Young Writers Society

Harry and Will had fallen asleep within thirty minutes of getting into the tub.  They evidently had needed the extra sleep and Harry was more than happy to spend the time in the water.  She had woken first, as she always did and was looking down on her lover once again.  A glance to her communicator on the bathroom sink revealed the time to be three in the afternoon, and for a moment she thanked the gods they hadn’t drowned.  The water had coursed through Harry’s system with a slight readjustment to her senses and replenishing the energy her powers needed.  Contact with water always helped but just being able to soak reset the system to a comfortable level.

Will had started to stir against her chest, mumbling out, “Mmm Harry, I don’t want to get up.”

Harry wasn’t a particular rush to get up either and ran her hands through Will’s hair once again.  In all honesty, Harry did have a slight obsession with Will’s unruly curls and being able to have her finger tips running through the locks.  Against the light orange and pink skin, the mass of green was a wild contrast from Will’s natural white-ish gray shade.  Harry had rarely seen what the light shade looked like.  Will had last worn it right around the time they began their relationship and the green appeared after Will moved into Harry’s apartment above the offices.  The shade had been gone since that time and there wasn’t a particular wish for the white hair to be back.

A light finger ran across Harry’s jaw, the tender voice once again bringing her back into the moment and the sweet lips matching their sweet owner.

“What are you thinking about, Harry?”

“Your hair.”

“What?”

“Your hair is a kind of gray and blond when you don’t have it dyed.  And I just wonder why out of all the options that you would choose green.”

“Don’t you dare fucking judge me, Harry Bivens, with the amount of Hawaiian shirts you have in your closet.”

Now that was fair.

Harry had no right to judge anyone about fashion choices, especially not Will and Robe.  By the standards of Zinnia, Harry was often reminded how her clothing could be called hideous.  And during visits to museums, she was especially reminded how what she wore was ancient history for Zinnian fashion.

“I’m not judging.  I’m just asking.  Why green?”

The stubborn look had crossed her partner’s eyes and Harry was soon doubting if she would receive an answer or not.  Will would often choose to not answer questions for a long period of time, looking away with a smug smile and then breaking into a fit of giggles when pressed for an answer.  Harry hated to think of the scenario where Will might ever be put before someone to be interrogated.

“Because it’s different and it makes me feel good about myself.”

“That’s good, my love.  That’s all that really matters, but this doesn’t mean I’ll stop teasing you about looking like a head of broccoli in a pencil skirt.”

“Yes, you do love my pencil skirts, don’t you?  Especially when I’m happening to be bending over someone’s desk and it’s not yours.”

Conversations like this weren’t encouraging Harry to get up and work.  She knew that she should have had the two of them out of the tub an hour ago, and they should have been rinsing off under the shower head.  The purpose of this bath was supposed to be about getting clean from the night before but none of that had happened during the initial thirty minutes.

It was doubtful to happen now.

“Will, as much as I would love to keep thinking about having you bent over a desk, I believe you are the one who suggested our need to clean up.”

A series of sighs came from the partner in front of her and soon the water was draining out from the tub.  Will stood up slowly, turning around to face Harry, giving a slight shake of her hips as she pulled the shower curtain back.  Harry stayed in her sitting position for a moment just observing the beautiful sight in front of her.  The pain from her legs was temporarily gone and any stiffness was residing elsewhere.

“Do you need my help to get up, old man?”

“You’re really going to insult me when you’re horny as hell.”

“I do have other ways of deriving sexual pleasure that is not based in you,” Will turned around as she talked, taking the cloth from the side of the tub and starting on her hair.  Harry maintained sitting while the feeling returned to her legs and she could manage to stand up.  There was a slight temptation to pull Will back to the tub floor with her, but Harry agreed to be at least slightly productive.

“I doubt you’re going to escape any thoughts of me, my love.  No matter how hard you’re trying to ride something else, I’ll keep popping up like the pesky lover that I am.”

Harry reached her arms around Will’s waist, running one hand down her partner’s left thigh and carefully sliding a finger in.  She was greeted with a moan and Will pushing back against her hips, the attempts at hair cleaning cleared away for a minute.  As Harry slid her fingers across Will’s most sensitive spots, she felt her partner growing closer and picked up the pace when urged on by a series of moans.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Shh, why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t think it would happen that quickly.”

They relaxed together, still standing and Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around Will’s hips and waist.

“I’m not complaining, my love.  Now let’s actually get cleaned up and then we’ll work on the mess downstairs.”

“Okay,” Will answered softly, along with a tender kiss and a sigh as they separated.

Harry pulled her own washcloth from the side of the tub and let the water continue to run over her skin.  The feeling of the soap washing off was so pleasant and calming, letting her relax and reset even further.

This was right where she wanted to be.

Forever.

-

Thirty minutes later, Harry had found her formal appearance once again and stood tall before the lack of wreckage in the second-floor office space.  The braces dug far enough into her leg to be a reminder that they were present today, but not necessarily needed.  Her suit jacket had a single unfortunate crease hanging along the side where Will had clutched her through dancing the night before.  The scuffs were gone from her dress shoes and the pants stiff as ever.

The perfect appearance for consulting with a new client in just three hours’ time.

A familiar click of Will’s heels was present on the stairs, soon followed by the greeting of, “Harry, how have you already gotten that all done?”

Harry tapped a finger against her forehead while saying, “Telekinetic, remember?”

It didn’t take much power to move all of the junk around, replacing the desks from the spare room into the center and arranging their correct forms.  With the promotion of Jim Harding to the fourth office, it meant that they would now have to find three secretaries for the upstairs.  And then bringing more detectives up to the second floor as well…

“Where has my wonderful Harry wandered off to in her mind?”

The question was followed by a series of kisses and Will pushing Harry onto one of the newly arranged desks.  A cup of pencils clattered against the finish, slowly rolling off the desk and clinking onto the wood floor below.  Harry felt the ink leaking out of a fountain pen – the smell and presence of liquid playing hell on her senses.  Ink was sometimes so heavy to be around and, in an office building it loved to meddle with her mind.

“Will, I know I haven’t been the most honest about me and my powers, but do you honestly want to know what my pain is about?”

“This sounds a little bit ominous but sure.  Why are you in pain at the current moment, my love?”

“The ink.”

Will stepped back away from the desk, pulling back down the pencil skirt that had found itself naturally hiked up.  Harry studied the careful secretary’s hourglass figure, running fingers along the neatly tucked blouse as Will carefully chose her words.

Harry wasn’t listening.

She had learned how rude it was to impose on her partner’s thought, but it was easy to judge Will’s movements.  Whenever her partner started thinking about something important the woman would shrink away slightly, head leaning back and tongue sliding quickly against her lips.  It was an image that Harry loved so much, and even though it would often come up before their fights and clashes, it was something that she looked forward to looking at.

“What do you mean by the ink?”

“I control different things with my mind, but I have a connection to water.  And ink is based in water.  And when I’m around present amounts of ink, it will sometimes cloud my thoughts and senses.”

“That makes,” Will paused to tilt her head once more and continued with a soft answer of, “some sense.  But why are you suddenly feeling it now.”

“Because, my love, when you pushed me back on the desk it cracked open a fountain pen.”

Will looked down to the side, noticing the pool of red ink on the floor and gave a small squeak.  With a quick glance over the side of the desk, Harry realized the issue with the ink color, quickly pulling Will back onto her lap.  With one leg still on the ground and one across Harry’s thighs, arms found their way behind Harry’s neck and was soon followed by a stream of kisses.

“Will?”

“Mmm?”

“I wasn’t aware that it was red when I made you go and look at the pool.  And besides, it’s a million shades too bright to be blood.”

The kisses against her neck turned into small huffs and Will’s perfect laughing.  Harry loved everything about Will and hated herself for every lie that she had ever told.  This was the time for her to start fixing all of the mistakes and making sure she would get to have another happy lifetime.  Harry would admit to the fact that she was getting old and she couldn’t think of anyone else she wanted to spend her (probable to most likely to god oh so definitely) last life with.

It was a fear.