A.N: Sorry this took so long, the story is going to be a bit longer than I first planned. Hope that's good news.


"I was promised tea", she reminded Sam, who chuckled and stepped away to prepare the kettle. Her sigh was almost inaudible, but Lara's ears did catch it, just barely.

Lara sat at the table, leaned back, and made herself cosy in her blanket. Her cheek still tingled; she was fighting a losing battle against her craving for more. She had very nearly given in to Sam, though she was certain she'd hidden that well enough. Despite her blush it had been a very comfortable, happy moment. Those were thoughts she wrestled with while she had a moment away from Sam's eyes.

The temptation to kiss her had been strong enough that she was still fighting it in her chair, but she had stopped herself short. It wasn't that she was afraid of being rejected, Lara had known about Sam's feelings for her almost as long as she'd had hers for Sam. The truth, as she saw it, was that Sam was important, and that gave her a power over Lara that others did not have. Sam could hurt her, even if she didn't mean to. And losing Sam...

That did it, by imagining herself losing Sam she'd successfully replaced the contented warmth that had cushioned her heart with an icy pang. Lovely.

"So. Lovely?", Lara started at the words. Sam had finished filling the kettle and crashed into her chair across from Lara without her having even noticed.

"Wot?" Lara stammered, accent deepening into something more Northern from a mixture of sickness and fatigue. Sam looked at her with concern and began to strum her fingers together haphazardly. Lara's face had paled but for her nose, for a moment it had been as if Sam could read her thoughts. Perhaps that wouldn't have been so bad.


Lara shook her head, and looked away from the bathroom mirror. She'd gotten lost in her memory of the night before. With a sigh she turned on the cold water to splash her face, and tried to ignore the feathered wings beating in her chest.

She set to work on brushing her hair. It wasn't the most mentally challenging, or even attention consuming task, but it helped. Before she'd managed ten strokes with her brush a tapping at the bathroom door took her attention. A courtesy knock from Sam. That was a new practice which her roomie had not picked up until a month prior. It was odd, Lara thought, how Sam's attraction to her had actually made her restrain herself. Odd, but sweet. Sam respected her.

"I'm decent!", she called through the thin, wooden barrier, and Sam entered in her shirt and pyjama bottoms not a second later. Her slender arms wrapped themselves around Lara from behind, hands latching over opposing wrists just beneath her bust. She could feel Sam blowing some hair out of the way as she set her chin on Lara's shoulder and snuggled in. That was more like it, she thought, and leaned her head against her friend's while setting down her brush. "Feeling affectionate, I see", she said while stroking Sam's arm just over her belly.

Sam exhaled slowly, drawing out the closeness before stepping away to speak. "What? A girl can't hug her bestie?" Lara turned to find Sam grinning; Sam was up to something. Lara leaned back on the sink, bracing herself with a hand on the corner and eyed Sam curiously.

"Sam...", she intoned with mock gravity, "what have you done this time?" Sam did her best to look indignant, but her eyes caught Lara's gaze and she froze. She came off looking more like a cat that had lost herself completely while watching someone dangle string before her nose. Lingering looks; another of Sam's new habits of about a month old, it might have been Lara's favourite.

Sam looked away first, and retreated behind her bangs, as if she had been shied by the shared eye contact. "All right, all right, so I miiight have, kind of, sort of... A little bit...", she wound her fingers together and picked at them nervously. Lara suspected Sam's confidence had taken a hit underneath the holly, and that beneath her fringe Sam had a flush colour to her. She wished she could see it.

"Samantha Nishimura!", she enunciated in her most posh rendition of the Queen's English. Sam lifted her chin, pushing back the veil of her hair and allowing her to meet Lara's eyes again, bottom lip held tightly between her teeth. They shared a smile. To Lara's satisfaction her friend was practically glowing pink, and wore it well. "Do tell me what it is that you have done, and be quick about it", she finished, eyes half lidded in a look that was half disciplinarian and half sultry.

"I... uh..." Sam stammered feebly, her rosy cheeks and white teeth on full display, "Christmas party?"

"A Christmas party?", Lara repeated, raising a hand to her forehead to brush aside a bit of stray hair. "I'm not feeling well, Sam."

"I know..." her voice hit a low note of disappointment, and she looked down at the floor again, seeming regretful, but lifted her eyes to look up at Lara. She wore an expertly subtle pout and the angle of her face forced her eyes to open wider than normal; Sam had mastered sad puppy. In a single expression she'd wiped the smug librarian clean off of Lara's face and out of her voice. "I just didn't want to go alone."
Bugger, Lara thought. She knew immediately she had lost, she had no answer to that. Sam had chosen her words too carefully, plucked at Lara's heartstrings and let them sing for her. "Fine", she ceded, and spread her arms to her sides. Sam sprang into the offered hug with enthusiasm, and nearly knocked Lara backward over the sink. She didn't mind so much, it was worth the feeling of Sam's face nestling into her shoulder. The way the sensation of her warm breath, and tickling eyelashes against her neck covered Lara's skin with tingling bumps and raised hairs. She kissed the top of Sam's head, and gently inhaled the scent of her hair. "You'll be the death of me, Sam", she said with quiet sternness. They separated, and shared another smile.

"It'll be worth it, though, right?" Lara rolled her eyes for Sam's benefit. She was supposed to be properly annoyed, the situation dictated she be annoyed. She wasn't. In truth she was happy. Relieved, as well. The idea of Sam partying without her, perhaps meeting someone, made her more nervous than she'd have liked to admit, even to herself.

"Twice over. Now, what have you gotten me into?", her arms folded across herself and she recomposed herself as the calm, rational, figure of authority that physical closeness to Sam so easily reminded her she wasn't.

"Friends", Sam told her while staring down at where he fingers fidgeted together. "And friends of friends. A keg, maybe?"

"A keg? For Christmas?" With a sigh Lara rested her forehead in her palm.
"I picked us up some rum and eggnog", Sam added innocently. When Lara dragged her hand down her face to glare at Sam between splayed fingers, Sam was grinning again.

"Sam...", she groaned, "you are lactose intolerant, remember?"

"And I kind of already bought a top I'd like you to wear...", Sam had clearly heard her but chosen to continue talking as if she might lose the will to broach the subject if she stopped.

"You realize drinking too much eggnog will make you sick?"

"I know you'd rather wear a tee..."

"Too much eggnog would make mesick, and I can actually produce lactase!"

"...but it'll look great on you, it's tasteful, and black, and, please?"

"That's rather sweet of you, but I'd rather we sort out where your head is. You are lactose intolerant, Sam."

Sam held her hands up defensively. "I know that, okay? I know you like it, though, and kind of hoped you'd forgot. I'll drink beer, whatever, but will you promise to try on the shirt I got you?" Lara wasn't sure why it was so important to Sam, but she sighed and nodded. Just like that, Sam had returned to her chipper self, yelling an emphatic "yes!", and pumping her fist.

"Settled, then, I wear the shirt", she had already accepted that she didn't have it in her to not wear something given to her as a gift, "...And you don't sicken yourself on holiday treats. Was it really so important we had to talk about this in the bathroom?"

"I, uh, also have to 'use the loo'", Sam said sheepishly.

Lara's lips shrunk into a small circle, "Oh.", she said. "Right, then", and she quickly disappeared through the door. She had made her escape from Sam's morning absurdity, but not the fluttering wings in her chest. Despite herself she wore an amused smile.

They ate breakfast together on the couch in relative silence. Small talk was had, but Lara had ensured Sam's near full attention would be taken by the breakfast she'd made. While not quite a 'full English', she'd managed to cobble together sausages, bacon, and some bread to fry, and serve with eggs. Which were, of course, also fried. And so, they spoke between grunts of 'mm', 'om', and variations of 'nom'.

The portions had been generous, and Sam was almost unable to finish her meal. She stared at the remaining food on her plate as though it were an exam for which she'd studied, and yet somehow forgotten the answers. It was her tasty, tasty nemesis, to be slain and conquered. Lara had done this to her by design. Sam on a full belly would take longer to recover her energy, which meant Lara got to spend a little while delaying the inevitable moment Sam dragged her from the couch to play dress-up. If Lara were being honest with herself, it had been worth it to watch Sam scarf her cooking with such obvious enjoyment. Sam's joy had always been infectious.

Lara's plan had just about done the trick; Sleepy Sam remained couch-bound and unable to enact her nefarious, party themed plans on her. She stayed with Sam on the couch, too. Lara had, in the end, been unable to avoid being caught in her own lethargy-inducing trap. They flipped on the television to fill the quiet, and Lara tugged Sam over by her arm until her head fell into Lara's lap.

She wove her fingers into Sam's hair and stroked her scalp with a lazy slowness that quieted her own mind, and seemed to put her friend into a trance. Together on the couch, recovering from the apocalyptic aftermath of a traditional English breakfast, they just happily melted into the cushions and one another. More than an hour disappeared that way before either of them stirred.

Lara had been somewhere in the limbo between sleep and consciousness when the shifting on her thighs began to pull her back to the surface. It was a slow process, more like floating than swimming, and there was no exact moment that awareness returned to her; rather it came in pieces. Sam awake. Sam's silky hair disappearing from beneath Lara's fingers as she rolled onto her back, and then onto her other side. Sam facing in toward Lara's stomach, and looking up at her. Sam's soft-eyed smile, and how she reached up to stroke Lara's cheek. The subtle twinkle in Sam's eye as with a single extended finger she touched the tip of Lara's nose with a barely breathed "boop". Beautiful Sam. Bit by bit those were the thoughts which put her waking mind back in order.

"Jesus, Lara", the head in her lap murmured, "you're like a super villain with a spatula. I can feel the years you've cost my lifespan." It felt like high praise.

"I think you'd spend them sleeping anyway", Lara yawned in reply, "fry up or not." Sam smirked back up at her, and sent her fingers to glide over Lara's cheekbone and guide some hair behind her pierced ear.

"I guess", she admitted, "but food comas don't help." Her reply had Lara chuckling, and shaking her head. Sam dragged herself from the couch to a standing position with a drawn out yawn and skyward stretch. Lara found herself wishing Sam would just come back and waste the day on the couch. With her.

She stretched in her seat, and straightened out her legs, measuring the soreness in her muscles before putting them to work supporting her weight. "Can you sort the dishes, Sam?", she hummed as she rose to her full height. Sam's response was a small nod, and to head straight for the kitchen. Lara watched her friend's back as she went, passing under the holly as she did. She sighed, but took the opportunity presented by her flatmate being temporarily busied and headed back to the wash. She could get in the first shower that morning, and she did so; she started the tap on cold.

After her shower she felt sharper. She had control of herself, her heart hadn't stopped beating its wings, but she had it caged. She managed to walk past the door to Sam's room without even turning her head to look inside. She told herself the shift of her eyes to one side was involuntary.

She dressed herself in her worn out white bathrobe, and tied it tightly to herself to fight the chill. Her bed looked warm, and inviting, but she'd just made it again after Sam had laid waste to it on her the night before. She hadn't minded that, it was sweet, but she didn't feel like unmaking and remaking it all over. Instead she settled for, carefully mind, laying herself out on top of the blankets, and picking up her laptop to busy herself while Sam took her turn in the shower. It would have been easy for her to close her eyes, and let her thoughts wander after Sam. Instead she turned on a Chelsea Wolfe play-list and pulled up a .pdf file titled Evidence for the Reality of Yamatai, Ackerman et al. It pleased her to have that sort of control over herself, and she felt better about not invading her friend's privacy; even if it was just in her thoughts.

Her studies relaxed her, drew her focus into them. It had always been effortless for her to lose her mind in new information, even dryly worded information that was doing its best to sound clinical and uninteresting. She had always preferred to be digging at something unknown than simply absorbing something established.

All focus and concentration was shattered when a weight crashed onto her bed and nearly bounced her onto the floor. She slapped her laptop shut, and shot Sam a glare. Her friend lay at the center of her freshly disarranged bed, and equally disarranged thoughts. In nothing but a white towel, Sam propped herself up with her weight on one elbow, and an arm across her chest to keep herself contained. She grinned at Lara cheekily, "sorry", she said, "it's warmer in your room."

"Then perhaps you shouldn't have laid immediate claim to the bedroom with the window?", Lara sighed while doing her best to look anywhere but at Sam. She regretted closing her laptop, she hadn't meant to do that, and it signalled that Sam had her full attention. It was true, but she hadn't wanted to broadcast it.

Doing her best to accept defeat with dignity she put the laptop back on her end table, and let her eyes fall on Sam. Not Sam's hips, legs, or shape. Her face, where her soft, pink lips were smiling with serenity at the chaos she'd caused. Lara's face felt warmer, not Sam's lips either, Sam's eyes. Eye contact. She quickly realized that if Sam remained so close and so nearly naked she'd be ruined for the night; she was out of excuses for cold showers. "Shall I fetch you something to wear, then?", she suggested half sarcastically, with a brow raised in amusement.

Sam tilted her head back and forth quickly as if she were seriously thinking on her answer. Her energy was back, and her eyes shone as they had that morning. Lara could feel herself becoming more concerned by the moment. "I'd like that", Sam decided, and bit her lip so briefly Lara nearly missed it. She added, "your shirt is in the bag on my bed." She was quickly carrying Lara from snarky to nervous.

"Er...", she began to form an excuse, but she couldn't get herself to actually deny Sam while she seemed so happy. Closing her eyes, and cursing herself mentally she ventured "What should I get for you to wear?", and carefully sat up to swing her legs over the edge of her bed while displaying as little of them as possible.

"Surprise me!" That had not been what Lara expected to hear. She collected her jaw from where it had fallen before she turned to regard Sam seriously.

"'Surprise you'?", she repeated with a hint of disbelief. It was always Sam surprising her, not the other way around, and she began to feel quite put on the spot.

Sam stuck her tongue out, and crossed her legs as she sat up. "You do know what looks good on me, and I trust you. So... Dress me." Lara could swear Sam's eyes were flirting with hers. Lara tried to avoid them and all it took was one look at the towel bravely fighting the losing war for Sam's modesty to send her right back to Sam's eyes.

She held her composure, and replied with a perfectly deadpan "I am not dressing you." She put her hands on her hips authoritatively and tried not to think that what Sam said had been sweet.

"I could just stay like this", Sam countered with a gesture to her small towel, and a mischievous grin. Lara opened her mouth to reply but closed it again. She could feel blood pumping to her face and quickly turned to keep Sam from seeing as much.

She hurried out of her room and across the hall into Sam's. When she opened the door it really was colder in there than in her own. It was uncomfortable, and she couldn't blame Sam for avoiding going inside while she was still wet from her shower. She looked around at Sam's messy bed and floor, and yet tidy desk, dresser, and night table. Between the two of them she was sure they could have kept at least one totally clean bedroom. Or an entirely messy one. She hummed at the uninvited thought and began to fidget. She'd been inside this room many times, but she'd never felt uneasy before.

She placed her hands over her face and drew in a deep breath. She told herself it was simple, it was nothing. It wasn't any different than doing Sam's laundry to steal back her t-shirts. Except that it felt very different. Sam expected something from her, and while it would be easy enough to dump slacks and a pullover in her flatmate's lap and let her sort it out, she didn't want to disappoint her. She could already imagine the bored, let down look Sam would give her if she didn't at least try. That would be worse than embarrassing herself. So, she shook her head and got to it.

First she spotted the small, unnecessarily fancy bag Sam had mentioned would be on her bed. She decided to pick it up last, and headed for Sam's closet. The door slid open and Lara was near immediately ready to give up, surely Sam would be bored waiting for her to sort through all of her things? Still, she began shifting hangers from side to side, and luckily enough something did catch her eye. A leather jacket she'd never actually seen Sam wear. Dusty brown with a raised, snap together collar, and neat, undecorated passants on the shoulders. Lara thought it looked sharp, and might keep Sam warm in the December cold, so she laid the jacket across her arm, and moved on.

Next up was a top. That was the easiest, she already knew exactly the one, it was just a matter of finding it. Sam had bought it herself on a shopping binge, after once again being disappointed she wouldn't get to see her father. It was black, had long sleeves,covered Sam's middle and her chest, and it fit her nicely. She dug through Sam's drawers until she found it folded and tucked away in a corner. She replaced the clothes as she'd found them, or in a neat simile thereof, and the top joined the jacket.

That left trousers and... Trousers, then. Trousers for the time being. The state of the floor suggested there might not be a fresh pair of those in the dresser, but Lara decided to try anyway. She rolled her eyes affectionately when she found pre-ripped jeans, a lot of them, in Sam's wardrobe. They looked sharp on Sam, sure, but she'd never understood paying extra for holes. It didn't take her long to find a suitable, and intact, set of lowrise denim slacks. Over her arm they went. Along with a shiny black belt that she'd spotted hung from Sam's bedframe.

So, Lara realized, began her trials. She opened the very top left drawer of the dresser and prayed for socks. Socks would have been easy; pick the colourful festive ones. Looking down into Sam's underwear drawer it did occur to her that 'colourful and festive' were still very real options. She pinched the bridge her nose with her free hand, and drew a slow breath to calm herself. She was beginning to feel as though she'd slipped up, been caught; like her choosing Sam's clothes was a trap, and she knew she couldn't just skip underclothes, it would only prove that they made her nervous.

She released the breath she'd been holding and leaned against the dresser. Christ, Lara, she thought, it's just some knickers. With that thought she gathered herself, and lifted the first pair her hand touched in the drawer. There, done. It had been easy.

But as she moved to close the drawer she felt doubt, and forced herself to actually look at them. Did they send the right message? Was she sending a message? Would Sam read a message into what she chose, even if she didn't send one? What if she'd by pure chance picked something too racy?

So, she looked at them. After a moment she folded and replaced the white cotton, having spotted a small pink bow on their front. She was most certainly not gift wrapping her best friend for Christmas. Anxiety was building by then. Did it matter? She wondered again if Sam would read anything into her choices at all. It didn't take her much thinking to decide that she would.

With a sigh she really looked into the drawer, she was relieved its contents were mostly colourful, cute, and comfortable. Feeling bolder than she had, she lifted another pair and chewed idly on the tip of her tongue as she judged them. They were grey, with a Snorlax on the front, and text reading "your path is blocked". She actually smiled at that. For Sam to have a Pokémon on her briefs was so absurd, so unexpected, that Lara thought it actually suited her.

She imagined Sam's raised brows as Lara dropped them into her lap with the other clothes she'd picked. Right on top. She could picture the way Sam's eyebrows would climb her forehead, and the aside glance that would match. She liked that, but she didn't like how her mind decided Sam might also take her choice to mean rejection. So, back into the drawer they went.

Picking up the third pair was easier, she noticed. She wasn't sure she liked that; getting comfortable with what she was doing felt illicit. It wasn't something she meant to allow herself, but, somewhere behind the anxiety she felt, there was also a thrill. Not ten minutes before she'd been patting herself on the back for her self control, and there she stood, excited by the idea of being the one person at the party that night who knew what Sam was wearing for knickers, and that she'd chosen them herself. The third pair went back in with the others, and Lara cursed herself for even considering red, no matter how plain.

Black or grey, it had to be something black or grey. Nice and neutral. A little bit of digging rewarded her with a pair of plain black boy shorts. Comfortable, practical, non-committal. They were perfect, and just a little bit sexy. Lara sighed in relief, and fetched a matching black bra, quickly as she could, along with the first pair of socks she saw. The less time she took the easier it would be to deny to Sam she'd put any thought at all into her choices. She still took another moment to breathe and compose herself before leaving Sam's bedroom, and walking back across the hall into her own.

Settled in the very middle of her formerly neatly made bed, Sam sat cocooned in Lara's sheet and blankets so thoroughly that her face was barely visible above the bunched together comforters. Of course, Sam had taken over her bed the instant she'd left. "I was cold." She gave a shake as if she were shivering, and offered Lara an innocent look.

Lara rolled her eyes dramatically, and climbed onto the bed to show Sam the clothes she'd picked out. Her expression was as neutral and casual as possible, and she had always had a strong poker face. Seeing Sam so relaxed and natural helped, it put Lara at ease. It also also helped that Sam was covered. She crossed her legs to set the small stack of clothes there, dropping the bag off the edge of her bed, and out of sight, hopefully out of mind.

The bag landed on a clean, white towel. Sam's towel. Lara's brow creased; that meant that underneath her bedding Sam was fully nude. As if her ordeal picking out clothes had not been enough. It had been Sam's plan all along to put Lara on her back foot, she realized. Up to that moment, it had worked.

Sam didn't seem to have noticed what she was looking at on the floor, so she chose, for the moment, to act like she hadn't seen Sam's towel on her floor, and she didn't know that underneath the blanket her best friend was completely starkers.

It was not an easy task, she felt her eyes drift down from Sam's own to where her shoulders and collarbone would be beneath the comforter. She bit her lip and immediately put her features back into place before her eyes could drift elsewhere. The blanket didn't matter, the thought of Sam was enough. She was filled with the same illicit feeling she'd experienced in Sam's room.

She broke her silence only a few moments after she had decided to keep it. "You are incorrigible", she blurted as the tips of her ears caught fire, "completely beyond help!"

"I've been found out, huh?", she asked while leaning forward with a smug grin. With Sam slowly invading her personal space, the fire at the tips of Lara's ears spread rapidly to her nose and cheeks. Knowing Sam's designs strengthened her resolve to keep the upper hand.

"You have", she confirmed as boldly as she could muster, and she gave Sam's shoulder a playful shove. She was glad her tone had been soft; Sam looked worried she'd overstepped her welcome. Lara reached out to where she knew Sam's hand was hidden, and squeezed it with practiced gentleness. Sam's smug look returned, and she resumed her forward posture. Their foreheads touched, and Sam locked their gazes.

Knowing that Sam was doing her best to fluster her did nothing to actually stop the spreading flames. It was clear to Lara by that point that Sam was very aware of her feelings. It was a relieving thought, rather than an unnerving one, and she found herself grinning confidently at her flatmate. "I suppose I've been caught, as well?"

Sam nodded slowly, she ended the motion so that the space between them shrunk, and their noses brushed together. Lara closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax and enjoy the sensation. When she opened them again Sam was watching her with obvious affection; her pupils were wide as saucers and her brow settled gently over her eyes. Lara could feel her heart fluttering its wings again. Sam's gaze had begun to shift left to right as it had the night before. Lara knew what that meant, and she wanted Sam to finish leaning forward. Badly.

Instead, Lara stopped her by placing her hand on Sam's cheek and capturing her chocolate brown eyes with her own. "I can't", she said, and leaned further forward. She kissed Sam on her cheek. Sam's skin was warm, and soft, and when Lara pressed her lips to it she allowed the contact to linger longer than she had initially meant to. She drew herself back, matching her forehead to Sam's once again.

When Lara looked at her, Sam's lips were crossed between a pout and a sad smile. It was a bitter-sweet look, and her eyes hung low and sad. Sam's confidence had waned and Lara thought she looked very vulnerable, almost submissive.

"I can't, right now", Lara corrected herself. Sam looked hopeful at that, her smile brightened a shade, and she lifted her gaze again. She didn't ask Lara why, or when. There were no words Lara could find to tell Sam how much she appreciated that about her. Sam was adventurous, exploratory, but never pushy. In an odd thought Lara considered her to be like an archaeologist. She invaded Lara's personal space and her life without a second thought, but she never tried to break down any barrier that actually resisted her. Sam's invasion always preserved whatever part of Lara she was unearthing.

It made Lara feel silly to think in such terms, but it also gave her a comfortable happiness. She let herself fall onto her side on the bed, pulling Sam along with her. They arranged themselves into a close hug, with Sam's face buried in the front of Lara's bathrobe. "I love you, you know that, right?", she asked into the top of Sam's head. She raised her head to look thoughtfully at Lara, almost questioningly. In the end she gave a small nod, and the way the genuine smile on her lips reached all the way to her eyes made her seem quite beautiful to Lara just then. It struck Lara completely out of words. She stared back at Sam happily, completely lost in the feeling of feathered wings in her chest.