to trace the lips she'd just kissed as she whispered. "Still gorgeous, you know."

She could have denied herself this -- that was a thought that struck her for just a moment, leaving her mind just as quickly. Rory could have gone home and convinced herself she didn't want -- nor need this feeling. It overwhelmed her, feeling so desperately that she needed Maris, and that maybe that need was reciprocated just as much. Her body trembled in Maris' arms, but she didn't try to be anything but rapt in the feeling of barely coming down from the high they'd given one another. Rory let out a soft 'woosh' breath as she found herself on her back, a wide grin bursting across her face as she eagerly met Maris' lips in a kiss.

"Yes," She managed to squeak out, as though her body language wasn't clear enough how much she wanted more. Her tongue swept over Maris', a guttural kind of groan escaping between their lips as her hips jerked into the attention of Maris' fingers. Overly sensitive and beyond aroused, it didn't take much to make her shiver, and still want her all the more. It reminded her of the days -- particularly early in their relationship but never entirely waning off either -- that they could spend hours on end in their bed - sex, sustenance, conversation, laughter, more and more sex. The thought of that alone gave her space to want to indulge in that - for as long as they could.

Panting against her lips, Rory whimpered a soft sound as her hips gently rocked into Maris' hand. Her own hands moved over her body, gliding up her back and hooking around her shoulders for a moment, short nails dug into her skin. Her heart thundered in her chest - not just from the pleasure currently soaring through her body - as their eyes met. She wished that there was some passive way to be in a moment like this, that she could put on an air of indifference or 'this is just sex' conveyed by a look. She was never a good poker player, and could never lie to Maris. She knew as she leaned into the touch of her hand on her cheek, that too much of her mind (and heart) was present there. It was a complicated mess, but apparently their mess just the same. "You would know how to make a woman blush even when you're doing -- ah, that." She huffed the last word, her back arching sharply as her overly sensitive body and how Maris touched her. Rory searched for words, but felt like every one of them held with it a possessive word. No matter what she felt, it all came back to mine at the forefront, so instead of saying anything more just then, she tilted her head forward to greedily take another kiss.

"I told you, my only good at remembering facts about old dead white guys and fuck-" She was cut off by Rory's kiss, a bubble of laughter escaping her lip. Their banter was easy to fall into. In fact, talking to Rory was suddenly easier than it had been since they found each other again. There really was no sense in holding anything back anymore. She'd already given in. Her body had already betrayed how much she wanted this and her company in every sense of the word.

She let her lips travel down Rory's body, her tongue dipping inside her bellybutton as she slipped a bit further inside her, speeding up in an effort to take her over the edge.

"Right," She finally replied moments later when she was forced to break away for breath, her own laugh echoing Maris' one. Rory felt it too, how it felt like a tension they'd been holding onto for what felt like no reason (though yes, there were in fact a lot of reasons) snapped and they could just be themselves again. This great version of herself even, that she felt she'd been missing for a long time. Funny how just hours ago now, she had told herself that getting coffee and spending time with Maris was enough - that they could just enjoy each others' company as friends and see how that was. What a fool she'd been, to ever think she could actually deny herself this. Not just the sex, not just the feeling of being with her - all of it. This person who somehow, years later, still knew her on a level nobody else did.

"Oh lord," She sort of exasperatedly sighed as Maris went away from her lips, her body responding in kind to every kiss against her skin. Rory's wants felt split between wanting to watch Maris and wanting to arch back and just feel everything she was doing, but she was greedy, and propped herself up on her elbows to watch as she lowered herself down her body. Rory felt her thighs begin to tremble, the tension of pleasure reaching a near breaking point. "Ah, there, right there," She whined, her hips lifting and rocking into Maris' hand.

Even though she was doing her best to satisfy Rory, deep down Maris knew she wouldn't be content once her lover was. She wanted more. To please and be pleased. She wanted to find a way to keep Rory in her bed all night and into the next morning and even then it wouldn't be enough.

On some level she knew she'd opened a can of worms. That if this really was the last time they'd do this it would only leave her craving something she couldn't have but in this moment nothing felt unattainable. She had Rory. She had what she wanted but tried so hard not to admit to craving and something in Rory's eyes told her she wouldn't be able to shake this off so easily either.

Her lips kept moving, kissing along Rory's thigh as she slowly lifted one of her legs to reach it. Though she didn't exactly plan on what happened next, breathing in her scent was simply too much for Maris, a reminder of just how long it'd been since she tasted her. So she did. She moaned against her as she started lapping at her clit, her fingers never stopping what they'd been doing all along.

On the one hand, they could say that they never had this - one more night of unbridled passion, some goodbye that they never got. Even if Rory thought that, this was distinctly not that. In her mind, however terrible it might make her feel later, she wasn't giving this some kind of timeline. No, this was a hello, not a goodbye. Rory didn't think of the consequences, nor would she at present. She instead reveled in the feeling of being with Maris again, of loving her like this again.

All the complicated bullshit would have to wait for another time. She couldn't think past the next ten seconds, let alone hours. Her mind was too wrapped up in Maris, in the tangible affect she had on her body, and how much she was, even in the midst of her own pleasure, desperate to give Maris more.

If it was at all possible at present to feel more aroused, wetter than she already was - the sensation of Maris' lips descending her body would do it. She hummed a moan, breathy and desperate as she nearly quaked in anticipation. Only when Maris' tongue touched to her clit did she fall back on the bed, not in some dramatic fashion but because her arms simply wouldn't hold her up anymore in the wake of that pleasure. "Fuck, Maris..." She cried out her name, letting it phantom echo in the room around them. Yes, this was Maris, the woman she still mercilessly dreamed about. Her woman, so much so that hadn't even changed. "Babe, I'm, fuck..." She panted, her tone somehow both deeper and a breathy whine as she rolled her hips into her mouth and fingers. It would have embarrassed her, how lost in abandon she was, and even more so, how it took what felt like under a minute before she was clutching the sheets in her fists, crying out as she crashed over the edge - but she wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. Maris had this affect on her, and she wanted her to know it.

She didn't come up until Rory's moans and shivers decided, lingering even after because she couldn't get enough of the taste of her, or quite believe that the other woman somehow tasted exactly the way she remembered. She didn't even think she had remembered, but everything was coming crashing back to her. For better or worse.

Her lips traveled up her body at the same speed they'd travelled down it, though she did stop to soothe each of Rory's nipples with her tongue before pressing a soft, almost chaste kiss on her lips.

Watching her fall apart and knowing it had all been her doing was an undeniable turn on, but it was something she'd rewind and savor later. It seemed important to keep making memories in the here and now.

She wiped a strand of hair, plastered with sweat away from Rory's face, her lips twitching as the other woman opened her eyes once more. "There you are," she whispered softly, a tease of a greeting she'd given her a thousand times before in sweat soaked moments like these when she was waiting for the aftershocks to subside and Rory to come back to her.

It seemed fitting because it she really had in more ways than one.

It was truly unfair for someone to know her so well, to know exactly which figurative strings to pluck on her body to get her whole being to sing. Her fingers felt sore by the time she released her grip on the sheets, sure that she saw some sort of other-dimension with that one.

Rory panted all the while as Maris took her sweet time returning to her, a soft hum coming from deep in her throat as her body shivered in the aftershocks of their sex. Her hands reached for Maris, brushing one down across her ribs and the other through dragging through her hair. She sighed into the kiss, soft and languid as it was.

"Right where you left me." She answered without thinking, an old reply she'd said hundreds of times as their eyes met. She should feel bashful or even slightly ashamed by it - all things considered - but instead she just huffed a little laugh and kissed her again. Her lips only parted from Maris' in order to steal a breath or two, her arms coming around her to hug their bodies tightly together again.

The old banter felt new again, charged with something different, meaningful. She smiled softly, brushing her fingertips over Maris' jawline, thumb brushing over her cheek and then to her lips. "It's really unfair of you to somehow get more beautiful. There should be rules about that." She chuckled, leaning in and kissing her quickly, before she began to kiss at her neck, sucking softly, nipping there.

The nearness of Maris was enough to charge her all again, if only in a drive that she needed to give back what she was given - and then some. She nudged Maris with her hip, her hand traveling down her body as her lips did the same, but she paused in her descent to lavish attention on her breasts, taking one of her nipples into her mouth. She hummed softly against her skin as she slid her hand between Maris' legs, dragging her knuckles against her slick folds.

"Well, the blood of virgins isn't quite so good around here but I make do," Maris quipped, but Rory's compliment was keenly felt. As was every brush of her mouth against her skin.

"Mmm," she purred, her voice husky as Rory began to touch her, her legs automatically spreading just a bit more to give her easier access. The rain seemed to have started up again, another summer shower that would probably be brief and over before they finished, but it was a nice soundtrack and a pleasant scent wafting out from Maris' open balcony door. It brought with it a cool breeze, welcome when she was feeling as warm as she was, but the chill caused her nipples to harden even more and a few shivers that had nothing to do with Rory's fingers.

"Ever resourceful." Rory teased right back, a grin breaking across her face as she moved her attention to the other of Maris' nipples, lashing her tongue over it before her mouth closed over it for just a bit more attention. Lord, she missed every inch of her body, but she really had always been keenly aware of the pleasure she could give with her mouth at specific areas - breasts being a particular favorite.

Rory wasn't even currently aware of the rainfall, she was so fixed on Maris. Her mouth pulled back with a soft pop of sound, when she smirked and dipped a finger inside of Maris, just one, and slowly. "My turn for a taste," She hummed her words, her own voice hoarse with want as she kissed her way down Maris' stomach, casting her eyes up to her face as she nipped at her hip bone and used her free hand to push gently on one of her thighs. Rory took her sweet damn time, her finger slowly stroking inside of her as she kissed the mound above her, then moving lower to her thigh. A kiss there, then a gentle bite with her teeth. She was practically salivating by the time she moved to nudge her mouth closer, watching from her vantage point as she began to slowly stroke her tongue against her clit.

Maris had never been one to keep quiet in the bedroom, especially with Rory but she couldn't shake the feeling she was being especially vocal this time around. Her groans and soft gasps of pleasure were almost girlish, her fingers digging into the sheets the same way Rory's had moments earlier. Her hips tried to match her lover's pace but they were increasingly erratic, desperate for more of what Rory was giving her.

But the sounds she was making before were nothing compared to the ones she made when Rory's tongue stroked her clit. Her throat was getting horse from moaning so much as her hand slid down to stroke Rory's hair encouragingly until she felt herself spilling against her tongue, her eyes fluttering shut as her teeth sunk into her lower lip.

Every sound that Maris made felt like the most beautiful symphony to Rory. Every one told a story, what she was feeling, what she wanted, how she wanted it. Every one she earned was a thrill, and only made Rory want to earn more. The memories of this, of their sex and how good it was held nothing to the reality of it. She should have known, she should have guessed that nothing came close to her. No one, either.

Rory groaned into her as she felt her hand in her hair, her tongue lapping against her clit, circling the bundle of nerve endings as she slid a second finger inside of her. She worked her mouth and hand in conjunction with each other, meeting whatever Maris' hips decided to do. She closed her mouth over her clit, humming a sound as she felt her, her tongue sliding down to meet her fingers as she let the taste of her wash over her senses. She only pulled back when she needed to breathe, her fingers pulling out of her to smooth over her sex, gentle while maybe a little evil given how sensitive she likely was. "Wow." She gasped, grinning all the while as she kissed Maris' hip again, then her stomach, peppering open-mouthed kisses on her way up to her lips.

She kissed her deeply, regardless that her own lungs burned for reprieve. Her arms slipped around Maris, as she shifted in closer to her.

Maris may have still wanted more, but they both needed and deserved a bit of a break. She had never been an overly affectionate sort, even hugs kind of pushed the envelope with her, but holding Rory always felt natural and right now, it felt like something she needed to do.

She reveled in more skin to skin contact almost as much as she did the aftershocks of her orgasm, dropping a kiss on the top of Rory's head. Maris may have been calm and still, but the same couldn't be said for the weather outside. The light rain shower had turned to a full on storm, complete with lightning. It was more electrifying than ominous, though Maris couldn't help but jump at a particularly loud strike that seemed awfully close to the house. She let out a laugh at her own skittishness, then frowned as another hit followed. When the fan in her room stopped spinning, she frowned. "The power must be out," she murmured, absently combing her fingers through Rory's hair. It normally would have been an annoyance, but mishaps like these were always a bit more bearable, occasionally fun, even, with a bit of company.

So many times in their bed - well, this very bed, actually, the pair of them could lay about for hours, doing whatever it was they needed to do. Rory liked to spread out with papers in bed (desks were so stiff), or a good book or a movie - and even if they weren't all over each other, she'd often be just ... touching her. A hand on her thigh, her fingers idly brushing through her hair. Rory was an affectionate person, a tactile one at that, and so touch was very important to her. Never could be more aptly stated than a moment like this one. She didn't want to move, didn't want to break away from Maris in the slightest. Though, the threat of something "breaking" through the moment was dormant at this point. She didn't think some great swelling of conscience would be a problem now. Not after that.

She heard it now - kind of hard not to - the thunderstorm outside that tore through the night. Rory laughed softly as Maris flinched at the clap of thunder, shaking her head and hugging her tighter. "Afraid of a little --" She was cut off mid sentence when fan on them stopped, smiling in the dark as she let her eyes fall shut. She could practically purr at how nice it felt to have Maris' fingers through her hair like that. It was always a weakness of hers. "I guess so. Don't go bumping around in the dark, I wouldn't want to lose you." It was meant as a joke, even teasing, but the truth of her words struck her a moment later. She didn't want to lose Maris again, and that was so. fucking. complicated. Tilting her head towards Maris, she brushed her lips against her throat, kissing her there, then under her jaw as she brushed her own fingers down her spine, re-memorizing her body. "I always think there's a kind of magic in thunder storms. Don't laugh at me." She warned with a glare she wasn't sure she could even see from their current position, but it was there nonetheless.

If the power had gone out when Maris was alone, she would have already been up and out of bed, puttering around to try flipping light switches and feel for her phone so she could call the electric company and get things back on track.

But even moving a few inches away from Rory (who probably remembered how take charge she had been when the power went out during a snowy winter break) wasn't an option. She dropped a kiss on the other woman's shoulder, letting her lips linger on Rory's skin as she murmured, "Magical how?"

Maris may not have laughed, but she was too grounded, logical to consider anything magical. But there was a certain magic in this moment. A certain charged feeling in the air whenever they were together. Something had brought them back together like magnets.

"Does this magic come with a stipulation you can't leave this bed before midnight?"

It was meant to be a joke, but it was also Maris way of asking Rory to stay the night. She subconsciously tensed a bit as she waited for her answer, hoping Rory picked up her meaning without her having to spell it out. She kissed her neck for good measure, teeth dragging across the curve in case Rory needed a little extra incentive. "Seriously, I hear you'll turn into a pumpkin," she purred.

Reality of some kind probably should have come crashing down on Rory by now, but in the honest, real moment this was, she wasn't sure that anything would actually pull her away from Maris. In some vague way, she knew that later she'd have to deal with a lot of heartache and worry, logistics and feelings she wasn't quite willing to commit to just yet. Those were all left for later, and had no place here in this bed.

The power outage just allowed her to feel even less inclined to get up at all.

"I just mean everything kind of goes quiet, other than the weather. It feels other-worldly." She was a bit too much of a realist to think of actual fairies and magic dust kind of thing, but there was no other way she thought to describe it.

A small sigh left her at the kiss on her shoulder, her own nose nuzzling against Maris' neck and luxuriating in the sent of her. There was a myriad of reasons she shouldn't stay. Jess didn't live with her, but she had a key, was over enough that she might as well ... but going anywhere Maris wasn't felt like she'd be losing a limb. Dramatic? Yes, but it felt true.

"Oh no, a pumpkin." She hummed back, goosebumps raised all over her skin, a soft noise off her lips as she kissed Maris at the curve of her neck in turn, then up towards her jawline. "I can think of twenty more appetizing things to turn into ... or not at all." She laughed softly, her whole body thrumming with warmth at the soft exploration of each other they were giving time to now.

Rory kissed Maris on her cheek, smiling softly as she murmured low, "I don't have to go anywhere." She tried not to let that land as heavily as it sounded, as her teeth nipped at her ear.