The clock on the DVR glared menacingly at her from across the living room. 7:44 turned into 7:45. The mere passage of one minute of time attempted to threaten her bliss with its repeated warning of potential tardiness, especially with the freeway packed with traffic by now. She'd certainly be late for work at this rate but as Carol lazily kissed her way up her sweat-dampened stomach, she really couldn't care less. (How very unlike her, if she was honest.) With a hum of utter contentment, she sank further into the sofa cushions and waited. She could taste herself on Carol's lips when the other woman eventually settled down beside her and her body quivered with anticipation again. Make-up sex was always 400 times better than any other kind and they'd barely stopped making up since last night.
"C'mere," she groaned lazily, pulling Carol into her arms as they lay naked in the early morning sunshine. "Lunch is definitely on me."
Carol let out a breathy laugh and curled in just slightly tighter. "I think I can for sure work that into my schedule."
7:48. Fuck. Oh well, two more minutes wasn't going to really make much of a difference. Probably. The silence was comfortable as her breathing began to slowly even out. The warmth of the body squished up next to hers was soothing and the way Carol was gentling tracing circles along her forearm was absolute bliss. All she could smell was sex, a whiff of pomegranate shampoo, and cheap snowberry moisturizer. Glancing down, she saw Carol in a similarly sated and lethargic state, breathing deep and evenly. Goosebumps rose along the younger woman's shoulders in the crispness of the AC. Sure, sex was amazing but there was something about this, the quiet peace of the aftermath, that Helen appreciated even more and it was a rare opportunity to see Carol stripped of her usual neurotic, overwrought nicety.
"So," she started softly, shifting a bit on the sofa. "I guess it'd be too soon to ask you to marry me, huh, Scrunchie?"
Carol's eyes went wide in fear and her body felt suddenly like a plywood board. She was way too easy to rile up. Helen thought she could literally see hives breaking out across her neck and shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. And then, after she figured she'd teased her enough, Helen laughed at the reaction until Carol's body relaxed again with a nervous giggle.
"Oh my god, you're the worst," Carol grumbled but a reluctant smile belayed her true feelings.
Helen grinned and cocked her head to the side. "I am what I am." Thankfully, she could feel Carol's heartbeat slowing against her skin. "And what I am is in need of a date, by the way."
"Oh?"
It was cute how obvious Carol was when she was pretending not to be expecting something. Helen couldn't help herself from stroking a hand through the short hair in front of her. Another whiff of pomegranate drifted up to her nose. "Yeah, how do you feel about New York?"
Carol propped herself up to look at Helen directly, eyes twinkling and a smile pulling at her lips. "You want to take me to the upfronts?" She appeared to be almost tearing up.
"Yes," she laughed. "And not just in a business capacity, just so we're clear. I want to walk the carpet with you, sit beside you, schmooze the ad execs, drag my ass through the godawful after-parties with you next to me and then sneak out early to crash at in the same hotel suite in the same bed. And, obviously, I need you in the meetings. I'm letting you know what I expect now. So be honest, is that something you can do?" She was trying this honest communication thing with baby-steps and could only hope Carol would follow suit.
There was a hard swallow from the younger woman and she seemed to hesitate for a moment. It could be seen as a rather big step since absolutely everyone in the industry would be there. But on the other hand, no one was really paying that much attention to anyone but the big spenders and the talent. And Helen knew none of Carol's other bosses had ever taken her, not as a date anyway. Of course she'd run into Carol numerous times over the years at upfronts—complete with their awkward hugs. She couldn't wait to show off to her colleagues. (Carol's reputation obviously had preceded her in many regards but Helen couldn't imagine being more excited to introduce anyone else as her partner.) It had been too many years of watching from the sidelines at all the fake smiles, stilted embraces, and unhappy marriages on display, much like she participated in once. Now she had something real and she wanted to show the entire world how beautiful she was. And, yeah, there was a little bit of rubbing her good fortune in everyone else's faces, especially fucking Merc Lapidus. He had his chance.
She hadn't known she was actually trembling until Carol reached out and took her hand, interlocking their fingers and giving a brief squeeze. It was oddly soothing considering Carol was normally the one on the precipice of a breakdown. "I think I can handle that."
"You sure? Be honest."
"When am I not?" she asked, her voice going back up in pitch.
Helen scoffed loudly. "Stop. Seriously, tell me." She wanted it more than anything in a long time, but was wrapping her head around the possibility of it not happening. Carol's reticence to give a solid answer certainly wasn't encouraging.
Blue eyes glanced down at their joined hands and Helen cursed her body's betrayal of how much she really fucking wanted this. A glint of concern seemed to pass over Carol's face and she smiled, not quite in pity but more in recognition. "Yeah, totally. I can do it. I've never been anyone's date to one of these big things before." Again, her voice caught a little in her throat, thick with some emotion Helen wasn't entirely capable of placing.
"Well, hopefully we'll continue this pattern of giving you firsts." It hadn't meant to be dirty but she watched the flush of Carol's cheeks all the same, no doubt recalling some of the more pleasurable firsts they'd experienced.
Recovering after a moment, Carol sighed, "I'd like that."
"Good. And thank you," Helen muttered, grateful that she didn't have to beg or face the embarrassment of rejection. She could feel her nerves thrumming excitedly about New York already. She'd given enough presentations and participated in enough upfronts to know the drill but it was the idea of holding Carol's hand walking into the venue that sent her heart into a frenzied beat. The network prexy and the director of programming: power couple, a force to be reckoned with. She shivered, not entirely from the cold.
The clock mocked her with the green glow of 8:00 suddenly. "Anyway, as much as I'd love to lie here all day discussing all the firsts I've yet to give you, I am going to be officially and disastrously late for work."
Carol rolled off and shooed her away. "Go, go then. Big day." Grabbing the throw from behind them, Helen draped herself in a makeshift toga, tossing Carol the t-shirt from earlier.
Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss on her lips, reveling in the natural, comfortable feeling of the action. "See you soon, honey."
"Soon," Carol agreed with surprisingly solemnness, and it sounded like a much more resolute promise then merely a confirmation of a lunch date.
That was better than never. Yes, Helen Basch could do 'soon'. She could do soon for the rest of her life.