This was it. A new start—or that's at least what Hank had called it. But Cordelia knew this was really it. This was the last leg of her relationship with Hank and if this new house couldn't rekindle their love, than nothing could. If she was being honest, Cordelia knew exactly when their relationship had started to fall apart. It was the baby. More specifically her inability to have one. No matter how many doctor visits and fertility drugs she had taken, she just couldn't get her body to respond, to harbor life. There had been pregnancies, plenty, but each one had ended in a miscarriage, tearing away a bigger chunk of Cordelia's heart each time. So emotionally and physically, this new life, this new house in L.A., was quite literally Cordelia's last chance for the one thing she had wanted her entire life; a family. Buying a brand new house across country with the rest of their savings probably wasn't her best bet but she was desperate. And if her relationship with Hank ended than so be it, as long as she got a child out of this ordeal, Cordelia would be more than satisfied.

"Babe?"

Cordelia blinked lazily, Hank's voice interrupting her thoughts. "Hm?" She turned to face him, cars whizzing by as they turned off the highway.

"We're just about there," he peered over at Cordelia, his excitement evident in his eagerness to tug her hand across the divide, lacing their fingers together, "Just ten more minutes until our new life."

She flashed a genuine grin for the promise of finally escaping the cramped car more so than for the promise of her "new life" with Hank. The final minutes ticked by, Hank's subtle smirk transforming into a full blown smile, pearly whites on display.

"Here we are." The car groaned to a stop as he lifted Cordelia's hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each knuckle. "The past is the past," he spoke softly, gesturing towards their new victorian home, "This is our future now."

Cordelia cringed, trying her best not to rip her hand away from Hank. "The past is the past." she stated, not indicating whether she agreed or not. Of course, she disagreed with him. Hank was only saying that to excuse his past, his cruelties and the way he treated her whenever he drank. But Cordelia could never forget, she would forgive for the sake of the child she so desperately wanted, but she would never forget how he whipped her around, drunkenly taking her against her will and claiming it was for "their child".

"Are you here with me?" He ran his thumb over her knuckles, kissing the top of her hand again.

Cordelia yanked her hand away, "Let's go inside." It was late; she was exhausted and the movers had already moved their furniture in. The last thing Cordelia wanted to do was play house with Hank. She slipped from the car, not bothering to turn back though she felt a twinge of guilt for being so cold towards her husband. A piece of her, deep down, still loved him or at least the way things used to be. They were young and in love, so absorbed in each other that getting married at the time had seemed like the only option. But things change, people change Cordelia reminded herself, walking up the steps to their new home. She knew she should have left him but the clock was ticking and if she was having trouble with conceiving now she would never be able to have a child in a few years.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Hank jogged up the steps, catching up to Cordelia,"Marcy said the movers finished around three so everything should be all set up."

"It's a little too dark out to see," Cordelia squinted, raking her eyes up and around the building, trying to find the "old charm" Marcy, their real estate agent had promised. The hair on the back of her neck bristled, a shiver working it's way down her spine as a tuft of blonde curls flashed in the upper-right window—their bedroom window. "Hank!" Cordelia latched onto her husband, "Did you see that? There is someone in our room."

"Delia," Hank laughed, wrapping his arm around her, "I just told you the mover's finished. There is no one here but you and me." He rubbed her arm reassuringly, "You're just tired. Let's get inside and straight to bed. We can explore our new home tomorrow."

Cordelia ignored the sickness that overcame her whenever Hank touched her, allowing him to lead her into the house strictly for her safety.

"See?" He flicked on a light, waving his arm around the foyer, "No one but us."

The uneasy feeling lingered as Cordelia shrugged off Hank, leaving him to trail behind her as she ascended the steps. She could've sworn she was being watched. The floorboards creaked, complaining under her weight as she shuffled towards the bedroom. She stopped right in front of the door, "You go in first."

Hank grinned, "You scared?" He slipped past her, turning the knob and allowing the door to creak open. "Any ghosts in here? Casper the friendly Ghost?," he chuckled, feeling around the wall for a light switch, effectively illuminating their bedroom. "The coast is clear Delia. No ghosts or lost movers."

Cordelia sighed, brushing past Hank to flop on the bed, not even bothering to undress. "Hit the lights when you're done," she mumbled, burrowing into their blankets despite the stale scent lingering from the moving van. Sleep came easy, though as she drifted, Cordelia couldn't shake the thought that they weren't alone; blonde curls making a quick appearance in her dreams.

00000

The weekend blew by, Monday clearing away the uncertainty that came along with moving and bringing the promise of a steady routine.

"I'm off Delia," Hank sped through the kitchen, snatching a cup of coffee on his way out to work, "I know you didn't have time to check out your office this weekend but you should today. It would be a great place for your plants." He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, Cordelia not quick enough to pull away. "See you tonight." With that, Hank was off. The door slamming shut behind him, echoing through the empty halls.

Cordelia sat at the counter, happy to finally be alone and idly stirring her tea as she mulled over the tasks for today. Most of the work had been done over the weekend but there were still things to put away, laundry to be done, and boxes to be moved. Laundry. She would start there, that's easy enough. Folding, washing and hanging laundry didn't require thought, she could deal with that.

The washer hummed as the second load of laundry started, clothes swishing around the machine as Cordelia grabbed a basket filled with clean sheets, ready to be hung out to dry. She pushed open the backdoor with her hip, cradling the basket as she walked over towards the line. She had to admit, the backyard was beautiful. Honestly, so far, everything about the house had been beautiful. She allowed her mind to wander, bubbling with optimism while she hung the sheets. Maybe things would work out, she and Hank could have plenty of kids; the house was certainly big enough. She turned back, reaching into the basket for one more sheet, nearly yelping as a figure approached through the back of the yard.

"Can I help you?" Cordelia smoothed over her blouse nervously.

"I'm Misty Day. I'm the housekeeper." The young woman walked with a certain confidence, hips swaying as she approached. She fingered a plant as she walked, admiring it's leaves.

"Oh," Cordelia stumbled, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, "I, uh, didn't know the place came with a house keeper." She smiled, completely taken back by the beauty of the young woman in front of her.

Misty twirled her finger's around the same plant, "Why are ya hanging your sheets?"

Cordelia stared dumbly at Misty, the woman's words seeming to go in one ear and out the other. She couldn't stop her wandering eyes, gazing at the skimpy maid's outfit Misty wore. Her stomach twisted; the longer she stared the more Misty looked like something from a dirty fantasy.

Misty smirked and coughed, drawing Cordelia's attention. "There's a perfectly good electric dryer inside."

The older woman blushed, embarrassed that Misty had caught her staring—though she wasn't necessarily doing so discreetly. "I don't like all the chemicals from the fabric softeners so I just like to hang the sheets and do it naturally." She offered weakly and turned to pat down a sheet, doing anything she could to peel her eyes away from Misty.

Cordelia's obvious anxiousness just served to fuel Misty's confidence, a flirtatious grin spreading across her face. "I work Monday through Thursday. Thanksgiving on, Christmas off."

"Uhm—"

Misty cut Cordelia off, "That was the deal with the last owner's."

"I'm sorry, I just don't think we are going to need a housekeeper. We don't have kids...yet." Cordelia found herself anxiously playing with her hands, looking anywhere except at the woman in front of her.

Misty quirked a brow and licked her lips, Cordelia's heart nearly stopping. "What are ya usin' to clean the floorboards?" She tilted her head, eyebrow still arched, an amused expression on her face.

"Roofies oil soap."

Misty scrunched her face letting out a laugh that was barely audible. "Oh no, no," she tsked, "White vinegar. Oil soap kills the wood." She crossed her arms and dropped her hip, oozing confidence as if the house was practically hers.

"Well I like that," Cordelia met back Misty's stare, suddenly irked by the younger woman's smugness, "It's more natural."

"Have ya ever owned a house this old before?" She gestured towards the house with her chin, "It has a personality, feelings. Mistreat it and ya will regret it." She let out a sigh, flicking back her hair absently, "Can I come in? My cab left and I need ta call another."

Every part of Cordelia screamed at her to say no, to turn this woman away, but she found herself grabbing the basket and holding open the door for her; eyes involuntarily sinking down to peer at Misty's swinging hips as the housekeeper walked in.

0000

Cordelia brewed a fresh kettle of tea, steadily pouring herself and Misty a cup despite the slight tremble in her hand. She couldn't calm her nerves and the younger woman seemed to feed off of it, purposely brushing their hands together and holding eye contact uncomfortably long. It didn't help that Misty was breathtaking; she had blue-green eyes that pierced Cordelia and wild, blonde curls that seemed to fall perfectly into place despite being untamed. Blonde Curls. Holy Shit. Cordelia thought back to the first night in their new home; the woman she saw in the window had to be Misty. Suddenly struck with fear, Cordelia struggled to make small talk. "So, you cleaned house for the couple before us?"

"I've been the house keeper here for years, they come, they go, I stay. The men before you were a nice gay couple," she stirred her tea, eyes flicking up to look at Cordelia, "Do ya know anyone that's...gay?" Misty had lowered her voice, husking the last part.

Cordelia nearly choked on her tea, "Uh, yea sure. Some friends back in my old town, It's uh, a completely natural thing." She stared down at her hands, unable to meet Misty's eyes. Once she felt heat rising in her cheeks, she quickly changed the subject, "So what happened with them, I mean I hate to gossip but..."

"They fought a lot." Misty shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. "If ya ask me it's because they didn't have sex enough," she stared at Cordelia, biting her lip, "but who can know when something so horrible happens."

Cordelia struggled to find something to say, anything, but the sight of Misty, smirking and chewing on her bottom lip, stole away her words. She stared at the younger woman's lips, unconsciously leaning forward. "Yea," she murmured, "It was really terrible." Her eyes flickered down, peaking at Misty's top and down the unbuttoned collar, getting a glimpse of the housekeepers chest. Her heart hammered against her ribs, mouth dry. She knew she should stop but she drifted even closer, leaning on her elbows towards Misty across the counter. The air grew thick with a silence that was suddenly shattered by the slamming of a door. "Hank!" Cordelia scrambled to create space between her and Misty, even though there was already an island of granite between them.

"Hey Delia, I forgot my paperwork. First day, can you believe— who's this?"

"Hank, this is Misty Day the housekeeper for the previous owners," she let out a breath, grateful for Hank's distraction. "Misty, this is Hank," she peered at Misty, almost not wanting to add the title of husband after Hank's introduction, "my husband." The word and the way Misty smirked left a sour taste in her mouth.

"Well, hey," Hank stuck out his hand for a shake, "Nice to meet you. Listen, I just dropped by to get my papers but it was a pleasure."

"Oh no worries, I think I heard my cab anyway. I'll be going. Do ya mind if I use the restroom before?" Misty shook Hanks hand again and shot Cordelia a dazzling smile.

Cordelia nodded and felt herself blush, waiting until she was certain Misty had left before speaking. "So," she drew circles on the counter with her finger, suprised at how easily she could breath now that Misty was gone,"What do you think?

Hank let out a little laugh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You, uh, wanna hire her?" He couldn't see why Cordelia would hire a woman who looked well over 60 to clean a giant house. How could that little old woman possibly clean the entire house by herself?

"Yea," she tried to shrug nonchalantly, knowing fully well she should send Misty away, "She, uh, knows the house really well. Plus, it's a big house I could use the help." Cordelia nearly laughed at her own bullshit. A primal piece of her knew why she wanted Misty to stay though she dared not to think about it, let alone say it out-loud. Hank didn't have time to reply, the echo of the bathroom door announcing Misty's arrival. Cordelia turned to face her, "So, can you start tomorrow?"

"Thursday's better," she pursed her lips, "But for you, I'll make it work."

If Cordelia had blinked, she would've missed Misty wink at her. She turned, afraid Hank had seen something but her husband was preoccupied,shuffling through his papers.

"Great," Hank smiled, "And Misty? You know you don't need to wear the housekeepers uniform. You can just wear your regular clothes."

The playfulness in Misty's eyes returned as they moved from Hank to Cordelia. "I don't like cleaning peoples houses in my own clothes." She smoothed over her coat, peering at Cordelia as she turned on her heels and sauntered out of the house.

0000

Cordelia awoke to an empty bed, excited that since Hank had to go into work early she would have the morning to herself until the housekeeper arrived to clean. Reluctantly, she slipped out of her bed, immediately missing the warmth of her blankets. Her muscles groaned as she walked towards the bathroom, still stiff with sleep. Normally, Cordelia showered at night but a hot shower sounded too good to pass up; the ache in her lower-back throbbing in agreement. She turned on the hot water, shedding her clothes when she heard the tell-tale creak of the floorboards down the hall. Fear seeped into her veins; She was supposed to be the only one home. Grabbing her razor out of the shower, Cordelia padded out of her room, looking around the empty halls. There were too many doors to search, there was no way she would find anyone. Just as Cordelia was about to chalk to sounds up to her imagination, she spotted something unusual; a door cracked open. It was a sliver barely wide enough to let light shine through but nonetheless, it was still open. She gripped the end of her razor, shuffling towards the open door and trying her best to stay silent. Her heart raced as she grabbed the handle and flung the door open. Her razor fell to the ground with a clatter as she stood paralyzed to the sight before her.

Misty sat in the empty room, laying back in a recliner, squirming and whining as she played with herself. Her legs were spread, resting on the arms of the chair, giving Cordelia the perfect view.

The older woman swallowed thickly unable to tear her eyes away. She watched, enthralled, as Misty's finger's teased. She was breathing heavily now, barely able to bite back a groan as Misty pushed aside her panties. God, she's so wet. Cordelia couldn't help but let out a little desperate whimper, dying to do more than watch.

Misty moaned, arching and grabbing onto the back of the chair to steady herself.

What felt like hours were really a matter of seconds and when Cordelia finally locked eyes with Misty, she blinked, breaking free from dreamy haze that had fallen over her. She tore herself away, sprinting back to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. "Oh god, oh god." Cordelia cradled her head in her hands, sliding down against the door. What the fuck, Cordelia!? By now, the bathroom was cloaked in a thick fog of steam, the shower continuing to spew out hot water. She got up off the floor and into the shower, seeking refuge under the spray of the shower-head. No matter how hard she tried, Cordelia couldn't get the image of Misty out of her head. She swore she could still hear her panting and whimpering. It was too much, her core was aching, crying out for release. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall as she snuck a hand between her legs. Her finger's worked quickly and within a matter of minutes she was trembling, whimpering softly as images of Misty danced behind her eyelids. Just the thought of the housekeeper sending her over the edge. The buzz of the shower easily drowned out her cries of pleasure and the cries of pain that soon followed after. Cordelia was weak and she knew it. Her shoulders shook with every sob as she cried, tears mingling with the water still falling overhead. She thought about giving in, going back to that room and taking Misty right on the couch, and she cried even harder. Tears ran down her face not because of what just happened but because she knew that next time, she would not be nearly as strong. It was only a matter of time before she gave into Misty.