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Lucy was growing used to Christmas day without her family. However, she couldn't say the same for them. Her father made a very harsh point of calling on both days; once for the Australian time zone, and once for their actual time zone. Lucy humoured him in tandem with the rest of her family as they squeezed into a phone screen, bombarding her as they lamented over her absence. Their absence. Really, it was all about his absence. This was his first Christmas, and that was a big deal for the Serrano family.
She knew on a very obvious level that Penny would be glad they couldn't afford to make it. It was nice to (mostly) have the day to themselves. It was weird to hear her dad say he had her eyes, like that was possible. It was hard not to laugh at him; she totally failed. She was a little sad when she got off the phone, if only because Lucy was so naturally family orientated. She might have hated a lot of them, but the day felt a little wrong without them physically.
But it was super nice to not be bogged down in the intensity that was families. Lucy had been patient as she waited for their son to fall asleep for the night; she mulled around the living room like she had a lot to do, but she really didn’t. By the end of it she’d ended up on the couch trying to engulf her mind in a game while she waited for her love to have time for her.
A quiet, small holiday was exactly what Penny could have hoped for. Christmas was a stressful time of year, and it was his first. To throw in a mix of other people from either the other side of the world or the country would have been too much. Although there was something to be said for the love both families carried for their son, Penny was thankful nobody could make it. She hadn't invited them in the first place.
The day eased on with video and phone calls from all sides. Her own mother was disappointed that they couldn't make it West. She could see the desperation in her eyes that she wanted to hold her grandson, even through the screen.
Evening came quick with the short, winter days and at the first yawn Penny went to put him to bed. It took time for him to eventually fall asleep, and the psychometrist refused to leave his side until he was resting soundly. Even after, she lingered for a few minutes just to be sure. Her fingertips brushed lightly along his cheek as the tune she hummed came to an end.
Walking down the hallway, she heard the familiar sound of a video game hit her ears. The familiarity tugged at the corner of her mouth as she made her way into the living room. Behind her Lucy, she pressed both hands down onto her shoulders, pressing her lips against bright red hair.
Penny's footsteps were too quiet through their home, or perhaps the Australian was just too focused on what she was doing. Anything was better than aimlessly waiting for her to be free; that almost felt childish. There was a slight jolt to her system physically when familiar hands reached for her, offering their natural spark. It had her straightening her back. Lips pressed against the top of her head, and she was moving almost instantly.
She abandoned the controller linked to the match she was currently in like it didn't matter. It didn't matter. Hands reached for the arms that held her, fingers curling around her skin and applying pressure as if she was actually trying to pull her over the back. Anything to get a little more. She tilted her head up, dark eyes going bright at the sight of her.
"How'd you go?" She asked lightly, though she sounded eager, too.
All it took was a little touch to spark movement. Her stomach tightened with the attention - how easily Lucy dropped the controller to turn to her; no matter how many years, it was still overwhelming to witness such devotion. Penny sucked in a short breath, and actually leaned forward to the way she was drawn in. A couch might have been standing between them, but she couldn't deny the request for closeness. Her arms wrapped loosely around the ink manipulators shoulders when she caught her eyes.
"Well," she breathed. Her eyes drew shut as she leaned her head forward, the tip of her nose brushing against Lucy's lightly. Having a child ate up most of her attention throughout the day, and knowing that he was sound asleep safely just down the hallway put her mind at ease. Knowing she was waiting for relaxed her usually stiff muscles.
Brief frustration washed over Lucy in a fast wave; she didn't like the distance between them and how impossible it made everything feel. She had shown odd patience; the kind she was hardly well known for, especially when it came to dividing attention with anyone else. She didn't frown because she was better than that. Probably.
The smallest sliver of contact did nothing to quell the way she felt, but it was welcome all the same. It was thoughtful, the way Penny paused like she was searching for the best word to describe him. In the end, they likely both knew where she would land. He was perfect. That description felt so right.
"Okay." Lucy declared, offering a slight nod on obvious agreement. He was delicate like glass in the eyes of the ink manipulator, and a very real part of her was still afraid to break him. "Are you ready?" She asked then, squeezing the arms she held once more before she let them go.
There were a multitude of words Penny could use to describe their son, but perfect seemed to best fit when she tried to come up with anything else. How such a small child could carry the weight of a title was almost unfair, but he did so with such ease. Just as she so often did, though if Penny were to voice it she knew she'd be met with an argument. Instead, she leaned in as far as she could, given the restrictions of furniture.
But soon she was let go, and her own hands fell naturally to their sides. "Ready?" She questioned, eyebrows snapping upwards with a spark of curiosity, as well as humor. Slow steps brought her around the couch where she could actually be in proper proximity of her wife.
Letting go did exactly what Lucy wanted it to do; it forced an imperative shift in her counterpart. She clearly didn't like the distance between them either, and though it was annoying to watch her make it worse, she knew it was only to make it better. Instinctively, Lucy moved to the edge of her seat, fingertips gliding across the form that was so much closer now. There was obvious relief in her expression now that something wasn't stuck between them.
She glanced up then, chin lightly pressed against her. "Yeah. Cause it's fucking Christmas." Lucy explained, like that was an appropriate explanation. "It's your go. I got something for you."
Distance was always quick to be mended between them. Lucy had let go, but it was only a matter of moments before Penny was standing in front of her, hands drawing into the ink manipulator's hair, pushing it back on either side of her head. Keeping her eyes, she knew Lucy could see the quick shot of hardness they took on when the Australian let out a curse, especially in celebration of a relatively innocent holiday. At least she had waited for Lincoln to be out of earshot before letting loose.
"Is it now?" Penny questioned with her own brand of light humor. She leaned down, pressing her lips lightly against Lucy's before she sat herself down on the couch next to her.
Lucy couldn't help but wear the usual grin for the swear that passed her lips. She'd been good all day in the presence of vibrant young ears. And although she believed he couldn't make sense of the language she used, she wasn't willing to get into that fight with her.
At least, not yet.
The small kiss she received did nothing to settle the restless way she felt, but that was fine. She was anxious for another reason entirely as she watched her love sit beside her. It made it difficult to consider getting up, but she was determined not to get caught in proximity while she had some momentum driving her.
She sprang up out of her seat, fingers racing through her hair to draw it over her shoulder. Turning on a heel, she faced the woman she loved like she was on trial. Hands pressed together. "Okay, so like I know we didn't talk about gifts and shit and usually that means you don't wanna do gifts or whatever so I defo took that into account before I did anything." She explained, like a prelude to something greater. Pointing a finger towards her, she narrowed her eyes slightly.
"If you ever tell anyone what I'm about to do I will fucking ruin you, Serrano-Blaise, and I bloody well mean that."
Penny wasn't often one for gifts - or really many celebrations in general. Christmas time held something of more significance for her, however. Close to making her way onto a flight bound for New York, she turned around. She slapped her, and then she told Lucy Serrano she wanted to marry her. Penny knew that all that mattered was that she wouldn't spend the holidays away from her ever again. Presents were a side thought - if even a thought at all.
But Lucy jumped up so quickly that Penny's eyes grew wide, staying so as the Australian ranted on. Because suddenly she was being pointed at as if accused for an action she hadn't committed yet. Her eyebrows twitched upwards at the sign of a threat from her wife, humor reflecting lightly in her eyes. Lucy certainly knew how to grab Penny's curiosity. "And who would I talk to?" The Brit asked genuinely.
She leaned backwards, legs crossing on the couch, quickly followed by her arms. Waiting.
Narrowed eyes were joined by a crinkled nose when Penny expressed a rather clear flaw in her plan. Okay so there wasn't really anyone who she would have told. Her wife ran with in a very tight circle; if she wasn't talking to Lucy, she was only really talking to her brother. Begrudgingly, she might have talked to Carleigh, who would have loved a glimpse into the ink manipulator's next thoughts, she was sure.
"Present one was totally me letting you skirt your family and really, mine for these holidays." Lucy pointed out. After all, they both knew her father would have been there in a heartbeat if he had been allowed. She mightn't have been in such a teasing mood if that had happened.
She totally deserved recognition for that bullet.
Turning around, Lucy took steps away from her. Prepped and ready to go was the vinyl player she swore she needed but rarely ever actually used. A flick of the switch on and a clever placement of the needle and Lucy paused very briefly before the device before finally a melody hummed through the speakers at the ready.
Turning back, she raised her hand once in her direction, not quite looking her in the eye.
"Get up." She ordered, then indicated to herself; "Come here."
A crinkle in Lucy's usually confident features forced a small smile to pull at Penny's lips. A present within itself was the rare chance to see Lucy like this. It humored her, and more was that Lucy took full responsibility for keeping the families away. Admittedly, the Australian deserved credit. She deflected pressure from both sides while Penny tended to their newborn. Had the psychometrist used their son as an excuse to avoid dealing with both parts of her jointed last name? Absolutely. So she gave a small nod in acknowledgement.
Before much else could be done or said, Lucy was moving again. Had she not gone far, Penny would have found it hard to keep up with her sporadic movements. A melody filled the air with something that wasn't Janelle Monae, and surprise colored Penny's features. "Lucy," she breathed, but did as she was asked. Slow steps brought her closer to the ink manipulator, eyes searching to make contact with those familiar ones.
Her own name hit the air with the smallest swell of music and potent lyrics were then in tow. The corner of her mouth twitched to a smile but she fought it, oddly enough, because she wouldn't dare crumble this early. Penny looked surprised, but she was following through with Lucy's relatively brash demands.
It took a second or so of yearning before Lucy actually acknowledged her eyes. She caught the set desperately searching for her in an act of mercy. It was rare for Lucy to be awkward about anything, but she'd been just that, and her first response was to not look. But she was proud; her chin was tilted a fraction higher than it usually would be like she was ready to wear however strange and new this felt. This was a gift.
She rested the palm of her hand on her waist, letting it graze to the small of her back the closer she stepped. She dropped the gaze she held to look at the hand she took, and she eased that familiar body in close by against her own.
She looked at her again in a brief moment that dragged. Proximity was a potent kind of poison at the best of times. Taking a small breath in, she waited a touch more before taking the first step in tandem with the beginning beat.
Though the moments it took to catch her eyes felt like ages, when she finally did Penny sucked in a short breath. There was the confidence her wife was known for, and it was overwhelming. A loving hand pressed to the small of her back as it had hundreds of times before, but this was different. Her hand lifted instinctively to meet Lucy's other, fingers curling around the base. Her other hand moved to Lucy's shoulder.
And she took the first step. It was all too familiar, a sense of nostalgia filling the psychometrist's senses. It'd been almost a decade as she took steps like this, but she followed with ease.
She could have said something, but words failed her.
Lucy was by no means a dancer. She had never had any kind of grace when it came to such an act; properly, it took tact and poise and they were just things she'd never had. The point was, she assumed, that she was at least trying. Still, it wasn't uncomfortable by any means; seconds passed and she felt the natural way every movement was eased into. Lucy felt oddly attuned to the way her counterpart was breathing. She hadn't said anything. In a younger mindset, Lucy would have taken that to heart.
Leaning in a fraction, the tip of her nose brushed against her cheek lightly. Parted lips desperately wanted to say something, but the words completely escaped her. A heavy exhaled dusted her skin by pure accident. She knew she wasn't helping; her shoulders rose with another breath, another chance within her grasp.
"I remembered." She said lightly. It was the only thing she could think of.
