Solace & Taproots

2.14

Rebecca woke once in the middle of the night wrapped in someone else's warm presence for the first time since the day Jaime was killed. Maybe 'Rosie' had shifted or said something in her sleep, or someone had closed a door outside. All she heard now was background ambient sounds and soft little snores from Sam, no louder than a child might make. Sam was nestled up under her arm, head on Bex's shoulder as if it were a pillow. That left Sam's surprisingly deep red hair just below Rebecca's cheek, and it was a simple matter to kiss her on the head and take a long inhale of the chamomile and mint that, really, anyone's hair in the complex would probably smell like. But, she realized, wondering if she was imagining, that Sam's hair and her bedding also carried the faintest hint of... cinnamon? (How did that work??)

She regretted not being able to recall Jaime's scent, though she was sure even the slightest whiff would have brought it all crashing back. Though, given their relative heights, she was probably the midnight bouquet of that relationship. Hibiscus or jasmine usually, for the record.

She spent some time just soaking in the peacefulness that had been so long in coming, tears of relief brimming her half-open eyes. God, she knew she missed it, but didn't realize quite how badly until she had a taste again. Just 'sleeping' with someone earlier wouldn't have brought that tranquility... just a brief release and a whole lot of regret and guilt.

They both had that creative cleverness, and careful tenderness when she was vulnerable, but so many differences too — anatomical aside. Jaime always seemed to be striving to do better every day than the one before, even seeking to one-up his own efforts to please her. Sam... tonight's anxiety about losing her was the only glimpse Bex had seen of a crack in her otherwise seemingly boundless drive and momentum. His art captured the essences of a moment or subject in an enduring record, but her talents were in making complex constructs that would do things to the reality around them. Kind of an interesting opposition, though they were both marvelous. That. That was a similarity between them too. Unexpected surprises that intersected her life, converging vectors merging courses with hers into an entirely new one.

She even put a little thought into how different she herself was when entering each relationship, but soon realized there were so many external variables it was an exercise for the ages.

But, it was pretty easy to conclude that even if Jaime and Sam were so radically different to never have bonded with each other, they'd at least both approve of the other simply because of how much affection and care they poured into her. That thought made it easy to shift her awareness back, solely to the direct present she was experiencing. Her lovely dope of a dog sleeping by the door, the brilliant, compassionate, thoughtful wonderful person at her side, how cozy it was between the two sleeping bags above and below them...

**

Next thing Bex knew, she awoke with her heart racing as Sam was halfway through planting a line of slow lingering kisses down from behind her ear to her collarbone. A wordless gasp preceded functional speech, which prompted a very self-satisfied chortle from below her right ear.

"Wha... Whoa, Sam! Rosie... Jesus, what a way to wake up."

Red hair at the edge of Bex's peripheral vision shifted as the little trickster lifted her head and looked at her. "Good morning, sleepyhead. That should give you something nice to think about for the day."

Rebecca's breathing slowed as she woke the rest of the way up and her physiological responses were filtered through proper cognitive processes again. "Gods above and below, Rosie. How am I supposed to think about anything else?" (After a moment's reflection, she decided she liked how 'Rosie' sounded and felt to say.)

The only response she got was a playful shrug and a smile of lackadaisically feigned innocence. Anything further was interrupted by a knock on the workshop door.