"I couldn't sleep." Jean pushed her teacup away.
"Neither could I." Millie joined Jean at the table. "Do you have dreams?"
Jean nodded.
"Me too. Lucy with that creep on the train. The white door and that girl's body. Shooting Crowley. Jasper's blood. Marta's trafficking operation." Millie placed her hand on Jean's forearm, "You being shot." She took a breath, "You tied to that chair over those sheets."
"Sounds like mine. There's been so much death." Jean spoke in a measured voice.
Millie pulled Jean into a hug. "I never should have dragged you here." Millie leaned back, ran her thumb over the bruise on Jean's temple, and twisted her mouth in disdain.
"I'm where I want to be." Jean assured the younger woman.
Millie flattened her hand around the side of Jean's head, her thumb still resting next to the bruise, and pulled Jean's head toward her, softly pressing her lips to the bruise. The intimate gesture was risky but Millie was too tired to fight off her feelings.
"Why is your face puffy?" Jean asked after Millie pulled away.
Rising to her feet, Millie spoke, "I haven't been getting my beauty rest." She attempted to smile, but her heart wasn't in it, "I think it's time we try to sleep."
Without a response, Jean pushed herself up from the table. She studied Millie's face, perhaps seeing through her weak facade. Millie panicked internally, making it difficult to keep her face neutral. Whatever Jean saw she chose to keep to herself. She silently picked up her teacup, placed it in the sink, told Millie goodnight, and went into her room. Confused by Jean's conduct, and slightly worried that their friendship was derailing, Millie returned to her room.
The diner was unusually busy the next day. Millie to struggled to make it through her shift, her tired body and tumultuous emotions contributing to her agitated mood. She wanted to be resting on the couch watching Jean knit, not serving coffee and pie in a hot, noisy diner.
Calling home before leaving had become a requirement at Jean's insistence. She made it clear that she fretted over Millie walking home in the dark. Millie understood the fear and secretly she enjoyed the routine. There was something calming about hearing Jean's brisk voice over the phone. Tonight however, she could hear the fatigue in the Scottish woman's voice when she answered. Millie knew Jean would wait up for her, so she promised to be home as fast as she could. They both needed to sleep.
Jean was sitting on the couch holding a book when Millie walked in. She was already in her nightclothes, which was unusual for someone as buttoned-up as Jean. Despite living together for a few months Millie had never seen Jean in her pajamas. Clearly, the lack of sleep was affecting her concern for proprietary.
"Are you really reading?" Millie asked as she put down her purse.
Jean shook her head and placed the book aside.
"You're tired." Millie said, "You didn't have to wait."
"We've discussed this." Jean said firmly, in opposition to her scratchy, sleepy voice.
Millie smiled softly, "So we have. Thank you for waiting."
Jean stood and softly squeezed Millie's arm, "Do you want some tea?"
Jean's offer made Millie's heart swell with affection. Here was Jean nearly falling over with exhaustion and she still thought of Millie first. The affection quickly turned to disappointment in herself. She knew better than to get her hopes up.
"No, I'm going to bed. So should you."
Jean nodded, squeezed Millie's arm again, and went to her room. Millie went through the motions for bed with her mind on Jean. After Jean's comment about Hailey she believed that any hope of a relationship was in vain. She was a best friend to Jean, nothing more. Knowing that didn't stop her heart from wishing Jean felt differently.
Walking out of the bathroom she heard Jean cry out. "Jean?" She called, tapping on the bedroom door. Not receiving a response she tapped again and went in. "Jean?"
Jean abruptly sat up, frightened. "Oh, it's you."
"What were you dreaming about?" Millie sat on the edge of the bed.
"The hotel."
Millie rubbed Jean's arm. Jean laid back down, "I'm sorry for keeping you up. You don't need to stay."
"Just another minute." Millie yawned, and laid down on top of the blanket, "Are you okay?"
"Um-hmm." Jean tugged on the blanket until Millie moved underneath it. She pulled it up to Millie's shoulders. Millie was instantly wide awake. Did Jean want her to stay? Her thoughts began the familiar circle of deciphering Jean's intentions.
"Millie, are you asleep?" Jean asked after several minutes of silence.
"No."
"Yesterday, about Hailey," Jean sat up, placing her back against the pillows, "She told me she's in love with me."
Millie sat up as well, thankful that the darkness covered her shocked expression. She didn't respond for a few seconds, her heart needing the time to start beating again, then asked, "Do you love her?"
"Not the way she wants."
"But it's bothering you."
"I just can't understand it. I'm much too old for her. What could she possibly see in me?"
"There's a lot to see in you! You're intelligent, beautiful. You're bloody amazing."
"I hardly think Hailey considers me beautiful."
Millie shifted so that she could see Jean, "Don't sell yourself short. You are beautiful." She stroked Jean's hair, moving it away from her face.
Jean continued to stare straight ahead, not looking at Millie. "I don't want to hurt her, but I'm afraid it's inevitable. I don't feel the same. I have to tell her."
"It will be hard, but she'll bounce back. You're a good person, Jean. She'll know that you mean the best for her."
"What would you do?"
"Let her down gently." Millie looked at her hands and picked at the blanket, "Since we're sharing...I kissed Bill."
She heard Jean's sharp intake of breath, "I knew you two were a good match." She sounded flat, unhappy.
"Maybe. He isn't what I want though." Millie grabbed Jean's hand, "We're a mess. Let's sleep." She slid back down, pulling Jean with her. Jean remained on her back, so Millie curled up into the woman's side, tucking an arm around Jean's waist. "You know it's your own fault that Hailey feels the way she does." Millie stated, her breath moving across Jean's shoulder.
"How?" Jean asked in disbelief.
"You went swimming in your knickers with her. Poor girl never stood a chance." Millie's tone was light, joking.
Jean chuckled. Millie tightened her arm around Jean and closed her eyes.
Work was better the next day. She had slept well, and was floating from Jean's laugh. At home that evening she spent some time drinking tea and talking with Jean. They wrote letters to Lucy and Alice, leaving out the terrifying details of Jean's abduction. Jean suggested writing to Susan, but Millie declined. Jean gave her a questioning look but didn't pursue it. Millie appreciated her for that.
At bedtime, Jean fiddled with a pencil on the table. Millie watched her with curiosity. Jean was a thinker, but she wasn't a pencil tapper.
"What's the matter? It's unlike you to dawdle."
"I uh, I slept better with you there." Jean tapped the pencil again, keeping her gaze on it as the eraser hit the table.
Millie smiled teasingly, "Jean McBrian, are you asking me to share your bed?"
Jean blushed, "Of course not."
Millie rubbed Jean's arm, "Give me a minute to change."
Jean immediately appeared relieved. As Millie quickly put on her nightgown she heard Jean's movements in the bathroom. Millie waited for her to exit before going in to brushed her teeth and wash her face. Entering Jean's room she found her already in bed, nervously twisting a corner of the blanket. Millie smiled as she turned out the light, then moved into the bed. Without a word, the women resumed their position from the night before, Jean on her back with Millie pressed against her.
"Are you alright?" Millie softly asked.
Jean nodded.
"Am I too clingy?"
"No."
Millie readjusted herself, gripping Jean's hip, and pressing her knee on top of Jean's thigh, careful to avoid the bullet wound. She knew she was pushing the bounds of friendship, but decided that Jean would say something if she were uncomfortable. Until then Millie was going to enjoy the moment. Cuddling with Jean gave her a spark of courage to ask a question she'd been restraining, "Jean?"
"Hmm?"
Millie pressed a kiss to Jean's shoulder, something she didn't plan to do and was slightly embarrassed about after, "When we talked about Hailey I wanted to know something."
Jean laid a hand on top of Millie's bicep, "You've never been scared to ask."
"It may be outside of decency."
"I think we've long left decency, dear."
Millie sighed, the bravery slowly leaking away, "All those reasons Hailey can't love you, was one of them that you're not interested in women?" Millie could feel Jean's body tense, "Do you like women?" Millie pushed herself up on her elbow so she could see Jean's face, but was unable to read the expression on it. Concerned that she had gone too far, Millie continued, "Susan and I...did you know?"
"I suspected." Jean's voice didn't have her usual calmness. Rather, it was tinged with uncertainty. "I do."
Millie accepted the answer. She laid back down, ensuring that she was snuggled as close as before. She didn't want Jean to feel rejected because of her admission, but mainly she just wanted to savor the feel of Jean against her body. Millie waited for Jean's breathing to even in sleep, then waited a few minutes longer to be sure, before whispering, "I love you." She felt her heart squeeze in her chest, immediately certain that it was true.