Extending that final scene in 3x01. Little belongs to me beyond metaphor.
"I should leave…" Slowly, Tina's gaze met Bette's, looking deep into those impossibly pretty eyes.
Bette knew that look. She knew that tone of voice—knew the need behind it. This was different than with Pippa, or with Felicity, or even than with Jodi, back in the day. With Tina—the woman with whom she'd been in love for her entire adult life, even during the times that she wouldn't admit it—there was a shorthand between them and had been for years. And—just like how, when Tina had bid ten-thousand dollars on her beloved Kiki Smith print, Bette had recognized that act was a grand gesture of love—she recognized now that Tina was standing in front of her, begging her for a reason to stay.
And Bette was prepared to give her that reason. Gingerly, she reached for a soft pair of hands and brought them up to her lips. Her eyes were fixed to Tina's, tracking her every reaction. She pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her left hand, then her right, watched the way Tina's breath hitched.
As Bette's warm breath washed against her skin, Tina watched her, transfixed. Bette was the only person who had ever touched her like this—with so much reverence. Then, reclaiming her hands, she began to close the remaining space between them, needing to feel that perfect mouth on hers.
Meeting her in the middle, Bette shuddered involuntarily when their lips met. She had wanted this for so long. And, feeling pink lips curl up into a smile against hers, she knew that Tina had, too.
A moment later, they pulled back to breathe, foreheads resting together, noses brushing, still reveling in the taste of each other.
"Hello," Bette breathed.
"Hi," Tina exhaled, her voice impossibly sweet. Her own smile widened. She wanted to laugh. Or to cry. Or to break out in song. She had fantasized about this moment for so long and, somehow, the moment had come—and it was even better than she ever could have imagined.
And then, immediately, their hands were on each other. Tina caressed Bette's upper arm, brushed back her hair. Bette cradled Tina's cheek, fingers tracing the line of her jaw.
The moment's significance wasn't lost on either woman. Both hoped—and felt—that this would be their last "first kiss." With each other. With anyone. They were coming back together—and, this time, forever. They felt the gravity of the kiss and responded to that gravity with a slow kind of tenderness, re-exploring each other with quiet care, despite the thrum in the pits of their abdomens begging them to move faster, aching to rub rhythmically against each other, bodies sheened in sweat.
Bette was happy to move slow but, unable to deny her desire entirely, she pulled Tina's face to hers again, and Tina eagerly reciprocated. As their lips pressed together a second time, they were instantly breathless, and Tina squeezed Bette's arm, hand running down her back, pulling Bette into her, wanting to relearn her every groove and curve.
As Tina pressed against the small of Bette's back, forcing their bodies closer together, they heard the front door open and shut—and then there was Angie, catching them in the act.
Angie's mouth fell open. "You gotta be fucking kidding me." And then, not wanting to stick around a second longer, she ran up the stairs two at a time—leaving her moms alone in the living room, flummoxed and facing emotional whiplash at the change of events.
Upstairs, a door slammed, and they both jumped a little.
Their limbs fully renegotiated—feeling instantly cold, now that they weren't touching each other—Bette and Tina's eyes met and, wordlessly, they came to mutual decision, hurrying up the stairs after their daughter.
"Angie?" Bette tried for the knob only to find the door locked. She rapped her knuckles against the wood. "Angie? What's going on? Why aren't you at school?"
"Go away!" Angie cried, her face buried in her pillow.
Unsure what to do, Bette's brows furrowed. Wanting to reassure her, Tina reached for her hand.
Hazel eyes focused on the locked door as she tried a different approach. "Sweetie?"
Angie didn't answer.
"Honey," Tina continued, "we understand that you might not want to talk to your moms about what you're going through—and that's okay. Do you want us to give Jordi a call for you, or—" She cut herself off mid-sentence, coming to a sudden realization.
Bette's eyebrows knit together, her expression confused. "What is it?"
Tina pursed her lips, listening to the quiet on the other side of the door—trying to determine whether or not she was imagining the sound of footsteps walking toward them.
A second later, Angie opened the door. She looked at the floor, her voice quavering. "She broke up with me."
"Oh…" Bette exhaled, the word drenched in empathy.
"Oh, honey," Tina sighed simultaneously, her arms instinctually opening.
Angie collapsed into them—and into Bette's—and the three of them stood there, holding each other in the darkened hallway, both women working together to care for the person they loved most.
Finally, Angie pulled back, rubbing at her swollen eyes.
Bette wiped a tear from her daughter's cheek. "I'm so sorry."
Angie shook her head. "No—I'm sorry. For walking in like that." She paused for a moment, thinking back to what exactly she had walked in on. On any other day, the sight—or, well, at least what it signaled—would have made her jump for joy. Didn't every child of divorced parents wish that, somehow, they would find their way back together?
She shrugged hopelessly. "I'm just sad."
Tina offered her a kind smile. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she promised. "This is your home. You're always safe to express yourself here, and to know that Mom and I love you unconditionally."
"And we're here for you," Bette added, brushing a coiled curl behind her ear. "To talk or just to listen. I hope you know that."
"Thanks." Angie's lip quirked up. "I think I'm just going to sleep here tonight, if that's okay."
Bette's loving eyes caressed Angie's face. "Of course."
Then, sensing their daughter wanted her space, Bette and Tina turned away, taking a step back into the hall.
"Mom?"
They both turned back, silently relieved that the night wasn't over yet—dreading Tina going back to her place after their earlier revelations.
Angie bit her lip. "Can you guys actually…stay with me for a few minutes?"
For the next hour, the three lay in Angie's twin bed—the teenager under the blankets, Tina and Bette on top, flanking either side of her, caressing arm and cheek until she fell asleep.
Tina listened to her slow and steady breathing. "I think she's out."
Bette nodded. Her eyes met Tina's as her lip quirked up, her expression difficult to read.
Tina looked back, her expression curious. "What?"
"It's so late. Do you want to, maybe, stay the night?"
Before Tina could answer, Bette quickly added, "I have spare pajamas and a new toothbrush—and I could make up the bed in the guest room, if you want."
Tina did not want to sleep in the guest room. But, not wanting to overstep, she asked, "Do you want me to sleep in the guest room?"
Bette's answering smile was shy. "Not really."
Tina smiled back, glad to know they were on the same page—that they both ached for each other. And, even though she knew nothing overtly sexual would take place that night—not with Angie there, and so badly needing them—the thought of sharing a bed with Bette again thrilled her to her core. "Okay."
Half an hour later, Tina stood in the bedroom doorway, watching as Bette meticulously untucked the sheets, fluffed the pillows on what had always been her side of the bed. It was August, and still warm out, and the brunette had opted to sleep in a pair of shorts and a matching tank top, skin especially bronzed in the yellowed lamplight.
Tina's eyes ran down her long legs, picturing them wrapped tight around her. She was reminded—as she often was—that wanting each other had never been a problem for them. Even during the most difficult periods of their relationship, they had always felt an overwhelming mutual attraction.
Bette looked up, noticing Tina as she plodded into the room. "Hey," she exhaled, voice breathy, overcome by just how beautiful the blonde was in her natural state—barefoot, no make up, hair pushed back behind her ears. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to refocus. "Do you…need anything else?"
Tina shook her head. "Thank you."
They tucked themselves under the blankets on their respective sides—a few feet of empty space between them—and Bette clicked off the lamp on her bedside table.
Simultaneously, each woman turned onto her side, facing the other.
"Do you think Angie's okay?" Bette asked, her voice a whisper in the darkened house.
Tina made a face. "No. I mean, of course she will be eventually, but…" She paused, her expression wistful. "You and I know better than anyone how hard it is not to be with the person you love."
Eyes never straying from Tina's, Bette dropped her hand into the space between their pillows—inviting Tina, if she wanted to, to do take it in hers.
Tina scooted closer, her right hand coming up to rest over Bette's left, lightly tracing the contours of her fingers, as she had so many times before.
Bette smiled, feeling giddy again, in spite of herself. She felt a pinch behind her eyes. "One of the best days of my life."
Tina looked deep into her eyes, butterflies taking flight in her abdomen. It had only ever been like this with Bette. Careful to keep her movements small—not wanting either of them to get carried away—she leaned in closer, closer, their lips a hair's breadth away.
Bette closed the remaining distance, capturing a pink bottom lip between hers.
Tina's breath shuddered out, her hand coming up to grasp the nape of Bette's neck, to run over her shoulder, down her chest.
Over the duvet—her touch gentle, cautious—Bette's hand rested on Tina's soft waist, relearning her curves.
As they caught their breaths, Tina brushed a curl behind Bette's ear. "I love you."
Bette's lip quirked up. "I know. And I love you."
Tina grinned back. "I know."
They were quiet for a long moment, happy to just feast their eyes on each other—to let their guards down with each other, for the first time in so long.
Tina yawned. "Should we sleep?"
Bette nodded—and there was no hesitation, no question, as they both worked to close to the distance between them, desperate to maintain a physical connection.
Tina wrapped her arms around Bette's back, and Bette immediately braided their legs, her abdomen lurching at the sound of Tina's responding quiet groan.
Bette ducked her head into the crook of Tina's neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin.
Tina buried a hand beneath Bette's top, tracing the line of her spine, her heart accelerating at Bette's answering gasp.
She pressed her lips to Bette's cheek—one final kiss for the evening. "Goodnight."
Bette's lips puckered against soft blonde hair. "Goodnight."
Bette & Tina remind me so much of Callie & Arizona, so their reconciliation is bringing me so much joy right now. Thanks for reading my first non-Calzona fic. Hope you're all doing well & staying safe out there.