War and Peace and Pancakes

Homes and Hearts

The house was quiet, still. Though it was filled with Sam's energy, as if she charged it while being awake and left the air crackling with the memory of her presence when she was gone or sleeping. Urdu had been gone for weeks with a team of her fighters. Hunting through realms, cleaning up messes that shouldn't be where they found them but finding no solid leads on what they needed. Always one step behind whatever was coming for them.

Her armour shimmered off of her as she padded silently through the living room, pausing to pick up a stuffed recreation of a donut, though the thing had eyes and limbs. She was exhausted but restless and despite knowing exactly where Samantha and Timothy were, she shifted silently through the house, taking in every piece of evidence of their life these past weeks.

The life that she had missed.

Despite her weariness, her blood still sang with the rush of battle, keeping her awake and leading her into Samantha's room. She paused at the bedside table that was lined with the silly little spoons Urdu had picked up for her as she had travelled, hunting down Tim's target list. The heads had been just as much a gift for Sam, so that Tim wouldn't be away as often, but it wasn't a gift that Sam would appreciate getting.

So she had given her collectible tourist spoons and a waffle maker.

Urdu found herself grinning as she picked up a scattering of stickers, straightening them and placing them on the witch's desk. She brushed her fingers over them and inhaled the scent of Samantha here before she turned and finally made her way into the main bedroom. Tim didn't sleep, but there were times when he relaxed enough into his contact with the witch that he almost seemed to, his body in perfect repose. He lay on his back, Samantha half on him, her head on his chest, his arm around her.

In the crook of Tim's other arm was the teddy bear Samantha had bought on their last outing together, sporting the bracelet she had given the witch. It was an explanation for why she hadn't been getting as strong a connection with Samantha as she was with Tim.

Urdu paused, knowing Sam would only call her a worry wart if she tried to explain to the witch why it was important to wear the thing. The witch and the vampire had a connection, they sometimes seemed as one mind. But Urdu didn't have that with them, her only way of feeling them was through those bracelets and the tattoos that she had hidden within the ink she had put on Timothy.

She sat down in the easy chair in the corner of the room, leaning back as she summoned her sketchbook and began to finish one of her drawings of the two of them. At times like these, they were perfect, just the two of them. At times like these she believed she was capable of love, as opposed to just feeling other people's.

But it was also something sacred she couldn't bring herself to defile with her own presence. She loved the two of them individually but together, they took her breath away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tim's voice caused her heart to twist deliciously, her eyes lifting to see him watching her. Just as she thought he wouldn't dare do more than glare at her, he ducked his head down and kissed Samantha's forehead, whispering intimately to the witch, "Sammy. Wake up."

"Don't." Urdu whispered softly, putting her book to the side as Samantha blinked a couple times before sitting straight up, staring at her with the grogginess of sleep. "I was trying not to wake you."

"You're back!" Despite the fact that the witch wasn't gifted with supernatural speed, she was up and jumping across the bed towards her, only to trip up in the covers. Urdu was on her feet and catching Sam before she tumbled painfully to the ground, finding herself tackled back into the chair.

Sam's embrace was fierce, shaking her head and holding on to her as if Urdu was a life preserver. Or perhaps, as if Urdu's life depended on it. Sam's power thrummed through her, the light side of it crackling over her skin in delightful waves of pain and the dark side of it crashing through and into her, causing her to gasp ever so slightly, "Urdie... I don't wear it because we don't need it... you just think too much... and when you think too much it makes you sad. I feel you... I knew you were safe. I taught Tim how to feel you too." Sam was near tears as she spoke, buzzing with happiness at the same time as aching with some sort of sadness that Urdu couldn't qualify.