A/N: This is a story I am rather happy with, which doesn't happen very often if you want me to be honest. It's a pairing I'm not very used to, which made me rather apprehensive about trying to write the story. But apparently, stepping out of my comfort zone is good for me! Please let me know what you think about the story. Even if you hate it! Just tell me why. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor will I ever. That is just the way it is.
Remembering
A soft breeze was playing through the leaves of the trees that surrounded the small graveyard. Between them, blue forget-me-nots and white daffodils poked through the grass. There were also flowers on most of the graves, such as red roses and tulips. Other loved ones had chosen to honor the one they'd lost by putting photographs or other reminders of the beautiful times they'd spent together on the graves.
From the bench where Grace was seated, the place seemed very peaceful. Almost fairytale-like, if she were honest. Though she was feeling sad, not calm or at ease.
Grace normally avoided visiting the graveyard. Although she was a strong woman, the memories of the loss she had suffered that was forcing her to visit the place would make it impossible to remember the good times.
Because the one who had captured her heart, the love of her life, was buried here. She knew it was like that for many people, but where they found it cathartic, a way to deal with the loss, for her it did nothing but reopen the wounds that had barely closed three years after the events.
Stella Goodman, her Stell, had only been twenty seven. She had had her entire life in front of her, so many things to see, to do and to be. To this day, Grace was still oblivious as to the reason why Stella's life had had to end so abruptly, without any warning and too soon. It should have been Grace who died first, seeing as she was thirty years Stella's senior.
But faith had decided differently. Grace was still around, left to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Getting up from the bench, she sighed. It would be dark in a few hours, so there was no one walking around between the graves any longer. For her, this meant she would have the time she needed alone with her lover.
Touching the small box in her pocket, she remembered the reason why she had chosen this present for Stella's birthday. It actually brought a smile to her face that touched her eyes, which was a rare occurrence these days.
It was a rainy day. Grace was laying on the sofa, her reading glasses on and her book heavy in her hand. Stella was sitting with her, her hand resting on Grace's knee.
"What necklace are you wearing?" Stella suddenly asked.
Grace lowered the book, looking at Stella. But the younger woman did not notice, as her eyes were glued to the small pendant dangling right above Grace's breast. She smiled. Stella would not keep her eyes there for much longer if Grace kept silent. That much was certain.
"A very old one. My mother wore it on her wedding day. Her grandmother, who raised her, gave it to her. I don't wear it often. I'm always scared of losing it when I do," she said.
Stella lifted Grace's legs, sliding from beneath them so she could crawl further up and straddle her hips
"I think it's beautiful. Will you wear it if we ever get married?" the younger woman asked.
Grace was a little surprised at the question. Though she was well aware Stella was not proposing to her, she was indicating her desire to one day become her wife. Which warmed Grace's heart.
And it gave her the courage to peak the next words, the most perfect answer she could have possibly come up with.
"No. I would like for you to wear it on our wedding day," she said.
Stella did not say another word, instead claiming Grace's lips in a heated kiss that soon made them move from the sofa to the bedroom.
Realizing she had reached Stella's grave, she came to a halt. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the words on the headstone.
Stella Goodman
1982 – 2009
Beloved daughter and partner
La mort est seulement si puissante que vous la fait. Rendrez-la donc impuissante, car de cette façon, je serai immortelle.
She found those last words very beautiful. The first time she had read them, she had been standing next to Audrey Fournier, Stella's mother. The woman had translated the words, even though Grace had learned more than enough French during her years with Stella to do so herself.
"Death is only as powerful as you make it. So make it powerless, because that way, I will live forever," she had whispered.
Grace had squeezed Audrey's hand, and she had squeezed back.
Ever so carefully, Grace lifted the box out of her pocket. She opened the lid, revealing an elegant silver necklace with a dark blue pendant hanging from it. On the back, a couple of words could be read in the same shade of silver as the necklace. Love and luck. Her grandmother had told her those words were what was important in life.
Slowly, she draped the necklace around the bottom of the bunch of flowers standing in the small vase on the grave. No one would be able to see it there, but it would be there. It might not be on their wedding day, but this way Stella would still have it.
"I love you, Stell," she whispered.
She did that every time she came, as she wanted Stella to remember that forever. And even though she would not be able to hear it, it made Grace feel better.
Sinking down on her knees, she thought back to the first time she had said those three little words to her angel.
Sitting in the sun in the garden, Grace could still hear Stella chatting with her mum on the phone. They had been together for only a month, so she did not understand much of their conversation. Even though she was good with languages, she would have to practice some more.
"Oui, maman, je suis amoureuse d'elle," Stella suddenly said, the smile evident in her words.
That, Grace could translate. Yes, mum, I am in love with her. Grace's heart nearly burst with joy.
Apparently, Stella's had little else to say, because mere seconds after she had said those words, she stepped into the garden as well.
"I'm so sorry I've been running through your house for the past hour. I just wanted to talk to my mum, give her a heads up about us. You see, I've never had a girlfriend that I've wanted to bring home to meet the family. I didn't want her to have to wrap her head around you and me to rapidly," she apologized.
Grace smiled.
"I told you to treat the pace like your own, Stella. Don't feel bad for doing something I asked you to do," she admonished the younger woman gently.
Stella sat down next to her on the blanket, immediately resting her head on Grace's shoulder. Since the first day they had confessed their love for one another, Grace had noticed Stella was very touchy-feely. And Grace was more than happy to indulge her.
"You know, I heard the end of your conversation. I couldn't help it, you were stepping right past the door," Grace said.
Stella didn't move, she simply waited for Grace to continue on. Which the profiler was glad about, as it showed just how comfortable the redhead felt around her.
"And there something I want you to know; I love you too," she whispered into Stella's ear.
Stella crawled even closer to her, not leaving any space between them. Her hand came to rest on Grace's thigh.
"Good," she replied, tipping her head to press a butterfly-light kiss to Grace's lips.
Returning back to her present day surroundings, Grace realized she should be heading home. The sun was beginning to really sink now, and it would be a half an hour drive to her house.
Getting back up, she press her hand to her lips and brought it back down to touch the headstone. A goodbye kiss, or maybe a kiss that said see you later. Another things she always did on those rare occasions that she visited the graveyard.
Pulling her coat tighter around her, she realized that she was far more susceptible to the cold nowadays. It seemed age was finally catching up with her.
Within five minutes, she was on her way home. As there wasn't a lot of traffic on the road at this time of day, she made good progress. Which was a good thing, as she would not be able to concentrate on the road for a long period of time. Her mind was too full of Stella. And she did not want to collide with one of the very few people on their way home.
So she turned on her radio, listening to the people talking and the songs playing. It would make time pass more quickly, and it would help her not to think about Stella too much. As would letting some fresh air in. She had used that trick often during their relationship, when she was too close to Stella during their time at work not to be affected by it and needed to keep herself from touching. In those instances she would make sure to find an excuse to step outside for a minute.
Don't go there, you'll only distract yourself again by thinking about that, she sternly told herself.
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, she realized five minutes had passed while she had been thinking about Stella, and that ten minutes of her ride were already over. Turning a corner, she hoped the remaining twenty minutes would pass as quickly.
Which they ended up doing. Because she stop on her driveway and walked towards her door, it felt like only five more minutes had passed.
When she stepped into the hallway, a little, flickering light told her someone had called her while she had been gone and that this person had left a message. She immediately realized whose voice she would be hearing once she let the message play. And she needed to hear it, in fact. He was her best friend, and the words on the machine would be full of support.
She clicked one of the buttons and shrugged off her coat, hanging it as Peter's voice filled the air.
Hey there, Gracie Grace. I want you to know I haven't forgotten that it's Stella's birthday today. And I wanted to tell you that I'm well aware of how much you must be missing her. Just know you're not alone. I'm here for you if you need me. Call me whenever you feel like it, no matter what time it is, alright? And try to get some sleep. Dream of her. Convince yourself you won't forget her. Because I know you're damn scared about that, but your heart is too big for that. Have a good night, Gracie Grace.
She smiled. After three years, she was indeed somewhat scared that the memories would begin to fade soon. But Boyd had, in a very eloquent way, said that wouldn't happen. Which made her feel very glad.
After turning off the machine, she climbed the stairs. She wanted to take a shower and lay down, as she had been up since six that morning. She wouldn't be calling Peter tonight, but it would probably be the first thing she did when she woke up the next morning. And just like he had done last year, Peter would most likely take her out to eat and talk to her about Stella when she wanted him to, or listen to her stories about the redhead if she needed him to.
Grabbing a towel from the closet on the landing, she silently thanked whatever deities might be out there that he was in her life. Many others would have avoided becoming as close to Peter as she had, because at first sight he was gruff, downright aggressive at times and did not do emotions very well. Bur Grace knew he was devoted, cared more than anyone else she knew about what happened to those around him and would always stand up for what he believed in.
With her pajamas in her hand, some fresh underwear included in the pile of fabric, she stepped into the bathroom. Turning on the water, she made sure the temperature was just right before stepping in.
As the warm water ran over skin, she suddenly remembered a very heated encounter in this very shower. Which had of course entirely been Stella's fault.
Grace, having noting about her but a rather small white towel, was a little startled when the door to the bathroom suddenly opened. But as it was only her lover of a year, she simply turned back around to turn the water on.
"You do know that towel is not hiding anything, don't you?" Stella asked her.
The profiler smiled warmly at her. It was obvious Stella liked what she was seeing, and Grace was more than in the mood to play.
"Maybe that's why I chose it," she hinted, throwing out the bait.
Of course, Stella took it immediately. Stepping closer to Grace, her hands began to hover over the bare skin of Grace's arms, making goose bumps appear on her skin as.
"Hmm, I like that thought," Stella breathed into the older woman's ear.
Grace felt her pull at the towel, which pooled at her feet within mere seconds. Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself being pushed into the shower.
"What…"
She stopped there, however, as she saw Stella unceremoniously dump her skirt and shirt on the floor in record time. Within one minute, she was next to Grace, her lips connecting to the soft skin of her lover's neck.
Grace groaned.
"You love it when I do that, don't you?" Stella huskily whispered.
Grace only nodded in confirmation, as she did not trust her voice.
Stella pushed her against the wall, her lips now descending on Grace's and her tongue demanding entrance, which the older woman happily granted.
Grace's hands were on the mean time touching every part of the younger woman's skin she could. The sounds Stella was making were making Grace feel even hotter, even more turned on than she already was.
"I want to have you this time," Stella suddenly managed to say, her voice hoarse with lust and almost of no use because of the moans trying to push past her lips.
Grace let her head fall back.
"God," she moaned.
Stella simply slid one of her arms around Grace's waist, steadying her. Then, she uses her knee to push Grace's legs somewhat further apart.
"Fuck!"
The curse escaped Grace before she could stop herself, the feel of Stella sliding a finger inside of her being too overwhelming. Stella chuckled at it, she loved to hear that kind of language from the normally so eloquent profiler.
Grace's world began to spin as Stella began to move her finger. But there just wasn't enough friction. As Stella kissed every part of skin she could, her lips, her breasts, her abdomen, Grace begged shamelessly.
"Please…Stell, please…" she repeated time and again, as a mantra.
After a few more minutes of delicious torture, Stella slid another finger inside of her. With her thumb she touched the pearl of Grace's desire.
The profiler was too far gone to say anything coherent, not a single word. She didn't even manage to say Stella's name as she came.
She was feeling very wobbly, but Stella pulled her against her immediately, supporting her entire weight.
"I can't believe you can undo me as quickly as that," she murmured into the younger woman's ear.
Stella softly laughed at that.
"That's how I feel every time you do that to me," she confessed.
Stepping out of the shower with a smile on her face, Grace dried herself off and brushed her teeth.
She would very certainly be having a very good night. Not because she would be thinking about sex, but because she would be dreaming of the romantic moments Stella and her had shared. Of baths in a bathroom filled with candles, of walked by the beach, of the way Stella smelled.
She would dream of love. As she did every single night. And she would wake up knowing the redhead would always be in her head, her heart and in her life. Whether she was dead or not. Because as long as she remembered her, she would be around. One way or another.