"How do you feel?" Delphine asked, leaning back into the couch, mug nestled between her fingertips.

"Well," Cosima sat forward, resting her own mug on the coffee table, "I'm not mutating." A tender smile played on Delphine's lips and her eyes softened.

"No," she agreed. Cosima hummed.

"We should celebrate," she said, and in one movement, lifted Delphine's mug out of her hands and onto the coffee table, beside hers. With the other hand, she guided the blonde's chin down so their lips could meet.

"Cheeky," Delphine whispered, and they kissed again. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not Leekie, not Rachel, not Project LEDA and all its secrets. Not even a mystery illness that killed its victims. Nothing mattered because they were here.

Here was right now. Here was a beautiful woman that kissed Cosima as if her own life depended on it. Here was hope. And hope came in a rundown, half-furnished, hand-me-down lab, but it was beautiful.

Delphine's blouse came off in a flash of tongues and fingers; heavy breaths and hungry lips. She was all giggles and lilac perfume. Cosima was chapped lips and pale skin that didn't match how fundamentallyalive she was. It wasn't until Cosima's jacket fell away from her shoulders, and her own top flew off the back of the couch, that she froze. Delphine's hands reached for the clasp of her bra, and she put a hand to her shoulder, pushed her away.

"Delphine stop. Stop!" She bolted upright and heaved. Loud coughs echoed in the suddenly freezing lab. When it was over, Cosima pulled a shaking hand away from her mouth to see blood dripping down her fingers.