There was a certain drawback of Type A's like Helen. (Well, okay, there were way more than one but only one that bothered Carol at the moment.) She seemed to be unable to just lounge in bed in the morning and always had to be up and wide awake, almost immediately. Carol, on the other hand, wasn't exactly lethargic but did appreciate a gentler rise. Most of the time she woke to an empty bed and the faint smell of coffee brewing elsewhere. Carol rolled over as the light sliced through the curtains and groggily groped around for something to wear. Finding the floor absent of discarded clothes from the night before, she stumbled to Helen's dresser and rummaged around for a t-shirt and pair of shorts, pulling them in with some mild annoyance. But she breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of Helen's detergent and couldn't quite hold back the tiny quirk of her lips as the familiar smell draped over her.
Helen was already bustling around her kitchen with purpose and haste as the coffee bubbled in the carafe. There was a selection of fresh fruit on a plate and a few yogurt cups. She jumped at Carol's presence and laughed to cover it up. "Hey. I was going to bring you some breakfast in bed, sleepyhead."
"Can you blame me?" Carol grinned, her mind flashing through the hours upon hours last night where she was definitely not sleeping. Her cheeks began a slow blush and her pulse quickened slightly.
This time when Helen approached her, she didn't stiffen or giggle at the morning kiss. It was a gentle lingering feeling and Carol felt herself leaning into it.
"Morning, Scrunch." She gave Carol a deliberate look over. "I see you found something to wear." With a wink she added, "Suits you."
The younger woman chuckled shyly and dodged Helen's stare. "Well, obviously…" She motioned towards Helen, who was clad in nothing more than a loose-fitting, long navy tank top. She was so fucking hot. It still had the ability to fluster her, which also flustered her even more that a woman could do that to her. The words didn't need to be adequately articulated as Helen clearly looked flattered herself. Changing the subject from their mutual appreciation, Helen grabbed a mug and began pouring as she hurriedly rattled off her chores for the day. She was used to this routine by now. "So, I have to head into the office in about half an hour. Meeting with Cassandra from Scheduling about Sean & Beverly's thing-what a mess. Then what's her name from Drama Dev has some casting issues she needs to go over with me and Andy. Bobby from Distrib has a problem with one of the south east affiliates not wanting to air The Box. And Myra has some pick-up ideas she wants to run by me and, shit, what's his name?"
Carol shrugged. She really didn't know and it wouldn't be able to even hazard a guess.
Helen shook it off and sighed. "Anyway, the new guy, soon-to-be unemployed guy. And keep your phone on because Elliot will likely be calling to set up a meeting with you," she said glancing at the clock on the over, "Soon."
"Elliot Salad?" There was that 3rd octave she could reach.
Handing a cup of coffee with sugar and cream to Carol, Helen nodded with a faux wince. "I may have already spoken to him about you being needed." She shrugged again, taking a long gulp of her own coffee. "He'll want you to drop by."
"Already?" The idea was a little bewildering and she couldn't help wondering if maybe they really were suffering without her. The idea made her spine a little straighter and her lips curled up into a smug smile.
"Of course already. Just remember: be demanding. You'll get it." Helen sidled over to her with a certain sway in her hips. "And maybe after that, we can do lunch, if you'd like." Her hands slid easily over Carol's hips, sending sparks to her toes at the contact and the low timbre left no doubt what she really meant.
"Mmm-hmm. Yeah, I think I can do that," Carol whispered hoarsely as her eyes closed of their own accord when Helen's lips moved over her pulse point. "Think you can do breakfast too?"
Helen grinned as Carol demandingly pulled her face up to crush their lips together. The sound made Carol's knees feel weak and her chest did that weird thing that felt her heart had butterflies, not her stomach, like she was having a 100 really tiny heart attacks in a row—but they felt good. Her fingers travelled down, impatiently flicking away the hem of Helen's tank top and dipping lower. Helen hissed in a sharp breath between her teeth and her arms went out to steady her own body against the counter.
"You may be a tad late to that first meeting," Carol muttered against the shell of the older woman's ear and twisted her wrist just so. It elicited the desired gasp and she felt a hand reflexively squeeze her hip tightly in response. Helen's forehead fell against her shoulder and she let out a shuddering breath. Everything about this moment seemed to be perfect.
"Ah, who needs yogurt anyway?"
It really was all about finding the right boss.
.
.
-END