Millie held Jean's hands to assist her through the open window. After Jean was in the room Millie pulled Jean firm against her side, gripping her shoulder and caressing the shorter woman's head. "I was so worried." She whispered into Jean's ear. Stepping away, she put her hands around Jean's face, her thumbs stroking Jean's cheek, and kissed her. It was unplanned and meant to be brief, but just before Millie pulled away she felt Jean's lips shift, lining themselves up to return the kiss. Millie savored the pressure of Jean's lips for a second longer before breaking apart. It wouldn't do for Jean to think Millie was a pervert. She lightly squeezed the sides of Jean's neck, "Iris and Olivia are waiting." She turned to Hailey and noticed the confused look on the younger woman's face.
"Right, let's go." Hailey agreed, her eyes never meeting Millie's.
They hurriedly left the hotel, Millie holding Jean's arm the entire time. Entering Olivia's car, Millie pressed her hand to Jean's lower back to guide the woman into the back seat, then slid in next to her, putting her arm around Jean's shoulders and grasping her hand. Sitting next to Jean, clutching her, Millie dwelled on how close she was to losing her best friend. She blinked back the tears and held tight to Jean for the duration of the ride.
Once they were safely in Millie and Jean's apartment Iris and Hailey spoke quietly to each other while sitting on the green couch. Millie sat on the white couch, staring at the wall, absentmindedly smoking a cigarette. She knew for certain that Jean's brush with death terrified her, even more than waking up in an unknown location held captive by a Maltese mafia. She couldn't lose Jean.
The cigarette being removed from her fingers startled her. "You're thinking too hard." Jean remarked as she stabbed the burning cigarette into the ashtray.
Millie gave a small smile. "How was your bath?"
"I feel much better."
Millie turned her body toward Jean, tucking a foot under her thigh, her knee brushing Jean's leg. She leaned over to the side table to reach the jar of ointment then tenderly picked up Jean's wrist, placing it on her lap. She listened to the conversation of the three women around her as she dabbed the ointment on Jean's wrist. When she finished she didn't let go immediately, wishing she could hold it forever. With a distressed smile, she finally released it. Jean let it drop onto Millie's bare knee, her index finger twitching against the skin.
Careful to not move her knee, Millie placed the jar back on the table. Looking up she noticed Hailey's gaze on Jean's hand. The slow retraction of the hand told Millie that Jean must have noticed as well.
Millie was grateful when the conversation turned to the note Jean snatched from the hotel room. Translating the note, understanding the cipher, and finding the location of the airport kept her busy enough that she was unable to think of touching Jean. The desire was stronger now, driven by a fear that Jean would disappear again if Millie wasn't physically confirming her presence at all times.
That fear grew as Jean sat in the front seat of Olivia's car on the ride to the airport. Millie wanted Jean near so that she could feel her hand, her arm, her entire presence. Reining in her concern by acknowledging that it was becoming unhealthy, Millie tried to appreciate the forced space. She convinced herself that the distance was necessary, both to curb her nearly obsessive desires, and to avoid annoying Jean before the outspoken woman grew tired of Millie's clingy behavior.
The personal space resolve lasted until they were seated at the Big Bop, drinking Archie's best scotch. Millie contributed to the conversation with Iris, but her eyes kept drifting to Jean and Hailey huddled together at the bar. Her insides twisted when she saw Jean put a hand on Hailey's shoulder, and didn't relax until Jean moved away from the bar and sat next to Millie at the table.
"Come here you old bag." Millie exclaimed, pulling Jean into a hug, the comment meant to deflect from her shaky voice. She rested her forehead against Jeans, whispering, "I've never been so scared."
Jean snorted, "You were abducted by human traffickers. You're being dramatic."
"It wasn't the same." Millie sat back in her chair, a smile plastered on her face. She took a drink of scotch to calm her nerves. Burying her emotions, she forced herself to make a joke, "That'll teach you to let your bun down, Jean."
"Or to chase some raving vagabond halfway across the world." Jean retorted.
Millie laughed with everyone and made a return comment to keep the conversation flowing. She spent the rest of the evening outwardly enjoying herself. However, her mind couldn't turn off the voice echoing Jean's comment about chasing her. It could have simply been a joke, and likely was. Or, as Millie hoped, it could have been Jean's subtle way of admitting that she followed Millie out of desire.
The walk home was quiet. Jean had looped her arm through Millie's not long after leaving the club. Millie walked slow, enjoying the pressure of Jean's arm against hers. Every few minutes she would think about the softness of Jean's lips and have to push away the urge to kiss her again.
Entering their apartment Millie announced that she was going to bed. She claimed it was due to exhaustion, unwilling to admit that she needed to sort her feelings.
Jean responded that it sounded like a fine idea, moving toward her room. With one hand on the door, she turned back to Millie, "Hailey..." She pursed her lips together, "What do you think of Hailey?"
Millie raised an eyebrow, "I like her. Why?"
Jean tapped her fingers together in front of her waist, a sign of discomfort, "I mean about her personal choices."
The raised eyebrow lowered into a furrow as Millie squinted her eyes, "I don't think it's a choice, Jean."
"You're right." Jean put her hand back on the doorknob, "Goodnight."
Millie waited until Jean had entered her room before entering her own. The twisting feeling had returned to her stomach and now she recognized it as jealousy. As she prepared for bed she told herself that she was overreacting. Not only had Jean failed to indicate that she was interested in Hailey, she had given no indication that she was interested in women at all.
That thought struck Millie in the heart, causing her to laugh out loud at her foolishness. How ridiculous could she possibly be? She didn't even know if Jean liked women! In fact, Jean's question about Hailey could have been disapproval. What if Jean found out about Millie's feelings and returned to England in disgust?
Once her face was pressed into her pillow Millie allowed her tears to fall. First Susan, now Jean. When would she stop falling for unattainable women? Millie cried until she had nothing left.