Jessica Jones usually wasn't afraid to call a spade a spade, but she would've hated to call their new nightly ritual "cuddling." But there was really nothing else to call it when, night after night, Trish would curl into her side and Jessica would hold her close. The first couple of times, Trish had still asked if it was all right, waiting for verbal acquiescence before doing anything. Soon, though, it became a habit – a position they went into as soon as Jessica turned out the light. Normally they didn't speak at all, but after they'd been doing this for a week, Trish decided to brave some conversation.

"Hey?"

"What?" Jessica grumbled.

"How come we never talk about boys?"

"Why would we talk about boys?"

"I don't know, I mean, one of the first things we really ever talked about was kissing. I guess I've just been wondering if there are any guys at school that you think are cute."

Jessica grunted. It felt weird to talk about this when her arm was around a beautiful, sweet girl. "Objectively, sure. I dunno, I don't think about that stuff very much."

A pause, then, "Do you like boys?"

"What? Yes! I do. I just have standards, is all."

"Moral standards?"

"No, I mean standards about guys. Everyone at school is a dumbbell."

"Fair point," Trish chuckled. "Does that mean you still haven't been kissed yet?"

"Nope, still haven't. Still don't care."

"Oh, okay."

"…why, did you have your first one off set?"

"Nope, still haven't. I care a little a bit. Well, a lot, actually."

"Okay…" She'd allowed a little trepidation to creep into those two syllables, and Jessica sighed heavily. "Do you want me to just do it and get it over with?"

"What?" Trish asked, sounding not disgusted but surprised.

"You sound antsy to get it over with. Or are you just waiting for the right person to come along, like saving yourself for it?"

There was a painfully long silence, during which Jessica tried to calculate how difficult it would be to throw herself out of the nearest window. Before she could toss out the first snarky thought that came to mind, Trish said, "I guess I was kind of waiting for the right person." It was difficult not to interpret this a certain way when she said it while propped up slightly, her hand on Jessica's chest, giving her the perfect opportunity to feel the rapidity of her heartbeat.

Jessica shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, so…"

Trish was all but hovering over her, feeling like she was on the edge of a great precipice. It was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. She knew that as a famous TV star, she was the envy of millions of people around the world who did not and never would know her. The glamor, the fame, and the money all seemed so appealing that it blocked out any thought of the potential negatives: the total lack of privacy, the lack of control over her own life, the constant shuttling about. It had never left her time to become close to anyone. The only people she ever really saw were her co-stars, and while she got along fine with most of them on set, she wasn't close enough to any of them to spend time with them when they weren't working. She'd never been able to develop a close friendship with anyone, much less be intimate in any way with someone.

Friends don't do this, though. What we do. They don't sleep together like this. Right? She must feel something of what I feel…

The most important thing, though, was that Trish strongly felt that even if her inklings were incorrect, Jessica would never say anything about it. She could be trusted.

"Trish, what're you…?"

Trish was breathless: "Do you want to?"

"I'm not gay," Jessica said, her tone defensive.

"Me neither. I just thought…I mean, it was your idea."

"I was just joking around." No I wasn't. Oh, my God. Dear God. God. Please stop me from saying anything else.

Trish slowly moved off her, lying on her back. "Yeah, so was I," she said in the least convincing delivery of her life on- or off-screen.

Shit. Shit, you idiot. Shit. Do something.

Jessica rolled onto her side, muttering "God dammit" and feeling for Trish's face in the dark. Once her fingers had a more secure hold on the girl's cheek, she braced herself and leaned down for a kiss. She missed a little in the dark, catching part of Trish's lower lip but mostly her chin. Her stomach lurched uneasily, but Trish's laughter—light, nervous, forgiving—encouraged her to try again. This time she brushed her thumb along Trish's mouth before meeting it with her own, to much greater success. Trish's hands went up to rest in Jessica's hair. Within moments, Jessica had lowered herself more fully on top of Trish, their limbs knocking together a little awkwardly but doing nothing to diffuse any of the enthusiasm brimming between them.

Eventually Jessica broke it off, breathing deep.

"What's wrong?" Trish asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Did I mess up?"

"No," Jessica managed, somewhat breathlessly. I just wasn't ready for that. Wow. God damn it, wow. Oh man. "No, Trish. You were perfect. Take two?"

And thus another new habit was born. Nothing helped Trish get through a slow work day like thinking of nighttime, when she would be cozied up next to someone who truly cared about her – as a person, not an asset – and get to make out with them. Jessica would hate to admit to anyone, even herself, but she knew she'd zoned out in class more than once while thinking about Trish. Specifically, thinking of things she'd like to do to her in bed…

Not that anything felt perfect right away, so to speak. Spit played a more prominent part than either of them would have liked or necessarily expected as they figured out more of the logistics. But there was a mystifying lack of self-consciousness when they were together, at least most of the time, and that helped them to laugh over anything that might've otherwise been mortifying.

There was an unspoken comfort to the darkness. Jessica wasn't sure she'd have been able to do anything akin to cuddle with, let alone kiss Trish if there was much more light. The darkness helped it all feel like a dream somehow, like it wasn't real – just an escape. A fantasy. Something that likely further helped this was the fact that for a long time, they never went beyond making out; they never really even came that close. In retrospect, Jessica wasn't sure if that was because of their dual inexperience and (to a degree) innocence, or because they shared some sort of subconscious concern that going any further would make what they were doing too real. It was weeks until a line was crossed.

Although Jessica had been the first to ever initiate it, every night afterwards it was Trish. They had both been a little shy the night afterwards, but once the light was off and they'd resumed their usual position, Trish had tentatively asked "can I kiss you?" and Jessica grunted her permission. So it was each night – Trish always asked first.

One night, though, Trish's first question was, "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh…sure?"

"Am I doing okay?"

"What?"

Trish cringed at the impatience in Jessica's tone. "H-how am I doing?"

"You want me to evaluate you? Like I'm one of your directors? I thought you said you hated when they did that."

"I do hate when they do it. Bossing me around, having to kiss a guy I barely know, on a set in front of dozens of people, because it's written in a script—that's different from kissing y—you."

Jessica licked her lips and moved a little closer. One arm was tucked beneath Trish's shoulders, the other resting partially on the girl's stomach as she brushed her fingers against Trish's. "So you like doing this, right? It's not just, like… practice for you or something?"

Trish nodded fervently. "I like it."

"Yeah, well." She leaned over for a kiss, teasing Trish's lips apart and sliding her tongue inside. There came that familiar feeling of it's too hot, you're wearing too many clothes – which seemed to arise whenever she did this, whenever she could feel Trish shiver in direct response to something she, Jessica, did. She pulled back a little, planting a kiss on Trish's mouth, her dimple, her cheek. "You're good at it," she murmured. "Jesus, Trish. You're so fucking beautiful."

Trish gasped softly, taken off guard by her physical reaction to the word Jessica had just dropped. She squirmed, pressing her legs together. "Shit," she whispered, not sure whether to laugh or be horrified.

"Wow! Such language, Patsy!" Jessica snickered. "Isn't it in your contract or something that you have to maintain a certain level of clean lang—"

Trish silenced her by putting a finger to Jessica's lips. "Shut up, you goddam smartass."

Confronted with the possibility of doing something very real and impossible to take back, Jessica responded by licking Trish's finger in a purposefully gross manner. This led to the intended result of Trish laughing and pulling back. She grabbed a pillow and smacked Jessica with it, and she laughingly responded in kind. But soon enough, Trish had dropped the pillow and taken hold of Jessica's face with both hands, pulling her into a kiss.

What are we doing?

I don't know.

Are we still on the same page? What page was it, anyway?

I don't know.

It was beyond clear that Trish was more excited than usual, and Jessica was trying to figure out where she was herself when Trish suddenly pulled away, throwing herself onto her back. "Phew!" she laughed, heaving deep breaths. "Wow. Um. Wow. You really know how to get someone going, Jessica Jones."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Jessica snorted, chuckling as she considered the different levels that statement could work on.

"Could've fooled me," Trish said, her voice hoarse. She abruptly sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and getting out. "Sorry, gotta pee."

Jessica didn't count the minutes, but for the urgency Trish had displayed in getting out of the room, it seemed she had been gone a little longer than she should've been. When she came back, she crawled back across the bed and slipped under the covers. Both of them were lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Jessica waited a few moments, then asked in the flattest voice she could, "So, did you relieve yourself?"

"Ohhh, my God!" Trish laughed, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," Jessica laughed. "It's, uh, totally natural."

"Is it natural that I feel like I could do it again, like right now? Is that weird?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Ugh, but it's so cold out there, and so warm in here," Trish groaned, pulling the blanket tighter in around herself.

A long silence followed, then Jessica said, "Just to clarify, you're—not talking about pissing, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Right."

"Um…well, you could take care of it here, if you need to. If you want to, I mean."

"Really? That wouldn't be weird?"

Jessica shrugged the best she could while lying down. "I don't know, no?"

"Okay," Trish whispered, sounding grateful.

Jessica had wanted to try and stay casual, but her eyes swung left to watch the instant Trish's hand dove under the covers. And then she felt her body moving as if of its own volition so she could lie more on her side, watching unapologetically as Trish writhed, her breathing short. She was waiting for Jessica to make some kind of snarky comment, feeling the girl's eyes on her, but none came. Her initial instinct had been to try and stifle any of the sounds she made, but she felt strangely exhilarated and uninhibited with Jessica watching her. A series of soft whimpers – each one seeming to make a different hair on Jessica's neck stand on end – turned into a moan.

"Shit," Jessica muttered, turning to glance at the door and make sure it was closed. With a nervous laugh, she said, "You're gonna wake someone up!"

"Plea—'s not that loud," Trish managed.

But the comment made her decide to make a more concentrated effort to be quiet, not realizing the sounds of her stifled breathing were still incredibly arousing. Hell, even the sound of the sheets rustling over her hand was arousing. When another moan slipped out, Jessica leaned over to kiss her. Given that her eyes had been closed, Trish was completely caught off guard; she gasped, teeth bumped, and her free hand clumsily reached to grab hold of Jessica's head. Their positioning was more than a little awkward, as Jessica wanted to be close to her without restricting the movement of her dominant hand. Trish's body jerked all of a sudden; she accidentally bit Jessica's lip and turned sharply to the side, half-burying her face into a pillow and moaning into it.

Holy shit. Holy shit, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen. Ever heard. Ever felt. Bleeding lip and all. Holy shit. That was beautiful, too. It was beautiful. She let me be part of something beautiful. Jessica rolled onto her back, her breathing as deep as Trish's. Oh, no. So wet.

She was still reeling from having been allowed to share that experience with Trish, but felt overwhelmed by the obligation that she should reciprocate. Don't think of yourself. Don't do it. You can't. Stop it.

A few moments later, Jessica rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom and didn't come back for a short while. When she got back into bed, there were no smart remarks or teasing comments; Trish just cuddled up next to her, resting her head on Jessica's chest.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine. You?"

"Mm-hm."

"It was my fault."

They were lying side by side in the dark, but Jessica's voice still somehow sounded far away. Trish propped herself up a little. "What?"

"It was my fault. The crash."

Trish was silent for a few moments, waiting for more details, but that seemed to be all Jessica could offer at the moment. Finally Trish asked, "What…how can that be? It was a car accident, you weren't driving…"

"I got into a fight with my brother over a stupid fucking Gameboy. My dad turned around in the seat to yell at us—at me—and… that's when the truck…"

She had never liked to cry in front of other people, or even acknowledge much emotion in front of them. Trish had a way of making her feel less self-conscious about things that she normally guarded, but Jessica couldn't bring herself to cry openly because of the fear that Trish would shame her, reject her, be horrified by her admission. When tears started to fall, she cringed, curling onto her side away from Trish. She'd hoped that this could be a different sort of intimacy she could share with Trish, since she didn't quite feel prepared to show exactly what Trish had. Maybe admitting that had been a stupid, selfish thing to do – but the guilt had been weighing on her like a cross, and she'd hoped that speaking the words out loud might help somehow relieve a little bit of that pain. But that was stupid, she didn't feel at all better; in fact, she somehow felt worse.

But then she felt Trish press up against her back, reaching her arm around so she could take hold of Jessica's hand. Jessica felt a kiss on her cheek, and the harder she shook with half-repressed sobs, the closer Trish held her. The relief from pain did not come crashing over her like a wave, but it started to come in doses, like a slow rain that eventually picked up.

There was no "it's not your fault," no "don't blame yourself," no "God, you're a monster! How do you live with yourself?!" Nothing Jessica had been expecting. For the most part, there was quiet. In fact, the most powerful thing she said was hardly even a syllable, let alone a word.

Jessica tried to speak: "If I hadn't…"

And before she could finish the thought, Trish just said, "Sh."

After managing a few deep breaths, Jessica finally felt her tears start to subside. It was hard to wipe away at them, given that she was lying on her side and Trish was spooning her, but she did the best she could. She was grateful that when Trish spoke up again, she didn't ask Jessica to turn over and look at her. (Why was it that people always thought that was the most sincere way to get things across?)

"I'm sorry a called you a freak before."

Jessica almost laughed. "S'okay. I probably would have, too."

"You are gifted, though."

"What're you gonna tell me now, that… with great power comes great responsibility?"

"No," Trish said, remaining serious even while she could tell Jessica was trying to lighten the grim mood she'd established. "But I think you're honoring your family by using your gifts. I mean I know you said you don't know if the accident caused them or not, but that doesn't even matter. What matters is that now you know you have these powers, and you're using them … altruistically."

Jessica had to laugh at that – "altruism" had been one of her recent vocabulary words, and Trish had helped her study for her test. "Who am I helping?"

"Me," Trish said, stunned that Jessica even had to ask. "I'm just one person, and maybe not worth much in the big picture, but you're helping me. Going to work, like on set and stuff, that used to be kinda fun when I was younger and it was all new and exciting, but… I really don't like it anymore. But even with that, I used to hate coming home even more than I hated going to work, because at least at work my mom kind of had to watch herself around me because other people were watching, listening. At home she could do whatever, she could treat me however she wanted once the staff was out of the house. She can't do that to me anymore, and that's because of you. I feel like I can be safe at home now because of you."

That did it. Jessica turned herself over to face and hugged Trish to her as tightly as she could. They kissed for a short time, but were mostly content just to lie in each other's arms, both of them feeling a certain sure, acknowledged safeness for the first time.

Trish's voice was the softest whisper, spoken as if she thought Jessica might be asleep. "Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're the best friend I've ever had. You don't have to say it back - I just wanted you to know."

"Oh. I guess I didn't really think about it that much... but yeah, you are, too." (It was too bad that she couldn't see the smile this had led to.) "Trish. What about the other stuff we're doing, though? What do you-what do you want?"

"What do you want?"

"I... I don't really know."

"Then let's not know together."

"Okay, but, um... can we try to have some kind of baseline, though? Like, all this - this is happening because we're friends. Oh God, I sound so cheesy," Jessica groaned. "But I mean, let's... agree. Friends first. It'd be nice to have a constant for a change."

"I get that," Trish murmured. "Friends first. Friends forever!"

"Ughhh, stop. You're not gonna like, make us charm bracelets or something, are you?"

"Oh my gosh! That's an amazing idea. Let's do that tomorrow."

"Shut up and go to sleep."