AN: Another big one. I've got story to tell, and I want to give it space to breathe. Plus, domestic and relationship fluff.

So, it's after school and after work on a Wednesday night. It's also February. It feels like Christmas was yesterday. Joan is sitting on the couch, actually lying half against me. She's been opening up, a little, about her relationship.

"So, we looked up a lot of stuff. Like, a lot a lot." She's waving her hands wide, almost hitting me by accident. "And it's a lot to go through. Trying to sort out what we are—I mean, each of us, and together."

I say nothing, just rest a hand against her shoulder. She can continue if she wants to.

There's silence for a while before she does continue. "We think it's about Tink, really. She's a… vee? or pivot? or something like that—the one everyone else likes the most. I mean, I get it—Bex likes her for mostly the same reasons I do. But I was wondering something…"

"About what?" I keep my tone neutral, but inquisitive.

"About when Cass was over, with you and dad."

"You want to know if there were feelings involved, and how we handled it?"

"Yeah," she slips down slightly, her hands folded over each other. "I mean, you're the only actual person any of us can ask about it."

"No pressure then." I shake my head. "But I'm afraid I can't really help that much, because honestly it was very much about the sex, and only a little bit about the feelings."

"Seriously, mom?" I can tell she's disappointed, impressed, and vaguely disgusted—in the way all teenagers are when they realise older people still like having sex.

"Cass knew what she wanted," I say it softly. "We discussed feelings, but it was nothing like jealousy or betrayal—we all went in knowing what we wanted, and what the score would be. I guess that's really not something you three had an option with."

"No, we didn't," Joan shakes her head sadly. "And I don't know if I could have accepted that, instead of working through it now."

"And that's okay too." I brush her hair with my fingers. "It's surprised me how well you three seem to be handling this. I'm proud of you; all of you, for trying to be mature adults about this new kind of relationship."

"Thanks mom." She reaches up to stop my hand. Maybe she doesn't need the extra comfort. It makes me kind of sad to think that, but also proud to see her growth.

"I've been trying so hard not to pry, or demand anything from you about this. You know it's hard for me. Sometimes needing to let you make your own mistakes, and find your own way. I still want to protect you—but it looks like Tina does it sometimes now too."

"Bex too." She blushes as she says it. Did she mean to tell me?

"No, I won't pry," I rest my hand on her shoulder again. "You set that boundary, and I will respect it."

"Thanks," she uses my hand to help herself sit upright. "Is it wrong that it feels kinda weird you're letting me keep this stuff secret—or, just to myself, I guess?"

"I don't think so," I shake my head softly. "You said you wanted to do that—that's setting a boundary, and that's perfectly okay to do, even with me. Maybe it feels weird because this time I really am listening to what you said about it?"

"Maybe," she shrugs. "Independence is weird."

"But it's still nice to know you have people that care about you, and that you can talk to about anything, right?"

"Yeah," she smiles and nods. Her eyes turn pensive for a moment. "So, you said Elsa was looking to treat you extra special after supporting her through the premiere and rehearsal week…"

–∞–

It was actually Monday before we really got anything done again. Well, I still had to work Friday and Saturday, and we did do a bit of cleaning around the house on Sunday. But Monday was my day off, and Elsa had also promised to give me a day that was just about me. She wanted to show her appreciation for everything I'd done for her over the past few weeks. Especially in helping her prepare for the big performance, and not have to worry about anything else in that time.

Late on Sunday night, sharing the bed, she'd whispered something about doing very special things for me this morning. My mind had immediately leapt to that one morning, but we both agreed we'd needed that. This was probably going to be something else, but I wouldn't have minded the intimate attention either. I felt it when Elsa left the bed, then kissed me on the cheek, telling me to get some more sleep. I knew it was too early, sun barely peeking through the curtains.

I woke again to a quiet knock on the door. "Anna, are you awake?"

I mumbled something unintelligible, then rolled over.

"Sort of," I heard her laugh from the other side of the door. "I am coming in now."

She was wearing one of my dresses—and filled it out very nicely, in fact. Over that was an apron. A few small stains dotted around the part I could see. Because she was holding a tray of food. Not my usual, obviously, but quite well presented. Toast, orange segments, a mug of hot chocolate, and a muesli bar. There was a little container of bright orange jam.

She must have noticed my interest in that. "I used the last of the cloudberries—it should be sweet enough for you."

I sat up, and let her place the tray on my legs—still under the covers. I stuck a fingertip into the cloudberry jam and licked it experimentally. It was very sweet, with a slight hint of something tart. It tasted rich, so I spread some across the—I finally noticed—slightly burnt toast. I said nothing, enjoying not having to prepare anything. The hot chocolate was good, though I only took a sip. I was, in fact, considering whether or not I wanted to try finding a proper cloudberry jam. Just to see if it tasted that different.

"You are liking it all?"

I swallowed another bite of the toast. "I do like it, Elsa. All of it."

"But…?" she ventured cautiously.

"No buts," I gave her a sly little smile. "Except yours maybe…"

I saw the slight blush rise in her cheeks. "After breakfast, if you are wanting…"

I just about choked on the last bite of toast. I was not ready for that—well, it wasn't a comeback, actually. She was accepting an offer. No, offering after a suggestion was made. Something like that. My brain was still trying reboot, and I saw that she knew too. That little smile. I shook my head, then took another sip from the hot chocolate. I choked back tears as I realised something about this gesture she'd done for me. The breakfast in bed.

The only other time I'd had that, I'd been in hospital.

I moved the tray aside carefully and climbed out of bed. I pulled her close, hugging her so tight, and whispered in her ear. "I love you so much. So much." I stood on tiptoes so I could rest my chin on her shoulder.

"I love you too," she moved to kiss my forehead, then brushed away the flyaways and bedhead. "But you should finish your breakfast. Especially if you want…"

"No. Not… not now." I shook my head.

"I understand," she gave me a little bow. Enough for the apron to hang loose. Enough that I saw down my dress she was wearing. That she wasn't wearing anything else underneath it. "But are you minding if I tease a little?"

I wanted to play along, so much. But I also didn't know what to say. I sighed and shook my head, then sat down on the bed, careful not to disturb the food. As I ate the rest of the food she'd prepared, I was treated to a slow and very, very suggestive dance. Oh, but I wanted to. I wanted to leap off the bed, and pin her down. Make her mine. But also, to let her know I was hers, and she could have me any way she wanted. I think she saw it my eyes.

She collected the dishes on the tray she'd used, then wiggled her hips for me as she moved to the door. "I will put these in the dishwasher, then come back. It gives you time decide, if you want—or to think of what else."

"Thanks." I couldn't help the hint of sarcasm. It really was hard to think of anything else after that display. She laughed—she understood me well enough.

–∞–

"And we'll skip the next… oh, thirty minutes or so of that adventure," I wink, and Joan's now giving me a vaguely disgusted look.

"Come on, mom." And that's with as much indignation as a fifteen year old girl can manage.

"Look, I know you don't like hearing about, even in reference," I spread my hands wide in front of me, trying to be placating. "But can I explain something?"

"Maybe…" it's very cautious. "It's not about what you two kept doing, is it?"

"No," I laugh softly. "It's not that, but talking about this will probably still make you uncomfortable, and that's okay. I just think, given all of this, I haven't explained something—that I learned about later—that's relevant to all this… umm… energy… that we had."

"Fine… it's—" she's searching for the right word. Or a perfect word. The way her fingers are pointing against each other. "Nope, can't think of the word."

"It was about my sexuality, and my sexual needs." I can see the way she cringes. I give her a chagrined smile. "I need to use that word, because it wasn't the same as the intimacy I was getting from Elsa—I'd never had true intimacy or vulnerability with a partner before. My sexuality, it wasn't… repressed. More like I'd felt like I was only doing it out of duty—moreover, out of fear. Like I had to. A chore. That was always horrible. It was never about me, or what I wanted, or my own satisfaction. Not for my own enjoyment. And even if I did it on my own, he made me feel ashamed for it.

"Elsa was different. So different, but you know that by now. She gave me time. Helped guide me into understanding what I wanted. From touching, and… more. I know, I know, I'm trying to keep the tone down for you. She never judged me for what I did—or didn't—want do. Well, maybe a little bit for being a fumbling mess at the start, but I was okay with that. We had fun. Elsa actually encouraged me to ask for what I wanted. To start things, and be bold about it. Like her.

"She encouraged me to embrace that side of myself. To acknowledge that yes, I actually liked sex, and that there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with me. It took me longer to accept that idea—and yes, you know why that was. But she was there for me. Never forced me to do anything. I know, I know, broken record when I say I'd never felt like that, and also maybe a poor comparison because I only had my time with him to compare with, but this was something completely new to me."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling a bit there." She gives me a little smile. "I think I get it though. It's still—well, I don't want to think about it. Sometimes you being so open about this is… uncomfortable."

"I know," I sigh softly, reaching over to give her a gentle hug. "But I won't hide who I am. Or who I was. Or what happened to me. And I'm still sorry I scared you with that one."

Joan gives me a weak, faltering smile. "I understand why you had to, with that one. Like, you kinda know, sort of, that these things… happen… but they happen to other people. Not you. Not to your mom."

I pull her tighter, closer. She doesn't struggle. "If it's still bothering you, we can talk about how to deal with those feelings."

She takes a deep breath, then slowly shakes her head. "No, I'm okay."

I let her move back to the other end of the couch. "So, distraction…?"

She nods.

–∞–

Elsa had tucked us in, then wrapped her arms around my waist. We dozed for a while, lost in our own worlds. It was nice to be able to do that. I had nothing to worry about. I could leave. I could stay. I could do things right here, and she would understand. I didn't have to explain myself for every little thing. And yet… it felt strange. Habits I was still having problems un-learning. But she helped me through. Supported me.

And today—today was something completely new. I'd never had a day where it was just about me. I had to accept that this was for me. That I didn't have to do anything else to keep it. That it wasn't some kind of ruse, or ploy, or plot. I hated that I still thought like that when good things happened between us. But I was getting better. A hand waved in front of my face.

"Oh, you're awake again?" I teased softly.

"Insatiable." She poked her tongue at me, then slowly tidied her hair with her fingers. "I had a plan for this afternoon too—I thought you could use one of those vouchers for Megeara's Spa I got for you."

"And you too," I smiled warmly. "We're supposed to gossip about stupid stuff at the spa, right? Can't do it without my best friend."

"Of course," she smiled brightly, then leaned over to kiss me. "But first we should get dressed. It is looking cold outside. I saw some snow while making breakfast."

"We could just stay in," I pull her back down on top of me, fingers brushing her naked hips. "You could do all the make-up and stuff on me…"

"I could," she laughed brightly. "But Meg's is much more than just make up. It's a proper spa, manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, all kinds of beauty treatments. The luxury experience to really treat yourself. Or your future wife."

"So sure of yourself there, miss Frostad-Christian."

She rolled over to kiss me. "I did wonder about surnames for the wedding invites." Her voice was still light.

I waved a free hand in the air. "Honestly, I was thinking about taking yours. Makes me sound more exotic and foreign."

"Anna…" she drew my name out like a curse, but she was laughing. Then she stood up, slowly getting dressed. Her tone became serious. "You would, actually, take my name?"

"I would." I smiled for her, pulling the covers up around my chest. "You keep claiming about the pants and everything, so I guess it fits…"

"Anna." She fixed me with a hard stare.

"Yes. I will take your name, miss Isabella Frostad." I just couldn't help myself. "What happens to it after I get it is anyone's guess."

I saw her facepalm.

"Sorry," I shook my head, then combed my hair with my fingers. "I guess I'm just a bit excitable about the idea. I don't know what a lesbian wedding looks like."

"Like any other wedding," Elsa turned to wink at me. "The only difference is we have two brides. And better sex on the honeymoon."

"Elsa!"

"What?" Her smile was the picture of innocence. "Go on…"

I sighed. "No, I deserve it. You're getting good at this."

"Sometimes you are making it easy for me." She handed me my underwear as I finally shuffled out of bed. "Come on. I am hoping Meg's is the right kind of luxury for you."

I'd been past the place a few times before. The facade was, well, hard to miss. Not many places do up a three storey building with full Ionian columns, frescoes, and a pair of brightly painted statues. I learned much, much later that plain marble would have been unlikely in Greece during that period. Ancient paint's not usually as weatherproof as stone, after all. There were a lot of bronze mouldings and fittings, polished to a high sheen. About the only modern thing was the door with the inset glass panels.

Inside it was dressed up just as much, with roman style couches arranged in pairs beneath what I had to assume were original oil paintings. Each painting depicted a scene from Greek myth. I wavered, torn between sitting and letting Elsa handle everything, or going up to the reception desk with her to enquire about the services—and the value of the vouchers. I sat, lying back, then let out a quiet breath. The couches really were very comfortable. I saw Elsa hold up a hand, then leave a voucher on the counter before coming over to me.

"What treatments are you wanting for your spa day?" She spread her hands wide in front of me.

"I don't know," I gave her something of a sheepish smile. "I've… well, I've never been to a beauty spa before."

"Oh," the look of surprise and acknowledgement was so cute. "Then… manicures, pedicures, facials, threading, waxing, massage, steam rooms, and… more things I cannot be remembering off the top of my head."

"That's a lot of things to keep track of," I gave her a skeptical look. "Maybe just a massage?"

"A massage?" She gave me a soft, questioning look. "Like ours, or with oil, or hot stones, or maybe some aromatherapy?"

"There's more choices?" I shook my head and laughed. "Like, those are all things?"

"Even more," she smiled, understanding now. "Though not like our special ones. You really have not—even once in your life—ever treated yourself, have you?"

"To something like this?" I looked down, until I felt her fingers lifting my chin. "I never would have thought of it."

"And a massage is all you'd like today?"

I gave her a nervous smile. "Maybe with some of the aromatherapy too. And the oil."

"Would you prefer a masseur or a masseuse?" I blanked. I couldn't remember the French well enough. Elsa rolled her eyes. "A man or a woman doing the massage?"

"Oh, umm…" Elsa facepalmed at my very indecisive answer.

Elsa motioned to me with both hands, then the reception desk. "Tell me, so I can tell them. I'm trying to handle as much as I can for you—"

"But I'm not making it easy, am I?" A chagrined smile for her. "A woman then, or a guy with a soft touch."

"Okay, I will tell them." She gave me a wink. "Final question: Do you mind if I am there?"

I gave her a look. "Why would I mind?"

"If you wanted some time alone—it is okay—or if you did not want me seeing you more naked."

My turn to facepalm. Then try to think. "You wouldn't just be there to ogle me, would you?"

She laughed softly. "It would not be allowed. I was considering a sports massage for myself. Some muscles are still sore. It would be a nice treat for me too. If you are there, I can talk with you."

"I guess we're both getting massages then," I lay back on the couch and stretched, trying to push my chest out for her. "So, I'll just wait here?"

"You are teasing," she poked her tongue out at me, just the tiniest bit. A flash of immaturity no one else would see. Something just between us. "The wait should not be too long."

It wasn't, really. My masseur was a young man, slim, with olive skin and short, dark, curly hair. His face seemed oddly soft, despite a pronounced nose. His voice was soft too, as he led me towards a massage room. Soft, but very animated. He spoke about what the massage involved, how the oil could stain clothes, and options for draping—towels, modesty wear, and so on—he also explained what he would and would not be touching, and that I could choose to restrict that even further. He also asked if really was okay with another client being there, even after I explained that she was my girlfriend—and he didn't even bat an eye at that.

I took my time undressing, placing my clothes in the little cubby provided, easily visible from the massage bed. The towels were in the same place, and I wrapped one around myself before lying down on the bed. There was a quiet knock at the door, followed by a voice.

"Anna, may I come in?" It was Elsa.

"Sure." I was lying face-down, so I couldn't see her. I felt her hand brush against my shoulder.

"If you do get uncomfortable, or… scared… like that, please, speak up." She kissed the top of my head. "I will be right there." I twisted slightly to look as she pointed to the other massage bed. "Right there. For you."

I blinked away a tear. "Thank you. And thank you for showing me this."

Another knock interrupted us. "Miss Christian?"

My masseur.

Another knock. "Miss Frostad?"

"Come in."

I learned a lot about massage following that, comparing it to my own fumbling attempts. I learned about scents from the aromatherapy, and that I like wood and ash, but wasn't fond of flowers. And that I associated citrus far too much with cleaning. But the wood scents were nice, especially a kind of cypress I forgot the name of. As the masseur gently kneaded my calf, I was surprised by how in the moment I felt. Feeling my breathing. My eyes were closed, so no sights to distract me. I could hear Elsa's masseuse speaking softly, but couldn't make out the reply. I felt the soft towel around me, the warm oil on my calf, and a very slight breeze wafting through the room. I knew the wood smell, and there was a hint of something in the oil. I had nothing to taste—for a moment my mind flashed to tasting Elsa—but I was still in the moment. Relaxed. Enjoying a totally new experience.

It was close. Intimate, almost, without being at all sexual in nature. Despite my memories of other massages, this was different. I liked it. Because I was so relaxed, I figured I could talk with Elsa—it was one reason she was there, after all. I talked about work, hoping things would pick up soon. She told me more about growing up in Norway, winter sports and exploring fjords when she was younger. We talked about the cartoon she was showing me, and how good it was. I asked if there was anything else like it. She told me there was entire sequel series. And also an actual anime, possibly the best ever, that explored dark themes, but was utterly amazing. I promised we could check it out, after finishing the cartoon series first.

I realised then—though I'd known it for a while—just how much of a future I wanted with Elsa. And it wasn't about the big things, like weddings, fancy parties, or wishes for a family. It was the little things. Moments like this. Spending time together watching cartoons—not something I would have done before I met her. Trying to teach her how to actually cook something. I knew she felt the same way too. The day really was amazing, and all for me. In hindsight, I really should have seen her next move.

"Anna?" Elsa voice broke through my reverie.

"Yeah?" It was half-slurred. I liked the way the masseur was working my shoulders.

"I said I would make today all for you—and instead of me cooking, I have made reservations at a restaurant."

"Very… umm…" My mind was drifting with the sensations around my back as well. "Very thoughtful."

"I was meaning to ask if going out for dinner was what you would be liking, or if you would like simpler arrangements tonight."

I tried to catch the hidden meaning there, but couldn't quite grasp it. I closed my eyes, then realised what she was actually asking if I was okay with. Did I want to get all dressed up, just to have dinner with her? I did. It also meant we would have to use the car—not so easy to keep an elegant dress tidy under riding leathers. But it all felt right. I nodded, then realised she probably couldn't see it.

"Yes, Elsa, I'd like to go on a date with you tonight." I turned to give her a devilish grin. It was her turn to blush. "Fancy dresses and everything."

The rest of the afternoon—well, another thirty minutes or so—was spent in a blissful state as the masseur worked around to the front of my body, stomach, arms, hands, and legs. All the while draped with little white towels so I didn't even feel naked. I'd had no idea simple massage could a) feel so good, and b) make forty-odd minutes feel like two hours—in the good way. I left Meg's as relaxed as I could ever remember, Elsa walking next to me, our hands and fingers entwined.

I smiled. I had a date night to look forward too. I glanced at Elsa. She smiled too, but it was slightly shaky. Was something wrong? It was only a flash, and when she saw my eyes her smile grew and her eyes almost sparkled. Maybe I'd just misread her excitement. After all, this was the first proper date she'd organised for us as a couple.

–∞–

"You're stopping right there?" Joan gives me an incredulous look.

"Because that dinner was important." I try to give her my best placating look. "It deserves its own space."

I can see the gears working. The way her fingers are pointing different directions. "You said she looked nervous. And excited. She did this whole day for you. And she asked about the dinner because… because it was for both of you."

I nod, a growing smile slowly spreading across my face.

Joan grins, and her eyes light up as she recalls something else I said. "And she asked, really casually, about surnames. You were teasing her, so it seemed like fits…"

I just smile.

Then I have half a second to dodge the cushion launched at me. I laugh, because yeah, she figured it out. All the pieces are there. I couldn't get it at the time, until you did it. Sometimes your subtlety was too good, you know? Mine, not so much.