Athena's been awake for two hours now. Awake, but unmoving. Already her mind has been at work, analyzing the room, the setting. The possible points of entry, sound defense strategies for each. The bed is against the wall, and herself placed between the door and her companion. Shield by the nightstand, easily accessible. Pistol under the pillow, even more easily accessible.
Sometimes the setup changes. Just in case. Always in case. Cameras. Spies. People who want her dead. People willing to hurt her lover to get to her. It's the same fears. Screams. Silence. Blood. So much blood. The room has no windows. An intruder would have to break the door first. Time. Precious time. Time to prepare. To defend. Protect.
There's a flashbang under the mattress, the other side. Last resort. Precaution. For if they get through her. The escape route has been planned, practiced. Safe houses mapped and committed to memory. The first one is a mile away. The second is six. There are five total. No fast travel stations. Use the runners only for those more than a mile out. Abandon the vehicle; destroy it if possible. Her pistol is good. Janey's is good. She taught her hand-to-hand defensive combat. Disarm. Disable. Run. They have matching sub-programs on their ECHO devices. Janey's can ping for help, consistently transmitting coordinates with the signal. Athena's pings if it isn't touched in fifty days; "I'm compromised or worse. Forget me."
Overkill? Maybe. Maybe not. It might be necessary, one day. Best to be prepared. Best to be ready. The alternative is unthinkable. She won't compromise safety on a chance. Janey's life isn't worth that chance. And still, mornings like this, laying in bed and thinking, Athena has to fight the urge to leave. To run. To never come back. Protect Janey. Keep her safe from her enemies, from herself. Is their life together worth this? Worth the layers upon layers of plans, strategies, sleepless nights? Janey could have a life. A reasonably normal life. Guilt crushes her heart.
Yet, before she can make to leave, to escape, Athena's thoughts are melted away by a single touch of lips upon the back of her neck. Janey's lips are chapped, they always are, but the kiss is so soft it takes her breath away. So much affection bleeds through that simple action. Love warms her exposed skin, cooling in the air when the blonde pulls away. Something coils in her gut, settling there comfortably even as she feels calloused fingers caressing the toned expanse of her stomach. The gesture is slow, thoughtlessly calculated. It gives Athena time to voice objection.
No protests come this day, though. No complaints about the violation of her personal space. She hasn't had any for years now. The routine has seeped into her skin, her blood. It's relaxing. Her expression softens, her posture loosens, and she leans back into the embrace even as Janey holds her closer.
"Morning, darl," greets her ears. It's a precious, beautiful sound. Janey's accent is still as thick as the day they left Elpis together, and she mourns the day it will eventually bleed into the common Pandoran drawl. For now she treasures it, holds it tightly to her heart and mind.
For a time there is silence, and that is fine. It is broken only by the sound of their breathing, the slide of fingers on skin, Janey's lips on her neck and shoulders. A strong sensation of relaxation permeates the room, lethargy so thick it settles over her until Athena closes her eyes with a deep, pleasant sigh. And then she speaks, voice nothing more than a gentle murmur. "Can you stay in today?"
Athena doesn't need to see the woman to know Janey is absolutely delighted by the prospect. "Yes," is the immediate response, and that settles the matter neatly. Her eyes don't open and she doesn't move aside from taking the time to tangle her legs with Janey's (which is met with mild protests about cold feet). And then there is nothing. Nothing but silence. Sweet, blissful silence in a stuffy little room.
They drift off back to sleep and for a few hours more Athena is not plagued by her paranoia.