She was running.

The soft glimmering of moonlight acting as the only source of light. Through dark woods, in the midst of night she ran. Pushing her way through the branches, the sharp twigs snapping at her face. Something comes in her way, she trips. She loses her balance. She falls to the ground. The dirt forces its way into her lungs. She tries to breath. She gets to her knees, grasping her chin. She’s bleeding. The gash is trickling blood down her face. She’s lightheaded. She stumbles backwards. Hands. She can feel someone’s hands on her. They seem familiar, painfully familiar, like out of a deep suppressed memory. The fear gets trapped in her throat. Sickness fills her stomach. She turns around. The knife. He holds it against her throat. His breath against her ear. “Don’t make a sound.”

Tina woke up screaming.

Bette was sleeping on her stomach, her head on the pillow with her arms stretched out towards Tina’s side of the bed. It was a hot night, so the need for covers wasn’t necessary. She was wearing the blue and white stripped pyjamas that she loved on Tina, especially since she never fully buttoned the shirt, giving her an all too good view of what lay underneath. Bette had nicked it out of her suitcase, and replaced it with an old sweatshirt of her own from her schooldays. The picture of Tina wearing that, and only that, had made her night even hotter, and Bette found her sleep to be anything but relaxing.

The insistency of the phone ringing woke her up. Bette glanced over at the clock. 3.49. Getting to the phone took a couple of minutes, seeing as she was more asleep than awake. The fact that she didn’t remember where she had put it also didn’t help.

“Hello?” Bette yawned out.

“It’s me.” Came the timid reply on the other side.

“Tee?

“Hey, babe”.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” Bette tried to rub the tiredness out of her eyes. “What are you doing up?”

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep.”

“Tina, what’s going on?”

“I just needed to hear your voice.”

Bette knew there was more, something that she was holding back. But given the early hour and her not so wakened state she decided to leave it be. She stifled another yawn. “When are you coming home?” She could hear the echo of water. “Is it raining?”

“Shooting is wrapping up tomorrow, I need to go over the budget and hand in my report. Then, I guess, I should be able to fly home. And no, it’s the shower.” Tina sounded tired, and she knew it. Her new work schedule, however much she loved her job, had become incredibly demanding during the last couple of weeks. Shaolin was in the final stages of filming Lez Girls, and they needed things to go smoothly. Tina’s workload had tripled in the process. Adding the hardship of working with Jenny and Kate, Tina was two steps away from throwing someone of a bridge. Preferably a certain writer.

Spending time with Angelica and Bette had been pushed down on the daily agenda, and she hated it. There was nothing more she wanted then to be able to play with her daughter and cuddle up close to her wife at night in their bed. Balancing work and home had become harder, but she was relentless on making it work. She was not quitting her job, she was too good, a high ranking asset at the firm, and she loved it. But, she knew that these business trips had to diminish in length as well as in number of occasions.

“Call me before you get in and I’ll come pick you up.”

“I have to swing by the office to drop off some paperwork. It’s better I meet you at home.”

Bette was lying on the bed now. Slowly running her hand through her hair, she straightened her legs and curled her toes, stretching the tiredness out of her body. Tina could hear her, listening intently to the soft noises she made.

“How’s my pj’s fitting you?” Tina purred softly.

Bette chuckled. “You noticed did you?”

“Upon finding a huge Yale shirt at the top of my luggage I kinda figured.”

“Oh, I love you in that. Actually I love you in anything.”

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that I’ve worn it to bed every night. It even smells like you.” Tina sighed happily, letting out a slow breath. “Mmm...”

Bette closed her eyes and surrendered her body to the image of Tina in her oversized shirt. She repressed a moan, somewhat unsuccessfully. “What ya thinking, babe?” The arousal in Tina’s voice was evident, it shone through her exhaustion.

“Of you. Of watching you walk around in that sweater of yours. Seeing your well shaped legs peak out from underneath. How I would love to have those thighs wrapped around me, hugging me tight. The feel of your skin on mine. Your hands in my hair. That’s what I was thinking. “