Instead of NaNoWriMo this November I will be participating in 30 Days of Gay over on my Tumblr the-casket-girls, with all of my one-shots posted here as well. Feel free to hop on over to Tumblr and request a TVD/TO pairing!
Staying In
"i'm sick on halloween but told you to go have fun at the party anyway but instead you surprised me with a blanket fort, tons of candy and all my favourite scary movies" + Freelin
"Are you all right dear?" asked old Mrs McCready, her watery grey eyes drifting over Freya.
"I'm fine," Freya replied, wincing at the cracking of her voice. Her throat was on fire, but she'd used up all her lozenges. "Have a nice day!"
The woman seemed skeptical, but she made her way out the front of the shop regardless. The ringing of the bell from above the door made her head pound, but she kept her smile on regardless. Helen McCready was a notorious busybody, and if she saw the slightest sign of weakness the entire town would know about it in an hour.
Wiping at her forehead and finding it hot to the touch, Freya surveyed the shop. She'd set it up as soon as they moved there, she and Keelin and Keelin's three truckloads of stuff. What had once been a bookstore was now an old-school apothecary, complete with rare herbs and ingredients for spells. The local witch community was small, so Freya had to keep the doors open to all sorts: Tourists, skeptics looking for something to mock, and soccer moms that wanted to know what the latest craze was to end their headaches.
Maybe she should pinch some marshmallow root or slippery elm and brew a tea …
The bell above the door jingled again, setting her head spinning all over, but a glance up had her breathing a sigh of relief. "Hey!" she greeted, hoping her voice wasn't too hoarse. "On your lunch break?"
Keelin nodded, a crease forming between her brows. Even in fresh scrubs and sneakers she was the most beautiful thing Freya had ever seen. "I brought coffee, but you look like you could use some tea."
"I'm fine," Freya reassured her.
"Then why haven't you kissed me?" asked Keelin, resting her hip against the other side of the counter as she dropped the tray of coffees beside the rack of prayer beads. At Freya's silence, she smirked. "Didn't want to contaminate me, huh?"
"I'm not sick. I can manage."
Keelin reached over and pressed the backs of her knuckles to Freya's forehead. "You're running a bit of a fever. Do you have a headache?"
Well, she didn't want to lie … "Kind of, but I can manage it. I might have some aspirin in my purse, and I am in a store full of natural remedies."
"You should be home, Freya," said Keelin. "If you think you're good to drive, I can close up for you."
"I'm fine, really—"
"You're sick, and you'll spread that to other people if you stay here." Keelin walked around to Freya's side of the counter, reaching for the stack of paper Freya kept there. She located a marker from next to the register and began writing. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for the pensioners you serve that can't afford to catch a cold this close to winter."
Freya turned pleading eyes on her girlfriend. "I can't be sick on Halloween—it's your favourite holiday." She remembered their last Halloween together, how thrilled Keelin had been setting up the house and arranging their costumes. They'd been invited to a party this year, one thrown by a work friend of Keelin's, and their costumes had taken ages to make …
"And you're my favourite part of every holiday," Keelin told her, finishing up with the sign:
I'M SICK AND MY DOCTOR SAYS I CAN'T COME BACK UNTIL I'M BETTER. IF YOU SEE ME OUT OF THE HOUSE WHILE MY NOSE IS STILL RUNNING, CALL AN AMBULANCE.
Freya sighed. "That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
Nodding thoughtfully, Keelin uncapped the marker again and amended it.
I'M SICK AND MY DOCTOR SAYS I CAN'T COME BACK UNTIL I'M BETTER. IF YOU SEE ME OUT OF THE HOUSE WHILE MY NOSE IS STILL RUNNING, CALL AN AMBULANCE. CALL KEELIN AND DOB ME IN.
"Rude," Freya protested, though she was grateful.
"Necessary," Keelin countered as she grabbed a roll of tape and walked to the door. "Do you think you can drive?"
"It's a head cold, not the plague. I'll be fine."
Keelin finished taping the sign up, facing outward, and flipped the open/closed sign around as well. "I'll finish locking up; you get home and get into bed."
Freya smirked at her. "Yes, ma'am."
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Keelin continued, "I have to get back to work, but I should be home by five or six. We'll skip the party tonight, no big deal."
"It is a big deal; you love Halloween. You can still go to the party. Our costumes aren't too couple-y, and you'll look fine on your own."
"I'd rather wear our couples' costume of flannel pajamas and bed socks, thanks." Keelin gave her a smile so bright it shone and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "See you at home."
Freya almost tripped over the Halloween decorations on the front lawn when she got home. They were everywhere, a symptom of Keelin's obsession with the holiday.
Finally making it inside, Freya made a beeline for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, rolling some ibuprofen out onto her palm and ducking under the running tap to swallow it down with water. She washed her face down, hoping she'd feel a little brighter as soon as possible.
Keelin was always exhausted when she got home.
She was a trauma surgeon, so that wasn't unexpected, but today had been more gruelling than usual. The roads were wet and people were stupid and she'd put more people back together again than she ever wanted to again.
She did love her job. She just wished that sometimes she didn't have to pick up an espresso at 5pm just so she could be present when she ate dinner with her wife.
The door was unlocked when she walked up to it. Keelin opened it almost cautiously, calling, "Freya?" as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her if she was trying to sleep.
She found Freya on the sofa. In her Halloween costume. Curled up into a ball.
"Babe," Keelin groaned, feeling Freya's temperature again. "You should be warm in bed, not here in a Supergirl outfit."
Freya shook her head, forcing herself to sit up. Her eyes unfocused for a moment before coming back. "No, no. We have to go to the party. You wanted to go so badly, you were so excited—"
"I'll be okay," Keelin reassured her. It didn't come up so often now, but sometimes it was really obvious that Freya wasn't raised to consider herself even half as much as she did others. "We can have the party here."
Freya peered up at her, eyes glassy. "But that's not Halloween. You love it so much—it's scary and wonderful."
Keelin leant down and pressed her forehead to Freya's. "You're scary and wonderful, and I love you more than any holiday. Now go have a shower."
"You should get to wear your costume, at least. If we're having the party here."
"Okay. I'll change into my costume if you shower and change into pajamas. Deal?"
Mollified, Freya said, "Deal."
Freya pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the hot water beat down over her back. The steam was clearing her lungs, easing the pain in her throat, and she was starting to think that maybe tonight wouldn't be all bad after all.
She made herself switch the water off eventually, wanting to leave some for Keelin at least. Her hair was shorter than it had ever been and didn't take much effort to towel-dry until it was acceptably damp rather than dripping wet, and her pajamas were like a warm embrace the moment she stepped into them.
Padding out into the living room in her socks, she was met with a sight she'd never forget.
Keelin had found the bright orange sheets they'd bought for no reason (other than that Keelin found them hilarious). She'd managed to make a blanket fort out of them, stretching them over two chairs from the dining room and resting them along the back of the sofa. The Halloween decorations from outside the house had been brought in and pinned to the sheet, bats and spiders and ghosts all dotting the outside of the blanket fort.
As someone that didn't even like Halloween, it was a bit embarrassing for Freya to be tearing up just then.
"Do you like it?" asked Keelin, popping in from the kitchen in her full Wonder Woman suit.
"You did all this?" Freya asked, voice squeaking.
Keelin nodded. "Blanket forts were a tradition when I was growing up. Dad would set them up whenever we were home from school. There's soup on, too. I have Beetlejuice queued up on Netflix. Figured we could watch and eat soup, maybe some candy if you're up for it later."
"Sounds perfect," Freya said, and meant it.
"Go get settled in. I'll set the soup to simmer and meet you in there."
Freya did as instructed, nestling into the blankets and pillows in the nest Keelin had made. She always loved her wife, but sometimes it really hit her that this was her life now, that this was all real. Sometimes she wondered if it was just a dream Dahlia had conjured up to be cruel.
Keelin reappeared, crawling in to sit beside Freya with her legs tucked under her. "How are you feeling? Can I get you any meds?"
"I'm good for now. Had my second dose of ibuprofen about an hour ago."
Keelin pulled her phone from her bra. "I'll set an alarm for your next dose. We should keep up with it."
Freya couldn't stop her grin from turning goofy. "You take such good care of me." Reaching up, she rested a hand on Keelin's cheek. Keelin leant into the gesture, pressing a kiss to Freya's palm before leaning down to meet her lips.
Freya stopped her short. "Don't," she protested. "You'll get sick."
"I kissed you this morning before work," Keelin said, eyes dancing. "If I'm gonna get sick, I will."
"I don't want to tempt fate."
With a sigh, Keelin rested back on her haunches. "I'll be right back," she said, crawling back out of the fort. She returned a minute later with one alteration.
She was wearing a surgical mask.
"Do you really just keep those around?" asked Freya.
"They come in handy," Keelin defended, crawling toward Freya. She didn't stop at her feet, instead clambering over her until she was hovering above her.
Freya may not have been able to see her wife's smile, but she felt it against her own lips a moment later. She didn't even complain about the taste of paper.