Hawke's POV

I woke up in a fog. My head ached. My ears rang. My body was sore. I had no idea where I was. But there was something warm smothering me. God… this is what hangovers feel like? Why did Isabela-… OH… I carefully cracked open one eye. My girlfriend was draped over my side in all her sleeping, snoring, sweaty, sun-kissed splendor. We must have passed out after round… Shit. I lost count after four. It was way too bright in the room, so I glanced up at the clock. 10:37. Fuck, shit, tits!

"'Bela?" I mumbled sleepily. The only reaction I received was a small amount of squirming on top of my right arm. Her knee rubbed against a particularly sensitive area and I bit my tongue. "Please wake up, babe." I called again. There was a slight groan against my collarbone and some mumbling that sounded like 'five more minutes'. Time to switch tactics. I placed my free hand on her hip. "Isabela…" I moaned breathlessly into her ear, sprinkling some kisses on her temple.

I know that… "Ugh… Hawke?" I kissed her forehead in response, glad that her leg slid lower on my thigh. "Mmm. How's the hangover?" She asked without even the semblance of moving from her spot.

Like a thousand jack-hammers having an orgy on my frontal lobe. I only replied, "bad."

"First one?" I simply grunted, feeling a little nauseous. I'll have to write this in my journal. 'Hawke's Firsts, Part 2'. "Welcome to the big leagues, kiddo." She congratulated me sarcastically.

Since I felt like crap and Isabela gave no effort to rising, I allowed us a few more minutes of morning-after snuggles. Only after the numbness in my trapped limb became near intolerable did I attempt to stir the proverbial sleeping bear. "Ready to get up? It's almost eleven." I said in my sweetest voice.

My girlfriend sighed heavily against my neck, rubbing her nose against me. "Aren't you supposed to be a cuddler?" I'm not ready to go anywhere yet. Fuck, you're comfy.

"I am… but I can't feel my arm."

"Oops." She immediately rolled off of me and I clenched my hand. Ow, ow! Pins and needles! I winced as I shook it off, slowly regaining circulation. Isabela slid from the bed and onto her feet. "You're a pretty good pillow."

"I live to serve, remember?" I stretched my arms over my head, but stopped to look at her perfect tan frame turned away from me, practically radiating sexual energy. "Baby, I think you're glowing."

She glanced back over her shoulder, grinning rather smugly. "One of the many delicious benefits of amazing sex." Her gaze drifted down my body at a glacial pace, eventually making it back to my huge smile. "You're a little shiny, yourself." Taking that as a compliment/invitation combo, I hopped up not-so-gracefully and wrapped my arms around her waist. She chuckled at my exuberance, not even trying to escape my grasp. But I could hear a familiar sound from somewhere in the apartment.

"Do you hear that?" My arms went slack and I listened more closely. R2D2? … That's… I began to panic. "Shit! Where's my phone?" I dropped to the floor, rummaging through our discarded clothes.

Isabela stood idly by, confused at my outburst. "Kitchen?" She offered uncertainly.

Jeans! I half crawled, half sprinted out of the room, quickly finding the misplaced article and scooping up my cell phone. I barely had time to stand and accept the call, frightened about what might happen if it went to voicemail. "Heyyy Bethany." I said way too awkwardly.

"… Are you ok, sis? You sound funny."

She's too observant for her own good. "Just a little nauseous," was my nonchalant reply.

"Why would you be- Have you been drinking?" She asked accusingly. I cringed, taking a few moments to think up a proper excuse.

But somehow Isabela snuck up behind me. A set of hands began a journey from my ribs to my hips. "I'm running a bath. Join me when you're done." She licked the top of my ear, using her teeth to tug gently on the circular barbell. I closed my eyes tight as she slipped away, my hands shaking uncontrollably with a rapid rush of lust. I squeaked when she pinched my ass, and my face burned.

"Who is that?"

I'm so screwed. My mind immediately ran to the worst case scenario: getting outed to my mother and the angry phone call that would ensue. Or worse, she could just decide to show up and confront me about it! I couldn't allow that exceptionally awkward conversation to happen. I just wasn't prepared for it yet. I needed more time. "I'll bring you into the fold. But only if you promise not to say a word to anyone else."

"You know I can't keep things from Carver."

Fucking twin senses. "Fine. But if he tattles to mother, I'll make this Christmas a living Hell for the both of you. Think the Grinch with power tools."

"Just tell me already!"

I had to pull the phone from my ear. I didn't need any extra pain in my already throbbing head. "Shh. No yelling." I chose my words as carefully as semi-soberly possible. "It's my girlfriend Isabela. We got a little smashed last night."

"Oh my God! How long have you been dating?!"

Another jackhammer joined the others banging on my brain. "Control your fucking volume, Beth." I hissed angrily.

"Sorry," she sarcastically whispered. "But seriously, why didn't you say anything?"

Because you're a nosy little sister and it's none of your business. "You called an hour or so before we met last Friday." I informed her truthfully.

"So you started screwing this chick within the week? And you couldn't even send your own sister a text? What kind of person are you?" The private older sibling kind.

"Hawke! I'll let you wash my breasts!" Isabela's voice echoed through the apartment and I bit my lip.

There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. "Please tell me you didn't hear that." I choked out, my hand covering my mouth so that she couldn't hear me hyperventilate.

"I think I threw up in my mouth a little."

Embarrassment turned to genius and I decided to use my sibling's disgust against her. "You breathe a word about Isabela and I swear I'll obliterate your phone with extremely detailed descriptions of my sex life. Then your email. Then all of your social media. One single slip of my preferences and before you know it, every facet of your little life will be smothered in lesbian erotica."

"You'd never do that," she gasped incredulously.

"The water's hot! Get off the phone!" Isabela called from the bathroom.

I grinned maliciously from ear to ear. "Care to bet?"

"… Fine. But mother's going to find out eventually." She remarked defiantly. I could basically feel the eye roll.

Ugh… "I'll tell her myself, Bethany. But right now I gotta go."

"Talk later?"

"Come on, Cassandra! I'm lonely in here!"

"Tomorrow, I promise. Loveyoubye." I spat quickly before hanging up. I set my phone on the island in the kitchen, immediately marching back to the source of the disturbance. "Jeez, Isabela. What's the-" My body froze in the entranceway. My girlfriend was lying in the claw-foot bathtub with one shapely leg out of the water, washing diligently. Nakedness during sex, nakedness in the morning, and nakedness during sleep weren't as intriguing as wet nakedness. And a pirate in her proper fluid environment, covered in suds, and with large breasts practically floating on the surface was a whole new level of erotic. I felt like Aveline was going to burst in at any moment and arrest me for 'thoughts untoward'. But, although inappropriate to speak about in polite company, the sudden heat in my body was entirely unavoidable and very well deserved. I'm human, after all.

"You going to finish that sentence?" She smirked up at me, still tending to herself. I gulped and shook my head, feeling like I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Isabela finally returned her leg to the bath water and slowly stood. "There's room enough for two, wolf eyes." She placed her hands on her hips and I gulped hard.

The only coherent thoughts in my recovering brain were telling me to latch onto the droplets of water slowly trickling down my lover's chest. I slapped my hands over my face. I'm hungover, my head hurts, my muscles are tense, and I probably stink. Logically, bathing makes sense. Of course, a bath with naked Isabela seems like a very bad idea. Horribly stupid. In fact, any sane physician would advise against it… Good thing I'm not a doctor! I slowly uncovered my eyes, focusing on the tile floor. "Be gentle?" I pleaded weakly.

The older woman just snickered at me, extending a hand. "I'd say I don't bite, but you know me better than that. So let's say that I won't bite." Unless you ask nicely, of course. She glanced at my neck and shoulder, the proof to her point. With a conquered sigh, I accepted the invitation.

Here I was, an able-bodied adult, sitting in a bath with my knees to my chest and having my back scrubbed for me. I kind of felt like a child, though Isabela's skilled hands carefully cleansing my shoulder (and the perfect impression of her teeth), reminded me otherwise. It was still strange, especially when she started to wash over my large scar. I would never get used to being touched there, not even in such a tender manner. I halfway considered humming to kill the silence as she continued her services, but was a little surprised when my mouth started moving of its own accord. "That was Bethany on the phone." I blurted nervously.

"Your kid sister?" She pushed at my knees, obviously wishing me to get comfortable. I relented, stretching my legs out as much as the space allowed, but keeping my arms crossed over my chest.

"Uh-huh. You were mentioned." Isabela handed me the washcloth and I was grateful for the opportunity to wash the rest of my body unassisted. "She's probably telling Carver all about 'our Cassandra the heathen and her drunken escapades'." I chuckled awkwardly, playing my own misery off as a joke.

I'm not sure I appreciate being considered an 'escapade', even if I know it's not true. There was a long passing of anxious quiet before my companion sighed and wrapped herself around my back. I wonder what they're like… "You should give me her number. If she's going to relay our tales, I should at least have the chance to check her facts." The joyful nature of her voice made me smile.

I allowed her to pull me close, leaning us against the edge of the bathtub. Our fingers entwined on my stomach and any discomfort I had felt seemed to melt away. "Oh? And what is the story of Hawke and Isabela?" I joked.

A love story? No. I hate that gushy crap. Maybe like… Fifty Shades of Grey. Sex and intrigue is much more my style. She nipped lightly at the skin behind my ear. "I'm not sure. But it's a real toe-curler." Her voice seemed to contradict the words she uttered. It's as if she was covering sentiment with a layer of lust, whether she realized it or not. But I wasn't going to call her out on it. She obviously wasn't ready to accept whatever feelings she was withholding, and I could appreciate that. For the moment, at least.

"And here I thought we could intake some calories before going again." As if on cue, my gut began an angry grumbling. Spoilsport. My girlfriend sighed against my neck, her advances effectively squashed.

"I'm not making you breakfast this time, if that's what you're after." I chuckled at her disgruntled huffing.

"And exploit your hospitality? I wouldn't dream of it. If anything, I was offering to make you lunch." I leaned back further, allowing me to press a kiss to her cheek.

She began to tickle my sides, causing me to squirm and giggle (uncharacteristically, of course). "Only if you take me up on my offer." She boldly handed me the washcloth. It took me a moment to remember what she meant, but my cheeks flushed hard once I did. Even a straight chick would have a difficult time saying 'no' to that!

I turned my body, sitting on my knees between her outstretched legs. Despite how new the whole experience was for me, my grin was a mile wide. "Gladly." I had to fight back a groan at the wicked glimmer in her amber eyes, but quickly shook it off, focusing on lathering up the washcloth. I couldn't even look at her chest directly. Instead, I closed my eyes and allowed my hands to do their work.

Isabela sank back with a sigh as I gently stroked her breasts, washing them as soothingly as possible despite my calloused hands. I got the distinct impression that she had already cleaned the area prior to my arrival, but I didn't mind being taken advantage of. In fact, even long after I had given the entire span from her breasts to her hips a thorough washing, neither of us made any effort to move. I simply rested my head against her collarbone, listening to the calmness of her breath. "So… we're going dancing tonight."

My girlfriend's eyelids were shut tight, but I could tell she wasn't asleep. She simply hummed, "Mmhmm."

"Any plans until then?" I smiled brightly, hoping that she had something fun in mind. I drew nervous circles around her navel, growing concerned when she didn't immediately reply. But I was overjoyed at her answer.

"Flying Circus marathon?"

I think I love you. I pulled my head back, looking at the blissful state of her face. "Ms. Rivaini, is this your way of proposing? Because it's working." I placed kisses all around her cheek and jaw, trying my best to restrain my excitement lest my headache return.

Sweet, geeky, adorable, naïve Hawke... We can't have this conversation. We can never have this conversation. Because when we do, I'll break your heart. Isabela moved her head to the side, looking at me with one eye. "I propose you either move your attention lower, or make me a sandwich." Her words were cold, calculating and that dry kind of witty, like she was forcing it. For the second time that morning, I had to take a step back and avoid spooking her.

"Good; you had me worried there for a minute." I moved in to get a final kiss.

"Hey!" Instead, she socked me in the arm a little harder than playfully necessary, giving me a nasty and insulted look. That supplied me with of all the proof that I needed. You wouldn't be so defensive if you didn't actually consider yourself marriage material. Of course, I couldn't turn her own identity upside down. Not yet.

"See what I mean? One week in and you're already abusing me." I noted sarcastically, massaging my thumb over the sore spot. Pretty good arm for such a classy lady. Minorly impressed, I grinned, eliciting an eye roll from my cynical lover.

Hit the woman and she smiles like a smitten pre-teen. She pushed at my shoulders, avoiding direct eye contact. "Oh, be a good little woman and get in the kitchen."

I laughed at the irony of the comment. I was bigger, stronger and far more masculine than Isabela, but as far as our relationship was concerned, she definitely wore the metaphorical pants. I stood and exited the bathtub, immediately patting myself dry with a towel. "Can I get dressed first?"

"Is that rhetorical question? Because if not…" Isabela looked me over, still reclined in the water. She tilted her head appraisingly, a smug smirk lighting up her tan features. I just sighed and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"You're insatiable." I wrapped myself up in the towel, quickly padding toward the hallway. "If you need me, I'll be making popcorn." I began to dress in the living room, leaving my girlfriend in her thoughts.

I can never marry Hawke. She's technically my girlfriend right now, thanks to our agreement, but… That's exactly what she is. She's a girl. She's my friend. And she just happens to be amazing in the sack. I mean, I do like her. But who wouldn't? She's cute, attentive, funny, easy on the eyes, and wicked smart. But I can't marry her. The sex would get old eventually.We would get old eventually. And I'm independent. I can take care of myself… mostly. Though…

I was rifling through Isabela's pantry when I heard her call from the bathroom. "How are your footrubs?"

I stopped what I was doing, wondering if I had understood her correctly. "What?"

"Nothing…" I couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

I must have heard her correctly. Just as I thought, she's sizing me up for the long-term. Well, don't you worry, Ms. Rivaini. I'll woo you yet.

Author's Note:

After looking through and editing my chapters, I have begun to notice how some people may find my POV system a little confusing. When I say POV, it is usually Physical point of view. The reader can still read the thought process of those involved, but the characters obviously cannot.

I try to group a character's thoughts in with their dialogue, but I'll be honest, it can be a pain. But I think that having access to an individual's inner workings (especially Isabela's), makes their actions a little easier to understand.

As always, reviews are appreciated. And if anything just sticks out and makes you say "huh?", feel free to PM me, and I'll try to either edit or clarify it within the story.