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Summary: Day 14ish in Canada

Two weeks into Bette and Tina's time together in Canada—and sixteen days after finding their way back to one another—they finally were getting into the swing of their new lives.

As usual, both women were busy with their respective jobs but, unlike in past years, they nevertheless worked to prioritize each other.

Tina looked up from her book and smiled as she watched Bette walk toward the opposite side of the bed. "You tired?" It had been a busy day for them both—she'd spent twelve hours on set, and Bette had spent the day touring local galleries and museums, dealing with curators vying for her attention.

Silently, Bette nodded and proved just how tired she was by collapsing onto the bed. She buried herself under the covers and, like a cat, curled up beside the blonde, eager to feel her warmth.

Tina laughed at the brunette's comically exhausted state. She brought her hand down, running her fingers through soft brown curls.

"Mmm," Bette moaned contently as her eyes fell shut in relaxation. "Yes. So good. Keep doing that." She burrowed her head into Tina's lap, insisting on more contact.

Endeared, Tina smiled as she refocused on her book, her nimble fingers continued stroking through hair, rubbing the nape of a smooth neck, and affectionately scratching a strong trapezius.

"Can we play hooky tomorrow?" Bette suggested jokingly. "The only times I've really seen you this past week have been in bed."

Tina craned her neck to meet Bette's eye. "And you're complaining?" she teased.

Bette rolled her eyes. "We've been sleeping! We've been too tired to even talk to each other, much less do anything else!"

"I know," Tina lamented, her fingers stopping their gentle rhythm and resting on Bette's back, instead. "We could talk now," she suggested.

Bette shook her head. "We're sleepy. Whereas tomorrow, we'll be full of energy." She cut her eyes toward Tina's face, eyebrow raised flirtatiously.

Tina laughed. "Bette Porter, you know that I am all for a day spent alone in bed with you, but I'd rather save my sick days for a honeymoon." She clicked off her bedside lamp.

Bette lifted her head from the blonde's lap, and Tina lay down, turning on her side to face the brunette.

"A honeymoon?" Bette pressed, trying to bite back her sudden grin. "Are you proposing to me?" She felt her stomach pool with warmth.

"I mean, we're adults, and our relationship's healthy, so it's more 'mutual decision' than 'popping the question,' but," Tina paused—momentarily distracted by Bette's beauty—thumb tracing a line down the brunette's neck, "yeah." She offered Bette a shy smile. "I'd like to marry you."

"Again," Bette reminded her, her smile a little sheepish.

"Again," Tina chuckled. Then, her voice turned earnest, her expression reverent as her eyes perused Bette's face. "Forever, this time."

Under the duvet, Bette's hand found Tina's hip, and she pulled the blonde toward her, pressing a kiss to pink lips.

At the simple pleasure of Bette's curves melding against her own, Tina felt her stomach flutter. "Is that a yes?" Then, not waiting for an answer—she knew Bette felt the same, that she, too, wanted to spend forever together—she lowered her head, latching her lips onto the column of a bronze neck.

Bette's eyes shut as she fell victim to the feeling of Tina's hot, meandering mouth against her skin. She buried her hand beneath the blonde's shirt, caressing bare skin. For years, it had taken her ages to fall asleep at night—too hot, too sweaty, too lonely—but, now, in Tina's bed, she was already well on her way to dreamland, eyelids heavy.

Feeling close to sleep herself, Tina turned around in Bette's arms, nestling herself deeper into the brunette's warm embrace.

Instinctively, Bette's arm tightened around Tina, pulling her close.

Tina reached for Bette's hand, entwining their fingers. "Goodnight."

Bette pressed her lips to a creamy bare shoulder. "Goodnight."