The morning dawned sweet and blue. Outside the dead summer leaves rattled in the branches and the sun hung high within the cloudless sky, a cool pale yellow that cast the colour of autumn over everything it touched.

Rita yawned, the air she inhaled was cold and thin and made her shiver. Her eyes watered and she rubbed them with the heels of her hands, groaning against the pale lemon sunshine that made the windows glow and the kettle gleam as it boiled before her.

She poured the water into the two mugs she had set out, wishing she had something other than cheap instant coffee.

She added milk, stirred, and stared down at the murky looking drinks. She sighed and made a mental note to buy proper coffee after work. But for now, this would have to do, and she dribbled a little more milk into each for good measure, ignoring the fact that the coffee granules didn't seem to be dissolving as they should.

Sleepily she padded back over to the sofa, and with yet another yawn she placed the mugs down onto the coffee table and collapsed into the cushions. She ran the side of her hand beneath her eye leaving a watery black trail of mascara across her finger. Her right eye began to tick at the corner and she closed them tightly, willing the muscle spasm to ease.

As she lay, she could hear Connie in the bathroom - sounds only she would recognise – the way the hooks wobbled on the back of the door when a towel was removed, or the way the floorboards in front of the sink squeaked loudly when stepped on.

She smiled, despite the tiredness that made her eyes throb and her head ache, she was happy...she could still feel Connie's touch upon her skin, and she hugged her knees up against her chest, remembering how it had felt to have her touch her so intimately.

Meanwhile Connie was stood in front of the mirror above the sink in the small bathroom. She'd showered and washed her hair and now as she stood here in the cold her skin prickled and shivered.

The light in here was too bright, she decided, though there were no blinds nor curtains at the windows to do anything about it.

The light hurt her eyes and showed every line of her face. She looked older than she had realised. The lines about her eyes didn't fade as much as they used to when she relaxed her face, and the skin of her neck didn't seem as taut.

With a sigh she unzipped the over night bag that she had packed and withdrew her make up, setting it out along the back of the sink and drawing in a breath, readying herself to take on the task of making herself look more like the woman she had thought she was.

Whilst she smoothed foundation onto her skin, she cast her mind back to the night before, and as she brushed blusher onto her cheeks she watched her fingers in the mirror. Only hours ago the hand she now used to hold her make up brush had been between Rita's legs, touching her, feeling how incredibly soft and warm she was. She bit her lip against a smile, how relieved she was that she'd been able to give Rita so much pleasure, and how nervous she had been...

She unscrewed the top of her mascara and, begrudgingly, she leaned in closer to the mirror in order to apply it to her eyelashes. She pursed her lips, the lines about her mouth showed...laughter lines...something which had always surprised her. She drew in a breath and lightly pressed some colour to her lips with her lipstick before pressing her lips together.

She didn't look too bad, she supposed, and there was still her hair...once her hair was dried she would feel better, she decided, but for now it was towel dried and twisted into a loose bun at the back of her neck to keep it from dripping cold water down her back.

With a final glance to the mirror she stepped back. She stood for a moment, clad only in the black satin of her underwear. She had left her clothes in the sitting room, whether or not she had done this deliberately she wasn't sure, but now she was faced with the decision to wrap a damp towel about herself to conceal her modesty, or go as she was...she looked herself up and down. Somewhere deep within the pit of her stomach she felt the vague stirring of something familiar. She drew in a breath and hung the towel back up against the door. She would go like this, she decided. After all, she felt guilty about the night before, that she hadn't been able to allow Rita to touch her, and somehow she thought that perhaps the simple act of being so exposed would show the other woman how much she trusted her.

She smiled to herself, she remembered how much she used to enjoy using her body to tease...

Without allowing herself to think again, she slipped from the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her and made her way back into the main living area. She smiled as she noticed the top of Rita's head lolled back against the arm of the sofa. Without a sound she knelt down next to her and allowed herself a moment to look at her, her skin was pale, her lips pink and parted slightly and her neck was long and exposed as she leant back.

Ever so quietly Connie leant forwards and placed one soft kiss after another against the rise of Rita's throat until she felt Rita swallow and laugh, tilting her head back down and opening her eyes.

"Tickles..."

She murmured, yawning. Her eyes were bloodshot and heavy but still she looked so beautiful.

"Do you have an iron?"

Connie whispered, and Rita frowned. Whatever she had been expecting her to say, it hadn't been that.

"Hmm?"

She murmured, and stretched against the sofa, raising her arms up above her head in an exaggerated movement, and Connie couldn't help but notice how her top rose up exposing her stomach, and how her jeans were still undone, hanging low on her hips...

"Do you have an iron that I could borrow?"

Connie asked again, glancing to the crumpled clothes that she had folded and placed neatly on the coffee table before she had showered.

"Uhm..."

Rita rubbed her fingers against her forehead. She knew she owned an iron, but the exact whereabouts of it often eluded her.

"I have clothes that you can borrow?"

She offered, not relishing the thought of looking for the iron in any of her various cupboards.

Connie raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, however you're quite a bit smaller than I am..."

She reached out as she spoke and without thinking she pushed a strand of Rita's hair back from her face, the mere act making Rita smile.

"Shorter, yes...but there's nothing of you. There must be something you can wear, come on..."

She forced herself to rise and get up from the sofa, and it was only when Connie stood up from where she had been knelt beside her that she noticed she was only in her underwear.

She paused, glancing at her, her underwear, the trail of water that slipped across her collar bone and ran between the curve of her breasts, the flat of her stomach and the skin of her thighs.

"Uhm?"

She exhaled all at once and looked back up at Connie, her eyes wide.

"Clothes?"

Connie prompted.

"Clothes!"

Rita repeated with a determined nod of her head, and she glanced again to the length of Connie's legs.

"Maybe not trousers..."

She added.

Good morning everyone! Not my best update, but my excuse is that I've been up since 4 and I'm about as tired as Rita is in this chapter ;)

Anyway, please review, and I'll see if I can get another chapter written before my children decide they want to do something with me :) Hope everyone has a lovely Sunday!

Oh, and if you're on twitter, I uploaded a picture I drew last night of Connie and Rita ...my user name on there is Someofherparts xxx