Just a little somethin' somethin' I pieced together. Got off work at 2am and couldn't sleep so voila! I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading/favoriting/reviewing, all of that fun stuff!

Also, the italicized parts are Grace's thoughts/feelings.

It always started the same. Grace and Frankie would say their good nights and go their respective ways. Grace would ascend the stairs, enter her bedroom and begin her nightly routine. But changing from the day's wear into pajamas then heading into the bathroom to remove her makeup, Grace grew to expect her inevitable bedroom guest. There was a slight variation each night but usually somewhere between applying her nightly face moisturizer and brushing her teeth, five rhythmic knocks would sound on the other side of her door. Grace would then respond with a double knock of her own, granting access to Frankie, as if they were in some sort of speakeasy.

The salt and pepper haired woman had come up with the idea of a secret knock ("Shave and Haircut", who wouldn't be able to replicate that?) in the midst of her post break-in paranoia. Because criminals were polite and known for knocking on doors before kicking them down and ransacking unsuspecting people's homes. The blonde went along with it because she still felt guilty for lying about having a gun and was more than willing to appease her housemate. She didn't even sigh and roll her eyes at the "Janet Reno" shoes that still hung out by the door anymore. If she was being completely honest with herself (which she found she was doing a lot more these days, dammit), she'd come to appreciate and in some cases revere the strange woman's quirks. There was no doubt that she had some interesting practices and ideas, but they were very uniquely her and that's what made them special. Going along with them kept her happy. "Happy wife happy life", as they say.

Wait, what? NOPE. Frankie was not her wife, nothing of the kind. Borderline friends at best whose seriously fucked up history is such a shit show that there was literally one one else that either of them could have gone to. Only the other one would truly understand what they were going through so here they are, unexpectedly living together but oddly comfortably doing so. That's all.

Assured that it indeed was Grace, (because once again, surely criminals would be lying in wait in Grace's bedroom) Frankie crept into the room, shy and uncertain, her bottom lip held between her teeth.

"Yes, dear?" Grace had begun to use this phrase more and more. Initially the sarcasm that coated the words was effortless, just a simple pacification to Frankie's rambling or ultra special requests, but lately it was being used more casually and had taken a turn towards more genuinely endearing.

But it was nothing, it was like a double air kiss to both cheeks to one of her stuffy non-friends. It meant nothing. Right? Right.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Frankie's voice was uncharacteristically soft. She stopped using excuses a while ago, the ones that she would craft were becoming pretty far fetched, even for her. But her blue eyes still held such hope laced with a touch of apprehension. The same look was also present when she would ask Grace if they could go to Del Taco every time they got in the car to anywhere, to which Grace would always reply "no". However in this instance, she felt powerless and stripped of all her resolve to deny this precious creature anything. She always was when it came to this part of their day. Lately, it seemed as if the conclusion of the day became her favorite-

Because what? Because then she could let her guard down and give in to what she would refuse to acknowledge outside of this room? Because before she gave herself over to sleep, she could give herself to Frankie under the guise of soothing her fears? Because she gave the illusion of being annoyed with the woman's neediness but secretly craved her just as much?

You're happy when someone is taking care of you and you have someone to take care of. You know, being a part of a couple. Isn't that what Brianna said? How that girl managed to be so clueless to her own relationships but eerily insightful to others was totally beyond her.

"Do you have any sort snack food that is sticky and/or will be loud and/or leave crumbs in the bed?" Before Frankie could respond, Grace added, "That includes packaging. I don't want to hear any crinkling of plastic or wake up to you jabbing me in the side so I can open anything for you. Nor do I want gummy bears in my hair. Again." Grace interrogated Frankie with narrowed eyes.

Frankie took the bags of crunchy Cheetos and jelly beans she'd been hiding behind her back and passed them to Grace, who would later place them on the night stand on her side of the bed (HER side of the bed, oh God.), out of Frankie's reach.

"What is this, a fat camp admissions shakedown?" Frankie pouted.

"Anything else you've tucked away somewhere? Ever since we watched that episode of "Lockup" and you expressed an appreciation for the inmates innovative "prison purses", I don't trust you not to utilize your own."

"I'm clean. You want me to squat and cough?"

Ignoring her, Grace continued. "Are your feet relatively warm with clipped and filed toenails?"

"Check! With socks for extra coverage." She kicked off one of her slippers to prove it.

Narwhals. Of course her socks would have narwhals on them. How could Frankie not have an appreciation for the unicorns of the sea? Lordy, this woman would be the death of her.

"Did you go to the bathroom?"

"An hour ago but I haven't drank anything so I should be good. All empty." Frankie dazzled her with that winning smile.

"I suppose you've passed the inspection. Access granted." Grace said, moving around to the far side of the bed and pulling back the covers to get in.

"Yippee! You're the best!" Frankie practically jumped in beside her, burrowing under the blankets until just her face was in view.

"And Frankie, if you are even entertaining the idea of starting a pillow fight or putting my hand in a glass of water while I sleep, I swear to God..." Grace warned, reaching over to turn out the lamp.

"Be cool, mama. I'll behave. Promise." Frankie craned her neck to press a kiss to Grace's forehead.

Oh yeah and then there was that. That very innocent kiss on the very innocent forehead with very innocent intentions that brought about anything but innocent feelings.

"You'd better." Grace said with finality as they both settled in to the comfort of the bed.

Grace never slept long past sunrise. Years of waking up early to go the office had caused her to be an early riser. Even though those days were long gone, she didn't need an alarm clock and once light began to seep into room, she was up and ready to greet the day.

But more and more she found herself lingering in bed for a few minutes more. She would bask in the comfort that Frankie's presence brought. At some point throughout the night, the two women had wrapped themselves around one another. Their legs intertwined, bodies pressed closed together, arms circling torsos with Frankie's head nestled under Grace's chin. She could feel the sleeping woman's shallow breath against the area of her chest that was uncovered by her pajama top. She was trying her damnedest to be unaffectedbut it felt so good to hold someone and be held. And Frankie's hair smelled so wonderful, her body was so soft. They fit so perfectly together-

What was she doing? At the age of seventy-three she was laying in bed with another woman feeling more comfortable and at ease and safe than she had in forty years with a "strapping man's man." She didn't need a gun. She didn't need a Robert. She didn't even need a man. She needed Frankie.

So what was she doing again?

Oh, yeah. Trying desperately to hold on to what little sanity and heteronormativity she had left, that's what she was doing. Phew, she was grasping at some thin straws.

Okay, enough. She needed to break this...whatever this was. The time for indulgence was over. They had work to do.

Attempting to extract herself without disturbing Frankie too much, Grace was only pulled tighter to the other woman who snuggled deeper into her, grumbling an "Mm-mm" that was muffled against her chest,

Grace rubbed her back a few times before speaking softly, "We've got to get up. Lots to do today."

In an adorably sleepy voice, Frankie responded, "You're so warm and soft."

I swear this woman knows exactly what she's doing sometimes. Like some sort of hippie seductress. And the worst part is its working.

"Ok, a minute more but seriously...it's already 7:30." Grace was beginning to spoil Frankie more and more, this being one of those times.

"Well, in that case, I'm definitely not letting you go. It's entirely too early to get out of bed. I'm pretty sure it's illegal." Frankie sounded more awake but she showed no signs of moving. They laid there for a few more minutes.

Suddenly coming up with an idea, Grace interrupted their comfortable silence, "If you can't obey all the rules, I'm going to make you sleep in your own bed next time." But would she, really? Come on. All signs point to "no".

She continued, "Not to mention I woke up in the middle of the night without any blankets and your foot digging into my spine."

"You'd be cutting me a break. You're no Briar Rose in bed yourself, lady. My favorite part of last night was definitely you snoring in my ear."

"Oh, honestly. You're the first bed-mate who's ever mentioned that flaw."

Did she just say "bed-mate"? She might as well get a t-shirt that says "Nobody knows I'm a lesbian...including me!" on it.

Thankfully it seemed the slip up was lost on Frankie. She didn't miss a beat.

"I'm not kidding, you really do snore. Nothing too disruptive. Just a light snore, but definitely a snore. And you grind your teeth. You really should get a night guard. It's not the first time I've noticed. Don't want to wear those pearly whites down to little stubs. Then no one would want you and you'll be stuck here with me forever."

But would that really be so bad? They've managed for this long. Grace doesn't even really remember what it was like before she lived with Frankie. Certainly no dishwasher doors ripped off their track or saging of the house because of bad energy. And surely no feigning interest in spelling bee championships while keeping as much popcorn out of the couch cushions as she could between Frankie's spastic movements.

Maybe she had lied when she told Robert that she had been happy enough. Maybe she was content to go an as they were because she didn't know you could find happiness in the most unexpected places with the most unexpected people (person).

"When do you sleep? Or do you just watch me the whole time like some sort of mentally deranged person? Don't think I've forgotten about that time you said 'let's get you out of that skin', Buffalo Bill. I'm going to stop using lotion so my skin will get all rough. Hopefully that'll deter you from turning our lives into Silence of the Lambs." Grace quipped before finally tearing herself from Frankie and sliding out of bed before she could be lured by back in the Temptress.

"Keep flapping your gums and I'll go start digging the hole right now." Frankie threatened as she made her way out of the bed as well, a twinkle in her eye and a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Please. There's not enough glucosamine in circulation to get you and your joints through that task but I'll go cook a nice breakfast to give you the strength to try anyway." Grace sassed back, grinning as she opened the bedroom door.

"Bacon, eggs, and pancakes?" Frankie asked, forever hopeful.

"Turkey bacon, egg whites and wheat bread." Grace corrected matter of factly before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

"Despot!" Frankie hollered as Grace she made her way down the hall.

"Contumacious!" Grace fired back from the top of the stairs, Frankie could tell there was humor in her tone.

"I don't know what that means but you first, Evilene!"

Chuckling to herself, Grace responded with, "Yes, of course, dear. And can you make the bed today, please?"

Though it was slightly unconventional and downright bizarre in some cases, they had settled into their own beautiful domesticity and it suited them just fine.