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Silence took to them easily, and all that was left was the music and the soft sound of their breath. For such a gentle song, it had Penny's heart pounding. She should have said something - she deserved it. Yet if anyone understood that when Penny was quiet, it wasn't necessarily bad, it was the one who was so patient with her. So she lead in both footing and the start of a quiet conversation.
Penny hadn't recalled if she brought it up more than once in the entirety that they'd known each other. Regardless, she knew she hadn't brought special attention to it, yet the ink manipulator knew just how much she missed this.
Her cheek rested against Lucy's shoulder, eyes drawing shut. "Thank you."
A cheek pressed against her shoulder, and words of gratitude filled the air. They still weren't something Lucy was totally used to. It likely never would be. Still, she took every opportunity to cut whatever distance was left between them. The hand at her love's waist shifted further around her, keeping her hold light.
"Yeah, well..." Lucy mused aloud, humming idly as she went, "It's no jazz, or classical. I mean, it is a bit of a classic." She laughed softly then. Everything about her movements felt stripped of her prior harshness, like a single swear could break everything.
"My dad's parents used to do this all the time, I guess." It definitely wasn't something she'd ever talked about. It'd never really mattered until this moment, "They said they wouldn't miss this record."
With her eyes closed, Penny was acutely attuned to her counterpart. To the way she moved and the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and now the way she explained herself. It forced a short breath out of the Brit as her fingers caught a bit of Lucy's hair, twirling it.
"What is it?" She asked, not recognizing the tune. Admittedly it wasn't what her father would play but that was hardly the point. It seemed so fitting that the ink manipulator would bring some of her own family's side into it.
Admittedly, the lack of a clear cut conversation made Lucy a little nervous. The words passed kept her lightly distracted. Anything less would draw heavy attention to the way her love held her. How she breathed. How she acted and reacted. Thoughtful gestures always altered the course of her actions. Thoughtful gestures made her impossible to deny.
"The Wonder of You." She said, and then she laughed; "Pretty sure Elvis made it famous, but this is more... You. I dunno, it felt fitting."
Fitting was the way it felt to be newly intertwined with the person she loved so greatly and so profusely. Like the great sacrifice of having a child hadn't already made the ink manipulator fall head over heels all over again. "I'm happy to make this a thing, if you want it." She said then, a smile dawning her expression at the thought. She might have threatened her before, but that didn't mean she hated it.
Penny hummed when she heard the title, committing it to memory now that it had a name. She opened her eyes again, and though the close proximity made it hard to properly look at her love, she stared nonetheless. It was evident Lucy from the way she spoke earlier that she was a little embarrassed, but she wanted to make it something of a tradition nonetheless. That was, if Penny wanted to. It put the ball in her court, and the Brit smiled.
It was too much, and for it she pressed her lips lightly against the ink manipulator's pulse, just once. "I'd like that," she murmured against her skin lightly.
"Did you practice this?" Penny asked next. "Or watch little videos on YouTube?"
Precious lips against the curve of her neck sent a jolt through Lucy's spine and forced her back to straighten. "Consider it done." She offered finally. She supposed once a year wouldn't totally kill her, especially not if it meant as much as this felt like it did.
The next question had her laughing, offering a low chuckle from the base of her throat. She did her best to keep quiet.
"Why, cause I'm not a shit as you thought I'd be?" Lucy asked her, the grin she wore highlighted in the time she used. "Its pretty straight forward. Though, to be honest, I'm surprised you're letting me lead." But for good measure, she tightened the grip she had around her waist. It wasn't like she wanted to change anytime soon.
It was always Penny's particular brand of humor to poke fun of the ink manipulator, and Lucy played into it perfectly. Curse and all, the true way she knew how. She knew where the Brit was going before Penny had the chance to voice her thoughts, after all her wife wasn't the most graceful person on her feet. Here, however, she fell in line with the beat with almost delicate steps.
A light breath escaped her lips, dusting the crook of Lucy's neck as she squeezed her hand at the pressure on her back. "I wouldn't take that away from you," she mused.
"This makes what I got you seem a little like a joke."
A squeeze of her hand had Lucy squeezing back instinctively; far be it for her to ignore the connection despite the obvious distraction. She couldn't help the slightest drop of her hand as fingertips crept just below the safety of the small of her back.
"Yeah, yeah." She joked, knowing all too well she was about to lose the lead the second this dance was over.
"What? No, you're not meant to get me anything." She pointed out. She thought to pull back to catch her eyes, but it wasn't worth it, and she knew her counterpart could catch the strain in her voice was it was; "I mean like I know I framed this as a gift but come on, does it really fit the mark?"
A small, humored laugh escaped Penny's lips when the ink manipulator spoke. This went from being never-to-be-spoken to a new Christmas tradition, and now from a gift to not really. It was a bit all over the place, but then again, the psychometrist wasn't really surprised. Her laugh transformed into a light hum as the song dwindled down. Only then did she dare shift - enough to properly look at her love.
She didn't move away, and she didn't shift where her hand had landed. "I hadn't even wrapped it," Penny replied. Although her hands suggested that of someone following in a dance, she gave Lucy a light pull, gently leading them towards a bookcase in step with the next song that started to play on the record.
When the nervous nature of this entire ordeal dwindled down, Lucy found a different kind of comfort in her counterpart’s arms. However, she quickly realised how much easier it was to deal with without eye contact. Penny might had had to move away to catch her gaze, but Lucy couldn't help the way the air caught in her throat for it.
One song in and it felt like Penny was leading her, despite the placement of her hands. There was no real complaint from the Australian as she followed without a second thought. "I didn't wrap yours." She replied then, eyebrows quirking with the grin she suddenly wore.
Penny was grateful for the way Lucy followed without argument, and possibly more so over the fact that they were still dancing despite the first song ending. The Australian didn't seem entirely uncomfortable, but part of Penny wondered how long she would keep her feet in motion for.
With a few clever steps, she was within reaching distance of the bookcase. Only then did Penny's own footing come to a halt, but she still held on to Lucy's hand. Still kept close. Her other reached forward, shifting aside a few books and wrapping her fingers around the neck of a short, flat rectangular bottle. A black and white owl rested atop the name, staring at Lucy as she presented it to her.
"You've been very patient lately." With their son, but also -- "With me." Penny knew that although the Serrano clan was crazy, she missed them. It was fitting that Lucy took the credit for warding off them from just showing up.
Pursed lips tried to hide the instinctive frown Lucy wanted to wear when a hand left her. She knew it had to, but that didn't make it any better. She didn't look as her counterpart moved; rather, her dark eyes were in a constant state of captivation.
And when she could catch her eyes again, she forced her own to shift. It might have been a cliche to most, but it was so incredibly clever. There was nothing nice for Lucy about having a dry household; it was the epitome of irksome and she knew her love would argue it had everything to do with the blood running through her veins. It was more than a bottle. It was a step, like newfound trust. She took a breath in, catching familiar eyes and offering a distilled sense of adoration from her own. Feet firmly fastened themselves to the floor, then.
Leaving her waist, she reached for the bottle long enough to place it back on the bookshelf. "I promise-" She declared, almost losing the second syllable of the single word as she pressed her lips against hers thoughtfully.
Penny had a stronger stance on alcohol than ever once she became pregnant, staying firm after the birth of their son. Lucy could be stubborn, but Penny was determined, at least until then. The bottle slipped from her fingertips as Lucy took a hold of it. Part of her expected her to take a swig of it then and there. She hadn't, however, and before Penny could make a quip about it, she felt familiar, longing lips against her own.
It felt sweet, and Penny's hand returned to her counterpart the moment it was free. She took Lucy's cheek in the palm of her hand, because although she doubted the ink manipulator would break away so quickly, Penny didn't want to risk it.
Fingertips settled against the side of her face, doing well to ground the usually unstable ink manipulator at a time of such importance. It mightn't have seemed like much - a joke, as she thought of it - but the rules and natural order were so greatly dictated by the one who volunteered to play the largest part on the creation of their family.
It'd been months since his birth, and Lucy had waited. It only seemed right to offer that courtesy; to express a patience she was never known for.
She ignored the lamenting notion of the sixties ballad and how it would inevitably fade into nothing but a needle across an empty track. Lucy eased her hand from the one that seemed intent to hold onto hers. Instead, both hands shifted across her waist, drawing her in and diminishing any space between them with a prominent pull forward.
Penny should have known that the moment she presented the bottle to Lucy that their dance would dwindle away, but as she kissed the Australian, she didn't mind. With her hand freed, she pressed it between Lucy's shoulder blades, encouraging the way she pulled her closer.
Short on breath, Penny had to force an inch of distance just to take in a hit of air. Her eyes remained shut, forehead pressed against the ink manipulator's before she kissed her much more. "I love you." And again, though this time she didn't pull away.
