Maeve stormed into the small apartment she shared with her girlfriend, scowling as she shed her coat, scarf, and boots, into a damp, frigid pile on the tiny linoleum square around the door.
"Senator Grey is an asshole," she declared to the room at large, not sure if Morrigan was home and quite sure that Kitten, their imaginatively named cat, didn't care.
"You voted for him!" her girlfriend called back, probably from the bedroom, and Maeve grinned despite herself.
"Yeah, well I make poor life choices," she said in a calmer tone as she peeled off her socks, adding them to the pathetic pile, and dug her toes into their nondescript beige carpet.
"No arguments here," her girlfriend replied, leaning on the wall at the entrance to what they generously called their living room. Her smile was warm and crooked, despite the sharpness implied by her words, and she wasn't wearing any pants. Long pale legs stretched out below the hem of her favorite robe, a vibrant wine-colored silk, and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, damp from the shower rather than the rain.
Maeve shook her head, drifting toward her with a series of dancing steps across the carpet. "I take it back. I make excellent life choices."
Morrigan's smile shifted, enigmatic and enticing. "Oh, is that so?"
"Mmhmm," Maeve answered, more purr than words, as she came to a stop in front of her girlfriend, her hands reaching out to tease with the belt of the robe. "Positively brilliant life choices."
Morrigan let her reel her in for a kiss that started sweet but quickly turned hot and dirty. Her mouth was wet heat and her teeth were sharp as they tugged on Maeve's bottom lip, dragging a moan out of her. Maeve's hands slid inside the robe, eager for more, and found warm skin that was quickly pulled out of reach.
Her girlfriend shook her head in response to Maeve's pout, and retied her robe, hiding away the tantalizing glimpse of curves and ink. "I have to finish getting ready and you need to change. Or did you forget we're having dinner with my mother tonight?"
Maeve groaned, her ardor instantly dimmed. "And we're back to the poor life choices. I did forget, I'm sorry. I need to shower, but I'll be fast."
Morrigan raised an eyebrow and Maeve returned the gesture with two of her own. Her girlfriend huffed and Maeve grinned. Unlike Morrigan, she knew how to take a shower that lasted less than an hour. "Trust me, I will not make us late to meet the dragon lady."
Morrigan rolled her eyes, but smiled, and Maeve stole another kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. Continuing her crime wave, she proceeded to steal some of her girlfriend's body wash while showering, unable—as always—to resist the urge to smell like her. Especially then; their evening plans called for extra fortification. She called Flemeth the dragon lady as a joke, no desire to buy into the sexist bullshit that was the overbearing mother-in-law trope, but she honestly wouldn't have been even a little surprised if the older woman had been a dragon in a past life. Or this life. The woman was terrifying. Amazing, and responsible for creating and raising Maeve's favorite person in the world. But terrifying.
After the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and stared into the mirror. She was glad she was rocking braids that month, her natural hair did not allow for quick showers. But the multitude of tiny, purple tipped braids were easy to pull into a high, thick ponytail, and then she brushed some of her favorite gold eyeshadow on. It complimented the deep brown of her skin and she fluttered her eyelashes at herself with a smile. She left off lipstick, having never understood the point of it when you were going out to eat, and swanned out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.
Morrigan had changed into a high-necked black dress that clung to her curves, but swooped down in the back to reveal nearly all of the intricate wings tattooed into her skin. Maeve pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, but stepped away before Morrigan could protest that her damp towel was going to ruin the fabric."You look stunning."
"Yes, well, mother will outshine us both," her girlfriend said, but smiled at the compliment before shooing Maeve toward the closet and reaching for her jewelry box.
Maeve shimmied into a short, dark-purple dress to match her hair. She eyed the easily three-inch heels her already tall girlfriend had put on and settled on flats for herself. She didn't mind being shorter—it gave her interesting advantages during hugs—and she'd never done well with walking in heels. Best not to risk it.
When she turned around, Morrigan had added a multi-stringed gold rope necklace to her ensemble, and was frowning at herself in the elaborate wall mirror Maeve had given her for Christmas the year before. She moved to stand next to her girlfriend and pulled her head down, away from her reflection. "You. Look. Beautiful," she told her, punctuating each word with a kiss to each cheek and then her lips. "I am going to be the envy of everyone we see."
Morrigan smiled, a faint flush coating her cheekbones as her dark eyes reflected the vulnerability she rarely let anyone—including Maeve—see.
"I love my mother, but she." Morrigan stopped and sighed, reaching out to settle her hands on Maeve's hips for comfort before continuing. "She makes it hard to see anything but those places where I don't measure up."
"Your mother is kind of ridiculously amazing," Maeve allowed, then kissed away Morrigan's answering half-smile. "But so are you, and you don't need to measure up to her. You are your own person. My person," she added, a bit possessively, and didn't kiss away the grin it gave her girlfriend. "You don't need to measure up to anyone, and no one could ever measure up to you."
Morrigan didn't answer with words, just leaned down and kissed her, deep and long. By the time she pulled away, Maeve wanted nothing more than to pull off all their finery and drag her to bed. She resisted the urge, and took her girlfriend's hands in her own. "Let's go eat delicious food, and listen to your mother's ridiculously amazing adventures since we saw her last, get drunk on her dime, and then come home for dessert." The last was said with an exaggerated leer.
Her girlfriend chuckled, but nodded, and let Maeve tug her toward the door. The sooner they left, the sooner they could come home so she could ravish her girlfriend. One way or another, it was going to be an excellent night.