"Virtue" - Hobbs/Raydor Fic
Title: Virtue
Pairing: Andrea Hobbs/Sharon Raydor
Rating: T
Word Count: 1, 390 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
Summary: "She was an enigma to Andrea, a paradox personified, a riddle with no clear-cut answer."
On ff.net: Virtue
It was small things that drove Andrea crazy.
Tiny habits, seemingly inconsequential routines, barely-there quirks. The big things, she could handle; monumental personality disorders, awful housekeeping, lackluster attempts at romance, she could handle any and all of that. Big things were impossible to ignore therefore they gave her the excuse she needed to cut her losses and leave.
It’s just not working out.
We’re just too different.
I think the problem is just that we want very different things.
It would be selfish for us to keep making each other miserable.
Big things were easy. Fixable. Get out and move on. Never look back. Put yourself out of your own misery. Do it before she has the chance to do it herself.
Small things weren’t so easy to deal with. They lacked the substance that the big things provided; they lacked the excuses that Andrea needed.
It wasn’t that Andrea wanted to be perpetually single; she actually loved coming home to someone at the end of the day. She loved the sense of security that she felt while relaxing in a lover’s arms, she loved the intimacy of sharing a bed, a couch, a shower. In fact, she loved almost everything about cohabiting with a partner. No, it wasn’t that she wanted to be single at all; it was that she feared how devastating it would be to find herself alone unexpectedly.
She liked the big things. They gave her the warning that she needed to pack up her heart and brace herself for the all-consuming loneliness that came after the inevitable flood. She loved the big things. They were obvious and predictable.
The little things were too subtle, too infrequent; they snuck up on her and took the air out of her lungs, pulled the rug from beneath her feet, and left her in a state so vulnerable and so ill-prepared that she found herself scrambling just to stay afloat.
Sharon Raydor didn’t do big things. She didn’t do obvious or predictable. She was all about the little things; nuances that were neither good nor bad, subtleties that left Andrea feeling confused yet intrigued at the same time. She was an enigma to Andrea, a paradox personified, a riddle with no clear-cut answer.
Above all else, she left Andrea wanting more, always more.
Andrea methodically bumped her head against the pantry shelf once, twice, three times.
“Christ,” she murmured.
Sharon had rearranged her kitchen. Again. Again.
Behind her, Andrea could hear the distinct sound of Sharon’s feet shuffling adorably across her kitchen floor.
“You mustn’t have had your coffee yet this morning,” the words were giggled against Andrea’s shoulder, “You look impossibly grumpy.” Kisses were applied to the back of her neck.
(An intelligent and well-deployed disarming mechanism, Sharon’s kisses were.)
“I would have been half-way through my morning coffee had someone not rearranged all my glasses and mugs. Again,” Andrea said, not even bothering to hide her annoyance.
Sharon’s hands caressed Andrea’s t-shirt clad hips. “Well, if someone hadn’t left all her dirty glasses in the sink, I wouldn’t have had to rearrange your glasses. But I was determined to cook a nice meal for us last night, and thus I needed the sink. Therefore, the glasses were washed and put away. You’re welcome,” Sharon replied sweetly, “I’m sure that you’ll find everything like you normally do.” She followed her light reprimand with another kiss to the back of Andrea’s neck.
Andrea sighed and leaned back, placing her hands overtop of Sharon’s.
Last night Sharon had surprised Andrea by letting herself in with her spare key for the first time since Andrea had gifted it to her. She’d been in the kitchen cooking for almost an hour by the time Andrea that had finally arrived home.
“What’s this?” Andrea asked, surveying the elaborate spread across her dinning room table. She kicked her heels off and groaned as her sore feet sunk into the cool marble tile. Thank goodness it was the weekend; this week had been a special delivery from the depths of hell itself.
“It’s good to see you too,” Sharon said teasingly. She was still dressed in her pencil skirt and blouse, though she’d replaced her heels for a pair of slippers and had shed her blazer in favour of a cooking apron.
Andrea pulled Sharon away from the stovetop to sweep her hair aside and kiss along the length of her jaw. “You didn’t have to go through any trouble. I would have been elated just to find you here just sitting on my couch eating takeout.”
Sharon hummed as Andrea’s lips found that spot just behind her ear. “Where’s the romance in that?” she scoffed.
“Did I mention that I’m kind of a jerk in the morning?” Andrea asked, having the good grace to sound slightly ashamed. She bit the inside of her lip and tried to squelch the panic that was slowly starting to rise in her belly; would this lead to a big thing? Would she and Sharon fight now? She tensed in Sharon’s arms, bracing herself for impact. Anticipating a more stern reprimand, an insult, a look of disgust.
But Sharon did none of those things. Instead, she lightly scraped her teeth across Andrea’s shoulder and chuckled. “Did I mention that I still love you, despite your less than charming mood first thing in the morning?” she asked.
The tips of Andrea’s fingers tingled; slowly, the panic began to subside, disappearing back into the abyss from which it came. She sighed. She would try again. Differently this time.
“I love you too. And I really appreciated dinner last night. But please wait until after 10am to rearrange my belongings. Let me wake up a bit before you play hide-the-coffee-mug on me, okay? Especially on a Saturday morning.”
“Yes love,” Sharon said. She reached in front of Andrea and produced the missing mug, which, apparently, was resting only two shelves above where Andrea normally placed it.
Andrea felt a kiss being pressed to the side of her head.
“Wake up. Then come back to bed. I want you coherent and full of energy,” Sharon said as she sauntered off.
Andrea blinked her eyes once then twice; then she even rubbed them for good measure. It was only then that she noticed what Sharon had been wearing; absolutely nothing.
As Sharon turned the corner towards Andrea’s bedroom, she caught Andrea’s dazed look and laughed. “Oh dear, I really shouldn’t have moved that mug, huh? You look lost and confused without your caffeine hit.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Do you require my assistance?” she asked, her voice a sweet melody of mischief and affection.
“I might,” Andrea said.
Sharon grinned and walked over to her.
(More like she strut over to her. While completely naked. And practically radiating confidence. Another perfectly deployed disarming strategy.)
Sharon plucked the mug from Andrea’s hands and wedged herself between Andrea and the counter. She turned the Tassimo on and selected a particularly strong coffee for Andrea to load into the tiny machine.
Andrea wrapped her arms around Sharon’s torso and inhaled the scent of her shampoo.
“You’re naked,” Andrea stated unnecessarily.
Sharon snickered. She could hear the delight in Andrea’s voice. “Yes, I am. You made sure that I went to bed that way,” she replied evenly.
“I like you naked,” Andrea stated. Again, unnecessarily.
Sharon turned around in Andrea’s arms, holding the piping hot mug of coffee in her hands. “I am aware of that Counselor. Here, drink this then come and find me. I’m going to catch up on some reading while you wake up.” She pecked Andrea on the lips and thrust the mug back into Andrea’s hands before making her way back to Andrea’s bedroom once again.
Andrea inhaled the aroma emitting from her mug; it smelled like heaven. She took a healthy sip of the delicious beverage, pausing to enjoy the way that the liquid seemed to warm her entire being. Within a few minutes, she was draining the mug and turning around to pile it in the sink - she paused - then reached for the washcloth and soap. She washed the mug thoroughly then replaced it on the shelf.
Maybe the small things weren’t so bad after all, she thought to herself as she followed her heart back to bed.
Pairing: Andrea Hobbs/Sharon Raydor
Rating: T
Word Count: 1, 390 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
Summary: "She was an enigma to Andrea, a paradox personified, a riddle with no clear-cut answer."
On ff.net: Virtue
It was small things that drove Andrea crazy.
Tiny habits, seemingly inconsequential routines, barely-there quirks. The big things, she could handle; monumental personality disorders, awful housekeeping, lackluster attempts at romance, she could handle any and all of that. Big things were impossible to ignore therefore they gave her the excuse she needed to cut her losses and leave.
It’s just not working out.
We’re just too different.
I think the problem is just that we want very different things.
It would be selfish for us to keep making each other miserable.
Big things were easy. Fixable. Get out and move on. Never look back. Put yourself out of your own misery. Do it before she has the chance to do it herself.
Small things weren’t so easy to deal with. They lacked the substance that the big things provided; they lacked the excuses that Andrea needed.
It wasn’t that Andrea wanted to be perpetually single; she actually loved coming home to someone at the end of the day. She loved the sense of security that she felt while relaxing in a lover’s arms, she loved the intimacy of sharing a bed, a couch, a shower. In fact, she loved almost everything about cohabiting with a partner. No, it wasn’t that she wanted to be single at all; it was that she feared how devastating it would be to find herself alone unexpectedly.
She liked the big things. They gave her the warning that she needed to pack up her heart and brace herself for the all-consuming loneliness that came after the inevitable flood. She loved the big things. They were obvious and predictable.
The little things were too subtle, too infrequent; they snuck up on her and took the air out of her lungs, pulled the rug from beneath her feet, and left her in a state so vulnerable and so ill-prepared that she found herself scrambling just to stay afloat.
Sharon Raydor didn’t do big things. She didn’t do obvious or predictable. She was all about the little things; nuances that were neither good nor bad, subtleties that left Andrea feeling confused yet intrigued at the same time. She was an enigma to Andrea, a paradox personified, a riddle with no clear-cut answer.
Above all else, she left Andrea wanting more, always more.
Andrea methodically bumped her head against the pantry shelf once, twice, three times.
“Christ,” she murmured.
Sharon had rearranged her kitchen. Again. Again.
Behind her, Andrea could hear the distinct sound of Sharon’s feet shuffling adorably across her kitchen floor.
“You mustn’t have had your coffee yet this morning,” the words were giggled against Andrea’s shoulder, “You look impossibly grumpy.” Kisses were applied to the back of her neck.
(An intelligent and well-deployed disarming mechanism, Sharon’s kisses were.)
“I would have been half-way through my morning coffee had someone not rearranged all my glasses and mugs. Again,” Andrea said, not even bothering to hide her annoyance.
Sharon’s hands caressed Andrea’s t-shirt clad hips. “Well, if someone hadn’t left all her dirty glasses in the sink, I wouldn’t have had to rearrange your glasses. But I was determined to cook a nice meal for us last night, and thus I needed the sink. Therefore, the glasses were washed and put away. You’re welcome,” Sharon replied sweetly, “I’m sure that you’ll find everything like you normally do.” She followed her light reprimand with another kiss to the back of Andrea’s neck.
Andrea sighed and leaned back, placing her hands overtop of Sharon’s.
Last night Sharon had surprised Andrea by letting herself in with her spare key for the first time since Andrea had gifted it to her. She’d been in the kitchen cooking for almost an hour by the time Andrea that had finally arrived home.
“What’s this?” Andrea asked, surveying the elaborate spread across her dinning room table. She kicked her heels off and groaned as her sore feet sunk into the cool marble tile. Thank goodness it was the weekend; this week had been a special delivery from the depths of hell itself.
“It’s good to see you too,” Sharon said teasingly. She was still dressed in her pencil skirt and blouse, though she’d replaced her heels for a pair of slippers and had shed her blazer in favour of a cooking apron.
Andrea pulled Sharon away from the stovetop to sweep her hair aside and kiss along the length of her jaw. “You didn’t have to go through any trouble. I would have been elated just to find you here just sitting on my couch eating takeout.”
Sharon hummed as Andrea’s lips found that spot just behind her ear. “Where’s the romance in that?” she scoffed.
“Did I mention that I’m kind of a jerk in the morning?” Andrea asked, having the good grace to sound slightly ashamed. She bit the inside of her lip and tried to squelch the panic that was slowly starting to rise in her belly; would this lead to a big thing? Would she and Sharon fight now? She tensed in Sharon’s arms, bracing herself for impact. Anticipating a more stern reprimand, an insult, a look of disgust.
But Sharon did none of those things. Instead, she lightly scraped her teeth across Andrea’s shoulder and chuckled. “Did I mention that I still love you, despite your less than charming mood first thing in the morning?” she asked.
The tips of Andrea’s fingers tingled; slowly, the panic began to subside, disappearing back into the abyss from which it came. She sighed. She would try again. Differently this time.
“I love you too. And I really appreciated dinner last night. But please wait until after 10am to rearrange my belongings. Let me wake up a bit before you play hide-the-coffee-mug on me, okay? Especially on a Saturday morning.”
“Yes love,” Sharon said. She reached in front of Andrea and produced the missing mug, which, apparently, was resting only two shelves above where Andrea normally placed it.
Andrea felt a kiss being pressed to the side of her head.
“Wake up. Then come back to bed. I want you coherent and full of energy,” Sharon said as she sauntered off.
Andrea blinked her eyes once then twice; then she even rubbed them for good measure. It was only then that she noticed what Sharon had been wearing; absolutely nothing.
As Sharon turned the corner towards Andrea’s bedroom, she caught Andrea’s dazed look and laughed. “Oh dear, I really shouldn’t have moved that mug, huh? You look lost and confused without your caffeine hit.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Do you require my assistance?” she asked, her voice a sweet melody of mischief and affection.
“I might,” Andrea said.
Sharon grinned and walked over to her.
(More like she strut over to her. While completely naked. And practically radiating confidence. Another perfectly deployed disarming strategy.)
Sharon plucked the mug from Andrea’s hands and wedged herself between Andrea and the counter. She turned the Tassimo on and selected a particularly strong coffee for Andrea to load into the tiny machine.
Andrea wrapped her arms around Sharon’s torso and inhaled the scent of her shampoo.
“You’re naked,” Andrea stated unnecessarily.
Sharon snickered. She could hear the delight in Andrea’s voice. “Yes, I am. You made sure that I went to bed that way,” she replied evenly.
“I like you naked,” Andrea stated. Again, unnecessarily.
Sharon turned around in Andrea’s arms, holding the piping hot mug of coffee in her hands. “I am aware of that Counselor. Here, drink this then come and find me. I’m going to catch up on some reading while you wake up.” She pecked Andrea on the lips and thrust the mug back into Andrea’s hands before making her way back to Andrea’s bedroom once again.
Andrea inhaled the aroma emitting from her mug; it smelled like heaven. She took a healthy sip of the delicious beverage, pausing to enjoy the way that the liquid seemed to warm her entire being. Within a few minutes, she was draining the mug and turning around to pile it in the sink - she paused - then reached for the washcloth and soap. She washed the mug thoroughly then replaced it on the shelf.
Maybe the small things weren’t so bad after all, she thought to herself as she followed her heart back to bed.