Work Text:
It's a rotten day.
It's unseasonably cold, and it's been pissing it down all morning. Jean is sitting in the front room, curled up in a chair, underneath a blanket, still freezing her tits off, and it's not like she had much to spare to start with. The only good thing about today is that it's Sunday, and though MI5 is of course not actually closed, Jean is off. Sundays are Monty's domain, and there are credible reports of whole bottles of champagne in the middle of briefings and magnificent breakfast spreads. It is very hard to be surprised by it.
Maybe she would just go to work, were things different, but she's not alone in the house. It's not even her house, not really, but she didn't have her own house before she moved in with Hester. Right now living with Hester is cold comfort, because Hester's out. She had to go to the shops, and then she had to visit an ailing friend, and she had to go basically everywhere in bloody England except Jean's vicinity.
Hester is allowed to go places. That's not the point. It would never be the point. The point is that Jean is cold and pathetic and sad and just wants to be held, needs to have someone- not just anyone, a specific someone- right next to her skin, someone who knows how to cut through and just undo everything that has her so stuck, gummed up into a ball, so that Jean can untwist and unfurl, come apart into a neat pile of sorted, orderly pieces, arranged just so, understood.
But that's not happening, so she just stares moodily out the window and mutters darkly to herself. This is ridiculous. She doesn't deserve such treatment.
She's not sure how long she sits there; it's probably less than twenty minutes, but she's not counting it or looking at the clock. She swears it's getting even colder in here. Stupid weather. The whole thing is mocking her. Never should have-
"Jean, are you alright?" Hester asks suddenly, from above Jean's head, and Jean looks up to see Hester frowning down at her in concern.
"No," Jean says petulantly, deliberately looking away.
She's perfectly aware that, by saying that, she has activated Hester the Fixer, who will not leave a problem unsolved if there is literally any other option. Other people categorize this version of Hester as a mother hen, but that's not how Jean feels; her view is colored by the fact that people only do to their mothers what Jean does to Hester in ancient mythology, but that's not really the point. Either way, she's in for it now. It is kind of what she wanted. Hester's not going to be in the mood to take her bullshit or start a fight, just focused on getting from A to B, and while Jean might want to kick up a fuss, she really just wants Hester to put everything right.
She hates it when it feels like Hester is her mother. She doesn't even have a word for how it feels when Hester wants to take care of her simply because Jean is hers and she loves her. She certainly does not hate it.
"What is the nature of your problem?" Hester says, precise, stern, very tall. Fuck, Jean loves how tall Hester is. Hester goes mad for it when Jean engineers ways to make her feel smaller, tells her to get on her knees or makes Hester sit and not get up while Jean stands or straddles her lap, and Jean does spend a good amount of time thinking up new ways to pull it off. But Jean can't get enough of just standing beside her, looking up at her, getting to admire the set of her jaw, a secret side of her that other people don't get to look at. Jean isn't done being out of sorts, but Hester is weakening her resolve.
"Well, it isn't your monthlies," Hester says, like she's going down some mental Well-Being: Leslie, Jean G checklist, though in fairness, Jean never actually answered. "You haven't been coughing, your appetite seems normal-" She presses the back of her hand to Jean's forehead, and Jean wriggles- "and you don't feel like you have a fever. Are you hungry, tired, or experiencing any headache?" Jean shakes her head. "That suggests to me a cause requiring an emotional solution."
Hester is studying her like a puzzle, like a box that needs to be unpacked and sorted, but Jean has already figured out that this is how she shows her love. Love is a sentiment, but action is how it's proven; Hester is excellent at noticing what people need and having it for them before they even realize it's missing, but when she doesn't have that data, she doesn't stand by.
"Would you like me to go away and leave you alone?" Hester asks.
"No," Jean says sulkily.
"Do you need to talk?" Hester suggests, and the way she says it grabs something within Jean, how soft she sounds, how genuine. Jean shakes her head, unable to respond. "Do you want to curl up together and listen to the wireless?"
"Sounds boring," Jean says, out of sheer meanness.
"Ah," Hester says, like everything has just now clicked into place. Other people would be annoyed at having their time wasted, but Hester's little satisfied smile shows exactly how she really feels about it. "So it's that, then."
"It's what?" Jean says, raising an eyebrow.
"Jean, it's not good form to play pretend when there's real work to be getting on with," Hester says. She unbuttons her cuffs, rolling her sleeves up with deliberate, precise motions. "Having exhausted all the other things it could be, you know exactly what you really want to ask for. You know what you need from me to set you right, and you get nothing until you say it clearly, out loud. Strong ladies ask for what they need."
Jean's mouth is dry. She had no idea that's what she even wanted, but now it's all she can think about.
"It's very rude not to respond in such a situation, Jean," Hester says, when Jean can't find the words. "We are both party to this arrangement, and it does require cooperation. Perhaps I'd rather go and-"
"No," Jean says, grabbing Hester's hand. "Hester, don't."
"You only have to speak the words," Hester says. "But if you won't ask, I can't help you."
Now it's all Jean can think about, how incredibly good it'd feel, how much she'd love it if she just let Hester have her, take her to bed and fuck her until she fell to pieces.
When Jean found out Hester didn't come as standard, her genuine first thought was to marvel at the fact that this hadn't happened to her already. Jean bears a well-known affliction of short women: her type is Amazons who wouldn't notice her if she were on fire. If she kept falling for every woman over six feet, it was really just a matter of time.
And at first, she'd compromised, the way you would for someone you couldn't possibly stand to let slip out of your fingers once you finally got even a sliver of a chance. Jean really didn't want to interact with a penis as long as she lived, and Hester had been so perfectly understanding, offered other choices she liked that it turned out Jean was very into. And then they were in bed one day, and Hester looked so-
She has this way of looking like it'll all overtake her, like Jean is just too much to withstand, like she'll lose all her decorum and just collapse, become nothing but a broken heap, a woman stripped to her barest parts, and Jean lives for it. She might have felt triumphant once, like Hester deserved to be shaken out of it, but now she knows that Hester deserves it, deserves to be treated like the beautiful creature she is, perfect and flawed and everything Jean will ever need.
Something came over Jean that she couldn't explain, and she just sort of put her mouth on Hester's cock.
Jean didn't even know if that's what Hester preferred to call it. She couldn't picture the word cock coming out of Hester's mouth. Hester was the kind of person who used words like "downstairs" and "gentleman's area". Would it be her "lady's area"? Jean was not going to call it that.
But Jean was licking it, from base to tip, no experience and no idea what she was doing. It didn't seem to matter at all, because Hester let out this delicate little shriek, a sound Jean had never heard before but knew she had to hear again, and then started begging for Jean not to stop, never stop, stay with her forever.
Afterwards they lay in bed; Hester had the blankets up to her neck and kept looking around like she was searching the room for something. Jean just lay beside her feeling godawful. She'd gotten carried away. She'd spooked Hester so badly by crossing the line that it was entirely possible that this was over. She always did something like this. She was always too much for everybody, too brash, too loud, too ready when the situation required being circumspect. Now she'd done something she couldn't undo, done something unforgivable that there was no coming back from.
"Hester," Jean said, and Hester startled, staring at Jean like she was shocked to see her there. "I'm so sorry."
Hester squinted at her, and Jean swallowed hard. "I do apologize for snapping at you. It's just that you did forget your pocketbook twice in a row when you said you'd pay, and it was right after I had to pay that fee to the council-"
"No, Hester," Jean said, despairing a little. "You know what I'm talking about. What just happened. In bed. Just now. When I, you know. Out of nowhere, without your permission?"
"What?" Hester said, perfectly baffled. "You- Jean, I don't understand what you're getting at."
"You don't usually hide under the blankets and act like you're worried somebody is lurking in the shadows after we have sex," Jean said.
"Oh," Hester said, like she was snapping out of it. "Oh, I'm sorry, my love. It was so unexpected, but-" She sighed like she was reliving the moment. "I enjoyed it so much that I think it made me a bit paranoid."
Jean snorted, but she rolled over, snuggling up to her. Hester was so odd. As long as she was odd and Jean's, they made a matched set. Jean couldn't help but be odd and Hester's.
In the present, Hester folds her arms. "I'm sorry, Jean, if you don't want to say it, I'm afraid that you're simply not as desperate as you need to be. Why don't I make you a nice cup of tea, and we can sit at the table-"
"Hester," Jean complains. "Don't be such a-"
"I'd think very carefully about whatever you're going to say next," Hester says archly, though it's very clear that she's enjoying this.
Just sitting here and moping is very tempting, but Hester has a way of figuring out what she needs when Jean just can't get there. It does sound just right, being overwhelmed and put in her place. They play both sides with that stuff, because naturally, they don't like the same things. Jean likes being held down, being driven out of her mind, not given a choice about what she is or isn't going to do. She likes to be exhausted at the end, drained and content, nothing left in her except pleasant nothingness, thoughts about how Hester is so unbelievably pretty, always so put together, with a mouth that demands to be kissed.
"Fine," Jean says, rolling her eyes. "I want you to take me to bed."
"And what am I meant to be doing when I get there?" Hester says. "You must be specific about these things."
Jean doesn't want to be doing this. Hester already knows. This is stupid.
"If you don't ask, you don't receive," Hester reminds her. "I'm uninterested in making you grovel or beg unnecessarily. I need a directive. I'm not intending to give you many choices afterwards. I need instructions."
Hester is so precise, but in the way a stiletto under the chin to lift your opponent's face is precise. "Please fuck me," Jean says.
"Do you want it quick and hard, or do you want it slow and sweet?" Hester asks, like it's a perfectly normal thing to say, like she's asking about how Jean takes her tea.
"Is hard and slow not an option?" Jean pushes.
"I am an old lady, Jean," Hester says wryly. "But I'll see what I can do."
"I don't want to be able to think," Jean says.
"There we are," Hester says, her face softening. She cups Jean's chin in her hand. "You're such a good girl, Jean. You make me very proud, my dearest." She lets go, and Jean sighs. "Now come along. I'll not give it to you out here. Last time-" She shakes her head. "Doesn't bear thinking about."
Trying to do it on the sofa had gone incredibly poorly. It seems so easy, a perfectly natural idea. Jean had been taking the active role, Hester kneeling in front of her, holding onto the back of the sofa and looking delicious in only the foundation garment she wore to the event they'd just come from. Jean had been thinking about this all night long, how much better than some boring party it'd be to come home and really spend some time on her best girl.
What came next is disputed, but Jean insists that once she got to work- which Hester was loving, mind, begging Jean for more and telling her how much she wanted it, how only Jean could make her feel this way, and in context is it any wonder Jean got a little bit overzealous?- the entire sofa moved with a particularly hard thrust. Hester made a particularly sexy noise, followed by an extremely unsexy noise, her head smacking into the wall.
Hester was cross but fine. The wall was not.
Jean considers making Hester force her, challenging her until she bullies Jean into the bedroom, but right now it seems like such a pain in the arse. Being a good girl who just needs a hard fuck to set her back to rights is so much more appealing than putting up a fight.
Hester offers her hand, and Jean takes it, letting Hester pull her up and press a kiss to her forehead. She puts an arm around Jean's waist, and Jean rests her head on Hester's shoulder, letting Hester walk her to the bedroom.
"You are in a state, aren't you," Hester says. "I'm afraid there's simply nothing for it, Jean. I am just going to have to pin you down and have my way with you. I'm sorry, but nothing else is going to make you satisfied in exactly the way you need it."
Hester does really poorly with conventional dirty talk, shrinks back from it in exactly the way you'd expect of her. But the way she can just say things matter of factly, like there's no threat to it, only promise, just statements of absolute fact, just does something to Jean when she hears it.
They're almost to the bed when Hester lets her go, walking away without looking back. "Off with all of it, please," she says, taking off her pearls, her matching earrings, and the little gold bracelet that Jean gave her. That's the extent of it, and then she stands there and waits. It makes Jean feel small; she is small next to Hester, but also Hester is just more than her. She's confident and self-assured, ruthlessly efficient and effortlessly attractive.
All of this goes completely differently when they swap, when Hester is Jean's pretty girl to play with to her feral little heart's content. But for now, it's all completely true and real and obviously the way it will always be forever.
Jean strips gracelessly, presenting herself for Hester's gaze. Hester looks her over, carefully cataloguing her, judging, looking for her disimprovements from the last time. It's horrible and nerve-wracking, and next time Jean swears she's going to tell Hester to never, ever do this again-
"Perfect, just as expected," Hester says, as always, and Jean relaxes. "Then again, I don't know how someone like you could possibly fail inspection. Anyone giving you less than perfect marks has obviously never met you, nor have they been privy to any of your charms."
It's too much, and Jean wants to protest; before she can do anything like that, Hester slips her hand between Jean's legs and starts rubbing her clit, and her thoughts get washed away immediately. Hester has so much ammunition she could use against Jean, one of the many reasons it was stupid to get involved with her. However, Hester seems completely uninterested in any of that. She's much more invested in how she can use what she knows to make Jean come five or six times in one night.
Hester leans down and kisses her, soft and light, fleeting, once, twice, then pulls away. Jean really wants to chase after her, but especially with Hester still wearing shoes, it's a lost cause. She steps back, making a shooing motion. "On the bed, Jean. You really do seem out of sorts, and you won't make it easier on yourself by dawdling."
"Why would I want to make it easier?" Jean says.
Hester gives her a little smirk, but then she takes Jean by the shoulders and turns her, giving her a tap on the bum to send her on her way. "And I want you face down on your stomach, please."
Jean tries not to moan, but she knows how this is going to go now. Hester's overwhelming preference is for Jean on top of her, completely in control of the act even when she's not in control of the whole event. If this is how Hester wants her, she wants something very different, and it makes Jean's belly feel like it's pooling with warmth.
Jean does as she's told. She bunches up a pillow, resting her chin on it rather than her face. She can hear the sound of Hester undressing, and it seems unnecessarily cruel not to let Jean watch. It feels like ages before she finally feels Hester join her on the bed. At first, she just sits down next to Jean, stroking her back, admiring her.
"Do you want me to be cruel, or do you merely need me not to stop?" Hester asks, like the question is perfectly neutral. The strangest part of it all is that by now, between them, it is. If Jean wants, Hester will treat her roughly. They both know it's a game, an act, and it's all okay.
"Cruelty would sort of ruin it, I think," Jean says, because the other side is fine too. "Just-" She stops, considering her words. "Handle me."
Hester kisses her shoulder. "I can most certainly do that," she assures her. "Now spread your legs wider. You haven't left me enough room."
Jean laughs softly and does it, and Hester climbs into bed with her. She stretches herself out over Jean, so much bigger than her that it feels like Hester will swallow her up, devour her entirely. She puts one hand around Jean's wrist, and Jean can't help but moan just a little, when it feels so good to be caught.
"Yes, my dearest," Hester says. "Just give in and let me have you. You know how good it's going to feel."
"Yes," Jean says, biting her lip when Hester starts kissing her neck. "Please, Hester, I need you so badly. I'll die if I don't have you inside me."
"Quite the change of attitude, Miss Leslie," Hester says, just to tease her.
"As long as it's you, who cares?" Jean says.
Hester groans, biting Jean's shoulder. "Oh, Jean."
"Please," Jean says again, trying harder, more desperate by the second. Hester starts touching her, fingers stroking over her labia, gathering up her moisture before rubbing her clit. It's so good, but Jean needs so much more, can't rest until she feels Hester inside of her.
"Hester, please," Jean begs. "I'll do anything you want. Please just fuck me. I need you so badly that I want to scream."
"You're awfully demanding," Hester says. "I shudder to think what would happen if everyone knew what you sound like like this."
"Right now I'd let them air it on the wireless if you'd only fuck me," Jean says. "Please, please-"
"Stop," Hester says, and Jean groans in frustration. She slides her fingers into Jean's cunt, not bothering to go slow, just giving it to her how she needs it, and Jean gasps, clutching at the sheets.
"You poor, poor thing," Hester says, sounding genuine, no trace of mocking in it. "You must feel awfully out of sorts." Jean just grumbles. "You've come to the right place, my dear. I'll make everything better."
It's a ridiculous thing to say in context, but Jean relaxes. Hester always knows how to make everything better. She can just take Jean and unknot her, make everything snap back into place like a chiropractor. The method isn't always taking her to bed and fucking the daylights out of her. That's just sort of a bonus.
Hester turns Jean's head and kisses her properly, firm, solid, and Jean melts into it, giving it all up to her. The kiss isn't long enough, and once again she tries for more. Unfortunately, Jean is the wrong way round, with a full grown woman on top of her. It's never happening.
Hester kisses her shoulders, her neck; Jean wants to beg, to do anything that will get Hester inside her. She's looking for the words, but nothing coherent wants to come out, and Hester doesn't seem like she's in the mood to make her suffer. Jean is still stuck at moaning and whimpering when Hester starts pushing into her, deliberate but not taking it slow, her cock spreading Jean open exactly how she needs it.
"There we are," Hester says, as Jean moans into the mattress, feeling like every inch of her is full of warmth. Hester always knows how to fix her; everybody stumbles in the everyday world, but in the comfort of their bed, there's never any question. "Just take it, my beautiful girl. Just give in."
And then Hester puts her hands on Jean's shoulders, pinning her firmly against the bed. "Fuck," Jean breathes. "Yes, Hester, please, I need you-"
Jean cries out as Hester starts fucking her; she feels like she's needed it for weeks, for months, even though it most definitely hasn't been that long. The end of the anticipation, like itching on her skin, feeling like she'd never be put right, is almost as good as sex all on its own, but that most certainly doesn't mean Hester gets to stop here.
"Oh God," Jean pants. "Oh, Hester, yes, yes, just like that, you always know what I need."
"Of course, darling," Hester says, her voice gentle despite the fact that she's fucking Jean like the world's about to end. "I have to take care of my Jean, or else what kind of use am I?"
A part of Jean still thinks that's a fucked up way to think about a romantic partner, though she knows it's a difference in generation that just can't be reconciled. That part is absolutely absent right now. Jean is very committed to the rights of women, but she's also a lesbian, and right now her whole brain is consumed with the idea that a big lady is holding her down and promising to protect her. It satisfies her all the way to her core, and she'd do anything Hester asked her for right now.
But all Hester is asking is for her to hold still and take it all, and Jean goes boneless underneath her.
"Good girl, Jean," Hester says, thrusting into her harder. Jean just makes a pleased noise and closes her eyes. She's so glad she finally came around to doing it like this, because Hester is perfect, so good at giving her everything she wants. Imagine if they wasted natural talent like that on a man. Doesn't bear thinking about.
Jean giggles without meaning to; she's just feeling loose and happy and nothing matters but feeling good. Hester is not being gentle with her, but that's exactly what she wanted, Hester driving her into the bed over and over again, never letting up even when Jean is just lying there, feeling all of it.
Hester laughs breathlessly. "And now I know you must be enjoying yourself."
"I can't have been hiding it well," Jean says. Hester is moving so easily inside her, fucking in and out of her so hard but so smooth, and Jean's so wet that that by now, she must have dripped all over the bed, made it so very, very obvious that she's done for, that Hester could keep her just like this forever and all she'd have to do to enforce it is ask nicely.
"You aren't," Hester says, and she does something with her hips that makes Jean moan, bucking back against her. "Wouldn't it be so counterintuitive if you were?" She bends down over Jean, speaking into her ear, and Jean feels like she'll either come or die, either one being fine. "I couldn't give you what you need if you didn't make it so obvious how desperately you want it."
Jean makes a noise deep in her throat. "I'm so desperate for you I forget how to breathe."
Hester doesn't manage to stay unaffected by that one; her hips hitch, and when she gains her composure, she starts fucking Jean harder, like she means to really deliver on what she promised.
"You should be careful, saying things like that," Hester says. "I'm not going to give you back, you know. Now that I've got you, you're mine for good."
"Yes," Jean sighs, surprising herself and probably Hester too. Jean likes to push back, make Hester work for it, but right now she doesn't want to do it even in jest. She's just so tired, and fighting doesn't sound like fun. "I'm all yours. Take me however you want. You can have everything. I just want you inside me over and over."
Hester responds by pulling away, and Jean cries out, distraught. "On your back," Hester says, already grabbing her hips to make her turn. Jean all but bounces when she lands, but she has no time to think about it; Hester puts her hands on her hips and pulls jean sharply to her, pressing inside of her again, fucking her hard and deep, exactly right. Jean cries out so loudly that it's almost a scream, but she can't be blamed, not when it's perfect, not when she feels like a lock springing open for a key. She's looking up into Hester's face, and Hester looks transported, overwhelmed, ready to beg, to be begged for anything.
Jean sighs, reaching up and putting her hand on Hester's face, because all she can think about is how beautiful Hester is, how simple and clean and perfect it is when there's nothing else in the world but her. She's everything Jean wishes she knew how to be; Hester wouldn't use her, doesn't have it in her nature, but even if she were to, Jean would roll right over and thank her for the privilege.
Hester laughs softly, but Jean doesn't know why. "My love," Hester says, kissing the palm of her hand. "Let's get you taken care of."
Jean doesn't know how she could be more taken care of. She feels like she's floating, like the only tether she has to the ground is Hester inside of her. She wraps her legs around Hester's waist to keep her close, never, ever wanting the two of them to be separated ever again.
Hester adjusts, changing the angle, and Jean tosses her head back, moaning. The angle is just right, and Jean realizes she's so much closer than she thought. "Hester," Jean sighs.
"I'm right here," Hester says, though she's out of breath. "Come along, darling."
Jean's so close, but she isn't quite there. She works her hand between them, getting her fingers onto her clit, rubbing it quickly. Hester pulls out some last reserve of strength, fucking into her hard and fast even though the strain is obvious on her features. She bites her lip, frowning in concentration like nothing else in the world could possibly be more important. Jean moans, incoherent, broken, coming so hard around Hester's cock that her brain goes entirely blank for a moment, nothing left, everything wiped out except for sheer pleasure, absolute contentment. There is no possibility that anything could be wrong, that anything has ever been wrong, that there could ever be anything or anyone in the world that could stand between the two of them, when everything about them is right.
Hester is obviously not there yet, whether she's holding back or just needs more, and Jean throws her arms around her and pulls her down against her, encouraging her with her body. Hester doesn't say anything; she's obviously flagging, and Jean's ready to do anything at all that she needs.
"Oh, Hester," Jean says. "Fuck. I'll do anything. Just tell me what to do for you. Please, I just want to see you come, you're so pretty when you lose control." She runs her hands up Hester's sides. "You're so beautiful, Hester. Come on, come for me, please, Hester-"
Hester's body goes tight when she comes, suspended there for a long moment, but then she lets out a sigh, the tension releasing. Jean pulls her close, not letting Hester get away, though Hester does manage to turn them to the side, hating to feel like she's crushing Jean afterwards.
It's so warm now, and Jean just lays there, moaning softly for a while. Whatever was knotting her up has entirely given way, and she feels boneless and calm. Hester lays next to her, stroking her hair, watching her, the most tender expression on her face.
That Hester is capable of even that much is a bloody miracle. Hester is an inveterate romantic, but that natural inclination has to share space with many decades of being in charge of everyone's problems, anticipating everyone's needs, solving issues before anyone even knows they're there to be solved. It rewired her mind, but it never could change who she really was inside. It's up to her to fix Jean when she's out of sorts because Jean has entrusted portions of her well-being to Hester- which is truly for the best, given how Jean handles herself when left to her own devices.
What that means on this occasion is that Hester's hips and back are protesting quite forcefully regarding how hard and how long all that business went on, and she will be in for a long soak later. Oh well. Couldn't be helped. Jean needed help, and of course Hester was never going to leave her wanting. Why would she want to? Jean is beautiful and so strong and, to be frank, needs all the help she can get. She's not Hester's burden. She's Hester's charge, like a knight coming home from battle, needing to be properly taken care of by her lady.
Hester also does not lose sight of the fact that it is a miracle that Jean is interested in her sexually at all, especially like that. She would have been quite content to never ask Jean to even touch her private area; Hester doesn't like touching it most of the time, hides it away so she can look like she's something approaching normal. But Jean, she- like there just wasn't a difference when it came down to it, like it was so much more important to make Hester feel good than to get caught up in the biology of it all, even when Hester was quite sure that point had been settled.
Hester's gotten very distracted, writing her little paean to Jean in her head, so much so that when Jean starts talking, Hester startles a bit.
"What do you want next time?" Jean asks, with a sneaky grin. "I think it's your turn."
Jean doesn't like to plan her own torment; it really detracts from the experience. Hester, on the other hand and not at all surprisingly, has these ideas, presented to Jean like little vignettes. It's so unbelievably cute. Jean can't tell Hester that. She might stop doing it.
Hester's face flushes. "I might have been developing some ideas."
"Tell me everything," Jean says. "I want to make it particularly good, since you gave me exactly what I needed."
"Well," Hester says. "There is something." Jean looks at her with big, eager eyes, and Hester cracks for the dozenth time. "I was very much enjoying that time on the sofa until the unfortunate incident."
"Hmm," Jean says, thinking about the evening, trying to analyze it Hester style. "I remember we went to that party for Monty, as if he really needed another excuse to play peacock." She nudges Hester playfully. "You really enjoyed that punch they were serving."
"Punch is a charitable name for whatever that was," Hester says. "It may well have been nothing but pure alcohol with a splash of grenadine." She sighs, sounding defeated. "Unfortunately, it was delicious. I fear I might have made a spectacle of myself."
"You were adorable," Jean says. "I don't think anybody but me realized you were lit. You just sat in your chair and swayed a little bit every now and again, and you wouldn't let go of my hand."
"Well," Hester says. "Apart from the swaying, I think that's all rather defensible."
"And then I poured you into the car and brought you home," Jean says.
"Yes, I remember everything after that much more clearly," Hester says. "There are advantages to being completely drunk already ten minutes after we arrived."
Jean snuggles up closer. "What I mostly remember about it was you being very much in the mood."
"It seems foolish to pretend I wasn't," Hester says. "It felt very-" She pauses. "Liberating."
"Yeah, there's the spirit," Jean says.
"I do not want to actually go to a party," Hester says, somehow looking at Jean over her glasses even though she's not wearing any.
"Do you want to actually be drunk?" Jean asks.
Hester considers her words. "Lightly sauced," she says, and Jean snorts. "One stiff one. Just enough to feel, you know. Relaxed and just a little bit libertine."
Jean grins. "And then take you back to my place and have my wicked way with you?" she suggests.
"Where your place equals a different room in our house, yes," Hester says. "I do think that if we move the sofa out from the wall and brace it, we can avoid the whole issue."
"Shouldn't be a problem, I don't think," Jean says. "And you know I've got the rest of it more than covered."
"I'd suggest that humility would be more becoming of a lady," Hester tells her, "but you might do something ghastly like stop."
"Never," Jean says, kissing her soundly. "You can be demure enough for the both of us."
"Oh, I know that I can," Hester says. "I really don't think it's your favorite side of me, though."
Jean laughs. Outside it's raining even harder, the temperature dropping a few more degrees. It's not going to warm up until well into the morning, and it's not even properly nightfall yet. The day, as a whole, as the shared experience of this area of Britain, during a war, when everyone knows that everything could go wrong and also that they all have to be at work in the morning, is not going to get any better.
But nobody's in here but Jean and Hester, and if anybody comes to the door, neither of them are inclined to open it. Perhaps they'll lounge around together for the rest of the day, maybe end up back in bed. Nothing is stopping them right now, and nothing will be stopping them until morning.
They don't have the materials here to brace the sofa, which a shame. Then again, it would be a far greater shame to blow through all their best ideas at once.