Here we go again. Just another headcanon of sorts, internal thoughts/fears/feelings of Kate Littlejohn. I always want to know what's going on in that brilliant head of hers, so I make it up. Let me know if you like it. I'm still trying to build this fandom.
"I like you."
Those words, so simple, were not words that were new to Kate. She'd heard them before. She'd believed them. But never had they made the impact that they did when coming from Anya's lips.
She didn't make known the way her heart sped up, the way her skin buzzed and her hearing muffled. Kate wasn't sure if her physiological reaction was from reciprocation or fear.
Or both.
Rolling away, hiding herself and her heart was Kate's instinct. There seemed to be no truly appropriate response to the pure honesty pouring from Anya in that moment. Up until that point, it had been fun. A few carefree dates, a good bit of pretty amazing sex. Casual. Relaxed.
Sure, Kate had noticed her demeanor lightening in the brief time that she had spent with Anya. She found herself feeling freer, easier to smile, harder to annoy.
It could have been a coincidence.
It could have been said amazing sex.
Kate wasn't ready to admit that the reason for her recent peacefulness was actually the woman, not the circumstances.
She certainly wasn't ready to admit it to Anya.
The agent's patience with her had always been one of the things that Kate appreciated most about the woman. It couldn't have been easy to be with a person as regimented and structured as Kate, even if casually. Most people wouldn't have wasted their time. The first time that they had to return to Kate's apartment (or office) to make sure the door was locked for the fourth time would have been enough to scare most people away.
Not Anya.
She took it all in stride, even seemingly appreciating the quirks that made Kate Kate. And now she had said as much. Aloud.
Kate decided that this overwhelming feeling surrounding her was sheer panic. Nothing more, nothing less. So she withdrew. She covered her feelings and refrained from saying the simple words back, even though she knew them to be true. Even that wasn't enough to scare Anya away.
Anya knew exactly when to push Kate and exactly when not to. Initially Kate had found that irritating, anxiety inducing. She didn't like change and she hated not being in control of any given situation. When she wanted a conversation to end, it ended. That was no longer the case now that Anya was involved.
"Too much? Too soon?"
The terrified, closed off part of Kate wanted to scream 'YES!', effectively ending the conversation and going back to the homeostasis of solitude.
The bold, adventurous and ever-evolving part of Kate wanted to scream 'NO!' and kiss Anya senseless.
So she did neither. She dodged. She put the conversation off for another day, letting Anya know that even though she wasn't ready, she really didn't want to lose her either. Anya understood these things about Kate without having to be told directly. She always had.
Anya let it go, kissing Kate once again, leaving her breathless and wordlessly telling her that it was okay.
Okay to be scared.
Okay to not be ready quite yet.
The Kate Littlejohn of three weeks ago would have had an anxiety attack if someone threw her alarm clock across the room. She would have kicked them out of her bed, out of her life, without hesitation. Something about Anya had changed that. The feeling that she had with Anya, the way her skin burned everywhere the woman touched, the way her stomach tensed and her mind relaxed was worth more than her need for control.
It wasn't just about the sex.
Kate tried to convince herself that it was, a hopeful rejection of the emotional upheaval that she was experiencing. She had an attraction to Anya immediately upon meeting her and everything would have been much less complicated had it only been lust between them. But Kate had never been a very sexual person. She hadn't had many partners and tended to reserve sexual activity for when she really cared about someone.
Kate Littlejohn was didn't do one-night stands.
She was an intelligent, independent woman and she did not rely on sex as a necessary aspect of her life. That made it incredibly difficult to pass off what she and Anya had as simply lust.
"What were you doing?"
Kate wasn't surprised by the men's overreaction to her being 'late' but she didn't feel the need to answer for it either.
"Enjoying my morning, which thanks to you two I'm not doing anymore."
She could still feel Anya's warm mouth on her skin, her breath ghosting over the hollow of her throat, the weight of the woman on her.
Yep. Enjoying her morning.
Kate realised that she had smiled, alone in her office, well into the day. She should have been focused on the case, on the box-loads of files that she was going through, but images of Anya kept popping into her mind uninvited.
"I like you."
The words were on repeat in her head, slipping back into her memory each time she had finally fully concentrated on the task at hand. The panic was beginning to set in. This time, it wasn't the panic of fear about feeling the same way, of letting someone in and exposing her heart. This time, it was fear of pushing Anya away, of allowing her to think, even for a moment, that her feelings weren't reciprocated.
Terrified as she was, she was more afraid of losing her.
Kate looked around her empty office nervously before pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, chancing a glance at the screen before scanning the room once more. She did not use her phone at work unless it was for work, as a rule. She would not succumb to dependence on the technological world.
No alerts. No missed calls or texts.
Kate shouldn't have been surprised. She and Anya didn't talk while they were at work unless it was about a case, another thing that she liked about the agent. They knew when each other was busy with their job and that was okay.
Kate opened her messaging app anyway.
[How's your day?]
The characters were deleted almost as soon as they were typed. Kate would never send such a text while she knew that Anya was at work. Doing so now would only incite suspicion, inadvertently revealing her vulnerability. Perhaps she should try a more direct approach?
[I keep thinking about this morning.]
This message, too, was discarded, after Kate overanalyzed long enough to decide it may imply that she only liked Anya because of the sex.
Kate sighed, setting her phone down on her desk and resting her head on the back of her chair. Kate could take on tough cases, work her ass off for just about any cause without so much as a stress frown, but this was tough.
Kate closed her eyes and allowed herself to truly consider what she was feeling, what she wanted: She wished that she could be with Anya right in that moment. She liked waking up with her, too, and wished for it to happen much more often. She smiled, imagining Anya's warm arms wrapped around her waist, her hair tickling her shoulders, the woman's scent permeating her senses. That's what she wanted. Just Anya.
[Can I see you tonight?]
This time, the message was sent without hesitation. Anything that Kate needed to express would be better communicated in person, even if she feared her nerves would get the best of her. There were no simple words that could be typed to actually say what she wanted, and Anya deserved as much honesty as Kate could muster.
[Yes, please.]
Anya's reply was short, sweet and arrived quickly. Exactly what Kate needed. It eased the tension that she had felt in her brow, in her shoulders. It lightened her heart and her mind, as Anya seemed to do consistently.
Kate still wasn't sure how to put into words what she was feeling for Anya, what she wanted from whatever they were but at least knew that she still had the chance to figure it out. Right now, that was enough.