One Day at a Time, Chapter Five -- Desperate Housewives
One Day at a Time
Chapter Five
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairing: Bree/Katherine
Rating: PG-13, at least at the moment
Format: Chaptered
Summary: Katherine moves in with Bree to help her quit drinking, and learns there are a few things she herself could use help with as well.
Note: Work-in-progress.
One Day at a Time
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning Katherine wakes up slowly, feeling like hell. She wasn't drinking last night, for obvious reasons, but as she falls back on the pillow, it occurs to her that she feels hung over anyway, which leads to some interesting questions: did she cry herself into dehydration? Or are hangovers attributable at least in part to the psychosomatic effects of guilt? If her head's pounding and her mouth tastes sour and cottony, is it just because she's pretty sure she embarrassed herself half to death last night, and her body's trying to distract her from thinking about it?
The smell of fresh baked goods is wafting up from the kitchen. Katherine sniffs; blueberry muffins, or maybe scones. Bree is making her muffins. Perfect. That'll smooth over all the rough edges this morning, blueberry muffins. Or scones. Maybe scones will fix it. Bree, of course, would know.
The irony is that Katherine is far more ashamed of the things that didn't happen last night than of the things that did. She's not feeling great about crying herself out on Bree's shoulder, but she can deal with that. In a way, it was a relief. Katherine has never known how to let her guard down with other people, but that doesn't mean that the façade she's had to don to keep up appearances hasn't been taxing at times. Katherine has always hated those acrid, choking sobs that rip through her in private, when cooking and cleaning can't dam the tide any longer -- but more than the crying, even, she's hated the aloneness. Those moments often find her clutching small Dylan's teddy bear to her chest, feeling all at once how empty a gesture it is and how impossible it is even to imagine putting it down. So there are benefits to having an actual human being there to hold you as you cry.
No, Katherine figures she can handle the crying part of last night okay. The part she doesn't know how to handle is the part that happened entirely inside of her head. Bree might have been aware of it; she might not; she might even have been feeling some of the same things Katherine was. Katherine doesn't know where Bree's head was at. But she is reluctantly beginning to understand where her own head is at, and right now, it's scaring the shit out of her.
Last night she'd cried for what felt like hours, and Bree had held her through it all. She'd held her through the ugly, tearing sobs that had first overwhelmed her, the long period of smaller gasps and sniffles as she'd tried to get herself under control, and finally the silent tears as she let it all go. She'd cried until the left shoulder of Bree's nightgown was soaked through and she'd lost all sense of time because she was pretty sure it was going to be impossible for her ever to look Bree in the face again, but as long as she let herself keep crying, she didn't need to. She felt as though she were suspended in some alternate reality, someplace where she could be the woman she'd thought she might be once, back before life, Wayne, and endless fear had turned her into the cold, hard bitch that Adam had known her to be. It occurred to her, fleetingly, that if any of their neighbors happened to be awake and decided to do a little spying, they wouldn't be able to believe their eyes. They'd probably figure Katherine and Bree had gotten mixed up in some alien abduction situation and been replaced by pod people from a race that actually had emotions.
Eventually she had cried herself out, and the torrent of tears left her feeling drained. So she stayed in Bree's arms even after she was done crying, because they were still in their magic circle where she could cry and be safe, where there were arms to hold her and someone to care about her, and if she moved it would break the circle, so she didn't move. And then things started to change. Her face was pressed into Bree's shoulder, close to Bree's neck, and she was suddenly acutely aware of the light scents of sugar and vanilla and lemon that clung to Bree's skin, of the slight swell of Bree's breasts against her own chest, of the brush of Bree's hair against Katherine's cheek. Something flipped over nervously in her stomach, and she knew they were poised on the brink of a moment where things could change in a big way. She could turn her head slightly and kiss Bree's neck. She could tip her head up a little more and kiss Bree's lips. She could shift her body to press herself closer to Bree, slide a hand around Bree's waist in a way meant to seduce rather than to seek comfort, And then her mind did a fast skip forward and for a second it seemed entirely possible that they could end up making love right there and then A few pretty graphic scenarios flashed through her mind -- sex on the linoleum floor with the pretty blue pattern, sex on the stainless-steel counter, sex against the wall, whatever. Basically what she was realizing right in that moment was that Bree had taken her into her arms as a friend, but Katherine's body, at the very least, wasn't interested in sticking to a just-friends relationship.
Hell of a thing to realize. And hell of a time to realize it.
The thing was that for a second she could have sworn Bree was feeling what she was. Their bodies moved together just a fraction of an inch, but Katherine's skin, suddenly oversensitive, registered the hint of friction and sent a jolt of anticipation through her. Bree's head had inclined maybe just the tiniest bit. They were so close to breaking through -- poised on the brink of the biggest risk yet.
And then the oven had dinged. Bree had set it to preheat. Well, it had preheated.
"Oh --" Bree pulled away, distracted.
"The cookies," Katherine offered, her head still swirling. What the hell was that? Had she really just gone from making cookies to sobbing hysterically and then wanting to jump her best friend? Was this some sort of nutty dream? In terms of content it had the dead-Dylan dreams beat, but the problem was that Katherine knew how to understand those dreams, whereas this was just not making any goddamn sense at all. Meanwhile Bree was staring at her and Katherine didn't have any idea what she was thinking, so she figured they'd better get back onto safe ground. Immediately.
"I - uh, do you... the sugar?" she said. Oh, good, Katherine. That was intelligent. Well done.
Bree furrowed her brow, still concerned. "Katherine, are you all right? We don't have to..." Her voice trails off. Don't have to what? Bake cookies? Stop hugging? Make out? Can Katherine ignore that part? She's going to ignore that part.
"Do I look all right? Wait --" Okay. Okay. Pull it together. "Don't answer that."
Bree's lips turned up in a half-smile, and for a second a different expression flickered across her face, one that Katherine wasn't 100% sure how to read but that she thought might mean that Bree was about to hug her again. That would not be acceptable at all. She grabbed the bag of pearl sugar instead. "Do you dip the tops of the cookies in sugar before you bake them?"
"Oh --" Bree flushed a little for some reason. "Yes. I -- good idea." She turned to get the dough out of the freezer. Katherine pulled out a cookie sheet and began greasing it lightly. Bree divided the dough into small balls for baking. Katherine coated the tops of them lightly in the sugar, then set them out on the cookie sheet. Katherine put them in to bake. Bree began cleaning up. Katherine went to help her. They didn't talk.
The cookies came out beautifully.
And, as always happened, things had rearranged themselves into a manageable shape by the time the baking was finished. Katherine was still feeling pretty ragged emotionally, but at least she felt like reality had shifted back onto its normal axis again. Leaving the kitchen, her arm had brushed Bree's and she felt the faintest quiver of the stirring that had hit her so strongly as she allowed Bree to hold he;, but then they were out of the room and the moment had passed. They went off to their separate rooms, of course. Katherine had to masturbate to get to sleep that night, but then, that happened sometimes. It helped her relax. It had nothing to do with Bree, she was sure of that. Almost.
And now it's morning, and last night seems absolutely impossible, and Katherine is truly frightened of what might be coming next. Everything's spinning out of control and she has no idea how to deal with it. The way she'd opened herself up last night, crying on Bree like that -- the fact that her sexual orientation has apparently decided to play a practical joke on her -- and the fact that had gone almost forgotten last night, the fact that Bree is an addict and this kind of involvement with an addict is extremely bad news. Katherine had tried it once before, in a terrible relationship with the guy before Adam. He'd put her through hell for six months, then ripped off ten thousand dollars out of her checking account and blown town, leaving her a lot poorer but unfortunately not that much wiser. The years with Wayne had taught her some better lessons, and she'd made a few resolutions in their wake: no more relationships with people who treat her like shit, who treat other people like shit, or who treat themselves like shit. Bree is doing okay with the first two things, but she is not doing at all well with the third, and until she has been sober for a long longer than she's been at this point, Katherine knows that any kind of romantic or sexual thing with her needs to be completely out of the question.
Oh, shit.
"Katherine!" Bree's voice trills up the stairs. "Are you awake? I've made breakfast."
Katherine swings her legs out of bed and heads downstairs to see whether Bree has made muffins or scones.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four (previous chapter)
Chapter Six (next chapter)
Chapter Five
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairing: Bree/Katherine
Rating: PG-13, at least at the moment
Format: Chaptered
Summary: Katherine moves in with Bree to help her quit drinking, and learns there are a few things she herself could use help with as well.
Note: Work-in-progress.
One Day at a Time
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning Katherine wakes up slowly, feeling like hell. She wasn't drinking last night, for obvious reasons, but as she falls back on the pillow, it occurs to her that she feels hung over anyway, which leads to some interesting questions: did she cry herself into dehydration? Or are hangovers attributable at least in part to the psychosomatic effects of guilt? If her head's pounding and her mouth tastes sour and cottony, is it just because she's pretty sure she embarrassed herself half to death last night, and her body's trying to distract her from thinking about it?
The smell of fresh baked goods is wafting up from the kitchen. Katherine sniffs; blueberry muffins, or maybe scones. Bree is making her muffins. Perfect. That'll smooth over all the rough edges this morning, blueberry muffins. Or scones. Maybe scones will fix it. Bree, of course, would know.
The irony is that Katherine is far more ashamed of the things that didn't happen last night than of the things that did. She's not feeling great about crying herself out on Bree's shoulder, but she can deal with that. In a way, it was a relief. Katherine has never known how to let her guard down with other people, but that doesn't mean that the façade she's had to don to keep up appearances hasn't been taxing at times. Katherine has always hated those acrid, choking sobs that rip through her in private, when cooking and cleaning can't dam the tide any longer -- but more than the crying, even, she's hated the aloneness. Those moments often find her clutching small Dylan's teddy bear to her chest, feeling all at once how empty a gesture it is and how impossible it is even to imagine putting it down. So there are benefits to having an actual human being there to hold you as you cry.
No, Katherine figures she can handle the crying part of last night okay. The part she doesn't know how to handle is the part that happened entirely inside of her head. Bree might have been aware of it; she might not; she might even have been feeling some of the same things Katherine was. Katherine doesn't know where Bree's head was at. But she is reluctantly beginning to understand where her own head is at, and right now, it's scaring the shit out of her.
Last night she'd cried for what felt like hours, and Bree had held her through it all. She'd held her through the ugly, tearing sobs that had first overwhelmed her, the long period of smaller gasps and sniffles as she'd tried to get herself under control, and finally the silent tears as she let it all go. She'd cried until the left shoulder of Bree's nightgown was soaked through and she'd lost all sense of time because she was pretty sure it was going to be impossible for her ever to look Bree in the face again, but as long as she let herself keep crying, she didn't need to. She felt as though she were suspended in some alternate reality, someplace where she could be the woman she'd thought she might be once, back before life, Wayne, and endless fear had turned her into the cold, hard bitch that Adam had known her to be. It occurred to her, fleetingly, that if any of their neighbors happened to be awake and decided to do a little spying, they wouldn't be able to believe their eyes. They'd probably figure Katherine and Bree had gotten mixed up in some alien abduction situation and been replaced by pod people from a race that actually had emotions.
Eventually she had cried herself out, and the torrent of tears left her feeling drained. So she stayed in Bree's arms even after she was done crying, because they were still in their magic circle where she could cry and be safe, where there were arms to hold her and someone to care about her, and if she moved it would break the circle, so she didn't move. And then things started to change. Her face was pressed into Bree's shoulder, close to Bree's neck, and she was suddenly acutely aware of the light scents of sugar and vanilla and lemon that clung to Bree's skin, of the slight swell of Bree's breasts against her own chest, of the brush of Bree's hair against Katherine's cheek. Something flipped over nervously in her stomach, and she knew they were poised on the brink of a moment where things could change in a big way. She could turn her head slightly and kiss Bree's neck. She could tip her head up a little more and kiss Bree's lips. She could shift her body to press herself closer to Bree, slide a hand around Bree's waist in a way meant to seduce rather than to seek comfort, And then her mind did a fast skip forward and for a second it seemed entirely possible that they could end up making love right there and then A few pretty graphic scenarios flashed through her mind -- sex on the linoleum floor with the pretty blue pattern, sex on the stainless-steel counter, sex against the wall, whatever. Basically what she was realizing right in that moment was that Bree had taken her into her arms as a friend, but Katherine's body, at the very least, wasn't interested in sticking to a just-friends relationship.
Hell of a thing to realize. And hell of a time to realize it.
The thing was that for a second she could have sworn Bree was feeling what she was. Their bodies moved together just a fraction of an inch, but Katherine's skin, suddenly oversensitive, registered the hint of friction and sent a jolt of anticipation through her. Bree's head had inclined maybe just the tiniest bit. They were so close to breaking through -- poised on the brink of the biggest risk yet.
And then the oven had dinged. Bree had set it to preheat. Well, it had preheated.
"Oh --" Bree pulled away, distracted.
"The cookies," Katherine offered, her head still swirling. What the hell was that? Had she really just gone from making cookies to sobbing hysterically and then wanting to jump her best friend? Was this some sort of nutty dream? In terms of content it had the dead-Dylan dreams beat, but the problem was that Katherine knew how to understand those dreams, whereas this was just not making any goddamn sense at all. Meanwhile Bree was staring at her and Katherine didn't have any idea what she was thinking, so she figured they'd better get back onto safe ground. Immediately.
"I - uh, do you... the sugar?" she said. Oh, good, Katherine. That was intelligent. Well done.
Bree furrowed her brow, still concerned. "Katherine, are you all right? We don't have to..." Her voice trails off. Don't have to what? Bake cookies? Stop hugging? Make out? Can Katherine ignore that part? She's going to ignore that part.
"Do I look all right? Wait --" Okay. Okay. Pull it together. "Don't answer that."
Bree's lips turned up in a half-smile, and for a second a different expression flickered across her face, one that Katherine wasn't 100% sure how to read but that she thought might mean that Bree was about to hug her again. That would not be acceptable at all. She grabbed the bag of pearl sugar instead. "Do you dip the tops of the cookies in sugar before you bake them?"
"Oh --" Bree flushed a little for some reason. "Yes. I -- good idea." She turned to get the dough out of the freezer. Katherine pulled out a cookie sheet and began greasing it lightly. Bree divided the dough into small balls for baking. Katherine coated the tops of them lightly in the sugar, then set them out on the cookie sheet. Katherine put them in to bake. Bree began cleaning up. Katherine went to help her. They didn't talk.
The cookies came out beautifully.
And, as always happened, things had rearranged themselves into a manageable shape by the time the baking was finished. Katherine was still feeling pretty ragged emotionally, but at least she felt like reality had shifted back onto its normal axis again. Leaving the kitchen, her arm had brushed Bree's and she felt the faintest quiver of the stirring that had hit her so strongly as she allowed Bree to hold he;, but then they were out of the room and the moment had passed. They went off to their separate rooms, of course. Katherine had to masturbate to get to sleep that night, but then, that happened sometimes. It helped her relax. It had nothing to do with Bree, she was sure of that. Almost.
And now it's morning, and last night seems absolutely impossible, and Katherine is truly frightened of what might be coming next. Everything's spinning out of control and she has no idea how to deal with it. The way she'd opened herself up last night, crying on Bree like that -- the fact that her sexual orientation has apparently decided to play a practical joke on her -- and the fact that had gone almost forgotten last night, the fact that Bree is an addict and this kind of involvement with an addict is extremely bad news. Katherine had tried it once before, in a terrible relationship with the guy before Adam. He'd put her through hell for six months, then ripped off ten thousand dollars out of her checking account and blown town, leaving her a lot poorer but unfortunately not that much wiser. The years with Wayne had taught her some better lessons, and she'd made a few resolutions in their wake: no more relationships with people who treat her like shit, who treat other people like shit, or who treat themselves like shit. Bree is doing okay with the first two things, but she is not doing at all well with the third, and until she has been sober for a long longer than she's been at this point, Katherine knows that any kind of romantic or sexual thing with her needs to be completely out of the question.
Oh, shit.
"Katherine!" Bree's voice trills up the stairs. "Are you awake? I've made breakfast."
Katherine swings her legs out of bed and heads downstairs to see whether Bree has made muffins or scones.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four (previous chapter)
Chapter Six (next chapter)