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Chapter Text

When Carmilla logged into the video chat, the screen showed only an empty desk and a pile of papers.

“Carm!” Laura’s head popped up from somewhere below the desk, “Hold on.” When Laura popped back up, she had a bunch of loose cookies in her arms. Carmilla smiled as Laura dropped them on the desk, leaving behind crumbs on her dark blazer.

“Cupcake, we talked about trying food with nutritional value on occasion,” Carmilla said as Laura sat down.

Laura grinned at her, “I think there’s something green and leafy in the fridge. Kale maybe?”

“Doesn’t work if you don’t eat it,” Carmilla muttered.

“What was that?” Laura asked.

“Nothing,” Carmilla waved her off, “How’s your article going? Still working on that piece on social justice?”

Laura’s eyes brightened and she started describing the nuances of her article as though they were still trapped together in a in University dorm room where Laura was a freshman trying to track down a kidnapper no-one else believed in and Carmilla was just a leather wearing politics major with a love of philosophy who was stuck sharing her dorm room.

Camilla let herself slump into her couch as Laura rambled. Usually Carmilla loved to jump back in time with her. Thursday nights video calls were the highlight of Carmilla’s week. But not this week. Not with the election and her mother’s demands hovering over her.

Now all she saw was reality. Laura was a world class journalist a thousand miles away in the heart of Toronto. Carmilla was almost the country’s youngest elected member of parliament in one of the most influential seats in the government.

Almost being the operative word. Mother did not settle for almost.

“Carm,” Laura’s sing song voice brought her back, “Carm. You’ve gone away again.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “I’m right here, cupcake.”

Laura shook her head and grinned, “I can see your brain going a mile a minute, if even my super exciting story about cornering judges in the restroom can’t keep your attention then it’s got to be something big.”

“Please tell it was the woman’s washroom,” Carmilla said.

Laura smiled innocently, “Did you know that it’s actually really easy to mix up which bathroom is which? Totally innocent mistake.”

“Mmhmm,” Carmilla said.

“Don’t think I missed that deflection either,” Laura leaned towards the screen and Carmilla tried not to notice her blazer gaping slightly in the bust.“Come on. I know you’re down in the polls but you’ll pull it right back up. Just wait. MP Karnstein is going to be a legend.”

“You’ve got to be elected to be an MP.” Carmilla muttered, picking up the laptop and walking over to her office.

“Come on,” Laura said, “Between Perry, Will, and your Mother, they’ll make sure you’ll get there. I’m sure they’re already cooking up some sort of plan that you can shoot down.”

Carmilla’s laugh was dry and hard as she put the laptop down on her desk, “Oh, Mother’s already got a plan.” Carmilla reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a package of her own cookies.

“Don’t judge,” Carmilla said before Laura could say anything, “I picked up this bad habit from a tiny gay cupcake I know.” Carmilla sank into her desk chair as Laura raised her hands and grinned at her, shoving her own cookie in her mouth.

Mumbling around the cookie, Laura asked, “So what’s this plan that’s got you all out of sorts?”

Carmilla put her head on her desk and mumbled something unintelligible.

“I can’t hear you when you’re being melodramatic,” Laura said.

Carmilla raised her head slightly, “You know what’s the worst part? My mother’s actually right. This plan would fix the polls. Even Perry and Will couldn’t disagree with that, even if they don’t like the idea itself.”

“Alright,” now Laura was practically buzzing with curiosity, “You’ve got to tell me. It’s super rude to keep your best friend in such suspense. Not to mention that you know I’ll get it out of you eventually, I mean, that is my job. Sniffing out secret-”

“I’ve got to get married.” Carmilla blurted, looking up.

Laura blinked twice. Then the screen froze on Laura’s face adorably scrunching tighter and tighter as she absorbed the information. Carmilla felt a small smile creep across her face. It bloomed into a full blown smile when the words finally came shooting through the connection.

“-not even seeing anyone are you? Are you? Because I feel like that’s something you need to tell your best friend. Preferably far before you actually get engaged.” Carmilla sat back, enjoying Laura’s tirade. The cupcake was practically jumping in her chair as she continued, “Because I have to vet this girl to make sure she’s good enough for my best friend. Although, I mean. I guess it would fix all those accusations about you being too young and that they can’t have an MP going on dates and how people would seduce you for information or personal benefit. Realy though. Do they even know you? You’re like un-seducable. If anything you’ll be seducing the innocent members of your constituency.”

“Laura,” Carmilla interjected, ”get to the point.”

Laura paused mid-rant and shoved another cookie in her mouth. She swallowed and said, “Who are you marrying?”

“No idea.” Carmilla said.

“No idea!” Laura repeated, “Carm, you can’t just marry someone for a campaign. That’s insane. I mean, I know your mother is intense but seriously.”

Carmilla hadn’t expected to enjoy this quite so much but the rage coming from Laura on her behalf was slowly untwisting the heavy knots that had formed in her stomach when she’d met her mother this morning.

Carmilla sighed, “I won’t actually be marrying them.” She explained, “I just need to get engaged and act like I’m going to marry them. You know, plan a wedding, buy flowers, act in love. We set a date that’s after the election. Then once the election’s all over and I’m elected, I can get dumped at the altar.” Carmilla shrugged, “Mother thinks that the sympathy will be enough to carry public approval for a while.”

“Carmilla,” Laura shook her head, “that’s insane.”

“Perhaps,” Carmilla steepled her fingers, “and I don’t like it anymore than you do but can you think of a reason why it wouldn’t work? People will stop harping on ‘The Dating MP’ and focus back on the real issues of my campaign.”

“But a whole marriage?” Laura said.

“I want to help people,” Carmilla leaned forward now, “if I do this and I get in then I can really help people Laur. That’s the only reason I got into this mess. Not because I’m a Karnstein or because my grandfather did it or because my mother wanted me to. I can help a lot of people if I get in instead my asshole of an opponent. Wouldn’t you rather have me than Rick McRaffle even if I’ve got to fake a marriage to do it?”

Carmilla frowned as Laura ate a third cookie and said, “Of course, I’d rather have you. And maybe I can get why you want to go ahead with this crazy plan. But Carm, you can’t just acquire a fake fiance like you’re looking for a campaign manager.”

“Ah but,” Carmilla leaned into her leather bag and slid out a folder, “my mother has prepared a list of both necessary qualities and suggested candidates.”

Laura’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her smile, “She didn’t!”

WIth a smirk, Carmilla made a few clicks on her computer, “I’ve sent you a copy.”

Laura frantically tried to find her email in the hoard of tabs that Carmilla knew she left open. Carmilla shook her head and nibbled on her own cookie, reviewing the first page of eight pages that made up her mother’s list

No Criminal Record

Politically and Socially connected

Comfortable in High Society

Ability to Maintain Secrecy

High Powered Career

Well Respected in Their Field

Name Recognition

Aesthetically Pleasing

Suddenly there was a guffaw coming through the speakers, “Carm,” Laura giggled, “I don’t care what your mother thinks. Number one has to be ‘Someone who can actually put up with Carmilla’s sass’.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “That girl doesn’t exist.”

“Oh yes,” Laura said, her overacting bringing a smile to Carmilla’s lip, “heaven forbid Carmilla Karnstein actually be fond of someone.” Laura kept scrolling, “There’s got to be someone out there you don’t hate, having a fake fiance is going to be pretty horrible if you can’t even tolerate them. I mean, I fully expect to be in the fake wedding party and I don’t want to have to hang out with someone awful just because they’re,” she squinted at the screen, “under 5’5?”

“Mother, thinks an extreme height difference would diminish my image,” Carmilla explained.
Laura nodded and kept reading. Carmilla put her papers down. Laura wasn’t wrong, she would be spending an awful lot of time with her fake fiance and running a campaign made her miserable enough. She really didn’t need an incompetent lump of a fiancee too.

If only most people weren’t so stupid.

Boys were out. No matter what her mother said she was not going to ‘suddenly become bisexual’. Not that there was anything wrong with being bisexual but there’s no way she was compounding her lies. The premiere was gay. It would be fine.

Even with half the population available, there were very few people who didn’t immediately drive her up the wall. Even Perry drove her insane half the time. Laf was usually alright. Still, Carmilla figured it was a little much to ask your campaign manager if you could borrow her person for a fake wedding.

“Alright,” Laura said, sitting back, “you’re right. This girl doesn’t exist.”

“Second attachment,” Carmilla said.

There was a few clicks then Laura said, “Is this a list of potential fiancees?”

“A veritable who’s who of Canadians,” Carmilla confirmed.

“Pshaw,” Laura scoffed, “That’s exactly what they said about the MacLean’s 30 under 30 List.”

The memory made Carmilla smile, “And it’s not a who’s who list until you’re on it?”

“You know it,” Laura said. Carmilla froze, looking down at her list as Laura continued, “They’re going to rue the day they left me off. I mean, I was on Time’s Top 100. What does MacLean’s know?”

“What if you were?” Carmilla said slowly. Her brain flashed at mile a minute as she put the pieces together. The crazy pieces.

“Trust me,” Laura grabbed another cookie, “I checked that list like 50 times. No Laura Hollis.”

“No, I,” Carmilla swallowed sharply, “What if you were on my list?”

Laura absently took a bite of cookie, “What if I was on your list? On your…” Then Laura’s head whipped up, her mouth open to reveal the bit of cookie still on her tongue.

“You asked if there was anyone I don’t hate,” Carmilla forged ahead, “that’s you. It makes the perfect story. Marriage to my best friend. That’s romantic and crap. Appeals to the voters. Plus you already know everything about me so no problem there. And think about it,” Carmilla looked back down at this list, “you fit all of these. If anything you kept me from getting a criminal record in university. You’ve interview all of the big names and you know everyone. You used to cover galas and charity events so you’re not going horrify mother by using the wrong soup spoon. You already know all of my secrets so you’re probably not going to blab about the whole fake marriage thing. You’re a journalist who was shortlisted for a freaking Pulitzer. Well respected. Your name has been on thousands of articles. You’ve got that whole cute-sexy vibe going for you so Mother couldn’t possibly have any objections on aesthetics. You’re even shorter than I am. I’m sure why you weren’t on here to begin with.”

Carmilla looked up. Laura was still staring at her, cookie slowly dissolving on her tongue. Colour was slowly rising to Laura’s face as she turned a more and more vibrant shade of red.

The paper began to stick to Carmilla’s clammy hands as she repeatedly ran her fingers over the edge. It had seemed so easy in her head, such a logical conclusion. Laura was the only person that didn’t annoy her.

Carmilla shook her head to clear it, “Sorry cupcake. Sorry. I just. That was insane. I’m a little stressed out. Sorry, forget I said anything.”

Laura put her half eaten cookie down.

“Carm,” Laura said softly, “Did you just asked me to marry you and immediately retract the offer?”

Carmilla squirmed slightly, “Fake marriage technically.”

The usual pleasant silence between them that Carmilla prized was replaced with a heavy quiet.

“Just forget about it, Cupcake,” Carmilla muttered.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Laura bounced to her feet and started pacing the room.

“Seriously, Laura, I’ll just marry” Carmilla looked back down at her list, “Elsie Gale.”

Laura abruptly stopped pacing and clicked furiously on her computer, “You are not marrying that witch.”

Carmilla’s eyebrows shot up.

“She sicced her parrot on me,” Laura said matter of factly, “In fact, having interviewed half this list and met the rest, I can safely assure you that you can’t marry any of them. I know all their dirty secrets. Illegal land grabs. Foreign offshore accounts. Secretly married,” Laura started running through the list, “Serial cheater, hates the colour yellow, hates chocolate, anti-feminist, really weird, pretty sure they’re 60, eats sushi with a fork.”

Carmilla blinked then smirked, “I don’t know. The 60 year old sounds alright.”

Laura scoffed, “Trust me.”

“Well, since you’ve vetoed my entire list,” Carmilla threw her hands up, “what would you propose I do cupcake? Marry Kirsch?”

Laura said nothing. She stared out what Carmilla knew was her office window, the light of the setting sun perfectly hitting her silhouette. The knot in Carmilla’s stomach loosened a little more as she stared at her best friend. The feeling was disconcerting but not unfamiliar.

“Hello,” Carmilla snapped at the screen, “Earth to Laura. If I can’t marry anyone on this list then I’m going to need a solution here.”

Laura took a deep breath and let everything out in one sentence, “I believe in your campaign Carm and I think you’d be good for the country and as your best friend it’s important that we stick together and since these girls are all horrible and I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one who could put up with you anyway and because you can’t bite your head off your fiancee. I guess that, yes, I will fake marry you.”

Carmilla’s jaw dropped.

“Okay, Great! Bye!” Laura’s red face disappeared as she hit the end call button.

Carmilla lunged forward, “What? Laura? Wait!” When repeatedly hitting the call button did not, in fact, bring Laura back, Carmilla leaned forward with her fingers massaging her temples and stared at the dark screen.

Will walked into her office 47 minutes later and found her in the same position.

“Whoa sis,” he plopped into the chair across from her, “You look like you got hit by a train.”

Carmilla finally looked at him, “I’m going to marry Laura Hollis.” Carmilla let the words sink into her bones and found them settling comfortably in her chest.

Will spluttered and tilted forward, “What?”

She leaned back in her chair and gave him a smirk, “I’m going to marry Laura Hollis.”

Chapter Text

“Heeeeeeey Hollis,” Betty leaned on Laura’s office door with the biggest grin, “Any more roses show up today?”

Laura’s eyes fluttered from her laptop to the four long stemmed roses in a vase on her desk. She had gotten one a day and they were slowly turning her into the hottest office gossip. Her eyes bounced to her editor, “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the status of my piece on social justice?”

“Should I be concerned about your piece on social justice?” Betty said, “Because I’ve saved a headliner for it and I mean, I could give it to Natalie if you’re not going to ready in...”

“It’ll be ready,” Laura blurted, “no problem. zilch. zippo. Totally ready.” Her fingers tightened on the mouse, there was no way she was letting Betty give her headline to Natalie. Natalie wrote puff pieces.

Betty’s grin returned, “That’s what I figured,” she leaned forward against Laura’s office chair, unable to sit on it due to the stack of papers, “so, roses.”

Laura fiddled with a few of the files on her desk, “None today.”

“And you really don’t know who they’re from?” Betty pressed.

Laura shook her head and bit her lip. Technically it was true, the roses had come without a card, always delivered by a different delivery service and paid for with a gift card. No traceable way of knowing. She’d checked. Still, Laura had a hunch.

After the twenty times Carmilla had tried to call her on Skype immediately following Laura’s rushed exit, she’d heard nothing from her best friend. Not that Laura had gotten in touch either. She was still trying to work out exactly what the next conversations was after agreeing to fake engagement with someone.

But the flowers were exactly Carmilla’s style. Being roommates had given Laura a front row seat to the Carmilla Karnstein dating experience and, if nothing else, Carmilla knew how to woo a girl.

Laura fought the blush, reaching instead for the box of cookies stashed in her desk drawer.

Betty was still eyeing her as she popped the cookie in her mouth, “There’s something you’re not telling me, Hollis. Something’s been off about you all week.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “I’ve been getting anonymous roses and turned into the key item of office gossip. Everytime I go to the break room people want to hear about my lady love.” Never mind offering to fake marry her best friend.

“Can you blame us?” Betty said, pausing briefly as the noise outside the office grew. “Little Laura Hollis with a secret admirer? We’re journalists and it’s an intriguing story. I can’t remember the last time I saw you with a girl.”

“I date,” Laura protested, spilling cookie crumbs down the front of her shirt.

“Your job,” Betty said, “you date your work, which as your editor, I love but as your friend, girl, you need to get out a little.” She held up her hand to stop Laura’s protests, “and those handful of girls you’ve dated over the last 4 years don’t count if they never got past the third date.”

Laura narrowed her eyes, “I dated Sasha for nearly a year.”

“Dating a girl to infiltrate her father’s smuggling ring doesn’t count,” Betty said.

The noise outside the office increased further.

“She’s very happy in Mexico with Charlene,” Laura protested, “they invited me to the wedding.”

“Still not a real girlfriend,” Betty practically sang the words, “and now your mystery roses start showing up? Seriously Hollis, anyone willing to put up with you and your work ethic has to have something wrong with them.”

“I’m sure my brother could give you a list. My sister would even alphabetize it for you,” A new voice rasped it’s way into the office, sending a small shiver down Laura’s spine.

She stuffed it down, “Carm,” Laura said, “you didn’t tell me you were flying into…” Laura’s voice trailed off when she saw Carmilla. Proper as ever. Blazer on the top, black jeans on the bottom, and a bouquet of red roses in her hand.

“Delivery for Laura Hollis,” Carmilla said, lifting the roses slightly.

Laura kept staring. It was one thing to suspect that Carmilla was the one sending her flowers but it was a whole other basket of fish to see her standing there, in person, after months apart, with a bouquet of roses. Not daisies or gardenias or pansies like she’d seen for other girls. Roses.

It was Betty who made Laura aware of how long she’d been silent, “Well, if Laura doesn’t want them,” Betty quipped, “I am more than happy to accept flowers from beautiful women.”

“Best of luck finding a beautiful woman to give them to you,” Carmilla said.
“Carm,” Laura chastised, snapping to attention, “Be nice. This is my boss. Betty Spelsdorf. You know, capable of firing me if my snippy,” Laura stumbled as she searched for the word. BFF? Finance? This is what she got for panicking and hanging up, “my snippy friend keeps being snide.”

“Well, I suppose it’s just because I don’t like when a girl refuses my flowers,” Carmilla said, holding up the bouquet, “I mean, I did fly all this way, cupcake, and call all those imbecilic florists. The one didn’t know his American Beauty roses from his Enchantress.”

Laura shook her head and took the bouquet, softly inhaling the scent, “And which was the right choice?”

Carmilla gave her a smirk, “If you’re sending me flowers then the Enchantress fits, but you are clearly an American Beauty girl.”

Laura buried her face deeper in the flowers, hoping it would cover her smile. She was not giving Carmilla the satisfaction.

It didn’t help when Betty shot her the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen, “So,” Betty turned, “you must be Carmilla Karnstein.”

“Must, I be?” Carmilla quipped as Laura turned to find the roses some water.

“As if I could forget that my star reporter is friends with the rising prodigy of the political world,” Betty said, “or the only girl who is constant in my friend’s life. I don’t suppose you know why this girl can’t hold a date? Perhaps,” Laura could hear Betty’s insinuation, “she’s otherwise occupied?”

Laura bit back a groan, Betty was getting the entirely wrong idea about her relationship with Carmilla. Always had. It was not weird to skype your old roommate every week. Friends did that. Best friends.

Without warning, Carmilla was around the desk and her hand snaked itself around Laura’s waist, yanking her back and pulling her flush against Carmilla’s body, “Well, I couldn’t say how Laura spends the majority of her time but, I do believe I know how she’ll be occupying her next hour.”

Laura refused to cave to the purr in Carmilla’s voice. She hadn’t expected the acting to start quite this early.

“Do you now?” Laura said, turning to rearrange the roses even as she remained trapped in Carmilla’s arms, “for all you know, I’m busy?”

“Too busy for me?” Carmilla said, “Really? After I flew all this way and brought you flowers and everything?”

Laura rolled her eyes, “You’re not as smooth as you think you are Miss Karnstein. Flowers are lovely, but not the way to a girl’s heart.”

With a vicious smirk, Carmilla’s hand reached around Laura into the large black leather bag hanging off her arm. Carmilla carefully lifted out a plastic container and flipped back the lid. She held the box toward Laura, “Cupcake for a cupcake?”

Laura grinned, reaching out to grab the small cupcake with dark blue icing and tiny silver star sprinkles.

Carmilla snapped the container shut just before her fingers could get there, “Patience cupcake, dinner before dessert. I’m taking you out for lunch. Something more than sugar in that tiny system of yours.”

“Withholding baked goods,” Laura said, squinting, “is not the way to my heart.”

“You’re assuming that I’m not already there,” Carmilla smirked.

“Not with that attitude,” Laura folded her arms.

Carmilla shrugged, “Oh well,” Laura’s eyes followed the cupcake container as it descended back into Carmilla’s bag, “Guess I’ll just go to lunch by myself with my baked goods.”

“You’re assuming that I even have time to go to lunch,” Laura said, “What if I’m busy?”

“She’s got time,” Both women looked over to see Betty grinning at them, “As her boss, I’m making her have time.”

#

Laura looked around the bustling restaurant, “Pulling out all the stops I see, Carm.”

“Only for you, cupcake,” Carmilla said.

People flowed in and out of the fast food joint, the building coating everyone who entered it in the smell of greasy french fries until it filled every pore. They’d discovered the hole in the wall during their first year of college when Laura had been rip roaring drunk and had forcibly yanked Carmilla from a party because she was ‘sick of this antagonistic roommate crap’. They’d somehow ended up lost and with a deep craving for cheeseburgers.

The best friendships are formed by drunken hamburger hang-outs under the stars.

Carmilla snatched the bulging take-out bag from the the cashier and Laura followed her out of the restaurant, unsurprised when Carmilla passed by the sad looking patio chairs. Laura took the lead, weaving through back alleys until they came to the small park shoved between an old church and some sketchy apartment buildings.

She plopped down under the large willow tree as Carmilla settled against the tree trunk and tossed her a cheeseburger.

Laura unwrapped it slowly, examining the meat before putting it anywhere near her mouth. Last time Carmilla had tricked her into biting a veggie burger. Her tastebuds had complained for weeks. Fortunately, this burger looked safe.

Unfortunately, that meant there was nothing to help her not notice the silence.

Contrary to popular belief, Laura didn’t mind silence. She’d learned since university that sometimes a good bout of comfortable silence between friends said just as much as a rambled phrase. This however was not the good kind.

And so the word burst from her, “Hey!”

“Hey,” Carmilla said, then, “I didn’t realize that we were still in the formal introduction phase of our relationship.”

Laura blushed and said, “Well, I just, wasn’t sure what else to say.”

“When has that ever stopped you?” Carmilla ripped a ferocious bite from her burger that would have made her mother faint if the press saw it.

Laura spent one second trying to arrange the words before giving them up and letting them fly, “Well cause we haven’t talked since the whole, you know, the whole thing and I know that it’s my fault because I hung up on you and I really shouldn’t have done that. It was like super rude and I’m sorry but I’m pretty sure you’re not mad because you’re here and you’re sending me roses which would be nice except it totally made everyone gossip about me and I’m not even sure if you’re sending me roses or if the roses are just for the thing that we talked about or if they’re sorry for asking about the thing and i should have just called you but I didn’t and I’m not sure why and-”

Suddenly a rolled up ball of burger paper hit her in the face.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said, “Breathe.”

Laura gulped down a breath and sucked down the grape soda Carmilla had gotten.

Carmilla waited until she was in the middle of chugging the beverage, “I have to say, this is the first time a girl has complained about flowers. Usually the reaction is more, like, touch my breasts.”

Choking, Laura fought to keep the liquid from spewing everywhere as she tried to drink and inhale at the same time. When the tears in her eyes finally cleared, Carmilla was smirking at her, “Not cool.” Laura wheezed.

“But entertaining,” Carmilla said.

“And to clarify,” Laura said, “I liked the flowers but I just wasn’t sure why exactly you were sending them to me or what’s going on here. Are we dating? Fake dating?” She was quick to clarify, “or did you decide not to do the whole, um, the whole thing.”

Now Carmilla’s grin was wicked, “What whole thing?”

Laura’s eyes widened, “You know, the thing, that we talked about.”

“No idea,” Carmilla said.

“Caaaaaaarm,” Laura whined, “don’t you dare. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m doing you the favour here.”

Carmilla sighed and sat up, “Why do you think I’m here, cupcake? The smoggy Toronto air? The traffic on the 401? The forever losing Maple Leafs? I’m here so we can talk about this.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Carmilla Karnstein?” Laura waved her hand in front of Carmilla’s face.

Carmilla caught Laura’s hand in her own. Absently, Laura noted how soft they were. Rich people and their moisturizer. “Laura,” Carmilla said, leaning forward, “Seriously. I don’t want to ask you do anything that you feel uncomfortable doing.”

Laura looked up. Carmilla’s eyes were dark and still, “So you really weren’t joking? You want to go through with it? With me?”

“I wasn’t joking, cupcake,” Carmilla said, “I really need to do this to have a shot at the election. And I can’t think of anyone else that I would rather get fake engaged to then you. i trust you.” Carmilla’s eyes bounced down, “But if you don’t want to or feel it wouldn’t be right then I entirely understand and I don’t want you getting into anything that you’re not ready for.” Carmilla’s hand slipped back slightly, “Unless, you were joking the other day-”

“No!” Laura said, grabbing Carmilla’s hand tighter “No! I mean, I really do want to help you and if this is the best way to do it. Then I’m happy to help. Ecstatic. It’ll be great.” Laura was vaguely aware that her voice was an octave higher than it should have been, “That’s what friends do right? It’ll be like an adventure and you know that I’m always down for an adventure. Slaying dragons, yada, yada.”

Carmilla looked at her cautiously, “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Laura said, “Ok?”

“Ok.”

Carmilla’s face cracked into a small smile and Laura grinned back.

“Well alright then,” Laura said, “We better work out the logistics before I have to get back.”

Reaching for her cell phone, Carmilla typed a quick text and said, “Logistics?”

“Duh!” Laura said, “When we started dating, how we fell in love, all that important stuff. We’ve got so much history that we can probably just tweak stuff from friends stuff to dating stuff. Oh, and we need why we didn’t tell anyone.” She paused, “I’m surprised your mom didn’t make a list. What’s she think of all this?”

“A little surprised,” Carmilla said, her knee bouncing slightly “but she didn’t give me a list. So let’s hear the plan, cupcake.”

“How do you know I have a plan?” Laura frowned.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “You’ve had a week to sit on the idea of this whole fake marriage thing. Of course, you’ve got a plan. Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t picked out some kind of dumb nerdy table settings yet.”

“Deathly Hallows sectional bowls full of candy are not dumb. They’re great, they’re practical and people will have candy right at the tables and who doesn’t love Harry Potter. Plus it’s like super representative of the different types of life and love and - “ Laura started.

Carmilla’s groan cut through her words even as the smile stayed on her face, “You’re going to be one of those fiancees, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Laura said, “You haven’t even asked me to marry you. I’m not any kind of fiancee yet.”

“Didn’t realize you were so eager, cupcake,” Carmilla shot back, “Dinner before dessert, remember?”

Laura narrowed her eyes, “You owe me a cupcake.”

“Logistics first.”

#

Laura still wasn’t happy with the depth of their dating backstory as they walked back towards her office, “What do you mean, you don’t know when you fell in love with me?” she said, “that’s kind of important, Carm.”

Carmilla shrugged, “If someone asks, I’m sure I can make something up.”

Laura was about to protest, when Carmilla reached over and wrapped her arm around Laura’s waist. Again.

Laura shot her a look.

“Just living up to your logistics, creampuff,” Carmilla said, “we have, of course, been dating for nearly 2 years. I think I’m entitled to a little walking cuddle.”

Laura shrugged and kept talking, “Seriously though. Our first date should not be at the burger joint. That’s boring. Cute. But boring. We should make it the solarium or the zoo or something. The aquarium maybe!”

“I like the burger joint,” Carmilla mumbled.

“I do too,” Laura was quick to reassure, “that’s why I don’t want to use it. It’s, like, our place. The zoo is more neutral and we went there all the time because someone has a thing for the panthers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carmilla said, “they’re just glorious black masters of the night. Poetry on four feet. Nothing to write home about.”

Laura spun out of Carmilla grasp to push against the building’s front door with her back. She smiled up at Carmilla as she felt the door give way behind her, “Sure, Carm. Don’t think that I don’t know you a little better than that.”

She took a few steps backward and then spun around to face the lobby as they cleared the door and Carmilla fell back in beside her.

Laura stopped cold as her brain took in what was around her. Mouth hanging slightly open.

Cupcakes. There were cupcakes everywhere coating the lobby in delicious desserts. A part of her brain noted her coworkers gathered in the corner but the majority of her brain was focused on the sheer amount of sugar around her. There were cupcakes covering the reception desk. Cupcakes on the lounge chairs and the tables. Tiers of cupcakes going to the ceiling. Circular raised trays of cupcakes artfully arranged across the the floor. The room was full of the smell of sugar and chocolate as Laura gasped in air. There must have been at least a couple hundred cupcakes. All with a deep blue icing and tiny silver sprinkles. Like the night sky had been painted across a baked delight.

Like the cupcake Carmilla had shown her earlier.

Carmilla.

Laura turned, eyes wide, to see an empty space where Carmilla’s head had been moments ago. Then she looked down. Carmilla was on one knee, the cupcake container from earlier in her hand, lid open and the same cupcake staring back at her.

Except there was a silver ring in the center of the icing.

Laura’s eyes bobbed between the cupcake ring and Carmilla’s face. Her hands rose to her face involuntarily. Feeling the raging rush of a blush surge into her cheeks even as she took in the faint pink on Carmilla’s face and the small smile on her lip. The barely noticeable tremble in Carmilla’s hands.

Just a glimpse of fear in her eyes that wisped away before Laura could be sure she actually saw it.

Carmilla’s words washed away all other rational thought, “Cupcake,” Carmilla said, “Laura. You were the tiny ball of sunlight that burst into my broody college life and refused to let me brood in peace. You talked and you made chore wheels and you yelled at me for being messy and you talked some more and you ate far too much sugar but somewhere along the way you forced me to be your friend. Your tiny ball of sunlight became something to pull me out of my own darkness. And I was happy to have a friend like you. A best friend.”

Laura swallowed hard as a lump formed in her throat and kept her eyes locked on Carmilla’s.

“And while you forced me to be your friend,” Carmilla continued, hand still shaking slightly, “with all of your vibrant, unavoidable sunshine. Something more subtle happened along the way. Something we slipped into without even noticing. You weren’t just sunshine anymore. I couldn’t confine you to a single ball in the sky, no matter how bright it was. You became every star in the night sky. Every light in my life, everything that I have ever loved most. A constant to the shifting of the universe. Constellations beyond what I could count or fathom or understand. And I simply count myself lucky that something as bright as your light would ever deign to dance within my dark sky. But you do. And I never want to let that go. I never want to let you go. I want to dance across the sky together until time and eternity fade into one because I couldn’t image the sky without you. And so,” Carmilla took a deep breath, “Laura Hollis, cupcake, will you marry me?”

And for once Laura found herself speechless. Fire prickling at the edges of her eyes and threatening to spill across her face.

But if she couldn’t speak she could act. Laura reached forward and plucked the ring from the cupcake and slid it down her finger, coating the digit in the deep blue icing.

She stared at it for a moment before looking back down at Carmilla. Carmilla, who was staring up at her, the biggest smile on her face.

And that smile tore the word from Laura’s throat, “Yes.” She giggled and repeated, “Yes, you silly, broody, philosophical, mess of a best friend. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

The office burst into applause. She yanked Carmilla to her feet. Carmilla came, stumbling slightly, barely saving the cupcake from tumbling to the ground. It was then, with their faces so close together and Carmilla’s breath on her face, that Laura clicked back into reality.

So she smiled and dodged her face around Carmilla’s, going for the hug, “You know,” she whispered, “you really didn’t have to bribe me with this many cupcakes. I’d already said yes.”

Carmilla’s body tensed slightly under her own, drawing back. They paused for a moment, both girls saying nothing, just staring at each other.

“Actually,” there was something different about Carmilla’s smile, then it was gone, replaced with a smirk, “the cupcakes are for the office. Garner some good press. Besides,” Carmilla poked her in the side, “the last thing I need is a finance hyped up on sugar product.”

Laura shrieked as Carmilla hit her ticklish spot and, purely as a defense mechanism and certainly not because she wanted to, grabbed the engagement cupcake and shoved it in Carmilla’s face.

Just like that, as Carmilla blinked at her from behind a layer of cake and frosting, the real smile came back.

Chapter Text

“Miss Karnstein,” the voices were all overlapping shouts but the words were the same, “how do you respond to the accusations that you’re only getting married to try and secure your political position?”

Carmilla grunted and pushed through the faint trail Kirsch left behind as the bodyguard tried to clear a path for them from the car to Laura’s apartment. The crowd was the usual mix, press peppered with the most ardent supporters of her opponent looking for a good heckle. This is what happened when the hotel somehow loses the reservation.

“Carmilla! Why were you keeping your relationship with Miss Hollis a secret from the public?”

Carmilla bit her tongue to keep the words down, relishing in the sharp pain. She turned her head slightly to make sure that Laura was still right behind her. The reporter caught her eye and gave her a tight smile, nodding to keep going.

Kirsch waved them on, using his significant bulk to block a particularly aggressive cameraman.

She could practically feel Laura glaring at him. Better break out the box of cookies before Laura could get on a rant about the ‘decline of journalism’ and ‘self fulfilling prophecy’ and ‘shoving a camera in someone’s face isn’t investigation, Carm.’

The current record rant was 3 hours and fourteen minutes. It was also one of Carmilla’s key points in the continual debate on who was the more level headed person in the friendship.

Laura had even made a powerpoint.

Which Carmilla considered a point in her favour.

“Will you be using Miss Hollis’s position at the paper to further your publicity?”

Another shout broke through the noise of the crowd, “How much are you paying this slut to pretend to love you?”

Carmilla whirled, immediately narrowing in on the bulky meathead who had dared to utter those words. Call Laura that. Her feet moved forward of their own regard, cutting from the path Kirsch had left. Vaguely, she saw the bodyguard move in her direction, his head easily visible over the crowd.

Carmilla’s vision narrowed to just the meathead. Words echoing in her mind. Slut. Pay. Love.

Pretend.

She could take him. That ignorant imbecile of a man would-

A small set of warm fingers latched onto her wrist, pulling Carmilla back. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon immediately cutting through the red in her vision. Laura’s breath ghosted over her ear, raising goosebumps on her neck, as Laura pulled her close. “Not worth it Carm.” Laura’s thumb stroked her wrist, “He doesn’t know what he’d talking about. He wants you to make a scene.”

Carmilla took a deep, shuddering breath and moved her free hand over Laura’s, ignoring the flash of the cameras. The coolest hint of metal brushed her palm, as the diamond in Laura’s ring reminded her of its presence. She pressed a little harder, letting it imprint into her palm.

“Let it go,” Laura said.

Nodding, Carmilla swung Laura around to bring her arm around her best friends shoulder. Laura gave a little squeal of approval, melting into Carmilla’s side and letting her arm drift up around Carmilla’s waist.

The noise of the crowd disappeared.

She hadn’t even known two people could fit together like that.

Still, words had to be answered for. Carmilla locked eyes with the man, giving him her best glare. The one she’d inherited from her mother. The one she’d been convinced could actually set things on fire.

He winced.

She smirked.

#

“Was that really necessary?” Laura looked up at Carmilla as they finally cleared her apartment’s lobby and made it safely into the elevator. She was still snuggled in under Carmilla’s arm, after all, with Kirsch in the elevator with them they had to keep up appearances.

The fact that Carmilla’s waist was exactly the right height for her arm and the perfect kind of warm and the best smell like old leather books had nothing to do with it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Carmilla said.

“Sure,” Laura said, “of course not.”

“However,” Carmilla continued, “if someone happens to have interpreted something in my look that indicates that my fiancee is strictly off limits, well, that’s not my problem.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “Not the glare Carm. Although that was equally unnecessary. You were going to punch that guy in the face. That could have ruined everything.”

“Was I?” Carmilla said.

Laura looked up, frowning as she caught the twinge of a smile on Carmilla’s face as she avoided Laura’s gaze.

“Yes.” Laura said, “you were.”

“You’re imagining things, cupcake.” Carmilla said.

Laura couldn’t help but scrunch her nose. Carmilla was being intentionally insufferable again and while it might have been slightly more tolerable when she was wrapped under the warmth that was her best friend, Laura was not about to let it slid, “Kirsch?”

The bodyguard looked over from his place by the door, “Mrs Karnstein gave me strict instructions for propriety when I’m on duty, Miss Hollis.”

Carmilla snorted, “I bet she did.”

“Come on Kirsch,” Laura said, “We’re in an elevator. We don’t need a bodyguard, I need my best bro.”

At the word ‘bro’, Carmilla groaned in exasperation and buried her nose into Laura’s hair. Laura rolled her eyes, keeping the grin on her face flashing towards Kirsh as she felt Carmilla smile into the side of her head.

She’d bother Carmilla about that later.

Kirsch perked up, “On your bro-honour?”

Laura raised her free hand in the air, “On my bro-honour.”

Suddenly the bodyguard was gone and they were in the elevator with the same smiling frat boy that Laura had tutored in university and then forced Carmilla to take on as her personal bodyguard because the last one had proven corruptible.

And sexy. But mostly the corruptible.

“Little nerd,” Kirsch said with a grin, “scary hottie was totally about to sock that dude upside the head to defend your honour or whatever.”

Laura turned, breaking from Carmilla’s grasp to shoot her friend her best triumphant face, “Hah!”

Carmilla frowned then stepped back from Laura to retreat into the far corner of the elevator, “whatever,” she mumbled.

The cool air of the elevator poked through Laura’s clothes, raising goosebumps along her side as Carmilla’s warmth slowly dissipated. WIthout thinking it over, Laura moved forward, bumping her shoulder into Carmilla’s side, “Who says you don’t know how to treat a girl, right?” Laura quipped, “harassing innocent questionably-talented reporters and all that.” Rather than moving away after the bump, she stayed pressed up against Carmilla. Shoulder to shoulder.

“A long list of exes might disagree with you” Carmilla said, shifting slightly. Hip to hip.

“Yeah, but dude,” Kirsch cut in, “those girls weren’t your girl.”

Laura stared at Kirsch, bunching her nose as she tried to decipher what was undoubtedly another burst of dude speak. From the corner of her eye, she could see Carmilla squinting at him, “Sorry,” Laura said, “You’re going to have to walk us through that one.”

“Dudes!” Kirsch said, “You didn’t figure it out? Well cause even when you guys were dating all those other people, you didn’t actually like them,” Kirsh grinned at them, “like, you didn’t like them like them. Cause you couldn’t because you liked each other.” They stared at him. “Oh come on.” Kirsch said, “so obvious dudes. Like that time when little Laur was supposed to be at her one year anniversary dinner and totally bailed because Laf didn’t know that she was on a date and texted her that Carmilla had locked herself in the bedroom and they couldn’t figure out why.”

Beside her, Carmilla stiffened at the memory. Air between their hips.

“Or that time” Kirsch continued, “when scary hottie and I were at that club cause it was Will’s b-day and we couldn’t find Carmilla anywhere until she comes barrelling out of the bathroom, super disheveled, with her phone in her hand and shoves people out of the way to get to the door. And then this totally smoking ten with her pants basically falling off comes running out of the bathroom after her,” Kirsch’s eyes glazed slightly over, “but scary hottie doesn’t even see her cause she’s talking on her phone and whisks out into the night. Total left this hottie high and dry. So, cause we’re total bros, Will and I go after Carmilla. And when we finally find her, you’re together because, Laur, you're totally freaked yourself out by watching that scary movie that we made you promise you wouldn’t because we knew it would give you nightmares.”

“There were creepy dolls,” Laura protested weakly, thoughts no longer on the conversation as she leaned back against the elevator wall. She hadn’t known that’s where they’d been when she’d called. She’d just assumed they were having drinks or something.

Air between their shoulders.

“But you guys totally figured that out!” Kirsch said, “cause you’re engaged and totally in love and it’s awesome because you guys are great together. I mean, yeah, I lost the bet but I lost it a long time ago so I can just be happy that you finally got it-”

The elevator doors dinged open onto Laura’s floor. Saving her from the flood of thoughts. She automatically stepped forward and traversed the hallway to her apartment. With every step, she was hyper-aware of Carmilla behind her and, to calm herself, she rang her hands together.

Which only made her more aware of the ring on her left hand.

Laura ran her left thumb over the platinum band, feeling the the tiny diamonds set into the metal, before spinning the whole thing around to press against the largest central diamond. A part of her was surprised that Carmilla had been able to stick with a modest rock. If nothing else, Carmilla Karnstein was possessive.

The other part wasn’t surprised, Carmilla knew her too well to ever get her something that ostentatious. And impractical.

She reached for her key, then froze at the door. “Kiiiirsch,” she stuttered.

The door was open.

The bodyguard came bounding forward, one hand slipping towards his gun as the other meaty hand pushed her into Carmilla and then the pair of them back towards the wall. Carmilla’s arms came up to surround her at the impact and Laura’s instincts had her clutching at the soft hands.

Kirsch leaned against the wall, pausing for a moment. Then he rocketed forward, bursting through the door with a shout and his gun raised. Laura’s squeeze on Carmilla’s arms tightened as their friend disappeared through the doorway.

There was a moment of silence where the air seemed to press in, crowding against her as a thousand possibilities swam through her head, until only the arms around her seemed to hold her up. Then Laura snapped back to reality. She leaned forward, breaking from Carmilla’s grasp to chase after Kirsch and make sure that everything was okay.

She never should have let him charge in their alone. Carmilla had some really whack-a-doodle fans and haters and who knows what could have happened to-

She got maybe half a step away before Carmilla’s hand pulled her back by the neck of her shirt, cutting into her airway and effectively stopping her protest.

“Laura, it’s his job.” Carmilla said immediately, “He’s fine.”

She caught her breath, yanking back, “He’s our friend, we can’t just leave-”

“Hey guys,” this time it was Kirsch who cut her off. He was standing ramrod straight outside the door but his face was sheepish, “false alarm. Go ahead.”

Carmilla sighed, quirked an eyebrow at Laura, and slunk past them into the apartment. Scowling, Laura followed, pausing only to give Kirsch a quick hug on her way. She passed through the door and had barely thrown her keys into the dish by the door when she rammed into Carmilla’s back.

She peered around Carmilla and immediately swallowed her scowl. Carmilla’s mother was staring at them. a cool smile on her face from where she was perched on the edge of Laura’s sofa as though the brightly coloured pattern offended her power suit, “Close the door please,” she said. Kirsch did so immediately. Remaining out in the hallway.

“Well darling,” Mrs Karnstein said, her expression darkening immediately, “I suppose it’s good to see that the bodyguard you insisted on hiring isn’t entirely incompetent. Unlike some people in this room.”

Laura had met Carmilla’s mother before. Multiple times in fact. That woman in no way resembled this one. Mrs Karnstein certainly hadn’t been affectionate but she’d always been extremely cordial. A small smile topped by no nonsense eyes and nothing but praise for ‘her darling daughter who was going to go so far.’ A handshake for everyone.

Laura had actually taken notes on networking once simply by observing her at a party.

This woman in no way resembled the one she’d seen before. This woman had the hard eyes, tight lips, and clipped tone of a woman who Carmilla had only mentioned in subtext. A family history that Carmilla’s eyes had always forbade her from asking about.

The kind of woman Laura had wondered about as she ran home from dates because there was thunder in the sky and even though Carmilla wouldn’t tell her why that was a reason to lock herself away, Laura knew that it was.

Her best friend seemed to deflate. Carmilla folded in on herself, chin dropping as her hands folded in front of her, “Mother,” she said, “I didn’t realize you were coming down.”

“I wouldn’t have needed to come down,” Mrs Karnstein said, “if you’d simply extended the courtesy of discussing your plans with me before enacting your imbecilic scheme without my permission.”

“I was trying to do as you asked,” Carmilla said.

“What I asked?” Mrs Karnstein laughed and Laura’s hadn’t known that a laugh could sound so cold, “Mircalla, what I asked was for you to complete a simple campaign requirement. I even gave you some free reign on the matter, that’s how generous I am. What I asked was so simple that I hadn’t conceived that there was a possibility you could mess it up.” Her eyes bounced to Laura before returning to Carmilla, “clearly, even my low expectations for you are beyond your capabilities.”

Laura’s mouth opened slightly as she stared at Carmilla’s mother.

Carmilla’s voice was barely a whisper, “She fits your profile. You said I could choose”

“From my list darling,” Mrs Karnstein said, “Choose from my list. A list which quite clearly did not include this. If this,” she sniffed the word, “was a viable option then I promise you, it would have been on list. And was this on my list?” She stared at Carmilla.

“No.” Carmilla said.

Mrs Karnstein nodded, “like I said Mircalla, a simple task. Choose from the list, yet, once again as always, you’re proven to be deficient in even the simplest form of political acumen. I mean really, I know that you’re prone to irrational flights of fancy and I can’t blame anyone but myself for not better choosing your father’s DNA.” Carmilla’s mother picked an invisible speck of dust off her clothes, “But jeopardizing our career to indulge your own misplaced desires. Darling, you know better than that. And now,” Laura found herself locked under the dark gaze, “we’re stuck with this one.”

Laura paused for a moment, mentally shaking off the dark eyes and waiting for Carmilla to say anything. Nothing came. Carmilla stared at her shoes.

“This one,” Laura lifted her chin, “has a name. It’s Laura. Laura Hollis. We’ve met before. Your daughter’s best friend? In the past I’d been a received a tad more warmly.”

Mrs Karnstein’s smile returned but there was no warmth in it, “I am well aware of who you are Miss Hollis. Due to my daughter's inability to follow even simple instructions, I am forced to consider you a temporary member of this family. Thus, our current position wherein I am allowing this discussion to occur in your presence. Rather than sending you into the hallway with the help. And quite frankly, Miss Hollis, your blunt words have only serviced to demonstrate my issues with this arrangement.”

“Hold on,” Laura shook her head, took a step forward, and raised a finger, “this arrangement? All this is because you’re taking issue with my engagement to Carmilla?”

“You were not on my list,” Mrs Karnstein folded her hands in her lap, “And my instructions to Mircalla were clearly stated to choose someone on the list as they’d all been hand vetted and perfectly suited to our needs.”

“Perfectly suited-” Laura started.

“Never mind,” Mrs Karnstein continued over Laura, “the blatant disregard for my hard work towards her campaign and going behind my back to enlist a candidate outside of our scope of interest. But I’d already pinpointed what the approved list members would require in order to participate in this transaction and, despite what Mircalla may have promised you Miss Hollis, without my permission she is in no position to offer you financial remuneration or other compensation in exchange for your -”

“Perfectly suited?” This time the words blasted from Laura and she barely paused to appreciate the small moment of shock on Mrs Karnstein’s face at the volume of her words.

She wasn’t a reporter for nothing “Financial remuneration? Carm hasn’t promised me anything in exchange for this, I’m her friend so I agreed to help her out. How dare you insinuate that I would ever be paid to do a favour for a friend, never mind my best friend. I don’t want even a cent of your money. Carmilla is amazing and I’m happy to help her.”

Mrs Karnstein opened her mouth but Laura was just warming up, something sparking inside her blood as she recalled the words, “And let’s go back to perfectly suited,” Laura held back the snarl, setting her face into her best ‘cracking the interview’ face, “I don’t know whether I’m more offended that you think any of those women are perfectly suited for Carmilla or that you would dare to insinuate that I don’t have a place on your precious list. Because, sweet petunias, if you think that any of those women would be able to put up with Carmilla for more than a week for any amount of money, you’re deluding yourself. If you think they’re perfect political companions with clean backstories then I’ve got some files to show you. And if you think that they could possibly be more invested in this Carmilla for money over friendship then I’m sorry for the kind of friends you’ve had.”

“Laura,” Carmilla tried to cut in.

Laura whirled, “Nope,” she said, “Still mad at you for telling me that you’d talked to your mother about this when clearly, you did not. So shush.”

She whipped back towards Carmilla’s mother, “I do not appreciate being talked down to or talked around. Let’s get something very clear here, list or otherwise. There is no-one more perfectly suited for this than I am and Carmilla was, apparently, the only one smart enough to see it. Because she’d brilliant. I’m dedicated to helping her. I already know her secrets. We’ve got backstory to feed the press. I literally minored in press relations and just might know a few member of the press. I know how to handle myself in a room full of pretentious bad people.” Laura took another step forward, “What else was on that list? I’m an excellent writer. Well known in my field. Maybe you heard of that time I almost won a Pulitzer? Squeaky clean background. Good ol’ Canadian girl. Know how to ski and play hockey and everything. I know how to handle a dessert fork. I’m even shorter than Carm, for Pete’s sake, so you don’t have to worry about me overshadowing her or whatever. Not that I ever could.”

Laura paused for breath, taking a small moment of triumphant in the tiny smile flitting across Carmilla’s face even as her head stayed down.

“You’re also rambunctious,” Mrs Karnstein stood, locking eyes with Laura, “you speak without thinking and you’re patently blunt. Your reporting has made enemies of people that we’d prefer to be allies. Certainly your authenticity can be used to our advantage but it also makes you unpredictable and likely to go off script.” Laura was spared the force of the glare only because it moved to Carmilla, “likely to pull Mircalla off script. You’re a distraction Miss Hollis,” the eyes came back, “and a variable. Both of which are problems in a campaign that needs to be closely monitored due to it’s importance to us and the country.” Mrs Karnstein took a few steps forward, bearing down on her, “And do you know why this particular election is so important, Miss Hollis?”

Laura stood her ground, “It’s a byelection. As the incumbent has stepped down, there’s a real chance for your party to step in.”

“It’s not just a byelection,” Carmilla’s mother said, “what you apparently have not realized is that Mircalla’s election is the only thing separating us from a majority government.”

Laura frowned, “there are three ongoing byelections.”

“The other two members of our party will lose in their respective ridings,” Mrs Karnstein waved a hand flippantly.

“You can’t know that.’ Laura said.

“I do.” Mrs Karnstein said.

Laura frowned.

Carmilla’s mother continued, “As there’s no chance that anyone outside of the two key parties will be elected, we know that a representative from the current government will be elected in both regions. This will leave our current government one seat short of a majority. Effectively, one seat short of complete power in the House of Commons.”

Mrs Karnstein eyed Carmilla, “Stand up straight, darling.” Carmilla’s shoulders instantly bounced into place. “The only thing,” Mrs Karnstein said, “standing in the way of that majority is our sweet Mircalla here. She wins, a minority government remains in place and the position of the House is more equalized. She loses and the power is completely given to one party.”

“You’re assuming a majority government is a bad thing,” Laura tried, “it’s typically more efficient.”

“Fine,” Mrs Karnstein sniffed, “I don’t expect you to understand the intricacies of the House.” Laura bristled as she continued, “Let’s narrow our focus to something you do claim to care oh so much about. Your fiancee.” The label was drawled out like someone trying to wipe a bad taste off their tongue. “You do care about Mircalla, no?”

Laura took a step to the left, cutting between Carmilla and her mother, “Of course I do. I care about Carm more than just about anything.”

“Well then,” the suddenly lightness in Carmilla’s mother’s tone somehow made the room feel heavy, “Let’s assume that I know our party will fail in the other two ridings, shall we? Leaving Mircalla’s riding as the key swing between a majority and a minority government. Should Mircalla somehow manage to keep herself in check for the remainder of this campaign and I perform so well as to see her elected, then how do you think our party would react?” She raised an eyebrow at Laura with an expression so familiar to Carmilla’s and yet so cold that it twisted something in Laura’s gut.

“Favourably.” Laura said.

“Favourably is an understatement,” Mrs Karnstein said, “All eyes will be on my glittering girl. The party will feel indebted to us for keeping them relevant. They’ll be lavishing us for years, especially for pulling such a key riding out from under our opponents. Nothing but a front bench seat for my girl and key positions within the party. Keeping us in control of the situation. Another few years to eliminate any concerns about age and establish a suitable marriage, when our current lackwit of a leader is finally forced to step aside, Mircalla will already have the support she needs to lead the party. After that, it’s a simple matter for me to bring the party in line and best our opponents at their own game, and the country will once again have a Prime Minister Karnstein.”

Laura gaped slightly at the plan laid in front of her, the ease with which Mrs Karnstein spoke of it, and the lack of a response from Carmilla.

Mrs Karnstein used her silence to continue, “As you can see Miss Hollis, the plan for Mircalla’s life has already been set out. The variables accounted for. I was kind enough to accommodate the deviation that your friendship made to the plan on account of our journalistic contacts.”

Laura’s mouth closed and her eyes narrowed at the word ‘deviation’. “But,” Mrs Karnstein bore down on her, forcing Laura to look up at the much taller woman. She didn’t move though, keeping herself firmly in front of Carmilla.

“But,” Mrs Karnstein said again, “I will not tolerate any major deviations to the plan including your ill advised engagement.”

Laura crossed her arms, “You can’t break us up. It would look bad.”

“No, Miss Hollis,” Mrs Karnstein said, “as you so aptly pointed out, we are stuck with proceeding through with Mircalla’s selfish choices, regardless of the harm she has ungratefully caused me. I am not here to break you up.”

Laura let out a deep exhale as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. She looked over at Carmilla. Her friends head had lifted slightly, eyes wide as though the entire situation was the most shocking thing she had ever encountered.

Mrs Karnstein continued, “I am here to ensure that we are all on the same page. Our priority is ensuring that my daughter has a successful campaign and is elected.”

“We are on the same page.” Laura said, “All I want is to help Carm.”

Carmilla’s mother nodded sharply, “Then I will take care of the rest of the details.” She lifted her phone from her pocket to her ear, “You can let him in now, Mr. Kirsch.”

Finally, Carmilla rejoined the conversation, “Let who in?”

“Laurasaur!” Laura froze as her father’s voice and heavy footsteps entered the apartment, “how could you not tell your old man that you had a girlfriend? Or that you got engaged!”

Whoops.

Chapter Text

Carmilla flopped onto her bed and pulled the blanket over her head with a groan. Seven days. She’d been back in Ottawa for a week and the only thing running through her head was one Laura Hollis. This was ridiculous. She’d gone months with only seeing Laura through Skype in the past and now suddenly two days felt like eternity.

Her side literally felt like it was colder than the rest of her body.

Carmilla tugged the blanket tighter. She had to pull herself together. Perry was coming over soon to talk her through some press conference her mother had assembled for the afternoon.

She poked out from the blanket and looked over at the bedside table, the notepad that was supposed to contain her speech was mockingly blank. Barely a few sentences scratched across the top of the page.

She shouldn’t even be missing Laura. Her best friend had literally driven her to the airport to catch her flight. Before that, she had been inundated with Hollises. It was dinner with Papa Hollis. Lunch with Papa Hollis. Bear hugs from Papa Hollis. “I knew you two were always meant to be” Papa Hollis. The only times she hadn’t had two Hollises hanging around were when Laura’s father had whisked her away right after his exuberant bounding into Laura’s apartment, the brief time she’d spent at her own hotel, and the ride to the airport.

She shouldn’t be missing Laura. She’d been there the whole time.

Carmilla’s hand tapped against the bed. Although it would have been nice if they’d had even a moment of privacy instead of people fluttering about everywhere. Telling them they made such a great couple and they looked so in love.

Which was ridiculous.

People were so easy to fool. They were just best friends. Almost nothing had changed. Arms still slotted together when they walked. Carmilla still tried to keep Laura’s hair from frizzing everywhere. Laura squeezed her hand when their fingers locked together. Lots of hugs.

Laura was just touchy. And it was only normal that, as her best friend, Carmilla didn’t mind it from her. Everyone else could keep their hands to themselves.

Put a ring on one of their fingers and suddenly they were ‘so in love’.

An image of Laura’s left hand on her own, ring flashing in the sunlight as Laura smiled at her, popped into her head. Laura yelling at her mother, the band glinting as she moved her hands.

Her ring. Laura’s finger. Hers.

“Go away,” Carmilla muttered through a dry mouth at the mental picture.

The effort to banish the image proved as unsuccessful as it had since the moment Laura slipped the ring on her finger, pulling it off the cupcake as Carmilla stared up at her. Heart in her throat for some reason.

Likely because she’d never expected to be the kind of girl who went down on one knee. Not since her. She’d always assumed that her mother would simply tell her who to marry and it would be more a matter of paperwork than romantic proposals.

Carmilla glanced at the notebook, briefly envisioning the page two turns back on the spiral. The one covered in words and arrows and scribbles as she’d tried to find exactly the right words to say to Laura. Words that meant something. Because it was Laura. She couldn’t half-ass a proposal. The words hadn’t come until she’d spent the afternoon pouring over jewellery stores. When she’d found the ring, the words had come easily. Swirling from the diamond tucked in her palm as she wrote.

Even if it was fake, Laura deserved only the best from her. That meant truth in her proposal.

The proposal that was entirely platonic and about being best friends. Carmilla nodded to herself even as she ran her fingers over her own bare left ring finger. Laura had been right to go for the hug after her proposal. The smile that had lite Laura’s entire face on fire was fake. Fake fake fake.

Just best friends. She’d come up with the matra years ago and it still applied.

The bribery comment didn’t sting.

Carmilla poked her hand out from the cocoon of the blanket and grabbed her notepad. This was all about the campaign. That’s what friends did for each other. Fake marriage was totally in the realm of normal. It was about the campaign so it had to be the best campaign she could make.

For Laura.

But the words wouldn’t come. Carmilla’s pen hovered over the paper for nearly 40 minutes and when she looked down, startled slightly by a loud noise outside her apartment, the only thing she’d written was “Laura Karnstein”, “Carmilla Hollis” and “Hollis-Karnstein”

Multiple times.

Carmilla tore out the page and crumpled it into a ball.

Besides, they’d both obvious keep their maiden names. Too much brand recognition as a politician and a journalist to go changing them.

Carmilla thwacked her head against the wall. Not that they were actually getting married.

“CARMILLA KARNSTEIN!” the words tore through her supposably empty apartment but, rather than fear, something in her traitorous chest jumped.

“Laura?” she said softly. She’d finally gone insane, Laura was in Toronto on the other side of the province.

Or barrelling through her door, face red.

“CARMILLA,” Laura shouted, “YOUR MOTHER. I SWEAR.”

Carmilla blinked, “You’re here?”

“Yes I’m here,” Laura started pacing the bedroom, “Apparently. Not that I wanted to be here though. But here I am.” She paused and looked at Carmilla, “I mean, not that I don’t want to be here. With you. Nothing to do with you. I just. Your mother. I did not get out from my father’s thumb to fall under your mother's. She could have just talked to me first. Seriously. The rest of the details she said. This is more than details. You don’t get to just go in and take over someone’s whole life.” She frowned, “ you didn’t know about this did you? Because i’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here that you would of at least had the decency to ask first.”

Carmilla stood, letting the blanket drop from her shoulders and grabbed Laura mid-pace, holding her still by her arms, “Cupcake. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Something in her chest was too busy doing cartwheels at Laura’s presence to even think about understanding the flow of words.

Laura took a deep breath, one of her hands coming up to clasp Carmilla’s wrist, “Your mother. At least, I’m assuming it was your mother because from what I could drag out of Betty it sounds like your mother, well, quit my job for me.”

That snapped Carmilla back, “She quit your job?”

“Temporary leave.” Laura amended, “Apparently. All I know is that I went into the office this morning and Betty told me that I’d got a two month hiatus.” She narrowed her eyes, “which is conveniently the time until your election.”

Carmilla could feel the migraine coming on, pain twisting the back of her head as she ran over her options. There weren’t many. It didn’t take long to reach a conclusion. Her hands folded in front of her and her shoulders slumped but keeping her eyes on Laura let her force out the words, “I’ll speak with Mother. Tell Betty you don’t want the leave.”

“I tried,” Laura said, “but she wouldn’t hear it. Said it came from above her pay grade and that I absolutely had to take it because someone in HR had noticed that I hadn’t really taken, well, any of the my vacation and apparently that’s against company policy or something.”

Carmilla relaxed slightly. No need to call Mother. “Told you your work ethic would come back and bite you.” she drawled.

Laura rolled her eyes and swatted at her, turning back to pace the room, “Yeah. yeah. Maybe I do need a vacation but that doesn’t mean your mother can just steamroll over my life. I mean, work was one thing but then, I get back and find out that I’ve apparently subletted my apartment!” Her pacing gained steam again, “I definitely didn’t do that. But this family was already rolling in and they were just so excited because apparently they’d been staying in a shelter after their house burned down. And wasn’t I so nice to let them use my apartment while I was away and did I know who the mysterious benefactor was who was paying their rent.” Laura whirled, “they had a couple of kids Carm, like small kids. This little boy whose eyes were glowing because he got to sleep on a couch. A couch. I mean, I couldn’t kick them out.”

Carmilla shook her head and held in the smile, “Of course not cupcake. Who wouldn’t just let strangers barge into their home?” She had to give it to her mother. Moving in exactly the kind of family that Laura couldn’t say no to.

“Right!” Laura either missed or ignored her sarcasm, “I’m not going to be the bad guy. Next thing I know they’re putting stuff in drawers, I’ve realized that all of my personal stuff is already gone. Then some guy with a limo taps me on the shoulder and gives me a plane ticket to Ottawa and said that my stuff was already taken care of and “We need to go Miss Hollis or we’ll miss our flight.””

“And now you’re here.” Carmilla said.

“Apparently!” Laura threw her arms up, “I don’t suppose my stuff is here?”

“Only if it’s turned invisible,” Carmilla said, falling back on the bed.

Laura huffed and continued to pace the room. Carmilla watched her go, sweeping back and forth from one side of the bedroom to the other. Part of her was hoping Laura would snap out of it of her own accord but history said otherwise. She’d been genuinely surprised that Laura hadn’t worn a rut in the floor of their dorm room back in school. Laura claimed it helped her think. Carmilla thought it just kept her frantic.

Her head slowly moved back and forth, tracking Laura across the room. Eventually, she said, “What do you want me to do, cupcake?”

Laura’s pace slowed marginally as she considered. Her nose scrunching into an adorable crinkle, “I don’t know? Get me my life back maybe?”

Carmilla snorted. She didn’t even know how to get her hands on her own life, nevermind Laura’s.

“I just,” Laura continued, “I just hate that she can come in and change everything. Make me stop work. Make me be here like taking over my life was just so easy. As though I don’t have any control. Maybe I don’t want to be here? Did she even consider that?” Laura threw her hands up, “It’s Ottawa, I mean what am I supposed to do up here when almost my whole life is in Toronto and she took away my job which was basically everything to force me to move up here for two months. Seriously. Why would I even want to be up here?”

Carmilla felt her jaw lock. Standing stiffly, she grabbed her phone to avoid looking at Laura, “Fine. I’ll book you a flight back to Toronto and personally pay for you to stay at a hotel until your apartment clears back out.” The flurry of movement in the corner of her eye stopped. Her tone had more bite than she’d intended to let out, “Let you get back to your whole life instead of the nothing that’s here.”

“Carm. Carm, no,” Laura was immediately in her space, small hands locking over the cell phone and preventing Carmilla from booking a flight. The stupid ring glinting in Carmilla’s vision, “Carm, that’s not what I meant. I’m just frustrated. You know, how I get about domineering people.” Laura’s left hand gripped hers tightly, the right hand coming up to gently move her jaw so that Carmilla was forced to look her in the eyes. Those big brown eyes. They were soft and slightly panicked as Laura continued, “Of course, there’s not nothing here. You’re here and you’re everything. I’d have dropped the job in a second if you needed me too. I’m just mad that she didn’t even ask but of course I’m happy to see you. That’s why I said almost. Cause you’re not there. Could never be a whole life without you.”

Carmilla swallowed sharply as Laura tugged her forward, pulling her into a hug and hiding her face in Carmilla’s neck.

“I missed you.” Laura breathed the words into her skin.

Slowly, Carmilla wrapped her arms around Laura’s back. She flicked the phone off, feeling her heartbeat slow, her breath matching Laura’s.

After a pause, Laura continued, “Is that dumb? Cause I know we just saw each other but it had been so long and I think maybe that I forgot how much I missed you until I saw you again and-”

“It’s not dumb,” Carmilla said, “and I suppose I might have missed you too.”

“Why Carmilla Karnstein,” Laura giggled into her neck, “don’t be getting all sentimental on me now. Coming from you that’s practically a declaration of love.”

Carmilla forced a roll to her eyes and stepped back, “Never mind. Definitely didn’t miss you. Feel free to leave now.”

“Naw,” Laura grinned and threw herself onto Carmilla’s bed, “I’m homeless and jobless. You’ve got to take me in.”

“Do I?” Carmilla asked.

“Yupp. Best friend rules,” Laura absently tied Carmilla’s blanket like a cape around her shoulders, “Right above mandatory ice cream runs after a break-up and just beneath agree to marry for the political benefits.”

Carmilla let a tiny smile out, “I’m going to need to see the rule book, cutie.”

Laura shrugged, “Can’t find my stuff remember? You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Must I?”

“Don’t you?” Laura said.

Carmilla looked over from where she’d absently picked up the notebook again. Laura was sitting on her bed, cross legged, hair askew from wrestling with the blankets, and the tails of her new cape tickling her chin. Carmilla crossed the room in a single stride, hand automatically coming out to smooth Laura’s flyaways. Briefly, she thought Laura almost leaned into her hand.

“Always.” she said at last.

For a moment the air was still and something like pink tinged at Laura’s cheeks, then Laura clapped her hands, breaking the silence, “Great. So I’m moving in. We’re getting somewhere with this plan!”

Carmilla frowned, “Wait…”

“And I’ll just do some freelance stuff, I guess,” Laura bowled right over her words, “that could be fun. I mean, it’s been so long since I tried to sell individual pieces instead of reporting on what the paper tells me. I could do anything. Investigate anyone. Heck, I could write fiction if I really wanted to. I don’t think I want to but I could!” She bounced to her knees, “It’s no Toronto but Ottawa’s gotta have a dark underbelly all it’s own. I could flip that side right up for everyone to see.”

That certainly didn’t sound like something her mother would approve of.

“Laura…” Carmilla started.

Laura still wasn’t stopping, “Obviously first we have to find my stuff though,” Laura said, “because I need my things. Like my yellow pillow. And my mug. My mug! They better have wrapped that well because if it’s broken someone owes me a new mug and it's really hard to find a good square mug with some weight to it. Also, like clothes and stuff. Can’t be walking around naked.” She glared at Carmilla around her smile, “and no flirty comments from you on that Miss Karnstein. I am your fiancee and I will not be reduce to a piece of meat.”

“If you can’t make lewd comments about getting your fiancee naked then who can you really make flirty comments to?” the words rolled off Carmilla’s tongue before she could stop them.

Laura pointed a finger at her, “We’ve made it nearly a decade with hardly any nudity in this friendship. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Really?” Carmilla smirked, “What about that time when you walked -”

“NOPE!” Laura shouted, “We’re not talking about that. Scarring enough as it is! No naked in our past. None.”

There was a brief stutter in the conversation as Laura’s words suddenly hit Carmilla with a different image. The other incident. The one they didn’t talk about. Not even jokingly.

“Alright, cupcake,” Carmilla said, significantly more smoothly than she felt with that image running through her head and something forbidden flaring beneath her belly button. She forced a wink, “but it’s really not that bad. I’m sure every roommate has walked in on-”

“YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT IT!” Laura shouted and covered her ears, face flaming.

There was a light knock at the door, “Carmilla’s talking about what?”

Both girls looked over to see Perry standing just outside the door, “Kirsch let me in.” Perry explained, she crossed the room to give Laura a hug, “Laura, sweetheart, good to see you again.”

“You too, Perry!” Laura said. Carmilla couldn’t decide if her enthusiasm was due to Perry’s presence or the subject change. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“Mrs Karnstein told me you’d be here,” Perry said simply. Then she peered behind her and gestured for Carmilla to shut the bedroom door. “Wilson is unaware of the truth of your engagement and Carmilla’s mother would prefer to keep it that way.”

Carmilla nodded. Beefcake couldn’t keep a secret. “Who does know?”

“Just myself and your mother,” Perry said smoothly, “Your mother has no intention of telling William although she mentioned that, if necessary for PR, Matska may be informed. However, presently your family, Laura’s father, your campaign team, and the world will be under the impression that the engagement is real.”

Laura was twisting the engagement ring on her finger, “You can’t tell Laf?”

Perry’s lips tightened slightly, “No.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura said.

The smile was tight, “You should know, they’re very excited that you’ve gotten engaged so be prepared the next time you see them.”

“Do you know where Laura’s stuff is?” Carmilla asked.

“Should be here tomorrow,” Perry looked over her clipboard, “but I’ve got outfits for both of you for this afternoon anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“This afternoon?” Laura sat up straighter.

“Press conference,” Carmilla went over to sit beside her, thighs touching. When she looked up, Perry was eyeing her strangely. Carmilla gave the look right back, “Although no-one has decided to tell me what it’s for yet.”

Perry blinked, “Your mother didn’t-?” She shuffled through her papers, “then we’ll have to get moving on the speech. It won’t be much. Your mother is saying most of the information. I’ve got cards for both of you.”

“Both of us?” Laura cut in.

“Your engagement.” Perry said simply, “you have to formally announce your engagement to Carmilla’s support base in an hour.”

#

Her mother was still talking. Carmilla fidgeted slightly, twisting the bottom of her blazer between her fingers. It was the same old spiel with the same painted smile plastered across her mother’s face. How Carmilla was going to take the world by storm. Alternative vote. Fresh ideas.

And of course, copious reminders that she was Carmilla Karnstein. Karnstein. That’s right. The family Karnstein. Related to former Prime Minister Karnstein.

Carmilla scrunched the blazer further as she watched her mother on the stage. She was pretty much convinced her mother had married her father simply for access to the family name. Lolita Morgan had been nothing but a low level politician. However with the name Karnstein attached, even if she couldn’t make her political dreams come true, she could certainly steer her children in the right direction.

Her direction.

Small warm fingers wrapped around her own, bringing her back and saving her clothes. Laura’s smile forcing one on to her own face. “Ready to roll?” Laura asked, lightly squeezing her hand. The engagement ring providing a cool touch against her skin.

“I don’t think it’s possible to be ready for these,” Carmilla said. Then she winked, “bloodthirsty reporters and all.”

Laura waved off that jab, “Ah but that’s why this time is different,” her eyes practically sparkled as she spoke, “cause now you’ve got me and as someone who's been one of those bloodthirsty folks, I can give them as good as it gets.”

Reluctantly, Carmilla let go of Laura’s hand as Perry waved frantically at her to get on stage, “I’m going to hold you to that, cupcake,” she called over her shoulder.

Any response Laura may have given was immediately drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Carmilla stepped out onto the small press platform. She blinked slightly in the sunlight, adjusting to the noise and forcing a smile onto her face. Perry caught her eye, waving at her. Stifling the sigh, Carmilla gave the crowd a wave.

The cheer increased.

She made her way across the stage. This part, she hated. If she could just do the job then she’d be fine but this posturing and smiling was exhausting. And pointless. The idea that a bubbly smile meant competency in government was ridiculous.

And yet.

Carmilla kept smiling. Even when her mother leaned forward to give her a brusque hug, she smiled. It was that or remind herself that on a stage was literally the only time her mother had ever hugged her.

She turned to face the microphone, Perry’s cue cards already lined up on the podium for her.

“I want to thank you all for coming out today,” Carmilla started, “especially on such short notice. It’s always a privilege to be able to speak with you directly and keep the dialogue between my team and everyone I’m looking to represent open. After all, transparency and working for the people is the most crucial part of not only a campaign, but of an effective method of leadership. It’s my belief that we’ve successfully built that communication into our relationship through a foundation of trust. My trust in you that you can come to me with your issues, your trust in me that I will do everything in my power to meet them.”

Carmilla paused slightly, looking down at the cards that were written in Perry’s curly script but reeked of her mother’s rhetoric.

She could just make out the backstage in the corner of her eye. Her team buzzing around. Her mother, arms crossed and watching. Perry mouthing the words alongside her.

And Laura. Laura who was watching her speak with a slightly bemused look on her face and that adorable nose crinkle.

Carmilla put the cards down. This was supposed to be an engagement announcement. Hers and Laura’s. Not her Mother’s and Perry’s.

“I’m sure none of you are surprised as to why you’re here today,” Carmilla said, leaning slightly forward on the podium, “It comes down to trust and truth, two things that I value above all else. So I suppose I’m here to clear the air between us and clarify any questions that you may have based on the existence of an article that appeared in the Toronto Daily.” The smirk that shot across her face felt more natural than the painted smile, “I would have told you first but a girl’s got to keep her lady happy.”

Noise exploded from the crowd.

She gave it a moment, then silenced them with a simple lift of her hand, “So, to answer the question I’m sure you’re asking, yes. I am engaged to Laura Hollis.”

This time, Carmilla didn’t even try to stop the flurry from the crowd, instead she turned to the side of the stage and held out her hand. Laura didn’t keep her waiting. She stepped out onto the stage with a shake of her head and smile that made Carmilla question how anyone could believe that her own smile was real.

If Laura’s smile was the deciding factor, she could maybe see how a campaign could be won with a smile.

Their hands linked together easily. Laura sliding in beside her behind the podium.

“Just couldn’t use the cards, eh?” She whispered in Carmilla’s ear.

“Not really my style,” Carmilla said.

“No really?” Laura said, giving her a small hip check “You only sounded a little bit like a robotic version of your mother.”

“Not possible,” Carmilla said, “I’m pretty sure Mother is actually a robot.”

“Miss Karnstein!” the crowd had finally quieted enough that individual voices could be heard over the ruckus. Carmilla turned, acknowledging the large man from the local news station. “Why wasn’t your relationship with Miss Hollis public before this point?”

She was ready for this one, “We wanted to focus on the campaign issues,” Carmilla said, “and we were worried that adding in a personal relationship and a wedding would detract from the core issues that I’m looking to discuss. However,” she said, heading off what was sure to be the next question, “that didn’t exactly go as planned with additional attention being given to my apparent status as a single individual calling my competency into question. It’s our hope that by announcing our engagement now, rather than after the election, we can return the discussions to the relevant issues and not my dating life.”

“How long have the two of you been dating?” the question was shouted from an entertainment reporter. Her mother would be thrilled. Rarely did politics end up on the same page as celebrities.

“Can I?” Laura briefly looked over at her. Carmilla gave her a nod and a smile. “We met in University,” Laura said, “we both went to Silas and we assigned roommates in first year. And if you want the truth,” Laura shot the reporter a smile and gave Carmilla an obvious elbow to the side, “we did not get along at all. This one was totally a shower hog and I couldn’t get her to do the dishes to save my life. To be fair, I was probably overly inquisitive and eating far too many cookies.”

The crowd actually chuckled. Bless Laura Hollis.

“But we got used to each other and once I got a glimpse of the real Carmilla, well,” Laura shrugged and gave a light blush, “I was hooked.” For a moment Laura’s eyes caught Carmilla’s. The blush intensifying before Laura looked back at the crowd.

Laura gave an awkward laugh and continued, “Then it was a matter of trying to get Carm to date me, which is a whole other story, but to cut to the chase? I’ve known that I wanted to marry Carmilla since University. Dating for the last couple of years has just been a formality.” Carmilla ignore the flip in her stomach at Laura’s words, choosing instead to focus on trying to figure out exactly when Laura had learned to fake a blush. Laura continued, “after all, who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend?”

The applause were thunderous.

When they finally quieted down, the next few questions were fairly typical. Additional details on Carmilla’s campaign - speak to her office for the literature. When was the wedding going to be - shortly after the campaign wrapped, why delay. Was Laura moving to Ottawa permanently - they were looking at determining what made the most sense for her career. Nothing too out of left field.

She’d wager her mother had hand-picked the crowd.

“Miss Karnstein!” Until a familiar voice sent Carmilla’s skin crawling with goosebumps. She steeled herself, locking one hand onto the podium and firming up her grip on Laura’s hand. Carmilla turned, eyes locked on the platinum blonde staring at her, hand raised, “Elle, yes?”

Her ex wasn’t supposed to be at these events. Her security team had specific instructions to keep the gossip reporter out and had done so. Until now. It all had to fall apart eventually.

“How do you respond to accusations that you and Miss Hollis are faking an engagement for the political benefits of such a relationship?” Ella cut straight to the point.

Carmilla’s pasted smile was back, “I’d say they’re false.”

“Despite the fact that there is no previous evidence to indicate a relationship between the two of you and, upon the announcement of your engagement in the Toronto Daily, your poll numbers jumped significantly?” Elle said.

“Just because Laura and I choose to keep our relationship private in no way invalidates the feelings behind it-” Carmilla started.

“Or what about,” Elle kept talking over her, commanding silence from the crowd either for her audacity or because they truly wanted an answer, “the fact that your relationship with Miss Hollis garners you positive connections with the press? Or that even her father, whom I happen to know Miss Hollis has a strong relationship with, had no idea of the relationship? Doesn’t that call into question the truth of the emotions behind such a relationship?”

Carmilla was only aware that she was squeezing Laura’s hand tightly when Laura’s thumb softly brushed over her skin. She glanced over. Laura’s face was dark as she stared at Elle.

“Do you really expect us to believe, Mircalla,” Elle said coolly, using the old name to remind everyone that she’d once very publically been the girlfriend, “that after years of telling everyone that you were ‘just friends’ that there is any real romantic relationship between the two of you? Because as far as I can tell, besides that ring, there’s nothing different in your relationship than there was when you were dating, oh, say me.”

Elle let that one hang in the air for a moment.

Carmilla’s brain raced, looking for words to show that something between Laura and herself had changed. She couldn’t find anything.

Elle jumped right back on it, “Do you truly expect the Canadian people to believe your charade that either yourself or Mis Hollis are actually in love? That there any true feelings inside a Karnstein of all people?” Elle’s harsh laugh cut through the silence of the crowd, “Of all those girls, I dated you the longest. So I think I’m qualified to say that no-one could love you.”

Carmilla felt small. Shoulders collapsing. Tongue frozen in her mouth as the words bounced in her head. Her chin dropped slightly as she forced herself to fight the impulse to curl into a small ball.

But something met her in the middle. As her head dipped down, something warm slipped up and lightly grasped at the nape of her neck. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon blasting upward towards her, filling her senses. Her eyes flicked open to catch the briefest hint of chocolate eyes.

And then she was drowning in the best way. Laura’s lips first lightly brushing against her own, pulling back slightly, and then pressing harder. It was so easy for Carmilla to respond. Easier than breathing as her lips pressed back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Laura’s hand on her neck was scratching at her hair even as Carmilla was surrounded with nothing more than the smell of vanilla and the feel of Laura. Laura everywhere. Hand in her hair, chests pressed together. Lips moving slowly against each other. Brushing everything else away with every push of their lips until the only emotion Carmilla could feel in her chest was something that felt remarkably like safety and home.

Why wasn’t she always kissing Laura?

Her shoulders straightened as she brought her hands up to clasp at Laura’s shoulders. The slightest graze of her tongue on Laura’s lip, nothing in her head but the girl who somehow always right there and yet never close enough.

Something hit her in the back with a light thud and a mortified whisper of “Carmilla. You’re on stage” from Perry brought her back to reality.

Carmilla pulled back just enough to detach their lips, resting her forehead against Laura’s and just staring at her. Laura’s face was flushed, lips slightly swollen, and that ever-present spark winking in her eyes.

Her best friend had never looked more beautiful.

Carmilla’s gaze dropped back to Laura’s lips. Forcing herself to repeat the familiar mantra. Just a best friend. Just a best friend.

Then Laura turned slightly, leaning back against Carmilla and facing the crowd, “Hey, Elle?” she said with the most Carmilla-like smirk Carmilla had ever seen, “Jealousy doesn’t become you.”

And just like that, after 8 years, Carmilla couldn’t convince herself that just best friends was enough.

Chapter Text

Something was horribly wrong. Laura slid into the backseat of the SUV beside Carmilla, finally getting a chance to rest her legs after the hours of standing from the press conference, interviews, and general campaigning. But she hardly even noticed the relief to her aching legs.

Because something was wrong with Carmilla.

Laura gnawed at her lip, eyeing Carmilla as the car rolled forward. She was so quiet. So so quiet. That wasn’t surprising in and of itself, Laura was the talkative one in the friendship. Where Laura spoke in quantity, Carmilla was more the quality type.

But this was the wrong kind of quiet. This was the stillness kind of quiet.

Carmilla was always moving. Subtly. Slowly.

Flipping the pages of a book. Small bounce in her foot. Eyes taking everything in. Small motions that Laura relied on like the constant pulse of a heartbeat. Un-noticed while they’re happening, deafening when they’re silent.

She forced herself to give Carmilla the car ride to snap out of it. Watching Carmilla just stare out the window at the traffic, Laura tried to mentally prompt her friend to do anything. Say anything.

But there were no snarky comments. No soft sighs hidden between her breaths. Just stillness.

So Laura was silent. Waiting. Gnawing on her lip and bouncing her knee up and down but keeping her mouth firmly closed. Teeth grinding together to hold back the words. Just watching. Waiting. For Carmilla to notice that she wasn’t speaking. To turn with some sarcastic drawl in her voice and concern in her eyes and ask Laura ‘why she’d suddenly decided to silence the motormouth’ or snark something like ‘I know I’m a good kisser cupcake but I never expected that to be the thing to finally shock you into silence. If I’d known, I would have tried that years ago’.

Laura ignored the little voice in her head reminding her that it wasn’t technically the first time.

Carmilla certainly didn’t remember. So Laura wouldn’t either. By sheer force of her will.

So Laura sat silently. But Carmilla never noticed.

Which was something of a problem because without Carmilla to distract her all Laura could think about was that kiss. that kiss. that kiss. Had Carmilla’s lips always been that soft? Did she pump freaking electricity through them for maximum sparking purposes? Was it normal to like kissing your best friend quite that much?

Of course it was. Laura nodded to herself. She’d gone over this before. Totally normal.

When the arrived at Carmilla’s apartment, Carmilla got out of the car without a word and left Laura behind. For just a moment. Then Carmilla was back, still silent, but her hand held out for Laura’s.

She took it. Clinging to the warmth provided as the silence continued through the lobby into the elevator and up to the apartment. Only finally, once the door had closed behind them, did Laura speak.

And then it was everything all at once.

“Carm, I am so sorry. I totally shouldn’t have kissed you, should I? Cause you’ve been all quiet and you only get quiet when you’re thinking too much or confused and it’s totally cause I kissed you without your permission and I’m sorry and like, I shouldn’t have just jumped you like that.” Laura said, “But Elle was saying all that stuff and she was so wrong and i was trying really hard not to yell at her. I’m pretty sure I bit right through my tongue.” Hers hands flailed through the air as she spoke.

Laura frowned as a thought hit her, “Definitely some blood. Could you taste that? Sorry. That had to be really gross. Like I’m not a great kisser anyway according to third party sources but that probably made it way worse. I hadn’t really planned on kissing you but then she wouldn’t stop talking and you looked sad and I wanted to make her be quiet and she was always really jealous and I never really thought she liked me anyway. So I just kissed you. And I’m sorry. And please don’t be mad.” The words tumbled all over themselves, “I won’t do it again.”

Finally. Finally, Carmilla’s head came up. She stared at Laura a moment, expression uncomfortably indiscernible. Then said, “Who said you weren’t a good kisser?”

Laura froze, hands still flapping in the silence, “What? I… Well… Just everyone? Like, it wasn’t exactly sparky. Usually. Except. Well. But that’s not the point. The point is that you’re upset and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset.” Carmilla said. Then her eyes almost widened in surprise, as though she hadn’t expected those words to come out.

Laura swallowed, “Oh.”

The two women stared at each other. Time somehow stretching and compressing all at the same time so that all Laura could see was Carmilla and yet somehow she couldn’t see anything about Carmilla. Couldn’t read her friend like she’d always been able. Her brain refusing to kick into gear as Laura just stared at those brown eyes and high cheekbones and red lips.

It was the yawn that cut through her silence, cracking her jaw open as the exhaustion worked it’s way through her.

Carmilla smirked but it was softer than normal. She took a step back and gestured for Laura to step down the hall behind her. Moments later, they were standing in Carmilla’s bedroom and Laura had some of Carmilla’s clothes dropped in her arms. Actually, the pants had once been her own clothes. A pair of university sweatpants that Carmilla had stolen back in their second year, so well worn that the Silas U logo could hardly be made out.

The shirt was Carmilla’s, a relic from Carmilla’s brief foray into starting a band. Mechanically, Laura put the pajama shirt on. Tugging on hem when she found it slightly bigger than expected, slipping off one shoulder to leave it bare.

She’d forgotten how baggy Carmilla used to wear things.

Shoving Carmilla’s clothes to one side of the dresser, Laura folded her clothes and dropped them in. Before she could quite finish the action, Carmilla was back. The same clothes she’d always worn to bed, a tiny tank top and a pair of men’s boxer shorts, but somehow, inexplicitly, Laura found her eyes lingering.

When she finally snapped her gaze up to Carmilla’s eyes, Laura almost thought that they’d been fixed on her bare shoulder in something close to a caress. But then it was gone and a reporter never reaches conclusions without the facts to back them up.

There were no facts here.

“So,” Carmilla broke the silence at last, “I’ll take the couch.”

That definitely broke it, Laura’s brain finally kicking back into high gear, “What? The couch?”

“I am a gentlewoman,” Carmilla sniffed, “I’m certainly not letting you use the couch.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “No-one is using the couch when you’ve got a great big bed right there in the corner. I mean look at it. Why do you even need a bed that big? No. Wait.” she winced, “don’t answer that. If we sat on opposite ends of that thing we’d still be farther away from each than when we crammed two single beds into that tiny dorm room.” Jumping forward, Laura leapt onto the bed with a small bounce. Grinning at the sheer degree of spring she was getting.

Note to Hollis: jump on bed at later date when Carmilla is not around for mocking purposes.

She burrowed under the blankets, intentionally cocooning herself so that her nose barely peeked out past the covers. When she looked back around the room, Carmilla was still lurking over by the doorway.

“Carm,” she said, “Come on.”

Carmilla still hesitated. Laura wasn’t entirely sure what was causing the incredibly vulnerable look to paint its way across Carmilla’s face but she wanted to squash it. Whatever it was.

“You’ll still be a gentle-womanly if we sleep in the same bed,” Laura said, letting the blankets fall away slightly as she sat back up, “seriously. I think we can trust ourselves not to jump each other in our sleep. Like, I know the kiss thing happened but I promised that there will be a distinct lack of kissing going on when my rage isn’t being incited by blonde ex-girlfriends” Laura grinned despite how angry even thinking about Elle made her, “It’s like a hulk thing and I promise not to hulk out.”

Carmilla still didn’t look convinced, “Plus,” Laura added, “what if Will or Laf or Mattie or anyone decides to come over first thing in the morning and catches one of us sleeping on the couch? Then they’re going to think it’s fake or that we’re fighting and that’s going to create a whole other set of problems.”

Laura frowned, Carmilla still wasn’t moving. She went in for the final punch, “Oh, come on Carm. My stuff still isn’t here yet and that means that Sir Bearington The Third isn’t here yet and if you leave me alone in this room without him to protect me then I’m going to have nightmares.”

That did it. Laura snuggled back down into the blankets with a smug smile as Carmilla picked her way through the room to climb into the other side of the bed.

They flipped over to face each other, “So I’m just a replacement for Sir Bearington The Third, eh?” Carmilla’s smirk only grew as she said the teddy bear’s name.

Laura was used to the teasing on that particular front by now. She’d managed to keep the teddy hidden for an entire semester before Carmilla had spotted him. Shit-eating grin didn’t even begin to describe the look Carmilla had on her face when she’d first found the bear while stealing Laura’s pillow. Again.

“You’re not quite as good,” Laura said, booping Carmilla on the nose with a single finger. Carmilla faked a snarl and swatted at the offending hand. “significantly less snuggly. But I think you might make a suitable replacement as a knight of the Hollis roundtable fighting against the evil nightmare monsters and creepy clown dolls.”

“No creepy clown dolls in here,” Carmilla promised, “nightmare free zone.”

Laura smiled, took her hand, and believed it.

#

Laura blinked her eyes awake, the impulse to not move already firmly in place as soon as she registered the warmth pressed up against her. She fought the urge to snuggle in closer and just go back to sleep.

That made the third morning she’s woken up with her arms around Carmilla. Or Carmilla’s arms around her. It was hard to make out. Just a general entanglement of limbs.

Every night they started on different sides of the bed and by every morning they’d migrated to the middle. And as Carmilla was blessed with the ability sleep until noon unless someone forcibly woke her, it was always left to Laura to silently creep from the embrace.

She wasn’t even sure Carmilla knew that this was how they spent their nights.

Laura wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Carmilla to know.

Probably because she’d just started getting Carmilla back after the silence of the kiss incident and she didn’t want to risk that again. Definitely nothing to do with the fact that Carmilla might start sleeping on the couch if she knew. The thought of Carmilla that silent and still flashed through Laura’s mind again. Of Carmilla gone. Far away in another room. A shiver rippled over her skin and Laura pulled Carmilla closer to her chest until her friend’s warmth was entirely pressed against her side.

She was here. Breathing slowly as Carmilla mumbled slightly in her sleep, drifting even closer and burying her nose in Laura’s neck before stilling again.

Definitely not thinking about the tiny box her father had given her after the announcement that she hadn’t been able to look at since.

So Laura let herself indulge in the feeling. Just for a moment more. A minute more. Slowly stroking her hand over Carmilla’s hair, lazily curling up underneath Carmilla’s warmth, letting the familiar scent calm her nerves before she started the day.

Just a minute more.

An hour later Laura finally pulled herself out of the bed and flipped into comfy laze-about-the-house clothing. She padded softly through the apartment, blanket around her shoulders like a cape. Coffee. Chocolate croissant. Newspaper. She didn’t even have to look, Carmilla’s apartment as familiar as her own.

She stole Carmilla’s laptop, punching in the password, and scanning all her favourite websites. Then Laura stretched, grabbed her new camera, and got down to business.

She started with a smile, “Good morning gentle viewers! Laura Hollis here, reporting from the slightly chilly city of Ottawa.” She paused for dramatic effect, “But Laura you say, aren’t you a writer? What are you doing with a camera? Wasn’t there some business about a paid-leave from work and a fiancee? Well,” Laura said, “yes. So I figure that this is a perfect time to try something new. So BOOM folks, we’re going digital. Not a political campaign tool. Just me, my camera, and the cold hard truth.”

She leaned in, “Alright guys, so I was poking around the children’s aid center yesterday and you will never believe what I found...”

#

Carmilla woke up to the smell of Laura. It was becoming inevitable, vanilla and cinnamon and just Laura-smell weaving its way into all the nooks and crannies of her apartment until Carmilla couldn’t go anywhere without thinking about her.

But it was strongest here.

Between the sheets. In their bed.

In her bed.

She stretched her legs out and squeezed her arms in, unsurprised as the scent only increased. Carmilla cracked an eye open to see Laura’s pillow safely clasped in her arms. Again. Like every morning so far.

Carmilla yawned and snuggled into the pillow, burrowing her nose into the scent. The actual source of the scent would have been better but as that was never going to happen, well, the pillow would do.

Eventually Carmilla cracked her eyes open to see Sir Bearington the Third staring down at her.

She glared at him, trying to intimidate the tiny plastic eyes, “Stop judging,” she mumbled, “you get to hug her all the time.”

The teddy bear just kept staring. Like it knew something she didn’t. Full of Laura’s secrets instead of simple fluff as Laura spent decades whispering into his ear.

Eventually Carmilla got up. She paused at the wardrobe, bypassing the blazers and dress pants for an old pair of ripped jeans and a simple black t-shirt. She’d almost made it out of the room before Carmilla paused, backtracked, and haphazardly threw the bed back together.

She set Sir Bearington the Third on Laura’s pillow. He was still staring at her. “She likes the bed made,” Carmilla muttered to him, “now stop staring.”

Carmilla didn’t flee the room, she strategically retreated.

What she found was a Laura Hollis cross legged on her couch, eyes sparking, and waving her hands in dramatic gestures as she spoke to a video camera. Carmilla had no idea why Laura had suddenly decided to go into video journalism but frankly, she didn’t care. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the hallway, smiling as she watched Laura bounce off on some tangent.

Her hands were windmilling with a velocity that had Carmilla worried for the coffee mug perched nearby, there was a cape blanket around her neck, and Laura’s blonde hair was riddled with flyaways.

No-one should literally be that adorable.

Carmilla had never had a chance.

She took a few steps forward into the living room. Leaning slightly over the back of the couch, she reached out and smoothed the worst of Laura’s fly-aways. Without stopping from her spiel, Laura smiled up at her, briefly taking and then squeezing her hand.

“Morning,” Carmilla said when Laura stopped to breath. Her voice coming out raspier than intended in the early morning.

For a moment, she almost thought Laura turned pink. Then she was distracted by Laura’s words, “I made you breakfast and coffee’s in the kitchen.” Then Laura jumped right back into her camera spiel.

Carmilla hummed contentedly, spotting the tardis mug on the counter.

She could get used to this. She shouldn’t, because it was going to go away, but for now she’d just enjoy it. With a debate tonight, she’d take what goodness she could get.

#

“Now Mircalla,” Carmilla’s mother said, “Let’s make sure that we stick to all of our key campaign points, you certainly can’t be making errors like our practice this afternoon. That would be disastrous for our campaign.”

Laura really didn’t like the way Carmilla’s shoulders had been drooping since Mrs Karnstein had burst into their apartment and whisked them away for debate prep at lunch. During lunch. When Carmilla had been laughing and making her grilled cheese and swatting at her with a spatula while Laura tried to sneak a few hunks of havarti from the plate to her mouth.

The grilled cheese sandwich hadn’t even tasted anywhere near as good when she had to eat it in the car with Mrs Karnstein in the seat between them.

All cold and prickly where Carmilla was soft and warm.

“Yes mother,” Carmilla said.

Mrs Karnstein nodded, “Excellent. Now, let’s review the cards again. You missed some key facts that I’d expected to be fully memorized by now so we’re going to have to compensate with some additional cramming.” She waved vaguely at Perry who handed an enormous stack of cue cards to Carmilla as Kirsch hovered in the background. “These are all the points that I found to be lacking in your earlier presentation. I expect them all fully absorbed before tonight’s debate.”

“That’s insane,” the words fell out before Laura could stop them.

Heads turned, looking at Laura from where she was tucked in a chair in the corner of the room.

Mrs Karnstein gave her a tight smile, “Thank you for your feedback Miss Hollis. While I agree that Mircalla’s performance of late has been sub-standard, I’m certain that my glittering girl can find it within her to handle this small task and once again be the shining example that I recall her to be.”

Laura bristled, “I never called Carmilla sub-standard. She’d been doing great. There’s no ‘once again’. She’s amazing right now.”

“Yes, well,” Mrs Karnstein turned away from her, “I don’t expect you to be familiar with the intricacies of what actual excellence in politics looks like.”

Laura’s eyes drifted to Carmilla, eyebrows raised. Carmilla hadn’t even look at her, eyes focused on the cards. Shoulders hunched. But, as Laura’s gaze fell on her, Carmilla did raise her eyes slightly and give a small shake of her head. Then she dropped right back to looking at the cards. Mouth moving as she tried to absorb the stack of statistics.

“Don’t mumble,” Mrs Karnstein said, “It will make others think you are small and insignificant.”

Carmilla’s mouth slammed shut.

Moments later, Carmilla’s mother spoke again, “Mircalla.” She paused, waiting until Carmilla looked up to meet her eyes, “there’s a thunderstorm scheduled tonight. I expect that you won’t let it interfere with your performance? Surely you’ve outgrown that little silly phobia by now.”

To Laura, Carmilla looked like a deer in the headlights. Fingers flickering over the cards. “Of course, Mother.” she said at last, “A childish irrationality.”

Laura had to wonder. She hadn’t lived with Carmilla in years. She had no way of knowing if Carmilla had outgrown her hear of thunderstorms but the tension in Carmilla’s shoulders made her think that maybe she hadn’t.

Wouldn’t she have told Laura if they were still a problem?

For about an hour there was silence, Laura fiddled with her phone doing research for her next video. She was getting a fair amount of views on the first one although the comments were a puzzling mix of comments on the actual meat of the article and people just talking about the three seconds Carmilla had shown up. She’d considered cutting it out but that was a key point to her argument, so she’d just left it in. She shrugged, as long as people were listening she supposed it didn’t matter why.

She moved onto her next task. Picking flowers for her fake wedding. Just looking at the endless shots of plants with petals made her eyes cross.

They hadn’t even picked a colour yet. How was she supposed to pick flowers?

And shouldn’t she doing this with her fiance? Ignoring the fact that it was fake. She should be giggling over flowers and colours with Carmilla, not doing this on her own. Still, Laura sighed and kept going. Carmilla was stressed enough. She didn’t need to add to it.

Meanwhile, Mrs Karnstein and Perry discussed the set-up for the debate from nearby couches. Carmilla, however, stayed standing. Hovering in the middle of the room with an almost frantic pace as her eyes skipped over the cards.

Eventually Laura put down her phone, knee bouncing as she watched Carmilla. Laura’s free hand came up to fiddle with the ring on her left hand, she was just about to get up and pull Carmilla over to the big chair with her when Carmilla’s mother spoke.

“That’s enough darling,” she said, “if you haven’t failed me again, I’d expect that we’ve allotted you more than enough time to make up for your lack of foresight earlier. I have a series of set phrases for you to memorize before today’s debate. I’ve created a list of the most likely questions and my optimized answers for you to say.”

Almost mechanically, Carmilla went to her mother. Mutely taking over the new stack of cards handed to her.

“I don’t want to see any foul ups today Mircalla,” Mrs Karnstein continued, “your track record has been spotty thus far and as phenomenal as my performance has been, I cannot continually perform miracles to make up for your flaws.”

Laura stood, intentionally biting her tongue and gripping tightly to the edge of the chair behind her.

“I’ll make you proud, mother,” Carmilla promised. Her tone sent shivers of the wrong kind crawling down Laura’s skin. It was emotion-less. Something Carmilla never was. She was scathing and sarcastic and flirty and sassy and angry and sometimes adorable or embarrassed and happy but never just empty.

Mrs Karnstein nodded, “I certainly hope so, although I’m not holding my breath. However, I suppose it’s encouraging that you seem to have charmed Miss Hollis into believing that you are a credible campaign option. Perhaps your pretty face can fool others into overlooking your incompetencies as well.”

“That. Is. It.” Laura couldn’t do it anymore. She stomped over to the group, eyes flashing, “Overlook her incompetencies? Track record has been spotty? Make up for her flaws? Do you even hear yourself? First of all, that’s not how you talk to someone. A living, breathing someone. Nevermind that she’s your daughter. You just don’t do that. Those are horrible things to say to someone.”

Laura got right up in Mrs Karnstein’s face, ignoring the look of surprise on Perry’s face and the blatant panic on Carmilla’s, “And they’re not even true. Incompetencies? Spotty? What in the world are you talking about? Carmilla has managed to charm the pants off everyone we’ve met, her approval ratings soared after our engagement announcement, and I haven’t seen one article laying out any kind of flaw in her campaign. And I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for flaws in politicians.”

Laura was working extremely hard to not spit while she was talking, her emotions were running so high, “Sure, she’s gone off script with the engagement thing. But people loved it. They’re here for Carm and her policies, no matter how she phrases them. They react better to authenticity. For Hermione’s sake, that’s the key complaint about the other guy. Carmilla should be playing up the fact that she’s a real human and not some corporate stooge. She’s amazing as is. Pretty face or not. Just give her a couple bulletpoints and let her have at it. She’ll rock it.”

Her hands had migrated to her hips. Laura refused to move them, staring down Mrs Karnstein as silence filled the room. Carmilla’s mother was staring at her coldly. Eyes sweeping over her face as though calculating a thousand different thoughts and noticing things that Laura hadn’t even thought of yet.

Then her eyes narrowed and she stepped back. A smile on her face. Laura heard a sharp inhale slip from Carmilla’s lips behind her. Then Mrs Karnstein spoke, “thank you for your feedback, Miss Hollis. I will keep it in mind. And since you so believe in authenticity, perhaps you’d be willing to stand in the crowd and mingle during the debate, perhaps drum up some hands on support. As you’ve said before, you’re willing to do anything to help Mircalla’s campaign and I’m certain that having the fiancee in the crowd would be an asset.”

Then Carmilla’s mother turned towards the door, “Miss Perry, if you would go ensure that everything is in order. Miss Hollis and Mr Kirsch will accompany you. I will remain here with Mircalla to continue our final prep.”

Laura wanted to object but Carmilla put a hand on her back before she could do so and practically pushed her out of the room. So that was that.

#

Well that had gone… awfully actually. Not that Laura was going to tell Carmilla that. Her mother had already done it enough for nine lifetimes. In fact, Laura had been sent home alone while Carmilla stayed behind for additional prep. She’d tried to object but no-one seemed to be interested in little Laura Hollis’s opinion.

She huffed from where she was curled up in the big bed. As if anyone else understood Carmilla like she did. The only reason Carm had sounded so robotic was because she was freaking out and trying to parrot her mother’s words and make them fit the questions instead of actually answering the question.

But did anyone ask Laura? Nope.

She’d actually been able to have a bit of fun though, after being banished to the nosebleeds. One of the kids had spotted her and asked if she’d take a selfie with them and it had sort of escalated from there. Apparently being Carmilla’s fiancee made her kind of famous?

At least with the politically inclined parents with children under the age of 12.

Laura stretched in the big bed. Her foot migrated over to Carmilla’s side of the bed before yanking back underneath her when she realized there wasn’t a warm body to meet to. Muttering, Laura rolled over and grabbed Sir Bearington the Third from where he was stashed between the pillows. She tucked him under her arm.

Then she grabbed a book, determined to stay awake until Carmilla got back. Laura hadn’t even been able to speak to Carmilla after the debate, whisked away before she could say anything positive. If Carmilla been stressed out before the debate, then Laura wanted to be awake to help her sort it all out.

Those storms clouds weren’t helping either.

As Laura settled into the book, she hoped with everything she had that it wouldn’t storm.

The book was interesting, something she’d been meaning to read for months, but as the night wore on and Carmilla still didn’t return, Laura found her eyes falling. She fought against it. Sitting up. Getting water. But eventually the lull of the rain and the smell of Carmilla sent her eyes falling shut. Book still propped open on her chest.

Laura woke to screaming, screaming that was so familiar that her heart tore in two instead of bouncing in panic. She twisted in the sheets, flailing to extract herself from her blanket cocoon.

“Carm!” she called.

Finally sitting up, Laura lunged forward across the bed. Carmilla was twisting, illuminated by the streetlights outside the window in a sickening familiar picture. Her arms were tight to her chest, fingers clawing at her own skin. Legs nearly ramrod straight. But she tossed from side to side, throwing herself around in the bed. Face twisted. Eyes scrunched. Mouth open in a wordless cry that still managed to convey a deep, desperate panic between the gasps for air.

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a quiet boom.

Laura grabbed Carmilla’s shoulders, hating this. She pinned Carmilla and then gave her a shake. “Carmilla Karnstein!” she shouted as harshly as she could muster. After Laura had forced Carmilla to stop sleeping under an underpass every time there was a storm so that Laura wouldn’t hear her. This was what Carmilla had told her to do to wake her up.

Increase the terror. Remove mobility.

The sheer panic waking her from the dream.

The scream increased but Carmilla woke up. Eyes slamming open with a terror that shattered the little pieces left of Laura’s heart. Laura released her immediately, jumping backwards across the bed as fast as possible. Wanting to dissociate her image from whatever was frightening Carmilla so deeply.

Wanting to comfort her best friend instead of being forced to retreat until Carmilla could discern nightmare from reality. Holding her tight to her chest until her breathing slowed and nothing could touch her.

How dare anything have ever touched her.

But, something was wrong, the eyes that met hers in the flash of the lightning were still frozen with fear. Normally they’d have melted. Letting Laura curl up beside Carmilla, flick on the lights and talk about whatever she could think of before Carmilla fell asleep again. Instead Carmilla curled up in a ball against the headboard, eyes tracking Laura’s every movement like she was about to strike her.

The tiny fragments of her heart pounded to dust.

“Carm,” Laura said softly, “Carm, please. Let me help you.”

Carmilla actually inched away from her at the words.

Laura fought a curse, eyes scanning the dark room until her gaze landed on a silly option. The only that she could think of. One that blue skies Carmilla would have laughed at. But tonight the skies weren’t blue.

She tossed Sir Bearington the Third to Carmilla.

He landed with a plop on the pillow beside her. The air was still for a moment. Then, eyes never leaving Laura, Carmilla’s hand dashed out and grabbed the fuzzy offering. The bear was pulled to her chest, disappearing behind her knees.

Laura sat perched on the edge of the bed, frog-like.

Carmilla chin dropped slightly, something like confusion entering her eyes as they continued to bore into Laura’s. Chipping away at the terror there.

“Carm,” Laura said again. Carmilla didn’t respond. Laura tried to figure out what had happened. Why this time was different. Her eyes briefly went to the window, unable to find anything unusual about the storm.

When she looked back, Carmilla’s eyes had left her as her entire face was buried into the teddy bear. Breathing deeply. As Laura watched, Carmilla’s shoulders relaxed before they started shaking. Each inhale more of a gasp then a breath.

Those deep brown eyes came back up, peering at Laura from just over Carmilla’s knees. Shiny and red in the faint light. Surrounded by the sweaty hair matted to her face.

Carmilla’s face broke as she uttered a single word, “Laura.”

And Laura was jumping across the bed for a second time. Gathering Carmilla up into her arms until she was surrounding Carmilla on all sides. Until she was sure that nothing outside could touch her girl. Pulling her closer until she could feel Carmilla’s gasps on her neck and her sweaty skin sticking to Laura’s own.

Carmilla’s fingers clutched lightly at her shirt before slipping underneath to press a single palm against her stomach. Matching her breaths. Laura however clung to Carmilla, fingers digging in to stop only just before the point of bruises. Intermittently rubbing circles on her back.

Normally she would speak. Natter on into the night about anything she could think of. Carmilla tucked in beside her.

But this wasn’t normally. Normally Carmilla didn’t look at her with terror. Normally Carmilla wasn’t curled up on her lap leaving wet tears to creep down Laura’s skin and slid under her shirt before they’re whisked away by the fabric. Normally Laura had things to say instead of the powdered remains of her heart sitting in her chest.

So Laura said nothing. She just clutched Carmilla and made sure to move her stomach when she breathed and rocked slightly and forced a hum through the powdered remains of her heart and prayed that it would be enough.

Eventually Carmilla’s tears dried on her neck. Still, Laura didn’t let go. She only slid them downward so their heads were resting on the yellow pillow. Uncaring if Carmilla realized how tangled up their were sleeping.

But Carmilla only pulled her closer. Nuzzling her nose under her jaw where the tears had dried and entwining their legs in a mess of limbs.

And so they fell asleep. Nightmare-free and mixed together until a call from a reporter set up by Carmilla’s mother woke them.

Sir Bearington the Third still pressed between them.

Chapter Text

Carmilla still wasn’t exactly sure how Laura’s nose did that. Carmilla sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, watching as Laura talked wildly to her camera in the living room. Nose scrunched with these adorable little crinkles as she tried to keep the words from spilling out too quickly. Cookie crumbs on the coffee table from where she’d been dunking the chocolately treat in her coffee.

In her flailings, Laura accidentally knocked over her half-full mug. She lunged after it before jumping back up with a triumphant grin. Waving the mug around and accidentally splattering the liquid over her track pants.

The nose crinkle came back.

Carmilla chuckled.

Suddenly those eyes were turning towards her, flashing. Laura grinned and looked over, “Something amuse you, Miss Karnstein?” she asked.

Rolling her eyes, Carmilla reached out and tossed Laura a dishtowel. Hitting her in the head. Laura fought the smile, trying to glare at Carmilla.

“Just afraid for the cleanliness of my couch.” Carmilla said.

“I told you not to pick white fabric when you decorated!” Laura said, dabbing at the coffee spot and turning back to the camera. Launching into her rant as though she hadn’t just had an adorably klutzy moment.

Adorable. Carmilla bit back the groan. She had a problem.

Something squawked in her ear, “Carmilla!” Perry’s voice was shrill in the earpiece, “are you even listening to me?”

“No.” Carmilla deadpanned, “Laura’s turned our apartment into a newsroom and I can’t hear you over all the cutting edge reporting going on.” Plus adorable nose scrunching.

The dishtowel flew back, landing on her face and leaving Carmilla blinking in the dark as the smell of wet coffee filled her nose. She tugged it from her head, scowling, only to find Laura giggling on the couch. Camera still running.

Who could keep scowling at that?

To be fair, Carmilla gave it her best effort. But then one of Laura’s giggles turned into a snort and Carmilla’s mouth twitched up of its own accord.

“Well, you can't just ignore this,” Perry was still nattering in her ear, “your mother is not at all pleased at your drop in the polls after that debate last week.”

Carmilla tensed, “The drop was small relative to how bad it could have been.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” If nothing else, Perry was diplomatic.

“Yes. It was.” Carmilla said. Laura bounced off her feet and shut off the camera.

“Regardless,” Perry said, “she’s called in Miss Belmonde to deal with it.”

Carmilla nearly dropped the phone, “She’s calling Mattie?” Her stomach dropped, “Mother’s really that upset?” That would not bode well for her.

Laura ambled over, eyes focused on the cookies sitting on the counter just behind Carmilla’s torso. At Mattie’s name, she raised an eyebrow, hand sneaking out.

Carmilla smacked it down. She was standing between Laura and the cookies for a reason. Mainly preserving her blood sugar.

“Mattie’s coming in today,” Perry confirmed then started rattling off details.

She didn’t hear a word, a tad distracted as Laura practically lunged into her lap to try and reach over her to get the treats. Carmilla huffed, wrapping an arm around Laura’s waist and wrestling her closer. Just cutting off her short arms from doing anything more than grazing the edge of the package. She could practically feel Laura’s pout against her neck. Then Laura squirmed, attempting to break free as she slipped downward and Carmilla almost dropped her. So Carmilla clutched her tighter and her knee jolted up, coming up between Laura’s legs to try and hold her in place. Laura had half a dozen of those cookies already and it was barely past lunch.

Laura squirmed again to free herself.

Then she froze.

She stared at Carmilla and suddenly Carmilla realized just how close they were. Her arms wrapped around Laura’s waist, touching completely from stomach to torso. Every curve pressed together. Laura’s hands on her shoulders, the fingers that had once been trying to push back suddenly limp against her. One finger slipped past the safety of her t-shirt collar for the gentlest graze of skin on skin.

Her leg between Laura’s. Pushing up.

A forbidden memory swallowing her attention for a moment. She willed her leg to stay still.

A newer memory brought Carmilla back to the moment. The lightest pressure of air across her lips. Bouncing from Laura’s mouth to hers across the small space and bringing with it the memory of a caress, the promise of softness.

“And I need you to be there at 2 so-” she hung up on Perry.

Laura still hadn’t moved. Their faces so close together that Carmilla couldn’t read Laura’s expression. Didn’t know how to begin to read this expression.

Because it was foreign.

And yet wasn’t.

A mix of so many faces she’d seen befor. All mushed together and frozen in a single moment. The furrowed brow of a Laura pouring over her textbooks trying to find an answer. The flushed cheeks of a Laura who had dragged Carmilla out into the snow and insisted on building a snowman bigger than they were. The eyes of a Laura who was untamable, unnamable, and indecipherable as she looked at Carmilla from across a dorm room or an apartment or a computer screen with a look that Carmilla couldn’t name because she’d never seen it on anyone else. Never seen it pointed at her.

The lips of a Laura whom Carmilla had just kissed.

Carmilla’s teeth grazed her own lip, then retracted.

But Laura didn’t feel that way.

Once, just once, Carmilla had thought maybe. Maybe she did. Promises had rolled off tongues only to be forgotten with the rise of the sun, sacred only under stars. Stars that held secrets and faded under the greater light of the sun.

But Laura didn’t feel that way.

The sun was out.

So Carmilla let go. Pulling her arm back and dropped her leg so the cold ring of her heel against ceramic ran through the kitchen.

“Careful, cupcake,” she said with a smirk, “stare at me too long and you’ll go blind.”

It took Laura a second. She shook her head and for a moment it looked as though she was clearing away fog but the shake quickly dissolved into an eyeroll, “Full of yourself much? You’re not the sun.” Laura said.

She kept the smile from being sad, choosing to keep the smirk alive, “Yes, I am.”

Then with a wink, Carmilla strolled out.

Taking the cookies with her.

#

They were so late and Mattie hated late. Laura bounced up and down as though her actions could make the car move faster. Carmilla sat beside her, apparently unbothered by their tardiness with her nose buried in a book that Laura was sure she’d read at least half a dozen times. It was all Carmilla’s fault, she should be the one caring about this. She’s the one who hung up on Perry.

Although to be fair, Laura hadn’t exactly noticed at the time.

She let her head slam against the window, enjoying the cool pressure of the glass as she felt her cheeks heat up. Watching the fat snowflakes drift from the sky only to melt the second they hit the pavement.

She thought she was past this. She really did. Even if the kiss they’d had at the engagement announcement had been amazing. That was just. It was only.

Laura bit back a groan. Carmilla was just a good kisser and there was nothing different about what had happened and it was just cause she hadn’t kissed anyone in a while and if she kissed someone else she would have totally had the same reaction.

And what happened this morning was totally just physiological. Carmilla was hot. She was used to Carmilla being hot.

In her first year, Laura had just come to accept that she was physically attracted to her roommate. It didn’t mean anything. All the times, it didn’t mean anything. Sexual attraction was just a thing that most bodies did. There was nothing behind it.

Which didn’t explain why she’d frozen. Why it felt different. Everything felt different.

Except not. All at the same time. Which was confusing. Like something she’d known but hadn’t noticed.

“You alright there, creampuff?” Carmilla’s voice jolted her back.

“Uh, yeah?” Laura said, “why wouldn’t I be?”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “Because you’re slowly smashing your head against the window.”

Laura winced. Stupid subconscious with it’s stupid repetitive actions that she didn’t even realize she was doing. She fought for an explanation.

“Oh.” was all that came out. Brilliant Hollis.

For a moment, Carmilla’s face flashed through a dozen expressions. Then, switching the book to her left hand, Carmilla patted the space beside her, “come on. Let’s get you away from that window. i think it’s giving you brain damage.”

She knew she shouldn’t but Laura slipped into Carmilla’s side before she could consciously think not to. Carmilla’s arm coming up around her shoulder as she went right back to reading her book.

It was warm. Blessedly warm. The kind of warm that shot straight from Carmilla’s side to pound through her chest and fill her straight to her toes.

Which was the problem.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, it felt right and good and safe and home and like this was exactly the place where she was supposed to be because otherwise everything was just so cold. And things with Carmilla always felt like that but suddenly Laura was noticing it. She was aware of it. Every single second.

Like when the light would catch her hand and Carmilla’s ring would glint and suddenly she’d be smiling and where did that even come from and why didn’t it feel odd?

Laura turned her head, Carmilla shifting to accommodate her, and stared at the bare space on Carmilla’s left hand. Watching as she slowly turned the pages.

And why in the world did that simple action make her smile? Smile because it was just so Carmilla. Like when they’d been wrestling for the cookies and she’d frozen. Sure, Carmilla’s leg had been pressed up against her and yes, it had brought back flashbacks that she was still trying very hard to pretend didn’t exist but that was normal.

Sexual attraction. No problem. that was standard Carmilla fair.

Laura moved her attention up to Carmilla’s face. Tracing over her profile. Definitely hot.

But trapped against Carmilla’s side or pulled against her chest in a wrestling match felt safe and warm and all Laura had wanted to do was just kiss her best friend. For hours. Just kiss. Closed mouth kisses tracing out her face and landing on that bump of a nose and drawing their way up Carmilla’s jawline.

Just because she could.

Because she felt safe and happy and-

“Alright,” Carmilla head turned before Laura was ready, “What’s wrong cupcake. I’m the broody one in this fake relationship and you’re just going to waste effort trying to beat me.”

Laura nibbled lightly on her lip.

“What’s wrong, Laura?” Carmilla’s voice was softer. Lips closer.

“I just,” Laura’s leg started bouncing again, “Okay, so like, communication is important in any kind of relationship right? And i’ve been thinking a lot and I’m a little bit confused, I mean not really confused, and it’s not anything weird but maybe it is and I don’t know and how are you supposed to know what’s normal and what you’re supposed to feel like unless you know what you’re not supposed to feel like? I tried talking to Laf about it the other day and they told me that you just have to run a bunch of trials so that you have comparisons and something about a null hypothesis and i don’t want to mess anything up.”

And she should totally be quiet now. Why couldn’t she keep her head when Carmilla was that close?

Carmilla’s eyebrows had made their way up to her hairline.

Just as she was about to speak, Laura’s phone let out a ding. She jumped for it, tearing her gaze away from Carmilla’s. Taking the chance to breath. She flicked to the screen, read the message, and let out a squeal.

She spun towards Carmilla, “Danny’s coming into town!”

Carmilla leaned back against the window, “Brilliant.”

“Oh come on,” Laura rolled her eyes. Danny had given her an out from the moment and she was taking it, “Don’t give me the whole sarcastic routine. Danny’s nice and she’s my friend. I haven’t seen her in months since she got that job coaching the University of Vancouver’s track team.”

Suddenly Carmilla was right back in Laura’s space, flashing her a trademarked smirk and running a finger down Laura’s leg, “But you’re my fiancee now. I think I get ex-girlfriend hating rights.”

Laura forced an eyeroll, “You’ve never liked Danny. Me being your fiancee changes nothing.”

“It better change things to Lawrence,” Carmilla said.

There was almost something possessive in the way she was looking at Laura. Finger stilling as Carmilla’s entire hand came down, pressing against Laura’s thigh. Laura tangled their fingers together and Carmilla’s thumb came up to press against the engagement ring.

“That ship has sailed,” Laura said.

Carmilla snorted, “For you maybe.”

“Isn’t that all that matters?” Laura asked.

“Maybe I just don’t like the way she looks at my girl,” Carmilla’s voice came as a whisper, easily carrying through the small space between them. The car pulling to a stop.

Laura swallowed, “Just trust me, Carm?”

The pause was heavy. Thick and rich as Carmilla stared down at her, brown eyes roving her face with a concentration that Laura didn’t know what to do with. An expression that Laura didn’t know what to do with. Familiar and unfamiliar. Something inside her begging to kiss the frown lines right off Carmilla’s forehead or lightly brush the hovering lips with her own.

Just sexual attraction. Just sexual attraction. The mantra. The only mantra.

“I trust you,” Carmilla said at last, “more than anyone.”

Laura couldn’t help it. She leaned forward, brushing Carmilla’s cheek with her lips. The edges of their mouths just touching in a way that somehow calmed Laura and sent a spark running through her.

“Great! We’re here!” Laura practically shouted, bolting out the car door before she did something stupid.

#

She was going to do something stupid. Namely, strangle Mattie. Or Will. But probably Mattie.

The only thing keeping her from doing so was Carmilla’s hand in hers as Mattie practically dragged them through the large park. Playing the part of the perfect couple.

It had started nearly the moment she’d bolted from the car and had found Mattie hovering right outside the door. Laura jumped, barely managing to avoid hitting Carmilla’s sister.

“Hollis,” Mattie acknowledged, “Wonderful to see you again.”

Mattie’s smile was tight and her gaze the kind of calculating that churned Laura’s stomach as they swept over her. Laura narrowed her eyes, gauging the sincerity of the greeting.

Then Mattie continued, “Although it is a tad surprising to see you for the first time in months as my sisters financee without ever having heard that the two of you were dating. Still,” Mattie’s smile was stiff, “A pleasure.”

“Oh, yeah. Um. Well, you know how it goes,” Laura said, “Two best friends. Fall in love. Don’t know how to talk about their feelings because ha! Feelings. Going from friends to something more that would just be a disaster and who in their right mind would actually ever take that chance because you could totally ruin everything that ever meant anything to you. Wow wouldn’t that be complicated and hey family just makes it worse.” Laura’s eyes widened at her words, “Not that you’re worse or bad or anything. I just. Um. With Carmilla’s whole campaign thing we wanted to keep it a secret and -”

Mattie waved a hand at her, “Enough with the inarticulate sputtering. You’re going to give me a headache. Clearly your astounding proficiency with the written word doesn’t carry over to the verbal format.”

“I’ve started a web-blog and it’s verbal and it’s doing very well thank you very much!” Laura said, trying extremely hard not to stomp her foot.

“I’m aware,” Mattie said, “It’s on my list of things to discuss now that you’re formally my sister’s fiancee.”

Again, Laura was treated to her scrutinizing glare.

Finally, finally, finally Carmilla came out of the car.

“Mattie!” Carmilla said, launching herself around the car and into her sister’s arms, “when Mother’s ginger stooge told me you were flying in, I almost didn’t believe that you’d managed to drag yourself away from Montreal.”

“Only for you,” Mattie said. Then she booped Carmilla on the nose. Laura tried not to think about how cute Carmilla’s offended face was. “And don’t you Mattie me, you little monster.” Mattie continued, “You’re up to your neck in this nonsense. I have to hear from the newspapers that you’ve suddenly managed to acquire a fiancee? And your supposed best friend, at that? Surely, darling, I was worth a phone call.”

Carmilla shuffled her feet slightly, “It all happened really fast.”

The calculating look was back and as much as Laura didn’t like it direct at herself, she really didn’t like it pointed at Carmilla, “I’m sure.”

That was all Laura could hear before she had an armful of Will, “Hollis!” he shouted, “Welcome to the family!” Then he picked her up so Laura’s feet were hovering over the ground. She couldn’t help the laugh that popped out. “Of course,” Will continued, “it would have been nice to know in advance that it was an option. Sure, kitty’s always been totally crushing on you but can’t say that I thought you returned the sentiment or anything. And I missed out on crashing date nights and I’ve got months worth of teasing to make up for.”

He dropped her back on the ground and Laura stumbled, still stuck on his words.

Will slung an arm over her shoulders, “You’ve got to tell me how you finally got Miss Wild and Crazy over there to settle down and actually commit. I thought she’d be terrified forever. Frankly, the first time she told me you two were getting married I thought it was a joke.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” Will’s arm was shoved to the side as Carmilla’s took its place.

Will was still grinning, nonplussed at his sister’s apparent protective streak, “I can see that.”

Laura looked up at Carmilla, cheeks pink in the light snowfall, before glancing behind her to see Mattie. Still staring.

“I was just asking Laura here,” Will continued, “when you finally told her about that long term unrequited crush you’ve been harbouring? Perhaps, you’d like to fill me in.” He turned to Laura before Carmilla could respond, “she was so moony with all that stealing your pillow and panicking when you ran out of hot chocolate. It was gross. Plus the whole denial thing and all the terrible one night stands that she’d bring to family dinners to piss off mother. Seriously, Hollis, I think you owe me a wedding present for dealing with it for years.”

“Long term unrequited crush?” Laura could barely squeak out the words.

Her gaze shot straight back to Carmilla, cheeks still pink. Definitely from the snow. Will was exaggerating. Seeing things that weren’t there because it made sense with the fake engagement presented to him.

That had to be it.

Carmilla avoided her gaze.

“Frankly,” Mattie called over and some of the tension dropped from Carmilla’s arm, allowing it to finally settle properly around Laura, “I’m much more interested in when Miss Hollis here realized the depths of her feelings for our little Mircalla. The last time I had the pleasure of seeing her, I don’t recall getting any indication of her being in love.” Her gaze ran up and down Laura, “Despite seemingly being joined at the hip, Miss Hollis seemed much more interested in her journalistic endeavours than her concern for my sister. In fact, do I recall a double date of sorts?” Mattie tutted, “That’s quite a commitment to a secret darlings.”

Laura’s stomach dropped out and her breath caught. Mattie was onto them. She was so onto them. Why they ever thought they could fool Carmilla’s bloodhound of an older sister was crazy and Mattie was scary and she was definitely onto them.

Carmilla’s grip tightened around Laura, dropping to her waist and tucking them together as close as the winter coats would allow.

And Laura could breath again.

“I’m more interested,” Carmilla said, “in the hoard of reporters over there.”

Mattie waved a hand dismissively as Laura peered past her to see a group of press reporters hovering just outside the park boundary pointing cameras at them. Anything to break Mattie’s gaze. She squinted then frowned, easily making out the annoyingly blonde hair that was Elle.

Laura tucked in a little closer to Carmilla.

“I’m sure Mother called them,” Mattie said, “you know she tips off the press as often as possible to ensure that you have maximum exposure.”

“Great.” Carmilla muttered.

“I should think so,” Mattie said, “you need all the help you can get after that poor excuse for a debate. Frankly, kitty-cat, I didn’t know you could sound so much like Mother. I know she has her head games but you need to stop letting her get to you. So smile for the press and act all in love with your little fiancee while you pick out the perfect spot for your wedding ceremony.”

“That’s why we’re here?” Laura cut in, “we don’t get any say?”

Mattie gave her that look again, then stepped in close to cut off Will from the conversation. He didn’t seem to notice, waving at the reporters. Mattie sighed, “I’m fairly convinced it doesn’t matter to you where you have the ceremony, now does it? I mean really, darlings, you expect to fool me with this little charade? Hollis, you’ve never been a particularly astute actress. You’re practically an open book.”

Yupp. Totally onto them.

Laura’s mouth resembled a gaping fish while Carmilla’s flattened into a line.

Mattie raised her hand, “All I will say,” her eyes bore right into Carmilla’s, “is that I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Laura tried to figure out why that sounded so much like it was laced with sympathy but before she could, Mattie’s gaze dropped to her, “and I hope that you,” Mattie said, “are very careful with what you’ve been given.”

She had no clue what to make of that. At all. As far as she could tell, all she had been given was a temporary forced new career trajectory, an inside look into the horror that was Mrs Karnstein, and a bad case of conflicted emotions.

None of which seemed like something she should be enjoying.

She’d immediately been distracted by Mattie’s next words, “The latest election results are in. Rekner lost in his bi-election.”

Carmilla’s inhale was sharp, “Both our party members lost?”

“All on you, lil’ sis.” Will said, thumping her on the back.

Laura frowned, brain whirling. Exactly as Carmilla’s mother had predicted. Exactly. How did that happen?

Mattie hadn’t exactly given her a chance to dwell on it. She’d started yanking them down the path deeper into the park with Will trailing behind them. Mattie had started with a pavilion, suggesting the shiny metal shelter was the perfect place for the ceremony.

Laura shut her down immediately. She couldn’t see Carmilla ever getting married in something with so little character.

The next site involved a cliff and Laura had frozen, Carmilla backing her away when her body refused to move. They’d wasted five minutes as Carmilla yelled at Mattie, holding Laura to her chest as Laura took large, calming breathes. Snuggling into the black coat and red scarf that smelled of hints of leather and burnt coffee and old books and everything that was Carmilla.

Then it was the lakehouse and then the cabins and then the rec hall and then the pine trees. Every one had been vetoed. Carmilla speaking up to say no if Laura didn’t. She was thankful. None of them felt right. Not one. She didn’t care if the engagement was fake or not.

It wasn’t right.

Mattie was growing progressively more frustrated. The slight pulse of the vein in her neck and the increasing tension in Carmilla’s shoulders making for an obvious tell.

Will was the only saving grace. His constant jabs at their love life annoying, but a tension breaker.

But now Laura just stared. Mattie couldn’t have been serious with this suggestion. Seriously, she couldn’t even try and take this engagement seriously. Fake or otherwise?

Swan boats.

Tacky, run-down, plastic swan boats. The lake itself was gorgeous. Small waves created in the wind as the snow settled and then disappeared across the surface. A blue so dark it was almost black.

But the boats.

Carmilla spoke up first, “No. Just no, Mattie. I will not get married next to a garish display of rundown sensationalist birds and falsely romantic plastic beasts.”

“Like a cliche love story,” Laura agreed.

“Sickenly sweet,” Carmilla said.

“Straight out of a bad romance novel.”

“For high school students that’s so stereotypical you want to tear your eyes out.”

“Because you know the ending before it even started,” Laura said, giggling as Carmilla grinned down at her.

“I thought you be eating this kind of thing up,” Carmilla was turned entirely towards Laura, “you make us watch those cliche rom coms all the time.”

Laura rolled her eyes, hands on Carmilla’s hips, “We watch them because you secretly like them but refuse to say so, leaving me to be the one who has to suggest them. Can’t ruin your tough image and all that.”

Watching Carmilla watch rom-coms was a sight to behold. All snuggle up under the blankets. her face stoic for the first 30 minutes before slowly collapsing into a tiny adorable smile.

“Swan boats are the kind of cliche trope that ruins love for normal people. Makes it all grand gestures and crap,” Carmilla insisted as though Laura hadn’t seen her bawl over The Notebook.

Which, she would point out the next time they watched it, actually featured real swans and boats.

“Oh come on,” Will said, cutting them off “This was my idea. The boats are romantic. You take your girl out on the lake and it’s sunny and gorgeous. Swans are romantic as anything.”

Carmilla’s breath showed in the cold, as she turned to look at Mattie, “You’re taking his advice now? The boy who thinks that public bathrooms are a good place to get in a girl’s pants for the first time?”

“I am running out of options. I didn’t think the locale would matter quite this much.” Mattie said, “You and your little fiancee have vetoed everything else so unless you have another suggestion, we’re stuck with the swans.”

Carmilla’s mouth opened, a small puff of air escaping, before she closed it again. Frowning.

Will jumped forward, “Come on, kitty cat. Don’t tell you haven’t ever imagined marrying Hollis here?”

“I-” Carmilla swallowed hard, gaze jumping down to Laura’s. Eyes searching for something. Without knowing for what, all Laura could do was stare back. Hoping Carmilla would find something.

There’s no way Carmilla had thought about this.

Laura had but that was something else entirely. It didn’t mean anything. Just a way to pass the time picturing the dress and where they’d take the photos and how she knew exactly the ring she’d give Carmilla and... normal stuff that all friends thought about.

But Carmilla hated weddings. She laughed dismissively every time Laura tried to get her to play along or pour over wedding magazines. Refusing to even look at the white dresses.

“I like the lake,” the words seemed to drag from Carmilla’s throat, eyes locked on Laura as small snowflakes landed in her dark hair. “It’s dark and it’s wild. But. Well.” Stuttering Carmilla should not have been so adorable, “there’s this park with a pond back in Toronto that we used to go to. With willow trees so tall you can stand under their leaves and not be touched by anything else. Where it’s quiet and nothing else matters.”

Carmilla shrugged and looked down at her black boots, “I always figured, it’d be there.”

Laura’s mitten was off before she could make the conscious choice, her bare fingers whispering across Carmilla’s cheek to land just behind her ear. Buried in the warmth of her neck and her hair. Skin soft.

With her thumb Laura nudged the corner of Carmilla’s jaw, trying to bring her head up.

Carmilla refused, chin staying buried in her scarf. Eyes focused downward. But her head tilted slightly, nuzzling into the touch.

Mattie cut between them. Shoving them apart as she huffed and grabbed Carmilla’s arm, dragging her along, “I should have known you were going to be stubborn about this.”

Frozen for a moment, Laura toddled after the pair once Will’s hand touched her back and pushed her along. She scrambled to put the mitten back on as it snagged on the engagement ring.

“DIdn’t know kitty was quite so romantic,” he said. When Laura looked up, his face was serious for once, “she must really love you.”

Laura swallowed, “She’s my best friend.”

That, at least, was the truth.

They made their way down a small path alongside the lake, slightly obscured by a mess of trees and the boathouse. Distracted by the Karnstein beside her, Laura failed to notice where they were until they arrived.

She stopped dead, letting Will slip from her grasp.

Carmilla frozen just a step ahead of her before snapping out of it and turning towards her. A smirk flashing across Carmilla’s face when she saw Laura’s immobility.

Laura didn’t care.

The forest of trees had given way to an stretch of land where grass and mud touched the edge of the lake as the snow drifted down around them. Clustered around the edge of the lake, enjoying the moist soil, was a group of willow trees. The leaves were gone but the skeletal remains of the branches hung low to the ground, swaying gently in the breeze from the lake. Covered in snow, they would be everything. White icicles brought to life in a brilliant display of winter.

“We’ll set-up a tent, of course,” Mattie said. Laura briefly registering the smugness in her voice.

Laura’s hand came out, reaching forward to grab at Carmilla. Clasping against her arm. Carmilla’s free hand up to cover her.

“I think they like it,” Will cut in before striding off to chuck rocks in the lake.

“Mattie,” Laura felt Carmilla shift as she spoke, “This is much more your style. Why didn’t you lead with this?”

There was a pause, then Mattie said, “I thought that I might save it for future opportunities.”

Carmilla’s hand clenched for a moment then let go, stepping away from Laura. “Oh, of course.” her voice had changed to something flatter, “Well. You’re right. It’s perfect. We might as well just use it.”

“Very well,” Mattie said, “Mother’s asked me to arrange this whole affair. Frankly, I’ll be keeping it simple. Get this booked as quickly and with as little fuss as possible, no need to waste everyone’s time. I do have a life, you know. Just keep an eye on the return and deposit policies but otherwise-”

Mattie kept speaking but Laura wasn’t listening. She stepped forward slowly, leaving Carmilla and Mattie behind her. She kept going until she almost reached the edge of the lake, bracketed by willow trees. Ignoring the snowflakes drifted around her, Laura closed her eyes.

Then she slowly spun, back to one of the trees, lake at her side.

And opened her eyes.

She could see it. It was so easy and so simple. She could see Carmilla standing across from her in some black suit or white dress and she’d be smiling that one smile that she saved only for Laura and she’d pretend not to be crying but only Laura would be close enough to see how misty her eyes were. There’d be frozen white trees behind her and a lake beside her and their families would be there and she wouldn’t see any of it because even in her imagination Laura couldn’t look away for the girl standing across from her.

Her chest ached and her eyes stung and it was so easy and it shouldn’t be.

But it was.

Because it was Carmilla.

The ring on Laura hand was heavy as it reminded her that it wasn’t a matching pair. That it could be. But it wasn’t. Because she hadn’t asked. Hadn’t given. Still stuffed away.

But it could be. And with rings on her mind all Laura could see was her slipping a ring on Carmilla’s finger and how Carmilla’s hands would probably shake and Laura could hold them until the shakes passed and Carmilla understood that she’d always be there to stop the shaking. And she’d still be holding them when they said ‘kiss the bride’.

She’d get to kiss Carmilla and hold her tight and no-one else would ever get to kiss her again. The thought setting off fireworks in her stomach. No more seeing Carmilla’s one night stands or reading in the gossip rags about Karnstein’s latest fling or watching Elle smirk at them. Just hers. Only hers.

Except Carmilla didn’t love her.

And Laura didn’t love Carmilla.

This was fake.

The image of Carmilla began to waver as water came to her eyes unbidden.

So Laura closed them. Squeezed them tight and clasped her arms around herself with no-one else there to hold her.

Until there was. Hands coming up to her shoulders and a warmth letting her know that someone was standing so close but still just a movement away. The smell leaving no question as to who was holding her like she was about to break.Gently and firmly.

“Laura?” Carmilla said softly.

Laura shook her head, eyes squeezing tighter and unable to keep a little bit of moisture from leaking out. But she couldn’t open them. Couldn’t see Carmilla standing in front of her. Standing across from her.

Standing there.

There was stillness for a moment, Carmilla’s soft inhales catching her ears between the whisps of the wind. Laura could practically feel Carmilla’s gaze, watching, calculating. Slightly panicked.

Then the hands on her shoulders slid. One coming down to pull her arms from her chest and take her hand while the other detoured to her waist. Frozen between breaths until Carmilla took a small step forward and they were chest to chest. Carmilla’s face a hairsbreadth from her own. So that even with her eyes closed, she could see every twitch.

With a gentle pressure they were moving. Carmilla whisking her across the snow into a waltz as Laura’s hands came into their positions automatically. They’d waltzed before. Laura had practically demanded that Carmilla teach her when she’d first found out. They’d waltzed in cramped dorm rooms and tiny apartments and small Toronto parks and zoos beside panther enclosures under the stars and at fancy balls.

But this was different. This cracking and mending all at the same time.

Laura didn’t even have to think about the steps. Moving was easy with Carmilla pressed so tightly against her. Every muscle, every twitch an indication of where they were going. A fluidity matched only in memories that she rarely let herself examine. So they danced. The frozen grass breaking under their feet as Carmilla’s breath melted snowflakes before they could touch her face.

This was the dance.

The wedding dance she’d never get to have.

Whirling together over green grass and beneath a snowy sky with dormant trees around them. Following and leading all in the same breath with steps seared into her memory so that every crossover and step back was a path she’d tread before.

Until she changed it.

Laura twirled in Carmilla’s arms, coming back around closer than they’d been before. Her cheek pressed against Carmilla’s. Their movements dropping to a simple sway. Carmilla didn’t pull away. Their hands dropped to come together. Laura clasping around Carmilla’s torso and Carmilla’s arms dropped to her waist.

If she only got one dance, she didn’t want to let go.

She couldn’t stop the tear from leaking out. Pressing itself into the crack between their skin.

Hands still tight, the warmth of Carmilla’s face against her own disappeared then was replaced with the fluttering pressure against her cheek. Lips softly covering the tear and whisking it away. Leaving only the track of its path behind.

Laura opened her eyes.

And Carmilla was there. Standing across from her. Pressed together. In a field where they were supposed to never get married.

All concerned eyes and dark curls with snowflakes dancing around them and softly landing on her. White against a black background. Laura couldn’t figure out how they didn’t immediately melt away from the warmth that was Carmilla. The end of their last dance swirling between them and the warmth of Carmilla’s kiss slowly fading from cheek.

The girl standing across from her between the blowing willow trees as though nothing else existed.

Laura kissed her. A simple lift of her toes and her lips were pressed against Carmilla’s again. This time there was no surprise. No hesitation like the kiss in front of the crowd. This was a kiss that no-one was allowed to see but the safety of willow trees and snow. Carmilla’s lips were instantly moving against her own, pulling the last dredges of their dance onward.

Refusing to let the song end.

Eyes closing again.

Laura’s hands were in Carmilla’s hair, the silky strands that she’d braided and played with so many times now wound in unfamiliar positions between her fingers. Carmilla’s hands on her waist pulling her closer without being close enough.

She was warm, like the heat from the stars was passing through Carmilla into her. Filling her from top to bottom with some unnamable warmth that felt like movie night cuddles and blankets draped over her shoulders during late night study sessions and hot chocolate delivered to snowy crime scenes at 2 in the morning.

Always warm despite the chill.

Safe in this small place where the world couldn’t touch them. Where willow trees blocked out sight lines and Carmilla could just be Carmilla and Laura could hold her close and it meant everything without having to mean something.

Just them.

Some things didn’t need to be said when the stars were out and Carmilla was lying beside her with discarded burger wrappers beside them, pointing out constellations whisking in and out visibility as the branches swayed.

As her breath started to run out, Laura kissed Carmilla harder. Hand in her hair caressing the skin of Carmilla’s neck, cool touch of the ring warming under the contact.

“BOOM CHICKA WAWA!” Will’s cry had Carmilla pulling back and despite the fact that her eyes remained closed, Laura could feel them water. “That’s what i call a kiss!” Will shouted.

Laura scrunched her face, trying to settle herself.

Carmilla’s lips brushed against her nose in the quickest peck.

Laura opened her eyes. Carmilla was still right there, staring down at her. Hands still clasped around her, keeping them close. White snowflakes still in her dark hair and the reflection of the sun in her eyes.

“Stars.” Laura breathed the word.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t get married during the day,” Laura let the words out, percolating in the warmth and pulled forward by the girl standing across from her, “Not with the sun out. that’s not you. And not in the tent. No tents. You’d get married under stars because you love them and you don’t trust the sun and you’d want them all there watching you because you said that stars hold promises.” Laura took a breath and continued, “so no tents and not during the day. You need to get married under stars.”

Carmilla’s mouth hung slightly open, fingers digging into Laura’s back. Gaze intense. Sweeping Laura’s face.

So she turned away, feeling the blush rise and directing her gaze vaguely in the direction of Mattie’s waist, “Can we do that? Stars? I mean, I know you said you didn’t want to put in too much effort and I guess it doesn’t really matter because… you know.” She didn’t even want to say it, “but it wouldn’t be too much more would it? Like, it gets dark at six and we could just order some big heaters instead of getting a tent and those have to be returnable too.”

She was only met with silence.

Laura dragged her gaze upward, finally looking at Mattie’s face. The eldest Karnstein was staring at her again but the piercing nature of her gaze had faded to something else. Wider eyes, lowered chin. As Laura watched, the hint of a smile appeared.

“Can we do that?” Laura repeated, feeling slightly safer from Mattie’s wrath with Carmilla still wrapped around her.

Mattie snapped back and nodded, “We can do that.”

Then she turned and waved her fingers, “Come along darlings. Lots to do, so little time to do it. We’re going to need to schedule dress fittings and call a caterer and the florist and perhaps a string quartet. I’ll need to reschedule my flight back to Montreal and someone needs to fly in my assistants because if we’re going to do this properly then I’m going to need lackies.” She paused, “and would someone please drag William away from that lake. I’m going to need him. Tell him he can taste test cakes or something.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of work,” Carmilla said, “I thought you were taking this easy?”

Mattie’s gaze caught Laura’s and held, “Little sister only gets married once.”

Laura swallowed and forced out the words, taking a step out of Carmilla’s arms “Fake married.”

“of course dear,” there was a glint in Mattie’s eyes, “of course.” There was a beat, then she said, “Now, we have to talk about those videos of yours.”

#

Laura was definitely going to try and murder her sister. Carmilla could hear their voices drifting in from the living room as she lounged across the large bed with her book resting open on her stomach. The voices weren’t exactly calm. She smiled at the image, picturing Laura’s scrunched nose and Mattie’s PR face as they faced Laura’s camera.

Mattie had decided that Laura wasn’t being diplomatic enough with her videos for Carmilla’s campaign and had decided to ‘come help’.

Fiddling with the edges of the pages, she smiled at the words blasting by.

Laura first, “A senator was found using public money to attend private curling matches and rent private boxes at hockey games.”

Mattie was quick to correct, “Re-allocated funds to assert himself into situations with high interaction from private citizens in venues close to national hearts.”

Laura again, “alleging that the bi-election was rigged in favour of Hoipsien with bribes coming from so far un-named third party sources.”

“The potential exists for non-conventional polling policies due to the influence of highly concerned citizens for the welfare of our great nation.” Mattie countered.

“A penguin escaped from the Toronto Zoo and was found wandering towards the 401.” Laura said.

There was nothing then Mattie said, “Actually, that one’s fine as is. The public loves penguins.”

Laura let out a groan and then there was a plopping nose. Carmilla smiled, picturing her face first in the couch cushions. Face buried in the soft fabric and fist clenching and unclenching as she let out her frustration. Probably slowly shaking her head. Face skimming the suede.

Carmilla’s hand drifted up and stopped just before it reached her lips. She jerked it back down. Fingers drumming the cover of the book.

Laura had kissed her. Again.

Kissed her long and hard with what Carmilla suspected were tears in her eyes. Only to open them again and start babbling about stars. Still wrapped up in Carmilla’s arms as Mattie shot them the strangest look.

It had to be stars.

Always stars.

Promises made under stars.

Carmilla couldn’t help it. Keeping a careful ear out to ensure that Laura and Mattie were still bickering in the living room, she stood and crossed the room to the bookshelf. She pulled out a dog-eared copy of Camus. She stared at the book, caressing the cover. Carmilla actually had multiple copies of this version of the book, a necessity born of the fact that she hadn’t opened this particular version of the book since univeristy.

her first version. oldest version.

She flipped through the pages slower than necessary, stopping when it finally fell to the page it was waiting for. The page with a small bulge tucked beside a quote her eyes always skipped over as she read. Fingers slightly trembling, she grabbed the offending bulge.

A dried rose, still red as the day she bought it but flattened nearly paper thin.
Carmilla twirled the stem between her fingers.

She’d never meant to keep it. She’d bought the rose to give it away, an impulse buy to try and say everything she couldn’t come up with once the stars were gone. Only hours gone. The sun not even poked over the horizon. She meant to give it away.

But never had. Never gotten the chance because by the time she returned the sun was high in the sky and the stars were forgotten.

She lifted her hand, letting the dried petals rest against her lips.

Now Laura was talking about stars again.

“Carm?” Laura voiced called from the living room.

Carmilla let the rose fall back into the book, the gentle memory of its pressure on her lips mixing with her memories of Laura. She closed the book slowly, eyes catching the words she always skipped since she first left the rose there, “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”

Maybe. Just maybe.

Carmilla looked out the window and grabbed the box of cookies she’d hidden that morning before calling back, “Miss me already cupcake?”

After all, the stars were out.

Chapter Text

Carmilla stepped out from behind the podium, giving the assembled crowd one last wave and a smile before she stepped backstage. Her shoulders dropped the moment she was out of the public view, eyes flickering closed.

That had actually gone well.

But before she could exhale the breath that she’d been holding all day, her mother was on her, “A laudable performance Mircalla,” Mrs Karnstein said, “certainly a step above the lackluster presentation you usually give and nearly to the quality I’d expect of my glittering girl.”

“Thank you mother,” Carmilla said.

Her mother took her by the arm, whisking her forward, “Now you have a meet and greet session with our constituents. I’m sure that I don’t have to remind you of the importance of public perception relevant to your personality. Unlike ourselves, the average citizen is simply an easily swayed bauble relying on personal preference and unnecessary character traits rather than factual necessity.” Her mother’s nails bit into her arm, “Ensure that they see those traits. Put that face to good use for once.”

“Of course,” Carmilla said.

“After all,” her mother said, “With our imbecilic counterparts falling short in their own elections, you are the only viable party option to prevent a majority. Exactly as we intended. This is our moment darling. Don’t let me down.”

“Yes, mother,” Carmilla said.

Her mother continued to speak and Carmilla tried to pay attention even as her eyes searched the room. She knew that the words were important, that answering properly was important, that she should be following her mother’s words. But looking at Laura felt like more than important. It was a base need. Curling in her stomach and dragging her eyes across the room like there was no oxygen in her lungs unless she was looking at Laura.

Because Laura was beautiful.

So her attention drifted. Carmilla’s mouth formed the proper words as her mother spoke but her eyes were gone. Tracing her fiancee as Laura smiled at Perry and let out what had to be a giggle as they poured over some wedding book. Carmilla’s head was gone, stuck on watching Laura’s nose scrunch at whatever Mattie had added to the conversation.

Then her heart was gone. Caught in Laura’s gaze as their eyes met across the room and Carmilla’s shoulders softened. Even Laura’s eyes seemed to smile as they rolled over Carmilla, almost nothing of the watery-eyed girl who had danced across the snow with her.

Almost.

Just enough of something unnameable there that Carmilla’s long-lost heart jumped a little bit. Stars and roses dancing in her vision. Something that felt remarkably like ‘maybe’. She fought the urge to cross the room and drape herself over Laura’s back, to help with the wedding that would never happen.

But that still consumed her thoughts.

Laura had a glazed look in her eye, still fixed on Carmilla. So, without her mother noticing, Carmilla slowly waggled her fingers at Laura in the best interpretation of a wave that she could give.

Laura blushed, gave a small wave, and looked down.

Carmilla bit her lip, fighting the smile.

“Mircalla,” she didn’t have to fight long, the smile dropping immediately as her mother said her name. Shoulders stiffening again. The two women stopped, her mother coming around to stand in front of her. Close enough that Carmilla had to lift her chin to look up at her.

Her mother stared at her for a moment then reached out to straighten the collar of her blazer, “You did well today, darling.” Wherever it was, Carmilla’s heart swelled at the words, “Don’t succumb to your usual deficiencies in this area and I will be very happy.”

Carmilla’s eyes widened. She could actually do this. She might be able to. Make. Happy.

“Promise me you’ll make me proud today,” Her mother prompted.

“I promise,” Carmilla said.

Then she was out the door and into the crowd. A determined smile pasted across her face. She could do this. Mother on one side and Perry on the other.

For the first twenty minutes, she believed it. She shook hands and posed for pictures, answering every comment with a smile. But slowly they began to wear on her. The same inane questions over again.

Sweaty palms in her own.

#

Laura had strict instructions to stay exactly where she was and not interfere with the meet and greet. So she was trying exceedingly hard to keep her eyes focused on the wedding cake pamphlets in front of her. It should have been the easiest distraction ever, picture after picture of delectable chocolately things.

But Carmilla.

Her gaze was unwilling to stay on the cakes when Carmilla could be seen out the window. At first, Laura had looked up with a smile, watching as Carmilla shook hands while wearing a smile that almost looked real. However, as time had passed, Laura had watched her shoulders tighten and jaw clench. The smile growing less convincing as it stretched larger.

She believed in Carmilla’s campaign, she really did. When it came to policies and pushing things through and all the day to day stuff of government, Carmilla was amazing. But the people part? A little less so.

She could practically hear Carmilla’s interior monologue. Bemoaning same question again and no I don’t want to shake your hand this is a useless custom and your child frightens me so I’m going to look even more uncomfortable because I don’t know how to handle kids. I have nothing against them. They’re just odd.

The girl Laura could see through the window wasn’t the same girl who had danced her around a park in the snow. The one who smiled quietly and laughed carefully as though both actions didn’t tug on Laura’s insides and flip them all around. Her hands danced over the pages of the wedding book in front of her, as uncertain as the organ in her chest.

It had been days and still all she could see when she closed her eyes was Carmilla dancing just beyond her, snowflakes in her black hair and her warm hands on Laura’s waist. Laura’s hands stilled as the image washed over her again. Perhaps if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t have to leave the memory.

No matter how much she wanted to stay, her eyes fluttered open as a greater want pulled at her. Eyes bouncing back to Carmilla through the window.

Laura had heard Carmilla’s mother had asked for Carmilla to use her face multiple times to woo the crowd and Laura could never deny the appeal of impeccable bone structure.

But this was what happened when Carmilla used her face. It went blank, a tight smile stretched across it. Eyes dull. Laura watched, finger idly tracing over a cake topper, as Carmilla shook hands a little too quickly. Turned away too fast. Laughed too loudly and carried tension in her shoulders.

It was aesthetically pleasing.

Laura knew she could be beautiful.

Her breath caught at the new memories that flooded at the very word. The tiny hitch drew Mattie’s attention from where Carmilla’s sister was flipping through another cake book but Laura hardly noticed. Mind filled with pictures of Carmilla’s face so close to hers, illuminated by the glow of the laptop lying across their thighs. Carmilla flopped over her desk, just a simple intern and half asleep but still working on proofing the latest provincial bill proposal. Carmilla’s head in her lap, smiling that stupid smirk that meant Laura had done something dumb but with Carmilla’s eyes dancing Laura couldn’t bring herself to care.

Carmilla’s face as Laura moved towards her, seconds away from covering her lips with her own.

And her breath hitched again but for a whole different reason. Something like want dripping through her veins. Her hands clenched around the pages. Always Laura moving in, never Carmilla. She kept moving closer to Carmilla every time they were together like she couldn’t help it. Moving before her brain could even consider standing still.

No time to consider what she wanted. Just moving.

No idea what she wanted when she did take the time to think about. Just an aching chest and hitching breath and repeated mantras about only sexual attraction and memories of a best friend. But every time, when she stopped thinking, she moved.

Closer.

So she pushed against the image. Willing herself away from kisses and back to Carmilla with mud dripping down her face and Carmilla waiting up all night with her on Skype while Laura tried to hit a deadline and Carmilla tumbling off a plane just to see her at Christmas.

Safer memories yet somehow not safe at all. Nothing of the want reducing. If nothing else, the safe images making it grow.

Something tapped the center of her forehead.

“If you’re going to have a mental breakdown, I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after the wedding,” Mattie said, pulling her pen back from Laura’s face as her eyes fluttered open, “I’ve put far too much work into this event to have it not happen.” The pen dropped to tap Laura’s fists and Laura frowned, releasing the paper crumpled between her fingers.

Laura didn’t bother reminding Mattie that it was a fake wedding. For one reason or another, Mattie was incredibly committed to pretending this was actually going to happen. She probably just liked tormenting Laura with wedding colours and flowers and cakes.

“Sorry,” Laura sighed, “Just thinking.”

Mattie’s smile was wry, “I could see that darling. Looked as though you were about to combust from whatever silly fantasies were running through your head.”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t. No-one was.” Laura said, “I wasn’t fantasizing. I’m just tired. That’s it . Really tired, I mean this has been a lot of work and who wouldn’t be tired after everything. Plus like, emotionally draining and whatnot, that’s a completely normal reaction.”

“I’m sure Carmilla is keeping you up all night long,” Mattie said.

“Yeah,” Laura said, “she hasn’t been sleeping all that well and I’m kind of worried that there’s something really wrong because she’s been here but not really here, you know? And I just-”

Finally Laura noticed the smirk on Mattie’s face and made the connection between the look on Mattie’s face and her comment about ‘keeping Laura up’.

She really wished she had better control of her blush because Laura could practically feel the blood swoop up her face, “Very funny Mattie,” she hissed.

“Who said I was joking?” Mattie said. Regardless, she turned back to the book in her hands. Leaving Laura to work really hard not think about exactly what Mattie was implying. Nope. Not at all. Never crossed her mind.

In their big bed.

Carmilla’s big bed.

Especially compared to those single beds they’d had back in the dorm.

But she’d never thought about that.

Nope.

Her gaze drifted back out the window, sweeping over Carmilla. Laura’s face hardened to a frown the longer she watched that fake smile plastered across Carmilla’s face and before she had even thought the motion through, Laura was on her feet. Ignoring Mattie’s call to come back, Laura very calmly walked across the room, opened the door, and stepped out into the crowd.

No need to think it through.

Closer.

They parted for her as if by magic or more likely, because they recognized her face as the one who kissed their fearless leader.

Always the one jumping on Carm.

“Miss Hollis!” a voice called. Definitely the face thing. Too bad. She’d always wished for superpowers. Maybe super strength. Or superspeed. Or the ability to set things on fire with her eyes. Not that she’d ever use it, but her interviews would go so much faster if people didn’t dilly-dally. She briefly eyed her phone, face falling at the lack of notification light.

How long did it take a contact to dig into a bi-election?

Regardless, Laura smiled and waved. Stopping for pictures as she carried on through the crowd, slowly making her way towards Carmilla. A smile cracked across her face as she drew closer and saw Carmilla about to shake hands with a Dad with a little girl on his shoulders. The girl waved at Laura from over the crowd, a too large ‘KARNSTEIN’ hat nearly falling off her head.

The girl was kicking her legs in excitement against her father’s shoulders, practically buzzing as she babbled something at Carmilla.

Laura was about to take another step forward when someone grabbed her arm, she turned, expecting another request for a picture and hoping it wasn’t another member of the press looking for a candid. These days, they seemed to follow her everywhere. Instead, she came to face to face with Mrs. Karnstein.

“Miss Hollis,” Carmilla’s mother said, “I thought I informed you that you were required to stay away from the crowd.” Mrs. Karnstein’s lips were drawn in a tight smile, a smile eerily close to the one on Carmilla’s face.

“Well, yeah,” Laura said, ignoring the slight tinge of nail biting into her arm, “But I’m sure you know as well as I do that crowds aren’t exactly Carm’s forte. I mean, she’s still amazing but the whole one-on-one thing is tricky for her. We can’t all be good at everything. So I figured I’d come out and help. That’s how we used to do it. Tag team.”

The tight smiled remained, “While we appreciate your enthusiasm, I assure you that Carmilla does not require your assistance. Go back to the room. Plan your little wedding as Matska seems to be over-indulging in the task. You’re not required here. Mircalla doesn’t require your presence.”

Laura looked over at Carmilla. Her finacee’s smile was still in place and she moved with a natural fluidity that always screamed of elegance. But even with just her back facing Laura, it was clear her shoulders were tighter than they should be, the near-regal straightness too forced. Carmilla’s breathing so shallow that Laura’s wasn’t sure she was getting oxygen at all.

She didn’t even have to think about it.

Closer.

“Yeah, no.” Laura said, “I think she does. If she wants me to leave. Carmilla can tell me herself. She’s her own person and all.”Something like rage flitted across Mrs Karnstein’s face and Laura quickly looked away. But she didn’t stop talking, “Besides, i need a break and all. It’ll be great. Don’t worry. Carm and I totally got this.” She flashed Mrs Karnstein a smile without looking at her face. Using a move that she’d practiced in Krav Maga, Laura slipped from the iron grip on her arm and bounced up to Carmilla’s side just as the father and daughter reached Carmilla.

Closer.

It only took one look at Carmilla’s face, that tight smile and dead eyes, for Laura’s mouth to start working, “Hey guys!” She said, grinning up at the little girl but not missing the way Carmilla jumped at Laura’s presence, “Thanks for coming out today! I love that hat. Carm, I didn’t even know we sold those. I’ve just got to get one.”

She could feel Carmilla staring at her. Her mother doing the same but significantly more hostile about it.

“You’re Laura Hollis!” the little girl shouted, “you’re marrying Miss Karnstein.”

“Sure am,” Laura said, ignoring the small ache produced by the words. Images of willow trees and engagement cupcakes whirling through her head. The little girl kept grinning down at them. Laura elbowed Carmilla in the side

“Pleasure to meet you,” Carmilla said at last, shaking the father’s hand, “We appreciate your support.”

“Miss Karnstein,” he repeated, “Don’t suppose you could take a picture with my beautiful girl. She’s quite the fan.”

Carmilla’s nod was short, “Of course.”

The girl squealed and kicked her father’s shoulders asking to be lifted off.

With a moment between the little girl getting to the ground, Laura finally met Carmilla’s eyes. Then they bounced just beyond her shoulder before returning again and something almost like fear flickered in the brown. Something that reminded Laura of nights made of thunderstorms. Something that made Laura want to do everything in her power to erase. Laura gave her a small smile and for a moment, Carmilla’s face softened as she returned the smile.

But her eyes. Still hurt.

Without thinking, Laura took a step closer. Then stopped, almost tripping over the little girl before stepping back again. It wasn’t her picture.

But rather than push her away, the little girl reached out and grabbed Laura’s hand to pull her in, ”You’re gonna be in the picture too,” she said, “Cause you make smiles better. My name is Marcie and I watched all of Miss Karnstein’s speeches and I saw that you’re going to marry her and you make Miss Karnstein smile the most because sometimes she looks sad. She’s still my favourite because she’s awesome but I like that you make her smile so you’re my other favourite. And you’re very pretty.”

Laura almost choked on the smile that burst across her face; she crouched down and said, “Well, thank you Marcie. It’s not every day a beautiful girl tells me I’m pretty.”

For a moment a frown flashed across Marcie’s face then she whirled towards Carmilla, hands on hips, “Why don’t you tell Miss Laura she’s pretty?” Marcie asked, “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you love somebody.”

Carmilla’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again as she staring down at the tiny, angry child.

The giggle tumbled out of Laura’s mouth and Carmilla’s gaze flew up. After a moment, a small smirk popped across her face, the most genuine thing Laura had seen all day, “Well,” Carmilla said, “Miss Laura doesn’t tell me that I’m pretty either.”

Laura rolled her eyes. Carmilla was well aware that she was gorgeous. She huffed and all she got from Carmilla was a wink in return.

And a tiny child now glaring at her, “Why don’t you tell Miss Karnstein she’s pretty?” Marcie demanded.

“I’m worried about her ego,” Laura said, giving Carmilla the wink right back, “Might swell her head so big that it bursts and then you’d be without a candidate. Oh course, then that would also solve my cookie problem. This one,” she said to Marcie, “keeps taking all of my cookies away and hiding them because she thinks I eat too many. If she was gone, I could eat as many as I wanted.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “No-one should eat that many cookies a day.”

“See!” Laura threw her hands up dramatically as Marcie giggled, “It’s cookie thievery I tell you. Gotta call the sheriff and throw her in jail.”

“Glad to see I’d be missed, cupcake” Carmilla said but her shoulders loosened and the small smile grew on her face.

“Course I’d miss you,” Laura said. Her brow wrinkling slightly as Carmilla’s hands seemed to pause mid-air before finding their way to Marcie’s shoulders. Laura continued, “your apartment is freezing. I don’t know how you sleep in that bed alone, it’s so cold. You’re my heat source. So of course I’d miss you but I’d have my cookies. I would be a close call but I’d probably still pick you. Maybe run an experiment to look at pros and cons. I’m sure Laf could whip something up.”

She finally looked back at Carmilla just as a wicked expression crossed Carm’s face, “You should have told me you were cold,” Carmilla practically purred the words, “I can think of all kinds of way to warm you up.”

Laura froze, feeling all the heat rush to her face.

The sparkle danced back into Carmilla’s eyes, “More blankets, cupcake,” she said, “I could get you more blankets.” Then she leaned closer, “Although I’d love to know what thoughts went tumbling through your head to turn you that lovely shade of red.”

“Pictures!” Laura practically shouted, “You wanted pictures.”

She dropped to her knees beside Marcie fast enough for the jolt to rebound through her spine.

Carmilla slowly crouched beside her, “I don’t know why we’re kneeling cupcake. You’re so short. It hardly seems necessary.” She reached out and adjusted Marcie’s ‘Karnstein hat’ as Laura huffed, trying to cover how cute that was. “Why, Marcie here is practically taller than you are.” Carmilla finished.

Marcie giggled.

“It’s the hat,” Laura said, talking around her smile as Marcie’s father took a photo of the three of them, “makes her look taller. And you’re only like an inch taller than I am.” The flash went off again. Then without warning Marcie whirled and plunked the bright KARNSTEIN hat onto Laura’s head, the brim falling in Laura’s eyes.

“Daddy,” Marcie said, “get one of Miss Karnstien and Laura.”

“Would you mind?” her father asked.

“Course not,” Laura said. Without thinking it through, she moved closer to Carmilla. Her body sinking into Carmilla’s side as she adjusted the hat on her head and giving Carmilla a wide grin. Getting a real smile in return as Carmilla’s arm snuck around her waist.

“You’re beautiful,” the words tumbled from Laura’s lips. No thought involved.

Carmilla’s eyes locked on hers, “So are you.”

And finally, Laura felt Carmilla breathe. Chest rising and falling against her side as though she hadn’t gotten a deep breath all day.

Then Carmilla’s arms tugged her in as they posed for the photo.

Closer.

#

This strategy seemed to work well for Laura, she just stopped letting anyone put any significant amount of distance between herself and Carmilla. Stopped thinking about anything and just moved. Despite the icy glare she could feel on her shoulders, Laura stayed firmly by Carmilla’s side for the rest of the meet and greet. She posed for pictures and let her arm brush against Carmilla’s. She got attacked by children wanting hugs and let herself stumble backwards under their weight, knowing Carmilla’s hand on her waist would keep her upright. She shook hundreds of hands, safe in the knowledge that every moment in between her fingers could be tangled with Carmilla’s.

The people seemed happy to see her, Mattie’s smile was practically as brilliant as it was mischievous, and Carmilla seemed infinitely more relaxed. A loose smile on her face more often than the tight one.

That would have been enough alone to keep Laura glued to her side.

Mrs. Karnstein would just have to chill.

So maybe it put a small wrench into her ‘uncover political bi-election cover ups’ plan but that would still be there tomorrow. It was all about getting the stress off Carmilla anyway and for now, this proximity thing seemed to be working better.

Who didn’t feel better when their best friend was around? Laura always did. Heart rate slowing down and speeding up when Carmilla was at her side. Only made sense that Carmilla felt the same way.

Because they were best friends.

Only best friends.

The kisses were totally just a sexual energy thing. It wouldn’t matter who she was kissing, just that she was. That was definitely it.

So it was perfectly safe to press a small kiss to the side of Carmilla’s mouth as they climbed into the limo after the meet and greet. Laura’s hand still tangled in Carmilla’s as the crowd waved them off. If the action kept her in Carmilla’s car with the Karnsteins instead of in the second car with Perry and Mattie.

All the better.

#

So in the afternoon, Laura managed to ignore Mrs. Karnstein’s gaze and just stopped thinking about it. She tucked her hand in the crick of Carmilla’s arm and followed her through the crowded party of political figures. Smiling her biggest smile, Laura hobnobbed her way through the event and refused to let it fade even when Elsie Gale herself somehow ended up in front of them.

Flirting with Carmilla.

Right in front of her.

One of the women who’d actually been on Carmilla’s mother ‘approved financee’ list. Unlike Laura. With her stupid blonde hair and fake smile and apparently perfect list of qualifications.

Laura wanted to sic a parrot on her. Make up for last time.

But she didn’t say a word, smile still in place. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carmilla’s gaze land on her but Laura didn’t look back. Attention on Elsie. Until Carmilla’s free hand came up and resting on the hand Laura had tucked in the crook of Carmilla’s arm and Carmilla’s soft fingers slowly caressed her hand.

The smile came out a little more genuine.

And a touch superior as Elsie huffed away.

And then a tad nervous as she was left with just Carmilla in front of her, her arm dropping to come around Laura’s waist and pull her closer. Just for a moment, Carmilla’s real smile cut across her face and Laura couldn’t help but inhale.

Letting Carmilla pull her in closer.

Beautiful.

#

The evening came and they were whisked off to cocktails with a series of business bigwigs. Mrs. Karnstein remarking offhandedly that if she’d known Laura was interested in attending then she would have ensured that there was appropriate attire. Unfortunately there wasn’t and she’d be happy to have a car escort Laura back to the apartment.

Until Mattie pulled a blood red dress the exact shade of Carmilla’s bow tie from who knows where. That happened to fit perfectly.

So cocktails.

An evening spent attached at the hip before being whisked back to the apartment and falling asleep on the couch as Carmilla insisted on going over her notes for the next day again. Laura refusing to go to bed until she did.

Waking up with a disheveled Carmilla draped across her body and fabric of a blood red bow tie in her fist.

The next day brought photo ops. Laura forced to look on as Carmilla was positioned in various places across the city, her mother and the photographer trying to manipulate her into ‘casual’ and ‘carefree’ poses.

If Laura was being honest, Carmilla just looked a little constipated.

But she’d been sent away, supposed to enjoy her ‘free time’. So she called Laf and the two of them camped out on a coffee shop patio. Conveniently located mere meters from Carmilla’s most recent portion of the shoot. The constipated comment had Laf snorting into their coffee and spraying foam across their face, which gave Laura a bad case of the giggles.

She barely registered how fast the camera started snapping as Laura tried to control her smile, clicks speeding through the air.

Instead, words tumbled from her mouth, “How do you know you’re in love?”

Laf wiped their foam beard off and raised an eyebrow, “Something to tell me, Hollis? Last I checked, you were engaged.” They grabbed Laura’s hand and pretended to examine the ring, “Ah yes. How could you miss the shiny new rock?”

Laura rolled her eyes and snatched her hand back, “Just answer the question,” Laura said, “last I checked you were the one who was married. Isn’t that, like a thing, passing on wisdom?”

Laf stared at her for a moment, then said, “How do you know you’re in love?” They tapped the edge of their coffee, “When you couldn’t imagine being around anyone else, I guess. I look at Perry and it feels like home, you know? It doesn’t matter we’re doing, I just want to be together or if we’re not together, to tell her about it. The adenine to my thyamaine. Wait no.” Laf frowned, “Because uracil. Scratch that. The cytosine to my guanine.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Laura said.

“Because you’re a ribose sugar,” Laf said, waving a hand, “don’t worry, Carmilla’s totally a phosphate.”

Laura fought the urge to plunk her head on the table, “this is so not helping.”

“Like you think you’re fine with just an alcohol group,” Laf continued, ignoring Laura’s distress, “but then you find your phosphate and you’re like ‘Whoa, so much better’.”

Laura hit her head on the table again, “what?”

“You know you’re in love when the energy’s there,” Laf said, “when anyone else attaching to you just isn’t as good. Way less potential energy. You can snap together with the wrong person but when you’re in love, there’s just so much more there.” Laura’s head came up as Laf continued, “It can be tough and still kind of chaotic because there’s all that energy, but it’s the right structure. You’ve just got to eliminate all the other options to find the bond that, if it breaks, feels like an energy explosion.”

Laura paused, trying to wrap her head around the metaphor, “That,” Laura said, “Actually wasn’t bad. An extended and unnecessary metaphor but not terrible.”

“Find your phosphate, avoid the alcohol groups, find your bond.” Laf said, grinning, “I should write love poems. Think Perr would like it?”

Laura snorted.

“Speaking of alcohol groups,” Laf forged ahead, “Danny’s coming back this week right? It’s basically all Kirsch has been talking about.”

Before Laura could answer, there was a very large camera in her face. With the amount of press following her around, she instinctively recoiled.

“Sorry,” Carmilla’s professional photographer said, shifting the camera, “but you’re Miss Karnstein’s financee, right?”

“Yeah?” Laura said.

“Great,” he grabbed her by the hand and tugged her away from Laf who just waved and stole her hot chocolate, “I only got a couple of decent shots of her and I’m working a hunch here.” He shoved her towards a lady with an extremely large wardrobe behind her, “ten minutes, darling.”

Which is how Laura found herself back in Carmilla’s arms with a photographer hovering around them. The only instructions, “Look at each other.”

Carmilla’s arms closed around her waist, chin on her shoulder, “Having fun with Ginger One, cupcake?”

“Extended science metaphors,” Laura said, “I don’t suppose you know anything about ribose sugars and phosphate groups?”

“You’re as sugary as I get,” Carmilla said.

Laura scrunched her nose as Carmilla softly booped it, then captured the offending hand in her own and twined their fingers together,“Well, aren’t you sappy today.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “I’m hardly saccharin.”

“Please.” Laura said, “You’re the definition of sappy.”

“I don’t do sugar,” Carmilla said.

The words were flying off Laura’s tongue before she could think them, “But you do me.”

Carmilla’s arms tightened around her as Laura’s words hit them both, the involuntary muscle spasm matching Laura’s sharp intake of breath. She shot her eyes to her feet and immediately started talking, “By which I mean that, you’re super sappy to me. Nothing else. Just sugary and sappy to me because you like bought me a whole store’s worth of cupcakes when we got engaged and you smile that one smile that only I get to see or you’ll stay up with me until 2am and that’s really all I meant. Because what else could I mean. I mean, it’s not like there’s anything else that anyone remembers.”

If it had been possible for her face to go redder, it would have. Laura’s eyes widened. Why would she bring that up. The words flew out even faster, “Nope. No way. Just talking about this whole engagement thing. Nothing else. Cause you’re just so sappy, I mean, how could that not be what I meant. Nothing else.Nothing ever happened and you’re just a total sap ball and no-one is doing anyone. It’s just that you do things like buy me roses and talk to Sir Bearington the Third when you think I can’t see and...”

Her eyes lifted to Carmilla’s face just in time to see her flinch when Laura said the word roses.

That flinch.

Laura’s words fell off. Brain racing.

That flinch.

Made no sense.

So Laura’s hand came up, fingers reaching to smooth away the frown on Carmilla’s face, “Carm?” she said. Her fingers ghosting over soft skin until the wrinkles disappeared.

“Maybe,” Carmilla said at last, “maybe, I could do sugar.”

Carmilla’s eyes swept her own and Laura didn’t know what to make of them. Didn’t know what to make of any of it. The flinch on Carmilla’s face that spoke of regret. The clasp of her hand that pulled Laura closer when they were already nearly as close as they could possibly get. The sweep of her eyes that glinted with something that looked like hope.

Laura didn’t know what to do with any of it.

“I could be sugar,” she whispered. Up on her tip tops before she could think it through.

Closer.

Her lips grazing the edge of Carmilla’s as she formed the words. Not quite a kiss but almost there. So close but not quite close enough all at the same time.

It was all new.

And yet not.

It felt like an explosion waiting to happen.

And yet calm.

For the first time, Laura could actually feel Carmilla’s smile as Carmilla said, “You’ve always been sugar, cupcake.”

A series of clicks later and the photographer proclaimed them beautiful. Looking at Carmilla’s face, Laura couldn’t disagree.

If only she knew a little more about the difference between phosphate and alcohol.

#

So Laura ended up in every shot with Carmilla as they were carted around the city. Fingers tangled together by the semi-frozen Rideau canal. Leaning over Carmilla’s shoulders with the eternal flame in the foreground. A soft kiss on the cheek in front of the parliament houses.

Mrs. Karnstein’s glare couldn’t stop the photographer.

Even when Carmilla’s mother insisted on a few solitary shots of Carmilla, the man wouldn’t let her leave. He simply positioned the camera just over her shoulder. Half of the photos had Laura’s hands flailing in the frame as she spoke.

But they were all constipation face free.

They broke for lunch and Laura was whisked back to wardrobe, finding Mattie lurking in the depths of the closet and handing her a fresh blazer. No explanations give. Just an eye roll and another wedding book shoved into her hands.

Flowers. Again.

When Laura came back out, the Carmilla she’d left wasn’t the Carmilla she’d found. Mrs Karnstein and Carmilla were huddled in a corner, for all appearances just a normal mother and daughter chat. But Laura’s blood boiled.

Carmilla’s head was down. Hands folded in front of her as her face stayed blank and bare. Shoulders tensed as her mother spoke and eyes locked firmly on the ground in front of her.

“Of course mother,” Carmilla said, “I’ll perform better next time.”

“As much as I’d like to believe that you hold the capacity to actually met our requirements for once Mircalla, I’m having trouble believing it.” Mrs Karnstein said, “Your continual reliance on the unnecessary is positively plebeian and is severely undercutting our perception in the public eye. Do you understand how weak that could make me look? That simply cannot stand. I’ve been extremely considerate in overlooking your flaws but the repercussions are only growing and I cannot be constantly picking up your slack.”

No time to think.

Closer.

Laura swept into the conversation, “Slack?” she fought the urge to slam the incredibly heavy wedding book onto the table for emphasis, “What slack? Carm’s done an amazing job. The people love her and she’s up in the polls and yeah she’s had a couple of setbacks but that was weeks ago.”

Mrs Karnstein turned before Laura could make it all the way to Carmilla, cutting between the two women, “Miss Hollis,” she said, “must we always have the same conversation.”

“Apparently,” Laura said, “Since you can’t quite seem to get how great Carm is.”

Mrs Karnstein’s smile was the scary kind, “Really? “Carm’ has done great? Tell me, which of us has vast experience in the political realm and understanding voters and which of us writes petty articles for a dying industry?”

Laura clenched the spine of the book. Mattie should not have given her weaponry.

“Trust me, Miss Hollis,” Carmilla’s mother continued, “I won’t tell you how to write your articles and you don’t need to tell me how to run a campaign or handle my daughter.”

“She’s my fiancee.” Laura said.

Carmilla’s mother’s laugh was practically a slap in the face. The fact that Carmilla wouldn’t meet her eyes was even worse, like a cannonball had been dropped on her.

“Don’t delude yourself,” Mrs Karnstein said, “I recognize that journalists can have trouble distinguishing reality from fiction but please do not trick yourself into believing that which can never be. You do, in fact, recall the terms of our arrangement?”

She paused as though giving Laura a chance to speak.

There was nothing Laura could say. Her eyes were on Carmilla, begging her to look up. For the briefest second, there was eye contact, but then Carmilla’s mother was speaking again and Carmilla’s eyes dropped. “You agreed to help Mircalla with her campaign and frankly, you’ve hardly upheld your end. Constantly inserting yourself into situations far beyond your ability. Mircalla is simply too soft-hearted to tell you that you’re getting in the way.”

Laura wasn’t even looking at Mrs Karnstein any more, eyes stuck on Carmilla. Looking for anything. But there was nothing. No refute. No saying that Carmilla wanted her presence. That she was doing any good. That Carmilla felt the same pull to be close or actually found her beautiful for anything more than the cameras.

Her eyes stayed locked on Carmilla, begging for anything.

Body thrumming to step closer. To step back into Carmilla’s arms where she didn’t have to think.

But Carmilla didn’t look up and Mrs. Karnstein was in the way.

“I was trying to help,” Laura said softly.

“And we appreciate the intent behind the effort,” Mrs Karnstein’s smile was tight, “but the truth of the matter is that your efforts to assist have fallen woefully short and have, perhaps, even endangered Mircalla’s already tumultuous campaign further. Your continual insistence on inserting yourself into situations for which you have no actual experience prove to be a detriment as you are a distraction to our work.”

Laura forced her chin up, “I’m not a distraction.”

“No?” Carmilla mother said, “You don’t think constantly being at Mircalla side and deviating from our carefully planned scripts is at all a distraction? Why, just last evening Mircalla failed to even discuss campaign funding with the senator, never mind secure it, simply because you were insistent on discussing that little show of yours.”

“The senator loves Doctor Who too!” Laura said, “he totally loved us. And again, you can’t just say mean things to people. It’s really rude.” Her eyes darted back to Carmilla. Nothing.

“But Mircalla failed her objective,” Mrs Karnstein repeated, “not unsurprising given her record but only exasperated by your presence. It’s why I objected to this little charade in the first place before my hand was utterly forced by Mircalla’s selfish choices. Now, Miss Hollis, if you wouldn’t mind we have rather serious work to do this afternoon, please run along. I’ll inform you if your presence is required.”

Laura took a step back but her mouth still worked faster than her brain, “Only if Carm wants me to go. ”

Another step back as silence filled the air. All the subtle little movements that made up Carmilla were impossibly still. Laura’s brain racing.

Farther.

“I assure you,” Mrs Karnstein said, “Mircalla is better on her own. She has no desire for you to stay.”

“Carm?” Laura repeated. Hating the shake in her throat.

Carmilla’s mother sounded bored, “Please leave Miss Hollis.”

So with one last look at Carmilla, Laura turned away. Breath caught in her chest and something that felt a lot like breaking beneath it. But still she turned. Because she was just the best friend and maybe Carmilla didn’t want to be close like Laura did and maybe her veins didn’t burn and maybe Laura wasn’t a ribose sugar or Carmilla wasn’t a phosphate and frankly Laura just really wanted her teddy bear because everything hurt when it shouldn’t.

Then she was going to come back and yell at Mrs Karnstein for being mean to Carmilla.

But first, teddy bears. Carmilla didn’t want her here. That was okay. Really. It was. They were just best friends and maybe Mrs Karnstein was right and she’d just gotten caught up in the fairytale of it all and it’s not like she had actual feelings for Carmilla or anything because just no and Carmilla definitely didn’t have feelings for her and stupid college nights were long gone and roses and cupcakes didn’t mean anything.

So what she really needed was her heroic teddy bear Sir Bearington the Third because she was an adult and there was no-one else here to give her hugs.

Because Carmilla didn’t want her here.

Teddy bears were better anyway.

“Stay,” the softest voice in the silence was the loudest.

Laura whirled, faster than she should have but unable to deny the impulse. She spun back towards Carmilla as though the motion could force everything she was feeling back down to her core.

“What?” Carmilla’s mother snapped, “Miss Hollis will most certainly not be staying.”

No other words came out. Laura just watched, her arms tight around her own torso as she held herself together and just watched Carmilla. The girl who was so still and so silent that Laura wasn’t sure she’d spoken at all. Only Mrs. Karnstein’s comment keeping Laura from believing it was only wishful thinking.

Carmilla hadn’t moved while Laura argued with her mother. While Laura asked her to ask her to stay. While Laura turned away. While Laura turned back. Carmilla hadn’t moved. Carmilla’s head was down, her shoulders tight, and her eyes never met Laura’s as she stood completely still. Nearly posed on her tip toes.

But never seeming farther away.

All of the little movements like the rustle of a book page or the soft hum of a song that defined Carmilla extinguished.

Mrs Karnstien standing between them as the glare of her gaze more than made up for the aversion of Carmilla’s eyes. They drove Laura another step back.

Farther.

But this time she refused to turn away, taking the step backwards without looking where she was going. Instead, Laura stayed focused on Carmilla and tried to see whatever she could of her best friend from around Mrs Karnstien. Wishing that somehow Laura could drag Carmilla’s eyes to her own, Laura simply watched.

She almost missed it at first. There was a tremor in Carmilla’s left hand, the ringless hand, a slight shaking in the hand closest to Laura. Twitching. Uncertain.

Laura’s breath held with every twitch of the muscle.

Slowly, the hand extended. No further words spoken and the rest of Carmilla was still. Shoulders tenser than Laura had ever seen them when Carmilla’s hand almost brushed against Mrs Karnstine on it’s path.

But the two never met.

Instead Carmilla’s hand slipped past her mother and, still trembling, flipped over to extend towards Laura. Pale, smooth skin of Carmilla’s open palm pointing up. Waiting. No other action, movement, or words from Carmilla.

Just a hand.

Snaking past a woman with Carmilla’s face but not her eyes and shaking as it hung in the emptiness.

#

Carmilla could feel her hand shake as she held it out. Every nerve screaming for her to pull it back tight to her chest before her Mother saw, before her Mother did something, before her movement betrayed her.

But she couldn’t.

She didn’t know how to move. She didn’t know how to breath. Every moment felt like she was dragging herself through darkness as anger and fire and night raged around her, pushing down until her lungs were filled with stones and there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to move. Trembles wracking through her even though she knew she was perfectly still.

Always still. She practiced.

Except the hand. Because she’d moved it.

Because she had to.

Because Laura was going to walk away and Carmilla couldn’t see her because she couldn’t move but she didn’t need to because she could practically feel the distance. Feel the hurt roll off Laura. Feel her get farther.

And she couldn’t have that.

Because Laura felt more necessary than not trembling. Laura felt like the only thing that could maybe stop the trembling. Even if she caused the trembling. It was both.

Mother would be so angry.

Her hand shook. Couldn’t even look up. Couldn’t watch Laura walk away.

But she didn’t pull it back.

Stay. Please Stay. She wanted to scream it. Shout it over crowds of admirers. Cry it through her nightmares and whisper it against soft skin. Say it again and again to fill the empty air around them as Laura turned to walk away.

To say more than just stay.

Stay.

But Mother would be even more angry.

So just a hand. Words true but frozen on her tongue.

Stay. Please Stay. You’re beautiful. I love you. Stay.

Just a trembling hand jutting out past her mother

To Laura.

Just a hand.

And Laura took it.

Soft skin sliding against Carmilla’s palm.

Stay. Please stay. You’re beautiful.

And when Carmilla couldn’t find it in her frozen muscles to walk past her mother to follow Laura’s hand. It was Laura who stepped. She stepped closer. Hands tangled as she moved into Carmilla side, brushing past Carmilla’s mother. Closer.

More than just a hand pressed together as Carmilla’s stillness broke.

As her mother stomped away to tomorrow’s repercussions.

Carmilla’s stillness broke into a hundred different trembles.

And Carmilla knew. Despite the words still frozen on her tongue.

Stay. Please stay. You’re beautiful. Stay.

Just a hand.

Taken freely.

Carmilla knew what she’d say to Laura. Hands tangled.

I love you.

Chapter Text

She was in love with Laura Hollis.

Who made her smile.

Carmilla couldn’t help it, she lowered the edge of her campaign notes just a little farther to watch as Laura bounced around the kitchen. A smile growing on her face every time Laura passed by the bedroom doorway and Carmilla caught a view of her. Laura was completely ensconced in a too-large TARDIS onesie that she was barely managing not to trip over as she danced shamelessly to bad pop music.

A decade hadn’t managed to improve Laura’s tastes. Carmilla had been treated to the same sight nearly ten years ago mere weeks after she’d had a tiny journalist roommate foisted on her by the administration. It had continued ever since.

The only difference being that younger Laura had a study guide in her hand and this Laura appeared to have a notebook. Probably something for her ‘super awesome webseries’ to ‘crack corruption wide open’.

Unaware that Carmilla was in love with her.

Carmilla tapped her pen against her notebook, to be fair, it was a new development. Barely 28.5 hours old. That was hardly any time at all. Hardly enough for Carmilla herself to process it. Something so new. So revolutionary should take days. Weeks. Maybe months to consider before it settled comfortable.

And yet there is was, nestled quite happily in her chest.

Like it wasn’t revolutionary at all.

Carmilla’s smile broadened as Laura slid by the door again, air-guitaring as she went. Same as she always did. Giving up, Carmilla dropped her notebook on the nighttable and leaned against the back of the bed, Sir Bearington the Third on the pillow beside her. Next would come the Laura Hollis ‘ Epic Finale of Finishing’ where Laura would most likely get a little too over-eager with her sprinkler-esque dance moves and fall on her face.

Same as always.

She couldn’t pinpoint a change. In anything.

Carmilla closed her eyes, seeing a hundred versions of Laura fly past her doorway clad in too-large TARDIS onesies and tried to find the moment. Tried to find exactly when she’d fallen in love with Laura Hollis. She could find the moment when she realized she loved her best friend, a trembling hand held out as Laura almost walked away, but the moment of the falling…

That was elusive.

There was a thud from the kitchen and Carmilla’s smile grew, “Cupcake?” she called, eyes still closed.

“I’m okay!” Laura yelled back, “Just tripped.”

Same as always.

Moments later, Laura came bounding through the bedroom door, hair askew and face red as the onesie overwhelmed her. She shoved a TARDIS mug into Carmilla’s hands before clambering onto the other side of the bed and flopping against the pillows with her own mug.

Carmilla took a sip from the mug. Laura’s favourite. That Carmilla was under pain of death not to use. She looked over at Laura and raised an eyebrow, head inclined towards the mug.

Laura just smiled, shrugged, and took a big sip from her own mug. A chocolate mustache left behind on her upper lip.

Swallowing hard, Carmilla reached for her notes again and buried herself in election points and campaign slogans. Every sip of the hot chocolate dragging her mind back to the girl curled up beside her, making small humming novels as she plowed through a novel.

With chocolate on her lips.

Carmilla enjoyed chocolate.

And with that thought she’d bury herself in her notes all over again. Again and again until the mug was empty. There was nothing like a good dose of mother’s rhetoric to remind her of the reality of it all. She was in love with Laura Hollis, possibly always had been, but Laura Hollis was not in love with her. Chocolate covered lips were to be ignored.

She wasn’t losing her best friend.

She’d fought too hard to keep her.

Carmilla’s eyes darted to the phone she’d thrown across the room. The black device sat on the far dresser, pulsing notification light reminding her of the unanswered calls sitting in her voicemail. She’d only managed to get through the first.

The paper made a rasping noise as they slid against each other, shaking as Carmilla tried to steady her grasp. Deep breathes in and out as she forced her teeth to unclench, eyes locked on her trembling fingers.

A smaller hand sliding over hers. Soft and smooth and familiar.

Laura tugged gently on her wrist and Carmilla let her hand slide away from the notes to fall between them. She looked over and lost all sense of her breathing pattern when big, brown sleepy eyes looked back at her.

“Bed, Carm,” Laura said.

Thumb softly rubbing circles on Carmilla’s hand.

Carmilla tried, she really did, “I’ve got to review these notes before the next debate, cupcake. I’m already losing time what with your manipulation of my social calendar and it’s important that I present my best face after-”

Laura tugged again, bringing their entwined fingers to rest on her stomach, “You already know it. Just relax. Bed.”

Five minutes later the lights were out, heads were on pillows, and Carmilla’s hand was still captured by a tardis-clad sleepy Laura Hollis. The only light in the room the pulsing blue notification of her phone.

Every breath held and dragged out by the flicker of that light.

Until Laura tugged and dragged Carmilla forward so that she was draped over Laura’s back. So that every breath Carmilla took smelled chocolate. Carmilla froze for just a moment then melted inward, letting her hand, their hands, drift down to pull Laura even closer.

She felt Laura sigh against her, falling into dreams.

Carmilla smiled and tumbled after her.

#

She was in love with Laura Hollis.

Who felt like home.

Except sometimes Carmilla forgot because everything had gone dark and words that she couldn’t make sentences out of were swimming in her ears yet their intent still rang clear. Dreams that weren’t dreams. There was anger everywhere and it was bashing and smashing and striking and it was nowhere but everywhere and she knew that it was coming for her. She didn’t feel the anger, didn’t hear the words, but she knew it was coming.

Knew it was her fault. All her fault.

And Laura’s fault? Did someone say it was...

No. No. No. Never Laura’s fault. Just her fault. Her fault. It was coming. She couldn’t see anything but flashes of light that were both white and tinged with blue and it was coming. Dark and angry and loud and even the gods were mad. She deserved it. She messed up. She could be better.

She should be thankful.

But there was only fear. Because her voice was stuck and her hands were tied even though there was nothing around them and the flashes were coming and she couldn’t see anything but she just knew. Knew. Knew. Failure and never good enough and it would be so so so loud. Loud. Loud.

She didn’t wake up screaming.

For once. This wasn’t that kind of dream because when she jolted herself from sleep the room was silent. No storms out the window. Not curled around Laura any longer. Carmilla’s hands clasped at her knees in the smallest ball she could make. There was nothing loud outside the window and the flashes were gone.

But it wasn’t perfectly silent either.

It smelled like chocolate.

Carmilla dragged her eyes into focus and the first thing they landed on were Laura’s big, brown eyes. Sleep gone and replaced with water that shimmered in the vague light of the moon to slip down cheeks. Laura sniffled and her nose scrunched. Her eyes searched Carmilla’s own but the rest of Laura was uncommonly still, frozen as they stared across a shared pillow.

Not touching. Far away.

“Laura,” Carmilla said.

The word seemed to thaw Laura and a hand darted out immediately to rest on Carmilla’s cheek. Stroking softly to dislodge the track of tears that Carmilla hadn’t even realized were there.

A matching set.

She couldn’t help but melt into the touch, nuzzling against Laura’s knuckles as they stroked her cheek and grounded her in somewhere that wasn’t dark. Her fault. Never Laura’s. Not when there were stars in the sky and no sound but sniffling and all Carmilla wanted to do was hide.

“Another nightmare?” Laura whispered.

Carmilla’s nod was small.

Laura couldn’t remove nightmares but that didn’t mean Carmilla wasn’t hoping she’d try.

Always with a battle to wage was Laura Hollis.

The zipper of Laura’s onesie had fallen open and Carmilla couldn’t help but slide her hand between the fabric of the onesie and the baggy t-shirt underneath. Getting as close as she dared.

Laura dared more. Always had.

Shifting and tugging, Laura moved them further. Pulling at Carmilla until they were both wrapped up in the same onesie, so large that Laura could zip it up behind Carmilla back. Flipping so Carmilla was nestled on top of Laura. Legs together. Laura’s around around her back. Carmilla’s held on her chest.

Squished in a giant nerdy onesie that smelled like chocolate and was warm, Carmilla could finally breathe. Laura planted a light kiss on the top of her head. Hiding her away. So Carmilla could fall asleep once again.

Home.

#

She was in love with Laura Hollis.

Who was a total dork.

Carmilla slouched into the plush chair of the shop, watching as Mattie and Perry argued with each other over whether she should be married wearing a charcoal or an onyx suit. Occasionally deviating into a secondary argument about the appropriate cuff width and shooting her glances when they thought she wasn’t watching. They’d started out asking Carmilla for her opinion but she’d taken one look at the suits and simply snarled.

Her preferences really didn’t matter. All things considered. This wasn’t what she’d ever imagined.

Will was slouched beside her, absorbed in his phone.

Laura had appeared only once before she disappeared again, giving an exclamation that, “They have novelty ties here, Carm!” There was a bright blue tied covered in snowflakes wrapped around Laura’s neck like scarf instead of an actual tie and for the first time since being forced to leave the TARDIS onesie that morning, Carmilla smiled.

Laura had shoved a black tie covered in tiny silver stars into Carmilla’s hands, a grin on her face when she insisted that Carmilla at least try it on with whatever Perry and Mattie picked out. Then she’d disappeared somewhere into the depths of the suit racks. Tie-scarf flapping behind her.

The tie was still curled in Carmilla’s hand. and she wound the fabric between her fingers, keeping a tight grip on the tiny stars.

Somehow she’d fallen in love with dorkiest girl she’d ever encountered.

“Carmilla.” Mattie had her by the hand before Carmilla could look up and was dragging Carmilla over to the changing rooms and shoving a suit jacket over her shoulders before Carmilla’s protest could fall off her lips.

“Mattie,” Carmilla started, “You know I always wanted to-”

“I know,” Mattie cut her off, “but we both know you have no choice in the matter. Now make it easier for all of us and let them take your measurements.” When they stopped in front of a tiny man with a measuring tape, Mattie released her hand then spun around to face her. Something that felt uncomfortably like pity on her sister’s face.

“At least I look hot in suits,” Carmilla said.

Mattie tapped her under the chin then pushed her a step back so the tailor could take over, “You’re hardly an impartial observer. That ego of yours is getting in the way.”

“Are you saying I don’t look hot in suits?” Carmilla raised her arm as little as possible while the measurement was taken.

“I’m saying that we need a third party opinion,” Mattie’s eyes glinted, “Hollis!”

Carmilla’s eyes widened but before she could say anything, Laura’s head popped out from between the suit racks. A small twinge of a smile jumped across Carmilla’s face when she realized that the hideous snowflake tie had migrated up to be tied around Laura’s head Rambo-style.

“Yeah?” Laura asked.

“Don’t listen to her.” Carmilla said, “She’s just trying to make me less miserable by making everyone miserable.”

Laura just squinted at her, “Why are you mi-”

“Hollis. Shush.” Mattie was not one to pull her punches, “Do you think that Carmilla would look attractive in a suit? Perhaps something tailored,” Mattie said, “full piece. Jacket and vest underneath. I’m thinking an accented handkerchief and a pocketwatch for that touch of class. Onyx coloured of course, fitted sleeves and a wide-collared drop length jacket cut. A tad tighter than is entirely respectable on the pants. Show off those curves. ”

Carmilla tried not to look up but she couldn’t quite help it, something dragging her gaze to Laura’s. And then blinked. Laura’s eyes were bugged slightly out of her head and a delightful flush was creeping it’s way up Laura’s neck.

Despite her distaste at the situation, Carmilla smirked. Untangling the tie from between her fingers, she quickly looped it over her head and tied it loosely. Then she casually yanked on the knot, “Do suits do it for you, cupcake? Because this whole thing might be worth it if it keeps my girl happy.”

Laura’s eyes followed her fingers as she worked the knot, “Just trying not to feed your ego,” she said, “I’d rather you were happy.”

“Because I don’t blame you if suits are your thing. I certainly enjoy how they look on the ladies. I can sympathize,” Carmilla continued as though Laura hadn’t spoken, yanking a little harder, “all the fabric. Just gives a girl so much,” she paused, “leverage.”

Laura swallowed.

“Still waiting on an answer Miss Hollis,” Mattie said.

Carmilla tugged the knot one last time, sending it tight against her throat.

“Carmilla is very pretty.” Laura blurted the words, face scarlet, and then burrowed back into the suit jackets and out of sight.

Mattie cracked a smile, “So composed, your fiancee.”

“Careful,” Carmilla said, “or you’ll break her.”

Mattie somehow managed the world’s most dignified snort, “I think you already accomplished that.”

Before Carmilla could even begin to unpack that sentence Laura burst from the racks again. This time adding a hideous bright red, florally patterned jacket to match the snowflake tie. The sleeves were far too big and when Laura waved her arms, they flapped like a bird.

“My vote is for this one!” She called, “and they have cufflinks that look like little Captain America shields.”

Definitely in love with a dork.

As Laura, raced over and draped the oversized jacket over her shoulders to cover the jacket that Mattie had chosen, Carmilla realized that the dorkiness might have been part of the appeal.

#

She was in love with Laura Hollis.

Who was her best friend and the only reason that Carmilla was even letting herself be dragged to this lunch date with Danny Lawrence of all people. Literally dragged. They were walking. Like a common plebian. When there was a perfectly functional car available. They were walking. Laura was practically bouncing as they left the suit shop, fingers fluttering from her thighs to drum against her shoulders of all places.

Carmilla rescued one of them, capturing Laura’s hand in her own simply because she wanted to. She wanted to. Her breath caught at the admission.

“You okay, Carm?” Laura asked. Noticing. Of course. She always noticed. Almost.

Carmilla forced an eyeroll, “Just thinking about the unfortunate encounter that you’re forcing me to endure. I should have brought sunglasses. Is Xena’s hair still as bright or has she finally started to go grey from the compulsive worrying?”

“If I’m not grey,” Laura said, “then Danny won’t be. Worrying about you is way more troublesome than anything else.”

“Don’t you waste time worrying over me, cupcake.” Carmilla said.

Laura’s grip on her hand tightened. Words soft, “It’s not a waste.”

The movement of Laura’s hand made the cool press of her ring even more apparent. The brushed metal kissing and releasing Carmilla’s palm with every sway of their hands. Laura’s arm swept against her own as the last of the leaves quivered on snow crusted tree branches and wind skipped between tiny shops to meet them on the sidewalk.

Their pace had started briskly, Laura eager to see her old friend, but as Carmilla watched Laura, she found her own steps slowing. Laura’s head spun as her gaze flew over each shop window, each bird that flew by, each dirty snowbank they passed. A smile on her face that only grew every time she found something she deemed interesting. Each one prompting a tug on Carmilla’s hand to make sure that Carmilla noticed too.

They were never big things. A leaf with the last tint of red. A shop selling pomegranates incase Carmilla had the sudden urge to buy her favourite fruit. A row full of fluffy teddy bears. Laura found them all worthy of her attention, and by extension, Carmilla’s.

She kept expecting Laura to pick up their pace again, eager to see her ex-girlfriend, but the forward tug never happened. Just more tugs to the left or right. The first bluejay. A poster of Carmilla’s face. A stall that sold roses.

Laura’s tug was hardest then, pulling Carmilla to the side and then to a stop. Hand disappearing into her pocket before Carmilla could catch up and trading a shiny toonie for a single red rose.

“Flowers for your lady love?” Carmilla found her voice to make the jab, “Should have gone with white, Beanpole’s got enough red on her already and the shades will only clash.”

She almost smacked herself in the face. One of these days, her persistent sarcasm was going to drive Laura away. No-one will tolerate a defence mechanism forever.

But Laura just shot Carmilla a look that quickly evaporated into a smirk, “But you could use a little colour,” Laura said.

She held out the flower.

Towards Carmilla.

Who just stared.

Which always prompted the motormouth, “I mean,” Laura said, “I know that this probably isn’t the best time to be buying flowers because it’s cold and we’re going to be out for the afternoon and everything and you’ve got no water for it and it’s probably just going to die.”

Carmilla’s fingers twitched and as they curled around the stem, a small smile blossomed over her face. Which Laura apparently hadn’t noticed.

Laura continued, “Cause flowers are silly gestures of ill-formed sentimentality or whatever it is you usually say but I saw it and I wanted to buy it for you so I did and we never just get to hang out together anymore and not do like campaign stuff. So this walk has been nice. And I’m your girlfriend or fiancee or whatever and I wanted to and sometimes I overthink things and I wasn’t then but now i am and for PETE’S SAKE JUST TAKE THE FLOWER BEFORE I ACTUALLY GIVE IT TO DANNY.”

“Already done, cupcake,” Carmilla said and booped Laura on the nose with the petals.

Laura’s face turned the colour of the flower but her chin went up, “Okay. Good. Great.”

Fingers tangling back together as she tugged Carmilla back down the street.

Steps even slower than before.

#

There was a distinct possibility that she was in love with Carmilla Karnstein.

Impulsively buying her a rose? Even Laura could only ignore the signs for so long.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try real hard. Laura bounded into the small cafe, grinning as she caught sight of Danny waiting for them at one of the outdoor tables. The redhead gave them a wave and Laura could practically feel Carmilla tense.

“Promise to play nice?” Laura asked Carmilla as they crossed the nearly empty patio.

“No.” Carmilla said.

But her thumb grazed over Laura’s skin before releasing their hands to pull our Laura’s chair, “Xena,” Carmilla said as Laura sat, “Pleasure to see you again.”

“Laura make you say that?” Danny said, offering her hand.

Carmilla paused but took it. The handshake brief but enough that Laura felt the smile crack across her own face at the fact that they were simply interacting. Civily. She’d never entirely understand how Danny and Carmilla could both get along so well with her and yet somehow not mix themselves. This, however, was progress and she’d take it.

“Platitudes make the Mrs. happy,” Carmilla said.

“Well,” Danny actually gave Carmilla a smile, “You always were whipped.”

Laura almost had a heartattack when Carmilla actually gave Danny the smallest smile back. Sure, it was accompanied by a scoff, but it was a smile.

“Like you were any better,” Carmilla said.

“We were both pretty bad,” Danny said.

“Past tense?” Carmilla asked.

“I never stood a chance,” Danny said, then smirked, “So yeah, past. Now it’s just you.”

Laura frowned, head ping-ponging back and forth between the two women. This was either the most vague conversation ever uttered or she was missing some large piece of the puzzle. Which made zero sense, she was the one who was friends with both of them. They didn’t even know each other well enough to have secrets she wasn’t privy to.

Right?

Also, it was maybe kind of rude that they were totally leaving Laura out of whatever this conversation was.

“You’re sure?” Carmilla was sitting straight up in her seat.

“Positive,” Danny said.

“Well, if I’d known that,” Carmilla said, “maybe we could have gotten along and saved the creampuff some grief. Trust me. You had a chance.”

For the first time, Danny leaned forward, “You can’t possibly still think that. Trust me. I’ve had years to think about it and it was always going to be about you. As long as you existed, there was never a chance.”

Carmilla just frowned.

“Besides,” Danny said and leaned back again with a smile, “it hardly matters now.”

“Alright!” Laura shouted, “What in the world are you two talking about and why don’t I know what it is? You two didn’t even like each other and now you’re having a whole secret conversation.”

Carmilla’s eyes widened briefly and from the corner of her eye, Laura saw Danny squint, eyes going from Laura to Carmilla and back again. But neither spoke up. Laura was about to press harder when Danny finally said, “Just congratulating your fiancee on the engagement. No need to pull out the investigative journalist, Hollis”

“Oh,” Laura said, “Oh. Um, thanks.”

Carmilla slumped slightly in her seat as Danny said, “Read about it in the paper. Sounds like Karnstein here was pulling all the romantic stops. Filling an entire room with cupcakes just to propose,” Danny shook her head, “And here our phone calls had me convinced you’d grown out of that sugar dependency.”

“My sugar intake is just fine,” Laura said, “she didn’t even let me eat more than a half dozen of them.”

“Wouldn’t have been quite as romantic if you’d gone into a sugar coma,” Carmilla muttered.

“Never thought that Karnstein would be a romantic underneath all that leather.”Danny picked up a menu, paused and reconsidered, “ Although I suppose it wouldn’t take much to out-romance you, just a few candles and she’d be set.”

“I’m romantic,” Laura objected.

There was something extremely disconcerting about watching her ex-girlfriend and her current something try and smother a laugh at exactly the same time.

“Of course you are.” Danny said, trying to backtrack.

Carmilla had no such interest, “You treat everyone exactly the same, cupcake.” Carmilla’s eyes were looking at her fondly but something uncertain twinged at the corners of her mouth as she continued, “Girlfriend? Popcorn and movie night. Best friend? Popcorn and movie night. Random stranger on the street? Popcorn and movie night. Mortal enemy?” She paused dramatically, “Popcorn and movie night.”

“What?” Laura said, “No. I don’t. There’s more. I mean, not there’s anything wrong with popcorn and a movie night because it’s awesome. But I differentiate. I can do romantic. Totally, lovey-dovey romantic stuff. Date stuff type things. I can do that.” She looked over at Danny, “Right?”

Danny winced.

“Laura,” Carmilla cut in, “You once took me along on a date that’d you planned with beanstalk over here because instead of planning a date you decided to investigate a corruption scandal at a non-profit and needed extra back-up. On Valentine's Day.”

“Not exactly how I’d thought that date was going to go when you insisted on planning it,” Danny admitted.

Laura flushed, “I’m romantic! That was extraneous circumstances.”

“Give an example?” Carmilla prompted.

Laura’s gaze flashed backwards, trying to drag forward something that would pass as romantic. So maybe she just prefered casual interactions and spending time together and doing important things together instead of big gestures. But there had to be something.

Only one really popped out, “I just bought you a rose,” she blurted.

Carmilla froze then her gaze darted down to the red bloom poking out of her bag.

“Really?” Danny’s neck craned until she caught a glance, and her eyebrows went up, “Wow. You actually did. Coming from you that’s practically a full declaration of love.” Laura wondered if she should be insulted at the clear surprise ringing through Danny’s tone, “Karnstein was right to wife you.”

The tiny metal table shook as Carmilla jerked to her feet. “Excuse me,” she muttered, then fled into the restaurant.

Laura half stood, uncertain of where to go. Head bobbing between where Carmilla had disappeared and Danny, “What was that?” She asked.

Danny was squinting at her again, “Maybe she had to go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Laura said the word with no conviction, eyes still on where Carmilla had disappeared, “Maybe I should go after her?”

“You know her best,” Danny said.

Laura rose fully to her feet, pushing back from the table to chase after Carmilla. The restaurant was small and as her eyes swept the patrons it was easy to see that none were her -whatever Carmilla was. Friend. Best friend.

When she finally found the bathroom, the door was locked. Laura knocked, “Carm?”

She really hoped she wasn’t intruding on some poor innocent person.

No sound.

“Carm?” Laura said again, “You okay?”

A single word, “Fine.”

It was definitely Carmilla.

But.

Laura dealt in words. She traded in them, made them, and moulded them to get exactly the story she wanted told. Each one important, shaped by its context and tone, even the print it was written on. She may have had trouble with verbal waterfalls but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand them.

This was not fine.

Even more so because it was Carmilla saying it. Carmilla who spoke in fragments of sarcasm and disdain to cover everything underneath. Layers upon layers. Like waterfalls of words all swirling together that sometimes Laura thought she was better at navigating than her own words.

Except.

She didn’t know why.

The single word was quick. And sharp. And just a little bit broken.

But she couldn’t figure out why. Why it was broken. The more time she spent with Carmilla, the more time they spent diving through this charade, the less Laura felt like she understood the meaning behind the actions. She could tell if Carmilla was happy or sad or scared.

But she didn’t know why.

And that never sat well with Laura Hollis. She was an investigative journalist for Pete’s sake.

“What's wrong?” Laura said, pressing herself against the door as though she could teleport through it.

“Nothing.” Carmilla said.

“Don’t lie to me.” Laura said.

Carmilla’s voice came slamming through the door, “I said I’m fine, Laura.”

“You’ve barricaded yourself in the bathroom, Carm!” Laura said, “what part of that screams fine to you?”

“The part that expects you to trust me when I tell you something,” Carmilla said.

Laura fought the urge to smash her head into the door, “I trust you because you don’t lie to me.”

“I’m fine-” Carmilla started again.

Laura’s words shot out before Carmilla could say it again, “No. No you are not. Don’t tell me you’re fine like I’m just one of your constituents or Perry or Will or heaven-forbid even your Mother. Don’t say that like you think I won’t know better. Like you can trick me. Don’t say it like you think I don’t matter. Because that’s what lies are. They mean you’re not worthy of the truth and you know how I am about truth.”

Memories of late nights digging into every crevice of some lie ran through her head. Carmilla beside her, ‘helping’ by letting Laura pile papers on top of her while Carmilla napped on the couch for ‘moral support’.

“Just don’t,” Laura couldn’t quite hate the waver in her throat, “I’m asking what’s wrong because I care about you, Carm. So so much. And you don’t have to tell me the truth if you don’t want to but. Please. Don’t feed me a lie. Not you. Just do not give me a lie. If you can’t give me the truth, tell me that you can’t tell me and leave it at that. But don’t sit there and lie to me Carm. Please. Don’t. Too many people have and I never thought you would. And,” Laura took a shuddering breath, “just please. Don’t lie.”

There was a pause, lingering in the air like the scent of a flower long forgotten.

Carmilla’s voice came softer, “I will be okay, Laura. I promise. Not right this second. But. Just. Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Laura tapped her knuckles against the door and peeled herself off it, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

A light knock from the other side of the door was her only answer.

Laura plopped back into her chair and slumped against the seat, “She’ll be out in a few.” Laura said at Danny’s questioning look.

Danny just shrugged and started telling Laura a story about a disastrous training experience with one of her students. The story was a good one, full of chuckle-inducing moments and just a hint of intrigue, but even it couldn’t distract Laura from the empty seat at the table.

Her leg bounced as she sat in the chair stopping only when a vibrating noise cut into their conversation.

Laura looked over. The screen of Carmilla’s cell phone, left lying on the table, was lit up as it rang. The word ‘Mother’ displayed across the screen above a tiny flashing notification light and another notification bubble.

Missed calls (7)

Unread messages (26)

Laura was with Carmilla. They’d seen Mattie, Will, and Perry only that morning. There was only one other person who could possibly be interested in speaking to Carmilla so urgently. And she was calling now.

Again. Apparently.

Laura gasped, causing Danny to look over in alarm. That had to be it. Laura’s brow dropped as she stared at the vibrating phone. That had to be what was wrong with Carmilla. Her mother. Since yesterday. Since whatever had happened with Carmilla and her mother after Laura refused to leave and Carmilla told her to stay. Her thoughts fell into place like dominos, the pieces of story that finally made a coherent web.

The nightmare. The shaking hand. The silence.

It had to have something to do with Carmilla’s mother.

She wasn’t exactly sure what or how or why. But Laura knew that something about Mrs Karnstein had upset Carmilla to the point that she was hiding in bathrooms. And having bad dreams.

Mrs Karnstein was hurting Carmilla.

Laura set her jaw.

The phone vibrated again.

Laura picked it up.

#

She was in love with Laura Hollis.

Who was, undoubtedly, a hurricane.

Carmilla perched on the toilet seat and slowly rubbed her temples. Then she switched to her chest, trying to calm the ache that seemed to be building inside of it as the day went on. It had never been this strong since Laura had come stomping back into her life with a diamond ring, a bouquet of roses, and some cupcakes.

With a bonus teddy bear.

Before, whatever had lived in her chest had been quiet, the occasional flare or spark but largely ignorable. Laura a thousand kilometers away and safely contacted through a computer screen. But this. This. This pounding and pulsing and racing. These horrendous butterflies. They could only be the result of the storm that was Laura. The girl who went from nerdy onesies to sexy red dresses and made both look good. The girl who could shout at her mother and then quietly take her hand. The girl who guarded her cookies ferociously and then handed Carmilla the last mug of hot chocolate.

The girl who knew nothing of roses and yet bought her one anyway.

The girl who objectively knew nothing of romance but still somehow managed to make Carmilla feel like she might be special.

The girl who gave her hope when Carmilla shouldn’t be hoping. The girl who made Carmilla’s chest flutter when Carmilla knew she didn’t feel the same way.

But did she?

Did she really know that? Or had she simply always assumed?

Because a rose.

Of course it was a rose. Of all things.

Carmilla groaned and went back to rubbing her temples, cursing silently at the red paint on the walls around her. She stood and faced the mirror. Taking a deep breath, Carmilla smoothed her hair and exited the bathroom as nonchalantly as one can after spending 10 minutes in the stall.

She was immediately hit with Laura’s voice and almost smiled, but Laura’s tone was harsh and Carmilla’s faced dropped to one of concern.

“No!” Laura said, “You don’t get to just cut me off and tell me I don’t understand. I understand just fine thank you. And even if I didn’t. You can’t just talk to her the way that you do. It’s so rude.”

Carmilla frowned. She’d seen Laura be angry with Danny before considering she’d had front row tickets to more of their fights then she would have liked, but this tone was something else altogether. Usually Laura could conjure up at least a twinge of melancholy but this Laura just sounded. Well.

Angry.

“I mean, come on. She’s trying so hard and she just wants to make you happy. Can’t you just be proud of her or something? Frankly, I don’t know how you can say such mean things to her. Carmilla is your daughter and you treat her like some kind of punching-”

No. No no no no no no.

Carmilla was across the patio and plucking the phone from Laura’s hand before she could even truly register who Laura was actually yelling at. Making angry.

“Mother.” Carmilla’s voice was breathless as she said the word. Shoulders straight even as her stomach curled.

“Mircalla.” All her mother said was her name. Short. Clipped.

And her heart went from fluttering to a cold dead stop. Thus was the hurricane that was Laura Hollis.

Chapter Text

If she wasn’t in love with Carmilla Karnstein, then Laura didn’t know how to explain the cold, dead weight sitting in her stomach.

As she watched Carmilla crumble.

Carmilla said almost nothing as she pressed the phone against her ear. Occasionally her mouth opened, but it closed again before Carmilla could get a word out. Laura certainly found it unsettling but it wasn’t the worst part.

Laura picked at her fries, watching Carmilla sit on the stone wall at the edge of the patio. Chin dropped to chest. Her free hand pressed tight against her stomach. Shoulders curled in on themselves. Legs crossed and twisted together. The only real motion left in her body was her head as Carmilla frequently gave small, fast nods.

As though her mother could see.

Maybe she could. For all Laura knew there were reporters on her mother’s payroll camped out in the bushes, giving only the illusion of an empty patio.

Carmilla got smaller and smaller, taking up less space, meanwhile Laura’s leg moved faster. Up and down. Up and down until their drinks had tiny waves forming between the ice cubes. Danny finally reached out and put a hand on her thigh when the drinks were in danger of capsizing.

“Sorry,” Laura said. She gave Danny’s hand a quick squeeze alongside a smile. Then she picked up the ketchup and dumped more on her fries.

For the third time.

Just to give her fingers something to do so she wouldn’t go over there and grab the phone again.

Finally, Carmilla hung up, straightened, and stood. She made her way from the edge of the restaurant back to the table, sitting delicately in the chair but dropping her phone in her bag with a plunck. Eyes fixed on the glass of water in front of her. Shoulders tight.

“Danny,” Carmilla said. Laura’s eyes widened at the use of a real name as Danny choked on her salad, “Could you please give us a moment?” Carmilla continued.

Danny couldn’t get to her feet fast enough, “yeah. Sure. No problem.”

Carmilla’s back stayed straight as Danny disappeared into the restaurant, the disks of Carmilla’s spine lining up like tiny soldiers waiting for their next battle.

Laura waited for the moment when she’d crumple again, falling into herself and shrinking down. But it never came. Carmilla’s spine stayed locked as though pulled upwards by something Laura couldn’t see. Eyes fixed on her water glass.

“You can’t do that again,” Carmilla said. Her voice was flat..

Laura started speaking over it before she could even register how much she hated it. “I know,” Laura said, “I know. I shouldn’t pick up other people’s phones. It’s rude and an invasion of privacy and totally not cool. Boundaries and everything. Sorry. I just. Wasn’t thinking. I should have waited until I saw your mom or called her myself or something. So I’m sorry about that. And I take full responsibility if she’d mad or whatever but it’s not like she can refute what I was-”

“Laura.” Carmilla said.

It was the tone that made her stop. Not angry or jealous or pensive. Just. Heavy.

“No. I meant.” Carmilla gave her head a small shake, “You cannot say those things to my mother again.”

“She’s the one who’s out of line!” Laura said, “Fine. I was rude. But she’s way worse.And she needs to hear it. Someone definitely needs to tell her.”

“You can’t say them.” Carmilla repeated.

Carmilla still wasn’t looking at her so Laura threw her hands in the air, “I’m not going to let her try and walk all over you. Who does she think she is? I don’t care if she’s your mother. She’s said nothing positive about you the entire time we’ve been doing this and she treats everyone like crap. Me and Perry and Mattie and everyone and you. Especially you. I can’t just sit there and say nothing while she-”

“It’s not that bad.” Carmilla said, “She’s trying to help. It’s for my own good.”

“Not that bad. Not that bad?” Laura almost choked on air, “Carm, it’s practically emotional abuse. Heck, maybe it is emotional abuse. Cause I don’t even know the technical definition but she’s definitely manipulating your emotions or whatever with half a compliment that’s really just a compliment to herself while putting you down and you know I only took 1 psychology course in first year because I thought it would help with journalism but it was developmental and not social or abnormal or anything so it wasn’t helpful at all with this.”

Laura frowned, refocused and continued, “But, regardless. I can’t just let her think that’s okay. You have to know that’s not okay. I mean, she’s got you not sleeping and the nightmares and you just literally ran to the bathroom for like ten minutes.”

For the briefest second, Carmilla’s eyes darted to her, “That’s not why I was in the bathroom.”

“What? Then why were-” Laura started then stopped, “We’re going to come back to that. But the point stands. Carm, she’s horrible to you and I’m not going to just stand by and watch. Like, it hurts me to watch that. You get all small and crumply and I don’t even care if she’s rude to me because she’s so much worse to you and I can’t let you think that’s okay. Because it’s not. And I don’t know why you let her talk to you like that and I need to make sure she knows I won’t stand for it. Because I won’t. I’ll just go over there and-”

“Laura,” Carmilla said.

“And totally tell her off.” Laura continued, flush rising to her face, “Because where does she get off doing that. She can’t just do that. Say all those cruel things. And you never say anything back and Mattie and Will and Perry all just take it and someone has to do it because it’s cruel. I’m not just going to let you let your mother speak to you like that. I won’t stand for it. I’ll go in there and convince her and I’ll-”

“She’s my mother, Laura. Not yours!” Carmilla’s hand slammed down on the table.

The whack rang out across the patio, hanging in the air like buried promises you hadn’t realized you’d forgotten.

Carmilla’s spine was still rigid, fist flattened into spread fingers on the table, and still staring at the cup. Still not looking at Laura. But there was a small tremble in her body, as though it was held so tight it couldn’t help but quiver.

Laura’s hands felt like they were grasping at nothing, finally coming to settle against her sides as her arms covered her stomach. Eyes ripping from Carmilla to land on her own knees.

They spoke at once.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Laura gave a small nod at Carmilla’s apology.

A hand landed on her knee. Carmilla’s touch was so delicate, almost afraid to put pressure, that Laura wouldn’t have believed it was there from touch alone. When she traced the hand upwards, Carmilla was finally, finally, looking at her.

With her free hand, Carmilla ruffled her hair, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Her hand left her hair to gesture at the table.

Laura nodded.

“I just.” Carmilla said, clearly frustrated at her inability to get past sentence fragments.

Laura reached out, covering the hand on her knees with her own and squeezing tight. Her engagement ring glinted as the sun bounced off it, sending small beams of light sparkling across them.

There was silence for a moment.

“She’s my mother, Laura,” Carmilla said at last, “she’s mine. And you have to let me deal with her how I want. Let me handle it. Please. Stop yelling at her. Stop making her angry. Just stop. She knows what she’s talking about. You don’t have to let her walk all over you but,” Carmilla’s face dropped, eyes reeking of desperation, “please. Let me handle her. Please.”

“But she’s hurting you,” Laura said, “She’s not getting how great you are and she’s being cruel and you should be told how amazing you’re doing. Because you are. And you don’t even do anything. I can’t just let her insult you.”

Carmilla squeezed her knee and Laura stopped, teeth biting lightly at her lip as Carmilla’s eyes swept her face. Carmilla swallowed once. Twice.

“You’re making things worse.” Carmilla said, eye briefly fluttering shut as the words spilled out.

Laura’s heart dropped.

Her breath stuttered as the word barely escaped, “What?”

Her hand jerked back, releasing Carmilla to hide against her body.

And Carmilla chased her, capturing Laura’s hand in her own.

Warm and solid and there.

But Laura was making it worse. Making it worse. Making it worse.

Carmilla shouldn’t chase her.

She should let her go. If Laura was making it worse. Carmilla should let her go.

Her heart clenched at the thought and it must have shown on her face or in her hands or her breath or maybe Carmilla really had captured her heart and could feel it squeeze.

“Laura, laura, laura,” the words raced off Carmilla’s tongue, “Laura no. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean you make things worse just. I didn’t mean that. It came out wrong.” Carmilla gave a small huff of a frustrated laugh, “you always make it come out wrong.”

Laura couldn’t stop the wince.

Carmilla started scrambling, “No. You don’t make it wrong. I didn’t. See? It’s so hard to think. The words get jumbled.”

That Laura had trouble believing. Carmilla was literally the epitome of grace and words flowed from her like poetry. What could possibly rattle her? Not Laura.

Her hand was still caught in Carmilla’s as Laura said, “What are you saying, Carm?”

Carmilla paused, something twitching in the corner of her eye. Then she said, “When you confront my mother, it doesn’t put her in a favourable mood. This has a tendency to bleed over into other areas of her life and only exacerbates her stress levels, combined, this tends to create friction in her relationships with others that she has to release. It’s a natural cycle. However, this is ultimately detrimental to our campaign efforts and leads to less than favourable interactions.”

Laura frowned, trying to keep up with Carmilla’s switch to a more formal speech.

“Please,” Carmilla continued, “I need you to stop persisting in arguments with her. Let me handle my own mother in a way that I deem best and avoid the negative consequences associated with confrontation. I just need you to stop. That’s it..”

The words came as a whisper, “I was just trying to help.”

Instantly formal Carmilla was gone and an earnest girl with big brown eyes was looking back at her, clutching to Laura’s hand as though it was a lifeline, “You are. We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone. You,” Carmilla said, “make it feel like more than an illusion. And, I don’t know what to do about it. I just know you help me simply by existing.”

Carmilla was definitely the romantic one.

“I can go if you want,” Laura offered as though it didn’t somehow tie her stomach in knots, “if it’ll help. I can go back to Toronto or wherever. I’m sure your mother would be glad to-”

“Stay.”

Unlike the last time Carmilla said it, this time the word wasn’t small. It was anything but small. It was layers of things underneath a simple four letter word.

It always had been.

Stay.

A request from Carmilla that she could never seem to deny. Even when she tried her hardest, she was always pulled back. Even when she left. Somehow, Carmilla always made her stay.

“Please stay,” Carmilla’s words were a whisper, confidence slipping. As though she actually thought that Laura Hollis had ever been capable of leaving Carmilla Karnstein. Even when Laura left. She stayed.

How could she not?

“Okay,” Laura mumbled, “if you’re sure”

“I am.” Carmilla said. Slowly her hand lifted from Laura, moving to pick up her phone again, “I’ve just got to make a few calls about all this but I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if she could.

The thought punched Laura in the chest. Because staying was different now. It was different. When did it turn different?

Scrambling, she rose to her feet and said, “I’m just gonna get Danny.” She didn’t even wait for Carmilla reply, just taking off into the restaurant.

She always stayed.

Even the first time. She left.

But she stayed.

#

Laura’s Freshman Year of College

Laura’s backpack was heavy, like super heavy, like, ‘I’m carrying around 3 textbooks and notebooks and a laptop’ level of heavy. Walking down the hallway of her dorm, Laura finally let her posture slip as she tried to adjust the straps into something slightly more manageable. The lectures from her father about posture and attitude and back pain lurked in her head.

“Frosh!” Laf burst from their dorm room in front of her, “hold this!”

They shoved a beaker into her hands before dashing back into their dorm. Laura fumbled for a moment then held the beaker as far as from her body as possible, “Laf?” she called, eyes locked on the vibrantly blue liquid that was spitting yellow smoke into the air, “What am I holding?”

“Essence of Fidgerbity” they yelled, “with a couple of my own adjustments.” Their head popped back out of the door, with a suspicious green smudge on their chin, “But it kinda started smoking and you know how Perr gets when I fill the room with ‘noxious chemicals’ so I’m gonna need you to hold that until I can calm it down. Should just be a minute.”

They reached out and dropped something green into the jar.

The beaker started sparking into what appeared to be a tiny storm cloud.

“Or maybe two minutes,” Laf said, staring down at it.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Laura asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Laf said. They disappeared again.

“Excellent,” Laura drawled. She looked back down at the sparking liquid, “If this makes my skin change colour again, at all, you soooo owe me one.”

Laf’s voice drifted from their dorm, “I’ll have Perr bake you cookies. Those double chocolate ones.”

That was 100% an acceptable repayment plan. Laura hummed happily and rocked on her heels, stopping only when the liquid started to slosh dangerously. The little storm cloud grew in size, tiny winds whipping waves up within the liquid. She squinted, trying to decide if those really were mini lightning bolts forming.

“Laura!” Danny called. Laura gave her a grin as Danny walked over, reminding herself that this time she wasn’t going to start sputtering in front of her hot Lit TA, “We still on for pie?” Danny asked.

“Yupp! Totally. Definitely. Yes.” Laura said and almost groaned. Way to play it cool Hollis. She tried to recover, “I’ve just got to finish holding this for Laf and drop this bag off at my room and we’re good to go.”

Danny stopped beside her and frowned, “What is that? Why is it sparking?”

“It’s one of Laf’s experiments,” Laura said, “Apparently it’s not going exactly as planned.”

“I can see that.” Danny reached out, “Here, better hand it over.”

Laura pulled the beaker closer to her chest without actually letting it touch her chest, “It’s okay. I’ve got.”

Danny kept her hand extended, “It doesn’t exactly look very safe.”

“It’s perfectly safe!” Laf chimed in, re-appearing to drop something else in the beaker. The tiny eaves started churning harder as the winds began to swirl, “Well, mostly safe.” They amended, “It’s probably not going to kill anyone.”

“And you just handed it to Laura?” Danny asked.

Laf shrugged, “Frosh’s got it. She’s hardcore. Plus she gets it, you didn’t see Perr after the whole mini volcano incident at the ‘Welcome to the Floor Party’. I`ll just fix this up and she'll never even have to know that I'm playing with the weather again.”

`You're doing what?!?” Perry’s shriek hit them all in the back of the head. Laura shoved the beaker behind her back, hoping the oversized backpack would block it.

Laf turned slowly, “Hey. Perr. Funny story about that.”

“Not now.” Perry didn’t even hesitate. She marched past the group, into the dorm room, and emerged moments later holding a large pot in oven-mitt covered hands. “Give it here.” she said.

“But Perr,” Laf protested, “it’s gonna be so cool. I’ve almost fixed-”

“Give it here.” Perry repeated, holding out the pot.

For a moment, Laura was frozen as Laf turned to her with a begging look in their eyes. Then, she slowly took the beaker from behind her back and placed it in the pot. The tiny storm cloud had managed to whip itself up into a mini hurricane, blue liquid spinning behind the glass.

Perry slammed the lid of the pot down, “Glad to see someone here has some sense.”

She stomped back into the dorm room as Laf trailed after her, mumbling about science and progress.

“Laura, dear?” Laura almost jumped when Perry re-emerged and said. “I noticed that Carmilla had another young lady accompanying her when she passed by on the way to your dorm. Could you please remind her that the supply closet is meant for cleaning supplies, not people. We don’t need a repeat of last week’s,” Perry paused, “mishap.”

“You think she’ll listen to me?” Laura said, fighting a snort.

She couldn’t quite interpret the look Perry gave her, “Just ask dear.” Then Perry looked back into the room and her eyes widened, “Laf! No. Do not touch that.” The door closed as she disappeared into the room.

Then it hit Laura, “Wait.” she yelled, “does that mean Carmilla and the girl are in our room?”

The sound of thunder rumbled past them, leaving Laura without an answer. She sighed and looked down the hallway.

“I can go with you?” Danny offered.

Laura squared her shoulders, “No. I’ve got it. It’s fine. Carmilla talks a big game and there are a lot a lot of girls but I’m pretty sure she isn’t doing much more than just making out with them. It’s kind of weird.”

“You sure?” Danny repeated.

“Yupp,” Laura said, “see you in a minute.”

She hoisted the backpack a little higher and took off down the hall. Pausing just outside the door to check for any sort of sock-on-the-doorknob situation, Laura was relieved to find it empty. She’d had that conversation with Carmilla and was pretty sure that her speech on dorm etiquette had at least somewhat imprinted on Carmilla.

She’d made Laura go over the ‘intercourse in the dorm room section’ more than once because she wasn’t clear on the rules. It was the only section where Carmilla had actually looked like she was paying attention.

Laura had a sneaking suspicion that Carmilla just liked watching her get flustered and there was lots of room for Carmilla to make innuendos in that section.

She’d made a note to revise it before her next roommate.

She put her hand on the doorknob. There was still the matter of this girl possibly being in the room with Carmilla. Laura sighed and turned the handle anyway. She’d walked in on Carmilla making out with enough girls that she was practically insensitive to the sight. Just part of the decor.

Owl lamp. Dirty dishes. Carmilla sucking someone’s face.

Barging into the room, Laura didn’t even look up before flinging her bag onto her bed and saying, “If I turn around and you’re making out with another one of your study buddies, I’m going to start spritzing you like a ca--”

Laura turned and choked on her words. Every single one of them evaporating and dying in her throat. All thoughts dying with them.

Carmilla was naked. Totally naked.

Granted there was another girl there and she was also naked and Laura was sure that she was probably very pretty but the more relevant fact was that Carmilla was naked and on top and definitely naked and this was a little bit more than the normal sucking face and Laura was definitely not used to this and her knees were kind of shaky and Carmilla was naked.

“Laura.” Carmilla said.

The use of her name ripped Laura gaze back up to Carmilla’s face. Carmilla’s eyes were dark and wide, an expression on her face that Laura hadn’t seen before. Even as Laura watched, colour rose to Carmilla’s cheeks as something vulnerable flashed across her face. The softness of the way Carmilla said her name hanging in the air.

Words. Words would be good right about now.

“Socks!” Laura said.

Not exactly what she had in mind.

“On the door!” She tried again.

Brilliant.

But then again, Carmilla was naked.

There were words said but hardly remembered. Carmilla was naked. And winking. And a husky, “stay,” was tumbling off her lips as she threw on her robe. Carmilla slunk forward to brush her lips against the shell of Laura’s ear as she whispered an offer to send the other girl away.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Carmilla said, then added, “Laura.”

Sputtering, Laura strategically retreated but for the next 3 years, her thoughts did exactly as Carmilla asked.

They stayed.

end

###

The thought punched Laura in the chest. Because staying was different now. It was different. When did it turn different?
Laura bolted from the table and into the restaurant with her eyes on the bathroom. She only stopped when she literally ran into Danny. She stumbled and Danny reached out to hold her shoulders, “Laura!” Danny said, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Laura said, “Of course. What wouldn’t be fine, why wouldn’t it be fine? Everything is fine and nothing is wrong. Well. No. I mean, yes. Yes everything is great and no-one is having any revelations or anything and it’s going to be fine. Holy hufflepuff what if it’s not fine?”

Danny gently squeezed Laura’s arm, “I’m sure everything is going to be fine. I’d be a lot more certain of that if you told me what was going on but, I’m still sure that everything is going to be fine.”

She guided Laura over to a stool beside the bar, letting go only when Laura hopped up and then plunked her head down on the wood. Laura focused on her breathing. The swift whoosh in and out and in again as her breath left condensation on the bar top’s finish.

She mumbled words into the bar, letting the wood absorb them before her ears could register. Could make them real.

This was insane.

And yet it wasn’t.

“What was that?” Danny said.

The words slipped so easy off her tongue, almost too easy. And yet not.

“I’m in love with Carmilla.”

There they were hanging, just hanging there out in the open for everyone to hear. Earth-shaking and mind boggling and yet the twists in her stomach started to calm the second they cleared their lips.

Not to mention Danny sounded entirely nonplussed, “I’m aware. You are marrying the woman. It’s not exactly news, Hollis, you’ve been in love with her for, like, forever.”

Her head whipped up, “What?”

“That’s the whole reason we broke up,” Danny looked at her and frowned, “because you were in love with her. Why are you acting like you don’t know that?”

“I don’t - I didn’t. I’m in-,” Laura said.

She gave up and looked back down at the bar, tracing the whorls in the wood. Danny had broken up with her years ago. Years. Apparently because Danny thought she’d been in love with Carmilla.

Years ago.

“She’s my best friend.” Laura said.

“Which is exactly why I never stood a chance,” Danny said, “honestly, we were mostly surprised that it took this long for you guys to even get together. I lost a lot of money from your dawdling.” Laura raised an eyebrow and Danny continued, “Although, I suppose if you guys have been secretly together for a while then that changes the dates. Want to fill a girl in?”

“No.” Laura mumbled. She didn’t even know the dates anymore.

“Alright, I’ll play along,” Danny said, “why the sudden panic at the realization that you’re in love with Carmilla.”

Laura took a deep breath and finally looked up at Danny, “Do you remember that day in first year when we went out for pie and Laf managed to make a mini lightning storm inside a beaker before Perry got mad and yelled at them?”

Danny paused, frowned, and shook her head.

“The one where I ate, like, two whole pies.” Laura mumbled.

Danny snapped her fingers, “The one where you went to the bathroom like 3 times even though I told you that it was a terrible idea to drink that much pop.”

Laura was fairly certain that she was blushing at an event years in the past.

“And then,” Danny continued, “you spent the whole night raging about Carmilla and her ‘stupid face’ despite the inability to tell me why it was particularly stupid that evening.”

“I walked in on her and Ell,” Laura said, practically feeling her ears burn, “in a rather… compromising situation.”

Danny winced.

“She asked me to stay,” Laura said, not that the words had started they just poured out, “she threw on that flimsy red robe that she still has even though it’s like barely fabric and it totally cuts down really low at the boobs and it’s basically not like she’s wearing anything and I’ve told her she should just get a terrycloth one because they’re so cuddly.” Laura paused and refocused, “But she just had that on and she comes all slinky and sexy and slides up beside me and I didn’t know what to do. So I just stood there and she basically kissed my ear and it was so soft and she offered to send Ell away if I wanted to stay and keep her company instead.”

“And you left,” Danny cut in, “no wonder you were so mad at that pie.”

“I wanted to stay.” The second confession of the afternoon rolled of Laura’s lips, “I really really wanted to stay. Because Carmilla was hot and I’m really gay. I still really disliked her as a person but I also really wanted to stay.”

“I think,” Danny said, “that you can be forgiven for your gay weaknesses.”

Laura tapped her thumbs against the bar, “That’s what I thought too. That me wanting Carmilla was just because she’s hot and I’m gay and she’s really hot and that’s why I wanted to stay. Even when we became friends, I told myself that I only still wanted her because of the the hot vs gay quandary.” She paused and then said, “Except it’s not. And I don’t know when it changed because I was too busy telling myself it hadn’t but it did. Now even if Carmilla wasn’t wearing her robe but like a garbage bag and asked me to stay while we were sitting on the couch slurping noodles and she had a bunch in her teeth. I’d stay.”

Laura spun around on the stool, “I’d just stay because it’s her. The whole hot thing is just a bonus. I want her because she makes me laugh and she tells me not to eat so many cookies but then buys them for me and because she makes this funny snoring noise when she sleeps and because when she holds my hand it feels right and just being next to her is my favourite things even when we’re not doing anything. Plus a hundred other stupid reasons why she makes my stomach flip and my knees shake and I just want to kiss her and it’s got nothing to do with how hot her stupid face is.”

When she looked at Danny, her friend was smiling, “Well, sounds like you’ve got it figured out Hollis. You’re in love with her.”

“I’m in love with her.” Laura repeated. Her voice was almost breathless, the reality of the statement finally washing over her, “I’m in love with her.”

“Good thing,” Danny teased, “that you’re marrying her and everything.”

Laura’s hand shot out to fiddle with the ring on her finger, thinking of cupcakes and kisses and roses. Then she jumped to her feet, gave Danny a quick hug, and ran back outside.

Back to Carmilla.

Carmilla was looking down at her phone but her gaze jumped to the door the second Laura stepped back onto the patio. For a moment, something like relief filtered across Carmilla’s face when she saw Laura then it disappeared. “Mother’s in Alberta for the next few day,” Carmilla said, “hopefully this will have all been forgotten by the time she returns.”

Laura chose to ignore it, unwilling to quite be done with Mrs Karnstein’s treatment of Carmilla. But that wasn’t important now.

She plucked the previously purchased rose from Carmilla’s bag and dropped to one knee in front of her best friend. Carmilla’s calm look disappeared entirely, eyes basically bulging out of her head.

“Laura.” Carmilla started, “What are you-”

“Go on a date with me,” Laura said, holding out the rose.

She was in love with Carmilla. She had no idea if Carmilla was in love with her.

But Laura Hollis wasn’t about to let the girl she loved get away without finding out.

Carmilla was gaping like a startled fish and any doubts Laura may have had about the whole ‘being in love with Carmilla’ thing vanished as she thought how cute it looked and how much she wanted to kiss it off Carmilla’s face.

“Go on a date with me,” Laura repeated, “As my girlfriend, fiancee, best friend, whatever-we-are. Go on a date with me.”

Hesitantly, Carmilla reached out and took the flower for a second time. Her mouth had closed but something in her eyes sparkled as she looked down at Laura and then at the rose and then back to Laura, “Why?” Carmilla asked softly.

“Because I’d like to go on a date with you,” Laura said, “and I’m hoping that you’d like to go on a date with me.”

Carmilla said nothing.

So Laura began to panic, “Unless of course you don’t want to which then yeah, totally don’t. And we can just forget this and I know you said that I can’t be romantic but I thought that maybe I could try and be romantic. And it’s been a really weird afternoon so if you don’t want to go on a date that’s okay. Well. I mean. It’s not ideal because I’d like to go on a date. Obviously. Cause I’m asking. But don’t let that affect anything because you should just do what you want and maybe-”

“Yes.”

It was Laura’s turn to gape slightly, “What?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes but there was still a smile poking at her lips, “You asked me to go out with you. I said yes. Excellent start on this whole ‘romance thing’, cupcake.”

Laura couldn’t help the smile that cracked itself across her face. She couldn’t help the way she lunged forward to wrap Carmilla in a hug. She couldn’t stop the giggle from leaking into Carmilla’s hair as Laura buried her face in Carmilla’s neck. Frankly she didn’t want to. She pulled back, practically sitting on Carmilla lap, and said, “Trust me. I’m going to romance you so hard. All the romantic things. All of them. Sweep you right off your feet.”

Carmilla bit her lip and although Laura knew it was Carmilla’s way of stopping her own laughter, that knowledge did nothing to keep Laura from wanting to kiss the laugh right out. Instead, she just booped Carmilla on the nose.

“Excellent seduction technique,” Carmilla said, “careful or I might fall in love with you.”

Whether the date was real or part of their fake routine, she’d take it. Carmilla had said yes. She was all Laura’s for a day. Laura’s to woo and romance and love.

Laura rolled her eyes, “You like it.”

She hadn’t expected the smile to break across Carmilla’s face, “I do.”

She was in love with Carmilla Karnstein.

Hopefully, she could get Carmilla Karnstein to fall in love with her.

Chapter Text

She was going on a date. With Laura Hollis. Tiny, nerdy, dorky, fake-fiancee, best friend, and girl-she-was-in-love-with Laura Hollis. A first date with Laura Hollis. After 10 years of friendship.

No big deal.

Carmilla’s entire wardrobe was thrown across her bed, her vanity had been torn apart because she couldn’t find her earrings until she discovered they were already in her ears, and her bathroom looked like someone had blown it up.

But no big deal.
It was probably fake anyway. Just a part of their cover story. Engaged couples still went on dates.

Still. Probably.

Probably not a real date left the possibility that maybe it was a real date.

Carmilla ran her hand through her hair as she stood in the kitchen and stared at the front door. Her hand came back down to land on the dark coat she had waiting on the counter, neatly lined up with her leather gloves and purse. She straightened them again, hands keeping busy.

Finally there was a knock at the door.

Carmilla frowned and moved towards it. She flicked a switch on the keypad next to the door and a tiny screen popped to life. Laura was waiting on the other side of the door and Carmilla didn’t even bother stopping her smile. Laura was rocking back and forth on her heels with her hands tucked behind her back. Her lip was caught between her teeth, just barely poking out from the yellow scarf wrapped around her neck.

Hufflepuff pride, Laura had insisted.

Carmilla hit the speaker button, “Even I didn’t think that you could lose your key 3 times, cupcake.”

Laura jumped, eyes going wide before they narrowed at the camera, “That was so not my fault. I told you that. The squirrel had it out for me.”

Carmilla hit the speaker button again just so Laura could hear her snicker.

“Besides, “ Laura said, pouting, “I didn’t lose my key this time. I knocked intentionally because I’m picking you up for our date. I’m not just going to barge in. That’s not romantic.”

“And Hufflepuff scarves are?”

“This scarf,” Laura said, “is the best scarf. So yes. Totally romantic.”

Shaking her head, Carmilla opened the door. Laura’s smile through the screen was one thing, her in-person smile was a whole other. For a moment, their eyes caught and held.

“Hey,” Laura said.

“Hey.”

Then Laura whipped her hands out from behind her back, clasped between her fingers was a bouquet of roses. “For you,” Laura said.

Carmilla just stared at them. Then she turned, walking back into the kitchen on autopilot and grabbing a vase.

“Carm?” Laura called.

Did she even know what type of roses those were?

She heard Laura take a step into the apartment and say, “Did I get the right kind? I tried to remember and I went down to that flower shop on the canal because all of the reviews said that they had the best flowers except Roberto wasn’t in and everyone said he’s the best. So I had his son call him at home and then he came in because I promised to blog on his shop. And then I had to convince them to give me the Enchantress roses because that’s what you said were the best for you but I don’t actually know what Enchantress roses look like so I have no idea if they ripped off or not.”

Apparently so.

Carmilla turned, vase in hand, and found Laura standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Laura’s brow was crunched and her cheeks were full of colour. Her gaze locked on Carmilla with worry flickering behind the pupils.

The roses gripped tightly between her fingers.

Gently, Carmilla reached out and extracted the flowers before Laura could crush the stems. She put them in the vase and adjusted them slightly, fingers lingering across the petals.

“Carm?” Laura said. Quietly. Too quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Carmilla said. Then she covered herself by continuing, “Don’t worry. They’re Enchantress. You’re getting full romance points on the door opening portion of our date. Whether you fair as well on the rest of it, we’ll have to see.” Carmilla said with a smirk, “I’m a hard girl to please.”

There was nothing Laura Hollis liked better than a challenge and as expected, her best friend’s eyes lit up. Then the fire darkened to a smoulder and before Carmilla could take her hands off the flowers, Laura was lurking right by her ear.

“Well, Miss Karnstein,” Laura said. The hair’s on Carmilla’s arm immediately shot up. Laura’s words practically oozed desire, “You’ve never had a girl like me try and please you.”

Carmilla spun around, facing Laura. Practically chest to chest with nothing but a yellow scarf between then. Touching a little more with every inhale as flower petals brushed at her back. Drawing her shoulders, Carmilla took a step forward and let a smirk slip out when Laura squeeked, letting herself be back against the fridge.

But this wasn’t a real date.

Probably.

She didn’t miss Laura’s eyes focused on her lips.

Probably not.

Carmilla didn’t take a step back. She didn’t take a step forward. Instead, she simply reached behind her and grabbed her coat. Without looking away from Laura, she slowly slid it on. Tracking every hitch in Laura’s breath. Every flicker of her gaze.

One moment of courage.

Probably. Probably not.

She just had to figure out which.

“Well then, Miss Hollis,” Carmilla said once her coat was buttoned all the way, “Please me.”

She didn’t miss Laura’s swallow at the rasp in her tone even if it was almost lost by Laura leaping forward, grabbing her arm, and dragging her from the apartment. She saw it.

And as they made their way into the elevator, where there was no-one to see them, Laura tucked herself into Carmilla’s side as she talked a mile a minute about the underground flower economy of Ottawa.

This wasn’t a date.

Carmilla took Laura’s hand.

Probably.

#

She was in love with Laura Hollis but that didn’t mean she was about to do this. No way. Not even for a first date.

“Laura. No.” Carmilla said for what felt like the fifteenth time.

“Okay,” Laura said, “I know it’s cheesy but it’s also like level 10 romantic. Please?”

Laura was standing in front of her, snuggled into that ridiculous hufflepuff scarf, cheeks red and arms held out wide as she showed off her grand scheme. Wind soared off the familiar lake behind her, making her hair dance.

Swan boats.

She’d brought Carmilla back to the cheesy plastic swan-shaped pedal boats.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said, eyeing the boats, “it’s the middle of winter. The canal is frozen. That water is cold and you really want to go paddling out into the middle of it?”

“Yupp,” Laura said, “Look, there are already other people out there. We’ll be fine.” Turning Laura patted the plastic head of a giant black swan, “I even picked your favourite colour.”

The nearby florescent pink swan was worse. Slightly. But worse. She wouldn’t even be considering setting foot into the pink one. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering setting foot in the black one.

Laura jumped into the boat and the whole thing teetered uneasily, “Come on, Carm.” Laura said, “please?”

One day Carmilla was going to find a way to say no to those big brown eyes.

She trudged over to the boat.

This was not that day.

“If we fall in and die,” Carmilla said, “at least it will have been for a good cause. Plastic cheesy swan boats.”

Grinning like a loon, Laura held out a mitten-clad hand to help Carmilla into the boat. It rocked at the change in weight and Carmilla cursed when she stumbled. But any further complaints died on her tongue when Laura’s other hand caught her around the waist and pulled her close to steady her.

Laura didn’t let go of her hand until Carmilla was settled in the seat. The warmth barely faded from her leather gloves before Laura was pressed up against her side on the tiny bench. Her feet easily found the pedals, slipping into the straps as Laura found the other pair. With every revolution Laura made Carmilla’s feet turned along with it, following the flip of the pedals.

“You gotta actually push!” Laura said, elbowing her in the side.

“But you’re doing such a good job,” Carmilla said. She shut her eyes and fought the smile as she could practically feel Laura’s pout. Carmilla let her legs slip further, practically dangling loosely.

“Come on, lazy legs,” Laura said, “this is a team effort.”

Carmilla faked a yawn, “I hate teams.”

“But you like me.” Laura said, “And I’m the team.”

Carmilla opened one eye to find that Laura had managed to move them a fair distance away from shore. “Do I?” she said.

“I like to think so,” Laura said. Then she added, “I certainly like you.”

This wasn’t a date. Probably. But Laura’s smile was small and shy and Carmilla didn’t know what to do with that particular smile.

“Well I should hope so,” Carmilla said, “Or do you often date girls you dislike?”

Laura’s eyes flickered but then she shook her head and smiled, “Naw. Those ones I just marry. I save my dates for the really important ones.”

“So what does that make me?” Carmilla asked, “I seem to tick both categories there cupcake. You might have to revise your system. Can I suggest another powerpoint? They’re always riveting.”

Silence was one of Carmilla’s favourite sounds. It was still and comforting and safe. However, silence born of Laura opening and then closing her mouth and then opening it again without saying a word was a different sort altogether.

“Uh oh,” Carmilla said, sitting up to try and cover the frown on her face, “I think I broke my partner.” She tapped Laura lightly on the chin, closing her mouth.

“You’re Carmilla.” Laura said at last, Carmilla’s leather gloves still brushing her chin, “I don’t think you fit into a powerpoint.”

Carmilla’s hand slid up, fingertips tracing up Laura’s jaw bone to rest on the tips of her cheeks. Her thumb resting just outside the corner of Laura’s mouth. One movement and she could brush Laura’s lips with her thumb. One moment of courage and she could brush Laura’s lips with her lips.

The memories burned in Carmilla’s mind of softness and vanilla and hot chocolate and pink.

Laura’s swallowed hard under her gaze.

But this wasn’t a date. Probably.

So her hand dropped away and she pulled back with easy words, “Always knew I was uncategorizable. Glad to hear it confirmed.”

The response took a moment in coming. Then Laura said, “Oh please. Don’t act like such a badass. You’ve been pedalling since I called you lazy legs. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

So she was. Legs actually pushing alongside Laura instead of just flopping along. Actually putting in effort. Couldn’t have that. So Carmilla reached down beside her and grabbed the little handle that, if pulled, made them go nowhere but left.

Laura spent the next five minutes mixed between shrieking and laughing as Carmilla sent them in nowhere but circles. Her arms easily wrapped around Laura’s waist when Laura tried to dive across her to grab it herself, shouting that ‘she had a plan and so help her Carmilla Karnstein if they didn’t get there’.

With Laura, laughing was almost easy.

Once she finally gave Laura back control of the steering, Laura immediately turned the boat and peddled furiously in one direction on the far side of the water. Eventually the shoreline came back into view. They were headed towards a mooring house for boats. The building was made entirely of glass but time had worn on the panes, allowing moss to grow up from the water and coat the ridges between the panes in dark greens and black streaks.

Carmilla didn’t say a word as they drifted into the building. The wooden docks were long abandoned, sagging slightly as Laura looped a rope around to hold them steady. Then, she twisted the boat and they were facing back the way they came.

Her breath caught.

The setting sun was pouring orange through the black-streaked glass, creating a beautiful mess of light and shadow. Green and orange. The sunbeams seemed to flicker like stars as they fought through the mossy patches to land on their little plastic boat.

To land on Laura.

Coating her face in pinpricks of sunlight and shadow that danced when she moved. Laura laughed in delight and it was like shooting stars had been written across her skin or the giggle had found a way to make itself tangible, crawling from her mouth in the visible exhale of her cold breath.

“It’s so pretty,” Laura said. “I was a little worried because I didn’t get a chance to check this out first myself but my source said that it was worth the ride and I knew that you’d find the boats cheesy and silly so I really wanted it to pay off. I thought about getting actual swans as a back-up plan because you secretly love the notebook but apparently they don’t like the cold so I couldn’t get them but this is totally amazing. Right, Carm?”

“Yeah,” Carmilla said softly, “Amazing.”

They were caught somewhere between night and day, stars and sunlight, and Laura’s hand had somehow become tangled with hers. They simply sat and watched, letting the sun dip lower in the sky and changing the shape of the sunlight patterns cutting through the glass.

Laura bumped her lightly with her shoulder, “That one looks like a bunny.”

Carmilla squinted at it. The green blob of moss vaguely resembled something misshapen, “I think you need your eyes checked.”

“20-20 vision here,” Laura said, “thank you very much.” She pointed to another one, “And that one kind of looks like a giant fish.”

“Isn’t this a game for clouds?” Carmilla said.

“Shhhhhhhhhh,” Laura said, “we’re imagining.” Laura was looking at her, hand still attached to Carmilla’s and a big grin on her face, “You can’t tell me you don’t see anything. Come on. Pretend it’s university again and I’ve dragged you out to the quad and made you stare at clouds with me.”

“I got a reward if I played along,” Carmilla pointed out, “And you don’t seem to have the study notes to our biology exam in this boat.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry. You’ll still get a reward for playing.”

Carmilla couldn’t help it. She dropped her tone and husked straight into Laura’s ear, “A reward, cutie? Do I get to choose what I want? Because I have all kinds of ideas about that.” She lingered by Laura’s ear, watching as the skin pebbled from her breath. Feeling Laura’s hand tighten around her own.

She was expecting to Laura to pull away. To roll her eyes. To smack her in the shoulder. To fluster and change the topic. Instead, Laura slowly turned to face her so that the tips of their noses were lightly touching. Cold disappearing immediately.

Laura shook her head and their noses brushed again, “You are something else.” Laura said, “You know that?” Her breath was warm on Carmilla’s lips. Nothing but that breath between them.

“A trident,” Carmilla said. She pulled back from Laura and sank back into her side of the boat.

This wasn’t a real date. Probably.

“What?” Laura said, eyes almost glazed over. Carmilla made a point not to notice.

Carmilla kept her eyes on the sunset and pointed to a patch of moss, “I’ll play your game cupcake. Looks like one of Kirsch’s idiotic zeta tridents.”

“Oh.” Laura looked over, “Yeah. I guess it does.”

They traded imaginations for a moment longer. The fish is actually an anglerfish. It’s going to eat the bunny. Carmilla, anglerfish don’t eat bunnies. I thought we were imagining cupcake. Doesn’t mean it isn’t realistic.

The conversation moved from stilted to the easy flow that Carmilla was used to.

Eventually Laura reached into the back of the boat and flipped open a compartment that Carmilla hadn’t realized was there. “I promised you a reward,” Laura said, “And a Hollis never backs down on her word.”

She pulled a paper bag and a laptop from the compartment with a flourish. Then she dropped the bag on Carmilla’s lap, “Dinner is served.”

Cheeseburgers. Slightly warm, low-quality cheeseburgers.

Carmilla covered her smile by taking a bite, “What happened to the romancing?”

“Come on,” Laura said, “Crappy cheeseburgers are like our thing. I just couldn’t get the usual ones because Toronto is kind of far away. I totally get nostalgia points on the romance scale.”

“Oh yes,” Carmilla said, “because grimy and sleepless college days are exactly what I’m looking to relive on my dates.”

“Romance!” Laura objected, “Total romance. It shows we have shared history and that I remember things about you.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “And I don’t suppose, as my best friend, that we’d have either shared history or a past.”

“Thus the swans,” Laura said, “The swan boat is new.”

“Still not impressing me, Hollis.” Carmilla said, wondering if her smirk was somewhat diluted by the cheeseburger stuffed in her mouth.

Laura whipped open the lid of the laptop, “Which is why a Hollis always comes prepared!” She hit some keys, muttering about wifi, but eventually set down the computer with a triumphant “HA!”

Carmilla sat straight up, eyes caught on the screen.

“How’s that for romance?” Laura crowed.

It was a live feed of a zoo with a black panther lazing for the camera. She knew that panther. She’d spent hours at the zoo sketching that panther.

“That’s…” Carmilla said.

“Bagheera, Yeah.” Laura triumphant smile turned back into the soft one.

“But she’s not at the zoo anymore,” Carmilla said, “they transferred her.”

“Mmhmm,” Laura said, “to that conversation place in Africa and then she got transferred again and then they lost their funding and it took some tracing but she’s back in the US now. So I got one of my contacts down there to set this up for me. Live feed. Owe them a bucket of poutine and an exclusive interview.”

Carmilla didn’t know what to do with her eyes, bouncing between the screen and the girl beside her. “You,” she didn’t even care about the waver in her voice, “you tracked her down?”

“I know she was your favourite, Carm,” Laura said as though it was the simplest thing, “And she was there for you even when I couldn’t be. She’s important to you.”

There was nothing to say.

When Laura tugged on her arm, Carmilla didn’t stop her. She let Laura snuggle into her side, laptop resting on their knees, as Carmilla’s arm came up and around Laura. The sunset still filtered through the glass around them. Just them. Carmilla’s smile free to sit on her face as she leaned her cheek against the top of Laura’s head.

One moment of courage. She lightly planted a kiss on Laura’s hair then rested her cheek again as Laura gave a deep exhale and snuggled closer.

This wasn’t a date. Probably.

But it sure felt like one.

Especially when Laura pulled one last thing out of the back compartment and pressed it into her hand while Bagheera played in a pool of water.

A tiny cupcake with dark blue icing and silver star sprinkles.

####

With the last rays of the sun lighting up the water, they pedalled back to shore. They made quick time without Carmilla constantly sabotaging the steering and pulled the boat ashore just as the last light was flickering away to be replaced by stars.

Laura’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked at it then bit her lip, looking up at Carmilla.

“Go for it,” Carmilla said.

“I’ll be quick,” Laura promised. She hit the button and put it to her ear.

Carmilla took her time collecting the remains of their dinner from the swan boat. The laptop. The burger wrappers. The cupcake case. When Laura wasn’t looking, she even patted the plastic swan lightly on the head. Black swans really were the best kind.

When she made it to where Laura was standing, Laura was just hanging up the phone. Her eyes were far away as Carmilla could practically see her brain spinning. She knew that look. In a minute, Laura would be bounding off to go dig into something.

Instead, Laura took a deep breath and pocketed the phone, aggressively shoving it into her coat.

“Onto Part 2?” she said.

Carmilla paused and said, “Wasn’t that one of your contacts?”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “So? We’ve got a date. I’ll chase it later.”

“You’re putting it off?” Carmilla blurted.

Laura frowned and took a step closer to her, “Well. yeah.” she said, “I promised you the night.”

Carmilla opened her mouth. Then closed it.

Laura tilted her head to the side and grinned, “I mean, don’t think that I’m not going to go after it tomorrow. You’re cute Karnstien. But a girl has to eat. Pay the bills.”

Laura had to learn to stop with the innuendos. This wasn’t a date. Probably.

But just in case. There was nothing better than a flustered Laura Hollis.

“That doesn’t have to be something done separately cupcake,” Carmilla practically purred,taking a step closer and winding her fingers in Laura’s scarf “in fact, I’d prefer if we did any eating together.”

“We just had hamburg-” Laura started. Carmilla could see the exact moment the penny dropped as colour bloomed over Laura’s face. “Oh. OH!”

“Mmhmmm,” Carmilla hummed.

Laura went to say something but Carmilla reached out and tucked a piece of Laura’s hair back behind her ear. Letting her thumb linger on Laura’s earlobe before whisking away, she said, “I could just eat you alive.”

Whatever Laura had meant to say, the words never came. Laura was left just staring at Carmilla’s face, mouth slightly open as little puffs of cold air burst from her lips. Carmilla’s eyes were locked on them. She knew an excellent way to warm Laura up and her own lips tingled at the idea.

A genuine smile fell over Carmilla’s face as her eyes dropped from Laura’s lips. She reached out and tightened Laura’s scarf a little more, adding warmth, “Problem cupcake?”

Finally Laura huffed and squinted at her, “You can’t just say things like that.”

Because this wasn’t a date.

No kissing.

Carmilla fought to keep her face from falling. She looked at Laura and shrugged, giving the girl a wink. Part 2 was probably a bad idea. She was getting caught up in this enough as it was. Giving a big, overdramatic sigh, Carmilla said, “What’s the lead?”

“What?” Laura asked.

“The lead on your phone call,” Carmilla said. Laura gave her a look and Carmilla rolled her eyes. “You really think I’m going to watch you try and not think about it all night? Let’s go scare some reporter or spy on a politician or whatever it is.”

She’d had her panther and swan boats and sunsets. That was more than she deserved. Far more.

The smile on Laura’s face was almost worth it, “Really?”

“Really.”

Laura grabbed her hand, pulling her along. Smiling all the while. If this was all Carmilla could have, this was enough.

#

They broke into an office building. Of course they did. It could never be simple like accosting a judge in a bathroom when Laura got that look in her eye. She’d first discovered it in their third month as roommates when she’d actually decided tightly wound Laura Hollis wasn’t all bad. Laura’s jaw had set and her eyes had burned as she talked about missing girls on campus. The first time Carmilla had noticed, she hadn’t gone with Laura.

Laura had come back with a scratch on her forehead and a ginger giant following her around like a puppy after rescuing her from a library. Something in Carmilla’s stomach had twisted slightly, continuing even after the scratch had disappeared from Laura’s head.

So the second time, Carmilla had grabbed a baseball bat and trailed after her.

This time Laura had brought her own supplies as they crouched by the back door of an office building.

“Hold this,” Laura said, shoving her purse at Carmilla after pulling a dark case from it.

Carmilla fumbled to grab it and by the time she looked back up, Laura had a lock pick between her teeth and another one in the door. Breaking and entering. Laura Hollis. Who had clearly done this before. Heat shot through Carmilla as she watched Laura neatly jiggle the lock. Face bunched in concentration before the door clicked open.

Her imagination doing all kinds of things it shouldn’t on a not-date.

“You have lock picks,” Carmilla said.

“Needed a hobby,” Laura said.

“YOU have lock picks,” Carmilla repeated, “To break the law.”

Laura shrugged, “In the name of justice.” Then her face turned a little more sly, “They also come in handy when I lose the key for the handcuffs.”

Without another word Laura skipped inside, leaving Carmilla standing outside with Laura’s purse in her hands and mind stuck on the word handcuffs. Eventually, she ambled after Laura who seemed to know exactly where she was going, already thumbing through someone’s desk drawer.

Carmilla didn’t even bother getting involved. She just leaned against a filing cabinet and shuffled through Laura’s purse, pocketing the candy.

Finally, Laura came back over to her and Carmilla looked up. The smile on Laura’s face was gone, replaced with something much more contemplative. Almost sad. Almost angry.

“Get what you need cupcake?” Carmilla asked.

Laura nodded. She took Carmilla’s hand and interlocked their fingers, clinging tightly as she led Carmilla back out of the building. They started walking. For a few minutes, Carmilla thought Laura was leading her somewhere but eventually it became apparent that they were just going in circles. Carmilla stopped Laura on a bridge over the canal, water frozen over to ice as skaters swept beneath them. Illuminated by nothing but streetlights and softly falling snow.

Laura didn’t fight her stopping them. She swung around, still holding Carmilla’s hand and popped up so that she was sitting on the edge of the bridge. The wide piece of concrete gave her plenty of room from the far ledge. Carmilla let herself be pulled in, standing between Laura’s knees and looking slightly up.

Fiddling with their fingers, Laura’s said nothing. Brow scrunched and chin nuzzled into her scarf as her eyes were somewhere far away. Extracting a hand, Carmilla reached up and brushed her thumb against the wrinkle between Laura’s eyebrows. Smoothing it away.

“Alright,” Carmilla said, “What’s wrong?”

Laura met her gaze. Then she sighed, breath ghosting into the cold air, and said, “Can you tell me about your mother?”

The sarcasm snapped into place, “Wow. Stellar date material there. My mother is exactly what I want to be thinking about in conjunction with romance.”

“Carm.” Laura cut her off.

Carmilla ran her free hand through her hair and sagged against the bridge. Laura’s legs gripped a little tighter, warming her sides. “What about my mother?” Carmilla asked.

“The nightmares.” Laura said and Carmilla immediately stiffened, only Laura’s hand around hers keeping her from fleeing. “You never talk about them but they’ve gotten worse and I know that they’ve got something to do with her and you don’t have to tell me but I’d like to know.”

Carmilla closed her eyes. The world was quiet and loud at the same time. The slide of skates over ice, the rumbling of cars over roads, and the inhale and exhale of Laura’s every breath. In another life, she might have been able to hear each snowflake land on its final resting place. A drop of snow come home.

When she opened her eyes, there was a snowflake sitting on the tip of Laura’s nose.

She fixed her eyes on the tiny white flake and said, “I was afraid of thunderstorms as a kid. Mother, well, she wasn’t one to pander to irrational fears of things that were incapable of hurting us and had little patience for my tears during storms. Karnstein’s were stronger than that, she’d say, and I was a Karnstein.”

The snowflake almost seemed to glow against Laura’s skin. Carmilla’s eyes stayed on it and Laura’s hands captured both of her own, rubbing softly.

“There was an event at the end of my father’s last campaign and Mother decided that I should speak at it. I was maybe 7. Perhaps she thought it would be good for his image, having a child speak for him. William was too young to read her notes and Mattie was still a foster so it had to be me.” Carmilla wondered if her hands would be shaking if not for Laura’s hands surrounding them.

“I practiced for days,” Carmilla said, “carried her note cards with me until they started turning brown from use. I had it perfect. We rehearsed. She was so proud. Called me her glittering girl and how all of her hard work was going to pay off. She bought me a new dress. I was so happy because she was home and smiling. Then we got to the stage and the spotlight went on and-”

Her voice died, too clogged with memories for words. Air too cold to speak through as she shivered. Something warm settled around her neck and yellowed flashed in the corners of her vision as Laura wound the Hufflepuff scarf around Carmilla’s neck. Mittens somehow gone, her bare fingers brushed Carmilla’s face as they adjusted the fabric.

Then Laura tugged on the scarf, pulling Carmilla closer until this time it was Carmilla cradled against Laura’s chest and head tucked under Laura’s chin. Laura’s hands rubbed gentle circles on her back as Carmilla’s fists clung to Laura’s coat without her express permission.

“I froze,” Carmilla whispered into Laura’s collarbones, “I forgot everything. Not a word came out in front of thousands of people. My mother walked out, smiling, and ushered me off-stage to make the speech herself. I apologized. I thought it was fine. Then we got home. There was a storm scheduled that night and my mother knew it. She didn’t lay a hand on me. She told me it was okay. That she didn’t care if I’d messed everything up because I was her glittering girl and I could do better. She told me to get one of her binders and we’d go over everything. She kept them in this closet in the basement. I rushed down to get it and before I could, the closet door locked behind me.”

Laura’s fingers tightened on her back. Then went back to circles.

“It was pitch black,” Carmilla said, “no light under the door. Nothing. I shouted for Mama but she was already right there. She told me that she didn’t care that I’d messed up, that I was her glittering girl, but clearly someone else cared. That the gods were angry because I’d ruined everything. She left me in there. And the storm came.”

That closet. That closet. Carmilla forced herself to take deep breathes. There had hardly been room to move in there it was so packed full of books and every sound had reverberated a hundred times over off the unfinished walls and exposed pipes.

But right now everything smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and Hufflepuff scarves.

“I screamed,” Carmilla said, “until my voice was gone but she never let me out. Not until the next morning and the storm went all night. I don’t think I slept. There was nowhere to sit. Then she came to get me and wrapped me up in a blanket and held me close and made me pancakes and told me that she was sorry that it had to happen. That if I was a good girl, it wouldn’t happen again. But I kept messing up and I kept going back. So eventually, even when I wasn’t there, I saw it.”

Laura’s lips were in her hair, brushing softly. Pressing and then pulling away, over and over again. Carmilla sagged against her a little deeper.

“You’re amazing.” Laura whispered the words into her hair, “and you didn’t deserve that and I’m so proud of you.”

Carmilla said nothing, voice having run out of words, and shook her head against Laura’s chest.

“I mean it,” Laura said, lips still brushing her forehead on every pass, “you are incredible.”

She didn’t have the energy to argue so Carmilla just stayed still, letting Laura hold her and whisper words she couldn’t believe into her hair.

Yellow scarf around her neck.

Eventually Carmilla pulled back, looking up at Laura without detaching their hands. Somehow, inexplicably and unexpected, in a way that could only be due to the magic of Laura Hollis, there was another snowflake on the tip of her nose. Or maybe the same one, resilient.

Carmilla didn’t know.

Carmilla didn’t care.

One moment of courage.

She moved in slowly and kissed the tip of Laura’s nose. Soft and cold and red and silly in the night air. Her lips barely grazing the flesh before pulling back and then coming in to do it a second time. Just in case.

Then she leaned back to just look.

The red spread. The tip of Laura’s nose blossoming outwards to coat first her cheeks and then travel down her neck, bare without her scarf.

And somehow, as she watched the blush, a smile cracked inexplicably over Carmilla’s face, “Why Miss Hollis,” she said, “you act as though you’ve never had a beautiful girl kiss your nose before.”

The blush only grew as Laura looked down, “Shut up.” she mumbled.

“And here I thought you were the one romancing me,” Carmilla said, “yet somehow you’re the one doing all the blushing.”

Laura looked up. Her eyes narrowed at exactly the same time her smile grew. She bounced off the bridge and linked her arm in Carmilla’s, “Date Part 2.” she proclaimed, “Improvised but still maximum romance.”

“Oh really?” Carmilla said.

“Really,” Laura said. Then she leaned over and whispered in Carmilla’s ear, “I know what you like, remember?”

#

Laura tied her skates for her. Regardless of the fact that Carmilla was perfectly capable of lacing her own skates. Regardless of the fact that Carmilla wore figure skating skates and Laura wore hockey skates and they laced up different. Regardless of the fact that these were rental skates and you could get them to do it for you if you needed it.

Laura still pushed Carmilla onto a bench, knelt to the ground, put Carmilla’s foot between her legs, and started lacing her skates. For maximum romance.

Romance was not the word Carmilla would have used.

She almost combusted.

So naturally, once her skates were done, she stood up and swung Laura around. Laura’s wide eyes as Carmilla tied her skates an excellent piece of revenge.

All thoughts of revenge fled once they were on the ice. The Rideau Canal was one of the best parts of living in Ottawa, a little touristy perhaps, but strapping on a pair of skates and moving down the ice throughout the winding city was one of the best feelings in the world. Illuminated by nothing but streetlights with puffy snowflakes falling all around them, it was always something out of a fairytale.

Tonight especially, Laura’s hand in hers as they went.

They started slowly, hands clasped together as they took a leisurely pace down the ice. The whisk whisk of their blades over the smooth surface a comforting sound with so much hanging around them. But she was moving on ice, always moving, and there was no time for those things to catch her. Just the girl beside her and the wind blowing her hair out of her face and a woolen yellow scarf around her neck.

The ice was busy but never full. Families skating together, toddlers wobbling on their first set of skates as they clung to larger hands. Enthusiastic eight year olds racing and then tripping. Only to get up laughing. The high stone walls of the canal leaving them only with the tips of the city in their vision, passing under bridges. People skating alone, leisurely enjoying the night sky.

The way the stars twinkled overhead.

Carmilla tilted her head back to take it all in. The twinkle of stars mixing with the gentle descent of snowflakes as the yellow glow of streetlights sent tiny beams swirling between them. Tying it all together like strokes in a Van Gogh painting. Starry night.

There was a giggle in her ear and she looked down at Laura just in time to be pulled out of the way of colliding into another couple.

Another couple.

As though they were one as well.

“Careful,” Laura was still giggling, “I don’t mind being your eyes and I know the stars are pretty but I’d probably lose romance points if I let you trip over your silly toe pick.”

It was a continuing point of argument whether figure skates or hockey skates were better. The one time Laura had tried figure skates, she’d tripped over the pick and busted her head. Her father had made her wear helmets for years.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “My skates are elegant. Yours make you skate like you’re a lumbering football player.” It was true. She didn’t even understand how hockey skates got forward momentum like that.

Laura pouted.

“A cute football player,” Carmilla caved.

And Laura smiled.

And it was easy to believe that they were just another couple.

It was still easy when moments later, they were stopping at one of the stands along the canal. Laura practically bouncing up and down as she ordered two beaver tails. One cinnamon. One chocolate. She took the pastries carefully, splitting them in half down the middle and holding up a piece for Carmilla to bite. Fingers brushing Carmilla’s chin as she took the offered piece.

Then Laura crammed half of her half into her mouth, cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk as she chewed. Leaving chocolate on her face for Carmilla’s fingers to wipe away.

Just a dizzying mix of chocolate and snowflakes and Laura Hollis.

Laura was trying to speak around the mouthful of food but Carmilla was hardly listening even if the words had been intelligible. She just stared at Laura. Her best friend. The girl she loved. Standing in-front of her on a pair of skates as snowflakes landed in her hair and the streetlights created a halo behind her head. Setting her on fire despite the cold.

Carmilla closed her eyes against the image.

When she opened them again, she could see it. It was so easy and so simple. She could see a reality, so close but untouchable, where this was a real date. Where Laura’s hand was always in hers and she could just pull Laura close and not have to worry about what it meant. Where she could kiss that chocolate from her face instead of wiping it off. There’d be snow around them and lights glistening and she could tell Laura that she looked like an angel.

Because Laura was her fiancee. Because they were in love.

Her chest ached and her lungs hurt and it was so easy and it shouldn’t have been.

But it was.

Because it was Laura.

There was a ring on Laura’s finger and despite the gloves Carmilla’s left hand felt cold without a matching ring to warm it up. But it wasn’t a matching pair. Because this wasn’t real. Because she loved Laura. But had never told her.

Because Laura didn’t love her.

Probably.

But it could be. Somewhere, in some other universe born of time and philosophy, Carmilla would be able to reach out and hold Laura’s hand so that their rings would clink together. Where this was a date just before their wedding. Where her hands would never shake because there was always someone to hold them still. Where Laura would be frazzled about wedding arrangements and Carmilla would have a white dress waiting back in her closet.

A secret calendar to mark down the days in excitement.

The one she had now was in fear. The day Laura would be gone again.

Because Laura didn’t love her.

And Carmilla couldn’t tell her.

It was fake.

She closed her eyes again, cutting off the images. No tears. She was a Karnstein and she did not wear distress on her face. But that didn’t stop her lungs from burning. That was okay. No-one could see your lungs burn.

Except, Laura’s hand had come back around hers. Holding them so carefully and warming up even the coldness of her left hand. The scratch of a Hufflepuff scarf still a reminder under Carmilla’s chin.

“Carm?” Laura said.

Carmilla didn’t move. Didn’t respond. She had no interest in forcing herself to live in the daydream she couldn’t have or the reality that she did. She couldn’t open her eyes again and see Laura standing there in the snow and the light and stay where she was.

Stay away from her.

There was stillness for a moment and Carmilla could feel Laura’s eyes on her. She felt, rather than saw, Laura step closer. The lines of her body somehow so familiar.

“Carm,” Laura whispered at last. Then a hesitant hand tapped her cheek, “Race you!”

And Laura was gone, Carmilla heard her skates catch on the ice as she tried not to trip while leaping away. She opened her eyes, immediately zeroing in on the back of Laura’s head. Still snowflakes. No halo.

A giggle drifting back to her that curled the corners of Carmilla’s mouth upward.

Carmilla chased her.

How could she not?

Wind whipping her hair behind her, Carmilla dug her skates into the ice and took off. The scuffle for purchase quickly becoming a smooth whoosh pattern as her feet moved easily under her. Hands behind her back. She kept her eyes on Laura who wasn’t moving as fast as Carmilla knew she could.

Silly, sweet, cupcake.

Then Laura turned her head, brown hair falling into her mouth, and her eyes met Carmilla’s. They widened when she saw Carmilla bearing down on her then narrowed as a smile split across her face. Then her face was gone again as she turned away, shoulders hunched as Laura took off even faster.

So Carmilla dug in. Dodging past a young boy, she bore down on Laura who was having some trouble getting around a large chain of people. With the wind biting her face, Carmilla reached out and flicked the hood of Laura’s coat up and onto her head.

“You’re going to have to do better than that sweetheart,” Carmilla called as she whipped by.

“That’s not fair!” Laura shouted at her back.

Carmilla spun around, skating backwards as she smirked at the huffing Hollis behind her. Laura batted her hood off her head and somehow managed to frown while smiling. Carmilla gave her a salute then moved her feet in an impressive figure eight pattern.

“Show-off,” Laura called.

Laura shot off to the left. Surprising Carmilla, she scrunched down and literally passed underneath the arms of the group ahead of her before racing ahead of Carmilla. Carmilla spun back around, pressing forward as the snowflakes flew past her face. Even watching where she was going, she kept the corner of her eye on Laura.

It was like they were drawn together by an invisible string, every time Laura got too far ahead, Carmilla caught her. As soon as Carmilla thought she had her pace, Laura pulled her back. They weaved between crowds of people yet somehow still skating together, every action and reaction timed to match. The giggle from Laura meeting Carmilla’s smirk when she added a jump. Their eyes locking when Laura blew past her. Carmilla patting Laura on the head when she intentionally cut her off and got her stuck behind another group.

She felt Laura come up behind her before they even touched but she didn’t move away when Laura’s hands came sliding to her sides, using Carmilla to tow her along. Carmilla indulged her for a moment, really digging into keep her stride. Then she simply stopped.

She expected them to simply come to a slow halt.

The end of a date that she never should have gotten. Never allowed herself to believe in.

But this was Laura.

Laura changed it.

Instead, Laura twirled around and grabbed her hands, skating backwards to tug Carmilla along with her and taking the brunt of the effort. She let Carmilla be her eyes. So focused on Carmilla’s face that no words were said, the simple flicker of Carmilla’s eyes to the left or right enough to alter her direction.

Their pace gradually slowed as Laura moved in closer and Carmilla felt her stomach drop at the thought of stopping. Laura’s hands locked at Carmilla elbows as she pulled, holding tight. Carmilla’s felt her breath wash over Laura’s face, melting any snow that may have wanted to fall.

“You’re still sad,” Laura said in the space between them.

Their pace slowed further.

Then Laura stepped. She stepped forward and let one of her hands pull Carmilla’s hand to her waist while the other captured Carmilla’s in her own. Frozen breath ghosting across Carmilla’s face as she pressed them chest to chest. Faces a hairsbreadth apart. With her eyes open, Carmilla could see every snowflake that had melted on Laura’s skin.

The reflection of stars in her eyes.

They’d waltzed before but never like this.

With a gentle pressure they were moving. Spinning across the ice into something that felt familiar and yet wholly new at the same time. Moving was easy with Laura, a fluidity to their motions from years of practice. Every muscle and twitch an indication of where they were going. But with skates. Still the same steps. Still beautiful. But different.

So they danced. The skates whooshing under their feet as Laura never took her eyes off Carmilla.

This wasn’t a date.

Probably.

But Laura was in her arms and Carmilla’s eyes weren’t closed. They were whirling together over water that was solid in a dance meant for feet with snowflakes born of street lamps all around them. With a yellow scarf around her neck and roses in her apartment and stars in the sky and a girl she loved who never broke her gaze.

One moment of courage.

Carmilla raised her arm spun Laura around, smiling as she stumbled through the steps with a pick to spin on. Never letting her fall. When Laura spun back around, she somehow came in closer than before. All big brown eyes and a sparkle in her smile with melting snowflakes on her face and starlight in her hair. A waltz they didn’t know how to do under their feet. Movements suddenly so slow they were barely there.

But they were. They hadn’t stopped yet.

One moment of courage.

Carmilla’s hand slid up Laura’s arm to rest on her bare neck, thumb caressing the underside of her jaw. Skates still sliding slowly.

Carmilla kissed her. Carmilla moved down while Laura moved up and after so much time just missing each other, their lips finally slotted together. There was no surprise from Laura, no moment of stillness. Just a feeling of finally as they pressed together. Chocolate on Laura’s tongue. The coolness of her lips quickly shifting to a warm softness that tasted like hot chocolate and onesies and cupcakes.

No politicians or journalists or crowds or cameras. Just two girls in the snow.

They stopped skating and Carmilla didn’t care.

Because everything didn’t end. Laura’s hands were in her hair, scratching softly at her scalp as Carmilla pulled her closer. Practically purring at the softness of her lips and the brush of Laura’s nose on her own.

Her heart stuttered when Laura drew back. But she didn’t go far, still sharing the same air as Laura’s eyes searched hers. A sense of desperation in them that Carmilla hadn’t noticed before.

“What was that for?” Laura said, voice nearly lost to a rasp.

Two moments of courage.

“It was for me.” Carmilla said.

“You wanted to kiss me?” Laura asked. Carmilla couldn’t read her face. Couldn’t decipher her expression when she thought she’d known all of Laura’s faces. “For me?” Laura continued, “Not for campaigns or anything?”

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. You, ” Carmilla said, “You make it summer even in the snow.”

The smallest smile broke over Laura’s face, “Is that a yes?”

Three moments of courage.

“Yes.” Carmilla said.

“Then you should know,” Laura said, looping her arms around Carmilla neck and pulling her closer, “That this one is for me.”

And Laura kissed her. Long and hard as though she was stealing Carmilla’s breath away and giving it back all at the same time. Her hands back in Carmilla’s hair while Carmilla’s crept up to hold Laura’s face. Grounding her. Warming her from top to bottom like the sun had come out or the stars had moved closer. Because Laura wanted to kiss her. Was kissing her.

When they parted only far enough to breath each other’s hair, Carmilla had to ask. “Was this a real date?”

Laura smiled, “Definitely.”

Carmilla’s smile bloomed to match.

Chapter Text

Laura had woken up nearly every morning of her life with a pillow or a teddy bear caught between her arms but, oddly enough, today the teddy bear was moving. Eyes still closed as her brain pulled itself out of her dreams, Laura buried deeper into the pillow and tried to figure out how her 6 year old dreams of sentient teddy bears could have possibly come to life. The movements in her arms were soft, almost nonexistent but for the occasional shuffle along her skin as something lightly grasped the bottom of her oversized t-shirt.

The light pressure on the space between her ribs increased slightly before falling away again but it was enough to send the smell of leather and burnt coffee and snowy nights straight to her brain.

Laura woke with a smile on her face that only grew as she opened her eyes to see the mass of black hair just under chin, a forehead pressed against her ribs as they curled into each other on their sides.

Carmilla.

Today, Laura didn’t even think of slipping away.

Instead her hand slipped upward, past where Carmilla was gripping the bottom of her shirt, to gently brush Carmilla’s hair back and expose the curve of her ear. Then she ran her finger along the edge and Carmilla shuddered, her face still hidden away in Laura’s sternum.

Looked like someone was only pretending to be asleep.

“Carm,” Laura called, finger still tickling Carmilla’s ear, “we have to get up.”

She only had to wait a moment, “No.” Carmilla grumped, her hands pulling Laura closer.

Laura couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes we do. It doesn’t matter how adorable you try and be, if we don’t get up then Mattie is going to come bounding in here to get us for the dress fitting and I really don’t want that.”

Carmilla shook her head, “I’m not adorable.”

“I disagree,” Laura paused only for a moment, still unbelieving that she could actually do this, and pressed a kiss to the top of Carmilla’s head, “I think that you’re the cutest little bundle of grump before your morning cup of snark.”

Then Carmilla’s head came up, her hands somehow never letting go even as she tilted her head back just enough so that Laura could see her face. Laura had to bite back her smile. Carmilla’s bedhead was absolutely ridiculous, flyaway hairs in every direction to surround her sleepy eyes in a strange halo.

Carmilla pulled back just enough to do nothing more than stare at her.

“Good morning,” Laura said.

Watching Carmilla’s face was like watching the ripples on a lake. Slow and soft. Fascinating and endless. Unexpected and familiar.

Except she wasn’t saying anything and Laura’s stomach started to bubble. “Unless,” Laura said, pulling back slightly, “it’s not a good morning. Because you were pretty emotional yesterday with all that stuff we talked about with your mom and then I made you break in and then I took you skating because I wanted to take your mind off of it and then we kissed. And we kissed. And that was good. Great. Excellent. Superb even.”

Her mind took off in a thousand different directions as she continued, “Except, not if you were just doing it because you were emotional and now you’re like whoops ‘didn’t mean to kiss Laura’, in which case we can totally forget about it. Not that I want to forget about it. I probably couldn’t forget because it was so- but I will. After all, I totally forgot that other thing that time and hah! What am I even talking about because i totally forgot that thing and I can try to forget kissing you if-”

Her words trailed off as she her gaze landed back on Carmilla.

Carmilla was smiling.

It was early in the morning and Carmilla was smiling. That never happened. She held back her own smile, keeping her serious face on even as the bubbling in her stomach turned into butterflies.

Laura didn’t have to hold back her smile for long. Carmilla kissed her softly; a lazy early morning kiss that made her sink into the mattress and want to never get up unless she could take the blankets with her.

“I don’t want to forget,” Carmilla practically sighed the words in her mouth.

Carmilla’s knuckles brushed against the skin of her stomach as she wound the t-shirt tighter, a look on her face that Laura couldn’t decipher. Then she kissed Laura again and there was no room for deciphering, only softness and breathing and tiny sighs and her bones turning into happy puddles of goo as her fingers went back to playing with Carmilla’s ear.

“Good,” Laura said when she caught her breath, “Good. That’s, you know, good. That you don’t want to forget.”

“That’s what I thought as well,” Carmilla said. She stretched lazily and Laura’s gaze slipped to the exposed skin as Carmilla’s shirt rode up. When her gaze came back up, she found Carmilla watching her and a blush erupted over her cheeks. Carmilla winked even as she moved in closer, her hands winding their way under Laura’s shirt to fall on her waist.

They were soft and warm but Laura’s skin still broke out in goosebumps at the touch.

“Now, cupcake,” Carmilla practically purred, “No time for any of that. I thought you said that we had to get up.”

Laura was pretty sure that her brain had short circuited as Carmilla’s thumbs stroked across her ribs, “I mean, um, yes. Technically, I did say that.”

It was hard think when Carmilla’s hands were so soft.

“And I’m so sure,” Carmilla said, “That you wouldn’t want to do anything that might make us late for this ridiculously early morning meeting that Mattie decided to schedule for us, probably specifically to annoy me.”

Breathing was supposed to be a thing. Laura was sure of it. She just couldn’t quite remember how it worked.

She focused on words instead, “You know, I’m pretty sure you don’t have to come to this one. So you could at least stay here.”

Carmilla’s chuckle shot straight through her to curl her toes, “And leave you all alone?” Carmilla said, “Never. Plus, to miss the sight of you in a dress? That would be practically criminal.” Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips and Laura’s breath caught, “After all, I’ve been assured that there’s going to be just enough skin,” her nails bit slightly into Laura’s back, “on show to be absolutely tantalizing.”

Carmilla’s lips were literally right there.

“Well, it’s a wedding dress.” Laura said absently as she stared at Carmilla’s mouth, “so it’s not going to be that scandalous.”

Then she froze. Wound together in Carmilla’s big bed with nothing but lazy kisses between them, the word ‘wedding dress’ hung in the air. Her fake engagement ring sat heavy on her left hand, peeking out from between Carmilla’s black hair.

“We should probably talk about-” Laura started.

Carmilla interrupted as she pulled back slightly, “We really don’t have to.”

Laura winced but let her go, “I think that we really do.”

Carmilla sighed but didn’t argue. She flopped backwards onto the other pillow and pulled the blanket closer to her chest, eyes on the ceiling as she cocooned herself. One of her hands stayed tangled in Laura’s shirt; her arm creating a bridge between them. Reaching down, Laura tangled her fingers with Carmilla’s, preferring to look at the slender fingers in her own.

“I asked you on a date,” Laura said, “and then you kissed me. You kissed me a bunch. And then I kissed you a bunch. Now, we’ve kissed again this morning. Basically, there was a lot of kissing going on. Like lots. Which was great. Is great. As we’ve established. I’m all here for the kissing.”

She chanced a glance up at Carmilla but there was no smile on Carmilla’s face. She just kept looking at the ceiling even as her fingers clung to Laura’s like a lifeline. So she let the silence linger, giving Carmilla a chance to say anything that might give Laura an indication as to her thoughts.

Instead, she broke her heart a little.

“But?” Carmilla whispered, the word dragged from her throat.

Laura blinked, “But what?”

Carmilla rolled further away, sitting up on the edge of the bed and tearing her fingers from Laura’s, “You’re here for the kissing but you don’t want a relationship. You like the kissing but you don’t like me. The kissing is great but you’re not interested in this beyond the extent of our wedding charade. You’re just here for a little fun. That’s all I’m good for.” Carmilla’s voice was small, her shoulders slumped in on herself even as her spine somehow stood straight.

It was eerily familiar.

Laura chest seized, unable to move as she watched Carmilla’s fists rub against her knees. “That’s not what-” Laura started.

Then Carmilla’s voice went high and carefree and that hurt more than anything, “It’s okay. After all, I’m a great kisser. You’re not the first to want to kiss me for the heck of it. Our chemistry was always great. We’ve proven that before. Might as well make the most of it while we’re stuck in this facade of a relationship, right?”

Carmilla started to stand and Laura’s chest finally kicked back into place, she lunged across the bed and latched onto Carmilla’s wrist. “What! No! Carm,” with Carmilla in her grasp, Laura scrambled off the bed, “That’s not what I was going to say at all. Not even a little bit.” She threw her body in front of Carmilla, fingers drawing tighter.

How could Carmilla not understand that kissing Carmilla, falling in love with Carmilla, being best friends with Carmilla, had basically altered the axis on which her world turned?

Her mouth moved faster than her brain as Laura didn’t even bother to try and stem the words. Carmilla had to know. She had to understand. She had to. Her fingers clung tight as her eyes tried to bore into Carmilla's face, reminding herself that Carmilla was still here. Still listening. “I was just going to ask what we are now and how that fits into the whole fake wedding plan.” Laura’s hands slid down Carmilla’s arms to grip at her elbows and pull her closer, “I wasn’t going to say any of that. I don’t want to just kiss you for the heck of it. I don’t want to be light and casual with you.”

Her hands clung tight even as she forced herself to swallow hard and get out the next words, “I’ve spent months pretending that what I feel for you is some frothy thing that doesn’t matter because I didn’t want to admit that every time I had to kiss you for the cameras it broke my heart a little bit. Because I just wanted to be kissing you for you.”

Carmilla was staring at her again, staring at her like Laura was some magical creature who had said something that Carmilla couldn’t even begin to fathom.

But she’d stopped pulling away.

“That’s why I asked you out,” Laura finished, pressing her forehead to Carmilla’s so that she didn’t have to look at her but didn’t have to worry about her moving away either, “I asked you out the second that I realized what it actually was that I wanted.”

“And what do you want?” Carmilla voice was low. The hint of a tremble in her tone.

Laura’s left hand continued to grip Carmilla close but she let her right hand drift back to Carmilla’s face, gently moving Carmilla’s jaw so that they were looking at each other once again. Those big brown eyes staring out at her.

One moment of courage.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” Laura said.

Carmilla’s eyes widened and a smile twinged at the corners of her mouth, her gaze fixed on Laura as Laura watched a hundred different emotions spring across her irises. But each one faded into the soft smile that Carmilla was barely holding onto as she stared. Carmilla’s eyes bounced from Laura’s eyes to her mouth and back again, as though searching for something. All Laura could do was stare back at her, two fingers on Carmilla’s jaw and a hand clenching on her elbow. Barely breathing.

Everything on the table.

Nothing scary about that.

Except everything.

Then Carmilla breathed for the both of them in a sigh that drenched the air between them just in time for Carmilla to grab her cheeks and pull Laura in for another kiss. This kiss wasn’t made of lazy mornings but falling stars, burning and yet beautiful all at once. More breath than kiss. More smile than tongue.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Laura parted long enough to say.

Carmilla smiled and kissed her again, pulling Laura into her lap as she sat back down on the bed. The first kiss was slow but as Carmilla’s hands left her face and fell down her back, the pace increased. Laura shifted closer, her hands pulling at the line of Carmilla’s shoulder blades through the thin t-shirt. It still wasn’t close enough, leaving her to meld into the lines of Carmilla’s skin as Carmilla’s hands slipped up the back of her shirt.

“Well darlings. And here I thought you were only kissing for the cameras.”

Laura wrenched herself backward, eyes wide as she nearly tumbled off Carmilla’s lap until Carmilla grabbed her. “Mattie.” Laura squeaked, her voice coming out shrill and unnatural.

She looked over just in time to see Mattie try and compose the small smile on her face. Mattie turned to Carmilla instead, “I’ve heard wondrous things about your kissing technique, my little monster, but I wasn’t aware it extended to literally stealing voices.”

Laura made to protest and could only squeak again. Her cheeks flamed as her lungs burned. There was no solution but to bury herself back into Carmilla’s shoulder. It was just in time to feel the chuckle rip through Carmilla’s chest.

“This isn’t funny,” Laura mumbled.

“I think you broke her,” Mattie said.

“Then I’ll have to work on putting her back together,” Carmilla deadpanned, “Leave now. Come back in an hour. Or two. We’re busy.”

Mattie tutted, “As thrilling as it would be for you and gidget to rid yourself of that sexual tension you seem desperate to carry around with you everywhere, I’m afraid that we have an appointment this morning that cannot be missed.”

“Reschedule,” Carmilla said. Laura nearly squeaked again as Carmilla tugged her closer.

“Carm!” Laura said, forcing herself to put some space between them as she slid off Carmilla’s lap and onto the bed, “We can’t just do that. It would be rude.”

Carmilla just chased after her, sliding along the bed, “It’s rude of them to interrupt our time together.” Her hands teased the bottom of Laura’s shirt, skimming the skin back and forth, “Just think of all the better things we could be doing with that.”

Breath shuddering, Laura said, “You can’t just distract me, Carm. We have an appointment.”

“Really?” Carmilla’s voice was right in her ear as her fingers drew maddening circles on Laura’s skin, “There’s nothing I could do to distract you?” She finished the sentence by placing the softest kiss along Laura’s jawline.

“I- um- well,” Laura tried. Carmilla just placed a second kiss closer to her ear. She almost caved when her eyes went wide, “Mattie’s still here Carm.”

Carmilla didn’t even move, “She’s leaving.”

She placed a third kiss right on Laura’s earlobe and Laura almost squeaked again.

“Actually,” Mattie said, “As sickening as this entire sweetness is and as much as I’d love to save my teeth the cavities of just being in your proximity, I’m afraid that I can’t leave. At least, not if you want to avoid seeing mother this morning.”

Carmilla pulled back so fast that she was halfway across the room before Laura had registered that she was gone.

“She’s out of town,” Carmilla said.

Mattie shook her head, “She got in late last night and I know for a fact that she’s expecting to speak with you today. If we move, we can be at the shop when she arrives here and out of there before she gets there. That should give you until at least the afternoon.”

Carmilla nodded, her shoulders straightening as she reached into a nearby drawer and yanked out a stack of files, “Mood?”

Mattie grimaced and Laura could physically see any colour leech out of Carmilla’s skin.

Carmilla’s voice was small, “Poll numbers?”

Mattie paused then said, “Among other things. There’s the fundraising banquet next week as well.”

“My speech,” Carmilla started flipping pages, “I haven’t completed the maximized funding version. She’ll be expecting a complete document for review and revision; if I can finish it, she might find that acceptable enough to mitigate some of her reservations despite the errors.”

Carmilla’s hands shook as she flipped the pages, nearly tearing one from the staple. Laura slipped out of the bed, her own fingers twitching for a totally different reason. Carmilla was muttering to herself as Laura crossed the room, “Maybe the strategic plan for mingling as well,” Carmilla muttered, “that might make her happy. If I can get it done right this time. I think I have the seating plan and-”

Laura caught her hands as she went to flip the next page, “Hey,” she said softly, “hey, calm down. It’s going to be fine.”

Carmilla shook her head but didn’t pull her hand from Laura’s grasp, “Fine isn’t good enough for my mother. Haven’t you been listening? She’s a political maverick. You do it right or don’t do it all. That’s how you survive, just stay out of her way.”

“But this isn’t you,” Laura said. She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to get Carmilla’s gaze from frantically sweeping the pages in front of her, “You’re not about mingling plans and robotic speeches. You hate mingling.”

“Pacifying the masses are a necessary component of catering to the sub-par but affluent portions of the upper class,” Carmilla recited and Laura’s stomach churned. It sounded far too much like Mrs Karnstein.

She brushed back Carmilla’s hair, frowning as it stuck slightly to Carmilla’s forehead, “You’re sweating,” she said. When Carmilla still didn’t look at her, she kept going, “Carm, you’re sweating and your hands are shaking and you don’t sound like you. You’re pale as a vampire and you kind of look like you’re going to throw up.” She fidgeted slightly with Carmilla’s fingers before adding, “I know that she’s your mom and all, but, have you ever thought about maybe firing her?”

It was like she’d dropped a bomb in the room.

Carmilla froze; her eyes finally stilling on the paper as her hands involuntarily squeezed Laura’s tighter. From the corner of her eye, Laura could see Mattie where she’d been rifling through some drawers. Mattie’s head came up, swiveling to her.

She put the image of a wide-eyed Mattie into her memory to giggle about later.

Instead, she focused on the way that Carmilla didn’t seem to be breathing. “It’s just,” Laura continued, “I don’t think it’s really healthy to be this afraid of your campaign manager. Your values don’t line up at all and Carm, she’s so mean to you. You have to know that. She literally makes you shake.”

“It’s for my own good,” Carmilla mumbled, “Need to whip me into shape.”

“No it’s not!” Laura objected, “You’re good just as you are and she can’t see that. She puts you down all the time. It’s horrible. Literally, the worst. And you just let her treat you like garbage or something. I can’t stand watching it; I just want to go over and shake her.”

“She’s just helping to-” Carmilla started. Her eyes were unfocused, staring out the window.

“Helping to what?” Laura said when Carmilla trailed off, “Helping to make you feel terrible? Helping to hurt you? And that was all before you told me that she’s the reason you hate thunderstorms.”

She grabbed Carmilla’s hands tighter as Carmilla stiffened at her words, “You took more psych than I did. Think about it.” Laura begged, “You have to know that she’s no good for you. It’s abuse, Carm. And you’re her boss. And you’re just taking it for no reason. And I can’t keep watching! Just fire her!”

There was a pause in the air. Lingering. Waiting. Carmilla’s hands quivered under her own. Laura’s breath caught in her throat as she bounced on her toes and tried to track the movements of Carmilla’s face. It all seemed so obvious. So easy.

Just get rid of her.

“I can’t.”

Carmilla shook her head but never let go of Laura’s hands.

“But, Carm!” Laura started.

“Laura,” Carmilla said, “I can’t. I can’t just- I can’t. It’s not what you think. It’s fine. She’s not the best and it hurts sometimes but I can’t.” She squeezed Laura’s hands tighter, “I just need to finish these documents and it’ll be fine. She’s intense and some of the stuff she does is a little much but her heart’s in the right place. I’m sure she’ll be happy with it this time. I can do this. It’ll be fine.” Carmilla snapped the folder closed and drew it to her chest.

Carmilla finally met her gaze and Laura’s heart almost ached at what she found in her eyes. They were everything her words weren’t. Big and scared and hurt. Pain rippled across the backs of them; a backdrop of deep brown to the lighter flecks that Laura knew so well.

Laura’s fingers twitched; her thumb pressed against the engagement ring.

Carmilla took a deep breath, putting the folder down and pulling Laura close to wrap her in a hug. She seemed to mold into Laura’s body, the weight off her landing plasantly on Laura’s shoulders as some of the tension seemed to unfurl from her shoulders. Spine softening.

“Can we just pretend,” Carmilla said into her ear as her warmth drifted across the nonexistent space between them, “just for now, that if I asked we’d stay here. We’d just stay here and forget all about mothers or journalism or politics We’d wrap ourselves up in that big bed and we wouldn’t leave for anything except chocolate cookies and never speak to the outside world?”

Laura leaned into her a little closer, unable to keep from nuzzling the tip of her cold nose against the warmth of Carmilla’s collarbones. Heating it instantly as Carmilla words sent a calm racing through her skin.

As they stood and did nothing but breath. Every moment of Carmilla’s chest soft against her chin.

“There would be no-one to fail,” Carmilla continued, her voice a soft song, “or disappoint or save. It would just be you and me in love.” The last word came out quietly, breathed over Laura’s temple as Carmilla pressed a kiss to her skin. The world soft and silence, untouched ice on a cloudless day.

“That would be nice,” Laura mumbled, “Wouldn’t it?” Slowly shifting, Laura caught Carmilla’s lips in a kiss. Eyes closed.

Soft and warm. Moving slowly with the weight of years surrounding them like a comfortable blanket.

She wished she could have kept them closed forever.

She opened her eyes.

“But she’s hurting you,” Laura said, “I can’t forget that she’s hurting you.”

Carmilla’s face flickered but she nodded. She hugged Laura once more, a deep inhale causing the hairs on the top of Laura’s head to flutter. Then Carmilla stepped back, hands back on the folder, “We have an appointment to keep.”

“And your mother?” Laura couldn’t help but ask.

“I’ll think about it,” Carmilla said, already turning to the door.

“Carm-”

Carmilla shook her head, “I have to start writing these documents.”

“I’ll handle the strategic plan,” Mattie cut in. Her voice soft as she appeared from the corner. She met Laura’s eye for a moment as before she added, “It’s been ages since I wrote a good battle plan and it would be refreshing to plan something particularly vile for some of those old fuddy-duddies.”

“I can’t ask you to-” Carmilla started but Mattie cut her off.

“It’s fine kitty cat. But for a trick of genetics, I’d be the one in your place. Montreal can wait a little longer.” Mattie said. She whisked one of the papers out of Carmilla’s hand before giving Carmilla a look.

“Thank you, Mattie.” Carmilla had probably meant to be sarcastic but the tone was almost sincere.

“And your mother?” Laura pushed again.

“I’ll think about it.” Carmilla repeated. She took two more steps towards the door before turning back and giving Laura a quick peck on the lips. Pausing, Carmilla’s gaze swept over her; the smallest smile on her lips despite the emotions still whirling in her eyes. Then she was gone, the folder in her hand as Carmilla walked out the door. The rattle of the coffee pot telling Laura exactly where she’d gone.

Laura slumped, shoulders falling as she put a hand on the nearby dresser while a groan slipped out. Her hands clenched around the air before falling uselessly to her side.

“Now gidget,” Laura almost jumped out of her skin when Mattie spoke, “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Carmilla is not an easy egg to crack.”

Mattie was sitting on the end of the bed, papers balanced on her crossed legs as she fiddled with her smartphone.

“Your mother is hurting her,” Laura said, “You grew up with her. You must have know. How could you not say something?”

Mattie didn’t even look up from her phone, “You don’t think I have?”

“If you had then she wouldn’t still be getting hurt!” Laura said, “How can you watch this? It makes me sick!”

“I was fourteen the first time I went to the police behind Maman’s back to tell them that she was putting my little sister in the closet,” Mattie said. Laura’s breath caught but Mattie’s tone was plain, even keel as she kept typing. “Carmilla has no idea that I even went. It came to nothing. Maman was too clever for that; her type of abuse was never physical and the law demands cuts and bruises and angry shouting in the night to make a case.”

“Carmilla could have told them,” Laura tried.

Mattie’s gaze flicked up to meet hers before leaving again, “Perhaps. But a lifetime of learned loyalty and systemized self-hatred is not undone in a moment, she knew more about the stars then abuse. Abuse was done by men who drank and hit. Not mothers with soft words and high expectations. All we knew for years was that if we bowed to Maman’s will, she might smile on us. And her smile felt like everything to a child. Those small words of praise were a craving hard to ignore.”

For the first time, Laura saw Mattie’s fingers falter on her phone, “I might never have figured it out myself if not for my increased age, Maman’s limited attention, and Carmilla’s state when she left the closet. When I went to the police one too many times, I was promptly shipped off to boarding school, leaving Carmilla and William to her whims.”

“But you came back,” Laura said, trying not to squirm under Mattie’s gaze, “You could have said something. Helped her.”

Mattie’s smile was dark, “I have. A hundred times over. With more words and arguments then you’ve even thought of yet.”

Laura’s hands fell at her sides, “Then why is your mother still a problem? Why is she still abusing Carm like this?”

“Because it’s abuse,” Mattie said simply. Her hand went up as Laura’s mouth opened, “It’s not a feeling you can understand standing on the outside. You cannot convince someone that they’re being abused, if you keep pushing then they will walk away. There is a reason you and I never met while Carmilla was in school; she simply wasn’t speaking to me because I dared to suggest that mother’s impact was toxic. If you keep pushing so hard, you may encounter the same.”

“I can’t just leave her!” Laura would have shouted if Carmilla wasn’t in the next room, “I can’t just pretend this is okay.”

“Of course not,” for a second, Mattie’s face almost seemed to reflect fondness before it settled again, “You shouldn’t. But these things take time and I am confident that we are nearly free, I’d hate to see you set that back.”

“Set it back?” Laura said.

Finally, Mattie put down the phone and looked at Laura. In fact, Laura fought the impulse to squirm as Mattie did nothing but stare at her, appraising. So Laura lifted her chin high and stared right back.

“Carmilla is aware that her relationship with mother is toxic,” Mattie said at last, “she has since sometime during her time at your little university. Distance has a wonderful way of offering perspective but abuse is not so easy to erase that she didn’t walk right back into Mother’s arms, despite her best intentions during her early campaign. We have been conditioned to cater to her whims. That does not break in a day. So Carmilla is constantly at war with herself, knowing she should leave but finding herself unable.”

Mattie’s gaze seemed to pierce her as she added, “You have upset the balance simply by being here. These things take time but, Miss Hollis, you may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Not something to fix our girl but perhaps offering a reason to help her heal herself.”

Even as Mattie spoke, the whispered image of Carmilla’s hand reaching out fluttered through her head.

Moving past her mother. In defiance of her mother.

A “stay” that she hadn’t realized the cost for Carmilla to say.

“She asked me to stay,” Laura whispered.

“Exactly,” Mattie said, “Perhaps we’re reaching the end of mother’s influence. Until then, I will be attempting to run interference with Mother as best as I can. You should continue to be the annoying speck of journalist that you are.”

“Gee,” Laura said, “Thanks.”

Mattie’s smile was the only warning she had before Mattie wrapped her arm around Laura’s shoulders and started propelling her from the room. Laura almost tripped, “Now then. That’s settled so we can move onto which wedding dress best says ‘I’m A Perfectly Respectable Piece of Arm-Candy for Carmilla.’”

“I’m not arm candy,” Laura spluttered.

Arm cookie at worst.

“You’re right,” Mattie conceded as she pushed Laura on, “That was far too generous.”

She kept on pushing until Laura landed straight into Carmilla arms, narrowly missing Carmilla’s cup of coffee. “Kitten,” Mattie called as Carmilla just managed to catch her, “Would you prefer that your fiancee here show off her arms or her back? I don’t have time to go back through those ludicrous 2am text message to determine which you natter on about more frequently.”

Laura had thought that Carmilla would blush at Mattie’s reveal.

Instead, Carmilla smile turned wicked as her arms tightened around Laura’s waist, “Why not both?”

It was Laura’s turn to blush, hiding behind the coffee that Carmilla put in her hands. She only came out when Carmilla nudged the mug away to kiss her nose.

Carmilla’s eyes were still betraying the fear behind her smile, so Laura leaned in to kiss her nose back. “If we leave now,” Laura said, “I bet I’ll have time to try on any dress you want.”

“Any dress?” Carmilla asked, the fear fading just a little as Laura reached out and yanked her closer..

Laura would do whatever it took to make it disappear entirely. “Any dress.”

With Carmilla in her arms, she wasn’t letting go anytime soon. If only it was always as easy as a pretty dress. Still, she’d fix it.

Chapter Text

It was like someone had drained every colour from the world except for shades of white. Carmilla looked up from the papers scattered across her lap, trying to catch a glimpse of Laura between the endless sea of wedding dresses. They’d barely taken two steps into the shop before a gaggle of overeager sales people had whisked Laura into the back of the shop with questions about cuts and styles and the difference between ‘cream’ and ‘eggshell’. Moving quickly, they left nothing behind but the vague scent of citrus and the trail of Laura’s fumbling words.

They’d actually managed to out-talk Laura Hollis. Which should have been impossible.

Despite her best efforts to catch a glimpse of her fiancee, all Carmilla could see were dresses. Endless dresses. Each one jabbed her slightly in the chest as secret 2am musing about her wedding day fought to be acknowledged.

She squashed them, turning back to the pile of papers. Her pen swept the pages. The words were written and rewritten over and over. Carmilla was on her fourth read-through when the paper was abruptly yanked from her lap.

“If you keep editing that paper, it’s going to be entirely incomprehensible,” Mattie said, eyeing the page, “Do us all a favour and go back to being the apathetic little monster that we all love to hate so dearly.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “I’m counting down the days until the election. Once mother’s off my back, I’m burning all of this.” She gestured to the papers, absently making a note on one of the pages.

Mattie made a sound that was almost snort, “Darling, you can’t be so naive as to think that mother will ever get ‘off your back’ as you put it.”

“Her priority has always been the election,” Carmilla kept her gaze on the page but saw nothing. Above her store light flicker slightly. A bulb burnt out.“not the day to day activities that come after it.”

“And what happens when one of her colleagues wants a particular bill passed?” Mattie pressed, “Or she decides she disagrees with a decision or needs something pushed on the chamber floor? You don’t think she’s going to dictate the way you vote on every issue?”

Carmilla’s grip on the pen grew but her head stayed bowed.

She could see Mattie in her peripheral, “You don’t put someone in power just to let them go.” Mattie said, “You know that.”

Her shoulders were tense, a heavy weight resting on them that made the muscles tighten over the back and shoulders. Carmilla rolled her shoulders, trying to look languid. Instead, the action sent a shot of pain soaring up her neck to curl in her temples and set off a buzzing in her head.

An ache left too long.

It was at that moment she realized that she was holding her shoulder up, straining towards her ears as she pulled them inward. Hunched. Twisted.

Carmilla sighed and her shoulders dropped, “I know.” She admitted.

Her pen slipped on the paper as her hand relaxed, leaving a dark inky streak racing through the third paragraph. She tilted her head and took a breath. It stretched the strain across her chest even as her other hand still clung tightly to the pile of papers balanced on her lap for fear that they’d slip. The action caught the tip of her ring finger and Carmilla hissed as a small papercut sliced through the digit.

But she didn’t let go.

Just closed her eyes and ignored it, feeling Mattie still hovering nearby.

She should probably say something else. Nothing came.

Mattie’s voice was softer, “You’re going to have to make a choice eventually, kitten. How far will you let her push you?”

Carmilla’s hand tapped against the stack of papers but before she could even begin to consider an answer, she was interrupted with more important matters.

The only important matter.

“Carmilla?” Perry’s voice cut through the hum of voices that was the wedding shop, “Laura needs you back here for a moment.”

She left the papers behind, trusting Mattie to look after them, and tried to wind her way through the endless sea of dresses. Just when Carmilla was considering literally barging straight through the wall of fabric, she managed to find the back of the store. Perry was hovering just outside the entrance to the changing room with some frazzled looking salespeople around her.

They parted as Carmilla practically stomped past the last dress rack, fingers catching the edges of the silk on the dresses before she snatched her hand back. “What’s wrong?” she asked, “Don’t tell me someone here managed to upset her.”

When he was drunk, Will had once told Carmilla that her glower was the same as their mother’s.

Lifting her chin, Carmilla stared down at the group. Perry was the only one who didn’t take a step back, “Carmilla. Yes. Well,” Perry said, “Laura’s asked us all to leave and she’s not, well, exactly opening the door again.”

Brushing past them, Carmilla leaned against the door and tapped with her knuckles, “Cupcake?” she called, “Can you let me in? I think I recall you owing me a dress viewing.”

There was a pause.

Then the door clicked open.

Hand on the doorknob, Carmilla stopped to shoot the group behind her a look, “If I find one iota of distress in that room then I’ll burn you and all of your silly little dresses to the ground.” She left them with a smirk and walked in the changing room.

It wasn’t like any changing room she’d ever seen before; it was more the size of a small bedroom. Lined with mirrors, creme colours, and soft lights meant to imitate the sun, there was a raised platform at the center of the room. The door closed behind Carmilla with a soft click.

All she could see was Laura.

“Cupcake,” the word escaped as a breath or a sigh or a prayer. Carmilla didn’t care which.

Laura gave a small half turn to look back at her and Carmilla’s breath disappeared entirely. Because Laura was in a wedding dress. A wedding dress. The soft white fabric swept to the floor in a delicate arc, fluttering gently with Laura’s every move before pulling upwards into a more structured top. Even with large pins holding the back of the trial dress in shape, it sank low in the back. Well past the line where her bra strap would have been. Carmilla’s stomach tightened at the smooth expanse of her back exposed. Muscles rippling.

Habit caught and Carmilla looked away.

Except. She stopped herself. The warmth of an early morning Laura wrapped around her sinking back into her skin and the rushed caress of an ‘i want you to be my girlfriend’ ghosting in her ears.

So Carmilla looked again, letting the rata tat tat of her heart pick up speed as she traced the shape of Laura’s arms as they emerged from underneath the halter straps. The way the white fabric wrapped around her waist.

The fabric swooshed again as Laura turned to face her, teeth on her lip, “Carm?”

The image of Laura in a white dress under a blanket of stars surrounded by frozen willow trees punched Carmilla in the chest. Even here in the dressing room, a single strand of hair had escaped from Laura’s low ponytail and her fingers itched to put it back. Her mind creating the image of snowy weddings and pushing a curl back behind Laura’s ear before ghosting a finger down her cheek.

She’d lean in and kiss her, ministers and timing and “i dos” could wait.

So Carmilla crossed the room and took the single step up onto the small podium that Laura was standing on. Then, she moved in close and pushed the hair behind Laura’s ear. She hovered in front of Laura’s face, enjoying the way Laura’s breath caught and her pupils grew as Carmilla’s hand lingered on her neck. The skin was so soft. How could she not linger?

She’d just meant to tease.

Then Laura kissed her and Carmilla was once again caught by the knowledge that she was allowed to do this now. Laura’s kiss was soft and soft and soft. A match to the way Carmilla had just been touching her neck. Then she pulled back, “What do you think?” Laura asked.

“Not bad.” Carmilla drawled.

Laura searched her eyes for something, a tentative look on her face and Carmilla let the drawl drop from her voice, “Absolutely beautiful, cupcake.”

The sincerity lingered just long enough for the vulnerability to disappear from Laura’s face. It was replaced with a small smile. She turned slightly, without moving away from Carmilla, “Do you think the back is a little low?”

Watching herself in the long mirrors, Carmilla let her fingers drift across Laura’s waist. The warmth of the skin underneath permeated through the silky fabric. But silk was nothing to the feel of Laura’s skin as Carmilla’s hand slipped to her back.

Laura’s muscles twitched softly under her palm. Something she’d seen but never felt.

“Carm…” Laura’s voice was breathless and it made Carmilla smile as she used just the tips of her fingers to draw circles across Laura’s back.

Leaning in but keeping her hand on Laura’s back, she slid behind Laura to wrap her free arm around her waist. She pulled Laura close and pressed a heavy kiss to the thick muscle running down the side of neck. “The back is perfect,” Carmilla purred.

“You’re such a teenager,” Laura mumbled but stretched her neck to give Carmilla more room. With a sigh, Laura sank back into her and Carmilla pressed a few more sloppy kisses to her skin. The slightest graze of teeth.

There was a warm pressure on her hand and Carmilla looked up as Laura slid her hand on top of the one Carmilla had wrapped around her waist. Propping her chin on Laura’s shoulder, Carmilla took in their silhouette. Her dark blazered arm wrapped around the girl in white.

They looked exactly like what her mother wanted. Something tinged in Carmilla’s chest but she focused on the smiling girl in her arms.

Laura’s gaze met hers in the mirror, a cocky grin on her face, “We clean up good.”

“Of course we do,” Carmilla scoffed. Laura rolled her eyes just as Carmilla added, “Look at me. I make everyone in my arms look good.”

The objection was already bubbling from Laura’s mouth as Carmilla pressed a smile to Laura’s neck and said, “Not that you need the help.”

Mollified, Laura nodded sharply. She leaned back into Carmilla, practically sinking into her arms. So Carmilla noticed when Laura twitched. When the fingers in hers tightened. Frowning, Carmilla looked up at Laura’s face again. That same smile she’d seen since she’d wrapped her arm around Laura.

Except. The fingers on hers were still tight.

So she looked deeper. Unpacking the cocky corners of the smile for something that didn’t settle right against her skin. The slight downturn of Laura’s mouth. The weight in her eyes.

“Alright,” Carmilla said. She took the smallest step back and lifted their joined hands above Laura’s head to spin her until she was facing Carmilla, “I might regret asking but what’s wrong.”

“Nothing!” Laura chirped, eyes wide enough that Carmilla didn’t even have to think about if that was a lie, “Nothing at all. It’s a beautiful dress and it looks really pretty and what girl wouldn’t want a dress like this? Cause I mean, this is supposed to be what little girls dream about and-”

“Laura.”

Laura’s mouth snapped shut. Carmilla just waited. Everything came quickly with Laura. She was all in or all out. Decisions were made and stuck to. Words were thrown out in volume.

Except.

When it came to herself. For herself, Laura could never find words quickly. Carmilla ghosted her thumbs over Laura’s palms before moving on trace her fingers. When Laura found her words, it was always worth the wait.

So Carmilla waited.

She was tracing past the cool metal of Laura’s engagement ring and something in the action seemed to trigger the words. “It’s a beautiful dress, Carm,” she gazed up at Carmilla like she was asking for forgiveness, “It really is.”

Carmilla just held her eyes. Held her hands. Waiting. The words will come. Slowly and then in waterfall. But you had to wait for them.

Laura glanced at the image of them in the mirror, linked by their hands in their white dress and black blazer. She closed her eyes against the image but clung tighter to Carmilla’s hands, capturing them in her own.

The words came.

“I wish my mom was here.”

And Carmilla’s heart broke. She couldn’t fix this.

She moved without thinking, arms opening on reflex before she could think that maybe she shouldn’t. But Laura was doing the same, burrowing away against her chest before Carmilla could second guess her actions. There were no tears but Laura’s breaths were deep. Barely steady as Carmilla pulled her tight.

The words came. Pressed against the divot between Carmilla’s collarbones.

“She should be here,” Laura repeated, “I know I was only in high school but she was already joking about my wedding to the perfect girl. She promised to pick out only the ugliest dresses and then we could laugh at them before we found the perfect one. Then we’d take pictures of the bad ones and she’s ‘accidentally’ let slip to my fiancee that the bad dress was the one I’d picked. Just to see what they said. She thought it was so funny.”

Carmilla pressed a small smile to the top of Laura’s head, her hand coming up to wind between Laura’s hair and pull her closer to her skin. As though she could somehow absorb Laura into herself.

Laura kept talking, her breath making light puffs on Carmilla’s neck, “And she’d talk about how Dad would insist on a meal with potatoes because all important meals have potatoes and how instead of a wedding cake I’d probably get something silly like a giant cookie. Then I’d remind her that I wasn’t even seeing anyone and she’d say ‘but you will, pumpkin’ and she’d force me to compromise on a cupcake cake instead of cookies because she was better at baking cupcakes.”

Laura fell silent, her words lingering in every reflection of the white dress in the dozens of mirrors around them. Almost begging Carmilla to say something.

She didn’t have much positive experience with mothers.

But the classical words still fell from her lips, “I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.”

“Eliot?” Laura tried.

“Lincoln.”

Laura nodded, her hands sneaking under Carmilla’s blazer to grasp at the shirt underneath, “You know what I never told her?”

Carmilla waited, her hands wrapping around Laura’s waist.

“I didn’t care about finding the perfect dress. I already knew what I wanted because it was the one thing that would have surprised her.” Laura took a breath.

Carmilla waited. In the silence, she started swaying slightly. Laura came with her easily, fluidly, like she’d been expecting it. Feet unmoving and yet moving together.

“I was going to wear her old dress.” Laura said at last, “Get it resized a little, updated a touch, but still the same dress. There was always a wedding picture of her and my Dad in their bedroom and I always thought that she was the prettiest person ever.I wanted to be just like her.”

Laura shimmied closer in her arms, ear resting above Carmilla’s heartbeat.

Carmilla was afraid of the answer before she asked the question, “Was the dress in the house when-”

Laura nodded before she could finish, a choke in her voice, “It burned up in the fire. I actually. After the funeral. When Dad and I went through what was left of the house. I checked the closet for it but everything in there was ash. Only things we ever got out of there were metal,” she forced some levity into her voice, “too bad they hadn’t gone for some alternative metal themed wedding.”

Carmilla pulled Laura so tightly to her chest that a small ‘oomph’ escaped Laura’s mouth. She knew Laura wouldn’t care. Only a high school sleepover had kept Laura out of the house that night. Her father on a work shift.

A familiar stuffed bear jammed at the bottom of her overnight bag where the other girls couldn’t see him.

Everything else was ash. Wedding dresses and pictures and all.

An “I’m so sorry, cupcake,” was all Carmilla could offer.

Pulling back from Carmilla’s neck, Laura looked up at her and Carmilla was surprised to find that her eyes were still dry. Red. But dry. Laura’s fingers traced the edges of her face before landing on her lips, sweeping across them over and over. Finally, her eyes came back up to meet Carmilla’s.

A hint of water at the edges, “She never got to meet you.” Laura said.

“Probably for the best,” Carmilla joked around the lump in her throat.

Laura’s fingers tightened on her face. Certainty in her eyes as she spoke each word slowly, “She would have loved you.”

Carmilla kissed her instead of replying. Laura sunk into her mouth and Carmilla refused to stop until Laura was ready to pull back.

It took a while. Soft sighs and hard kisses that turned into grasping hands and sweeping tongues.

“I could go collect the ugliest dresses in the store,” Carmilla offered when they broke apart, “And we can take ridiculous shots of you in all of them.”

“We?” She should have been very afraid when Laura’s eyes lit up like that.

But Laura’s eyes had lit up and she couldn’t think about it.

“We can take selfies?” Laura was practically vibrating in her hands, “As in, you will also put on ugly wedding dresses with me and let me take a bunch of ridiculous photos?”

Carmilla groaned, her head falling into her hands but she couldn’t quite keep the corners of her mouth from smiling. Laura was across the room and throwing the door open before the groan could even die, “Hi!” Carmilla heard her say, “So we’re going to need some more dresses.”

“No frills,” Carmilla said.

The first dress Laura wrestled her into was covered in frills. She just shoved the dress in Carmilla’s arms and let the pushy sales people take over. They ignored every word of her griping as they poked and pinned her into place.

It was worth it for the giggle-snort that erupted from Laura’s mouth when she saw her.

The camera flashed with Carmilla scowling at her frills while Laura grinned around the biggest puffy sleeves that Carmilla had ever seen.

The next dress had the world’s biggest bow on it. Right across her chest. Laura kissed her cheek and snapped the photo when Carmilla wasn’t ready.

Although she didn’t mind lime green in moderation, it never should have been on a wedding dress. So in picture four, Carmilla looked like a crayon next to the sunshine yellow plaid pattern that had thrown up over Laura.

Picture five had her trying to wrestle the phone away from Laura. No-one could know about that one. No-one.

Instead, the camera had captured the side of her face with Laura’s laughing face slightly blurred beside her as Carmilla snatched the camera.

For picture six, she had simply resigned herself to the poofiest poof dress to ever poof. Her chin was on Laura’s shoulder as the poof dress expanded around them both.

Carmilla was still trying to figure out how exactly to get out of the poof dress when Laura slipped into the changing room with two more dresses in her arms. Giving up, Carmilla practically ripped the dress off, “You just about done there, cupcake?”

“Last one,” Laura said. Carmilla frowned as she bounced lightly on her tip toes. “I know that I owe you a dress so I got this one for me cause we both know you’d pick the one with the most skin.” She held up a dress that was less wedding and more miniskirt in wedding colours.

“You know me so well,” Carmilla let her grin turn just a little lecherous.

Laura was still bouncing on her toes, “And. I got this one for you. It’s not actually a bad one. I don’t think. Well, it looked nice on the rack. Kind of you-ish and I thought that maybe it would be cool to see you in an actual not-ugly wedding dress even though I know that you’ve already got a suit but we’re here and I’m not actually sure you liked the suit that much cause Mattie was saying things and I thought this might be fun?” She bounced again and held out the dress like she thought Carmilla was going to set it on fire.

Like a cute little bunny rabbit.

She sighed, one day she’d figure out how to say no to this girl. “Hand it over,” Carmilla said, “What could one more dress hurt?”

Laura grinned and gave it to her before disappearing back into her own change room.

#

The mini dress was really tight. Laura plucked at the edges of the dress, trying to get it to reach just a little farther down her thigh before giving up entirely. Instead, she took one more look in the mirror and shot herself a pair of fingerguns before winking at herself and heading to the door.

She couldn’t even imagine the come ons that would immediately come out of Carmilla’s mouth.

Grinning, she opened her door and raced across the hall to Carmilla’s change room. With a perfunctory knock, she walked right in.

And promptly got punched in the face with a bad bout of the gay.

Carmilla in a suit was one thing. It was, in fact, a hundred different kind of things that all somehow ended in the phrase ‘really hot’.

Carmilla in an actual wedding dress was a whole other kind of thing. It was grace and sophistication and really really gay.

Laura had been prepared for that.

She hadn’t been prepared for Carmilla’s smile.

Carmilla smiling softly as she looked at herself in an actual wedding dress, her fingers running down the fabric like she couldn’t believe she was wearing it, was beyond even a thing. It was more an ‘explode your ovaries and start looking at homes and pets and children’ type of revelation.

The kind that inevitably lead to an ‘I love you’.

As soon as the thought hit, Laura bit her tongue and raced across the room, “Look at you!” she said, “You look absolutely wow!”

Carmilla snatched her hands from the dress but Laura just caught them. Her own smile grew as she watched Carmilla try to put on a frown. She failed miserably. Everything in her face just going shy as she ducked her head and let her hair fall around her face.

“You’re a biased opinion,” Carmilla tried to scoff, “seeing as you picked it.”

“And I was so right.” Laura said.

The ends of Carmilla’s dark hair curled between the classical lace at the top of the dress. The intricate cuts let Carmilla’s skin shine through as the lace cut sleeveless patterns over her shoulders, leaving a glimpse of collarbones to meet at the nape of her neck. Back exposed before the lace picked up in a deep v. To Laura, it screamed the history and philosophy that Carmilla was so fond of quoting.

Although the lace continued down her torso, a beautiful white silk appeared underneath it to replace the peek of her skin. The farther down the dress she looked, the more the two fabrics bound together. Until there wasn’t a top or bottom piece, simply a dress. Laura skimmed her hand down the revealed curves before fluttering the soft cascades of fabric at the bottom. Unlike her first dress, this one extended into a small train. Whisps of silk and lace that made Carmilla look like she was walking on a cloud.

Carmilla’s hand followed hers, catching the fabric and watching it fall again. That small smile back on her face.

“Oh come on,” Laura said, “you like it!”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Anything would be better than those other dresses you picked out.”

Laura just smiled and held up the camera, sneaking a few candids as Carmilla moved into her side. She had her own proof in the silence of Carmilla’s tongue and the glide of her fingers on the fabric. Then she pressed her forehead to Carmilla’s and took the shot. She could only grin at the resulting image, “That’s a keeper.”

“Does that mean we’re finally done with this portion of our day?” Carmilla asked.

Faking a dramatic sigh, Laura stepped back, “I suppose so.”

She stepped off the podium to shrug into a sweater, cold in the tiny dress. When she turned around, her smile practically cracked across her face. Despite being told she could stop, Carmilla was still standing where Laura had left her and gazing at herself in the mirror.

“Carm?” Laura called softly.

“Mmmhmmm?” Carmilla kept her eyes on her reflection like she was scared the image would dissipate.

“You look really beautiful.”

Her heart skipped a beat when Carmilla didn’t even try to hide the resulting smile. It was perfect. Perfect. She let her gaze drag Carmilla from top to bottom.

She zeroed in on one thing midway through the second sweep, hand coming to fiddle with the ring on her left hand.

Almost perfect. She could fix that.

The change room door slammed open, “Mircalla. I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to waste your time on this wedding drivel and focus on improving your severely lackluster performance. These reports you sent are barely mediocre and I’ve had to make several changes to compensate for your usual drivel.” Carmilla’s mother blew into the room like a hurricane.

So it was like the world stopped when she stopped short.

Her words went tough and hard and soft in all the worst ways, “What. Are. You. Wearing?”

She caught a glimpse of Mattie trailing her mother into the room, mouth open slightly. Perry followed. Shutting the door. But more important was Carmilla. Frozen like a statue in the center of the room. Arms pulled into her chest.

Laura forced her shoulders to relax. Don’t aggravate anything. Mattie had said.

She could do that.

Even if she wanted to punch Mrs Karnstein in the face and she had to physically unclench her fingers. “Oh! That’s my fault,” Laura forced her breeziest tone but very intentionally stepped between Carmilla and her mother, “I’ve just been trying on a bunch of dresses like the schedule you put together suggested? And Carmilla’s been working so hard all morning that I thought it might be fun to do something silly.”

Mrs Karnstein raised a single brow and Laura hated that it reminded her of Carmilla, “Mircalla, doesn’t have time for silly things,” she said, “She’s severely behind on everything and your recent machinations haven’t helped the situation.”

She fought the urge to click her teeth, “While I think Carm’s been doing great, regarding my machinations. Well. Our last phone call. I apologize, that was out of line.”

She was going to have to punch something later. Hard.

“You apologize?” The disbelief in Mrs Karnstein’s voice was clear, “I didn’t think you were capable of the act.”

Puppies and kittens and Carmilla and sunshine and cookies and cupcakes and super secret reports that were almost done and rainbows and comic con and lois lane and every other good thing was forced to the front of Laura’s mind as her jaw twitched, “It wasn’t my place to interrupt a personal phone call. I’m sure we both just want what’s best for Carmilla right? That’s why I agreed to do this in the first place.”

Carmilla’s mother eyed her but Laura just kept going, “I see now that my actions were not what was best for Carm. So I apologize.”

Non-confrontation. Best for Carm. She could do this. She could fix it.

She let her eyes bounce to Mattie who looked just a little impressed.

“Well,” Carmilla’s mother took a step forward, “I must say that I’m surprised Miss Hollis, but very well. It appears you do have at least basic logic skills. It certainly doesn’t make up for your hot-headed, capricious, and ill-advised nature and the trouble it has caused this campaign.” There was a rustle behind her but Laura didn’t dare look away as Mrs Karnstein continued, “Perhaps, if you can refrain from any personal opinions or deviations then we can end this entire facade amicably.”

Before Laura could even think about what that meant, there was another rustle behind her.

Carm. “She’s not ill-advised.”

The words hung in the air.

Shock rippled down her spine as Laura spun around to face Carmilla and found Carmilla with her hands at her sides and her eyes closed.

She’d just spoken back.

To her mother.

Her mother just laughed, “Really Mircalla? I thought you’d outgrown this whole infatuation nonsense at the same time we’d agreed that if you were going to pursue this whole ‘lesbian’ image it would at least be in pants. Not dresses. The best of bad situation.” She sighed but there was no sympathy in it, “Yet. Here we are.”

Laura held her tongue.

“It was just a joke,” Carmilla said, “Like Laura said. She thought it would be funny. We still have the suit.”

“Why am I not surprised that even your idea of a ‘joke’, as you put it, falls short of anything actually worthwhile. Darling, if you must waste time on frivolity due to your inherent weakness go watch one of those honey badger videos.” Mrs Karnstien waved a hand, almost dismissing them, “I’ve long learned not to anticipate anything near perfection but could you at least try to be adequate in your ineptitudes. In consideration of me.”

“Of course, mother,” Carmilla’s chin was down. Shoulders straight. “I apologize mother.”

Laura held her tongue.

Extending a hand to pluck a large pile of notes from Perry’s arms, Mrs Karnstein began flicking through them, “Now I’m going to need you to take that dreadful thing off so that we can get started on real work. Not this wedding nonsense.”

“Yes mother.”

If heart’s could break, Laura felt hers cracking as Carmilla skimmed her fingers down the lace like she could imprint the feel into her memory. Then Carmilla snatched her hand away, making a fist, “Laura?” she said, “Could you help me out?”

Laura held her tongue and started undoing the intricate buttons that made up the back of the dress.

With every button she swiped her finger over the soft skin of Carmilla’s back, trying to offer some form of comfort in the wake of words that Mrs Karnstein was throwing at Carmilla.

“We’ll have to start with this seating plan you proposed for the benefit,” Mrs Karnstein said, “Positively atrocious. If I wasn’t here to mitigate this disaster you’d be removed from running an evening. Is it really so hard to remember that Senator Finch needs to be exactly 4.2 meters away from Albert Harris and two tables from Margaret to maximize their interactions? No. I’m not actually for much here. Just a minimally intelligent human.” She paused to reconsider, “Or a monkey even.”

Mattie spoke up softly, "Perhaps we're being a little harsh on-"

Mrs Karnstien's sigh cut her off, "If I want your opinion Matska, I will ask for it. If you're going to interrupt then we might as well send you right back to that office you love so much in Montreal."

Mattie stepped back.

Swipe of Laura’s thumb across the top of Carmilla’s spine.

Laura held her tongue.

Mrs Karnstein continued, “And these platform recommendations on environmental issues? Darling, you try and propose this platform and the oil conglomerates will eat you alive. Thankfully, I’ve got enough inside connections to determine their real desires and I’ll be able to fix your little mess to something less pedestrian.”

Swipe of Laura’s thumb. Carmilla’s skin turning clammy.

There were only a few buttons left and Laura took her time, not wanting to move away from Carmilla before she had to.

“And of course,” Mrs Karnstein said, pulling out a paper covered in edits and rewrites. Carmilla’s handwriting obvious to Laura even from a distance, “there’s the absolute disaster that is this speech. Did you even try Mircalla? I mean really, I would expected that by now you’d learned to write a simple speech that meets even the lowest level of my expectations. But here we are.”

Laura held her tongue and swiped at Carmilla’s skin.

She paused, “Although, considering your history. I suppose that even my writing a quality written speech doesn’t mean that you won’t find a way to de-elevate it. Which shouldn’t be possible with my hard work and expertise. Perhaps that’s your special talent. Regardless, we’ll work until you’re my glittering girl once again. No freezing. It’s almost a shame that there are no storms forecasted, that was always good for establishing your proper focus.”

Carmilla’s entire musculature spasmed under Laura’s hands, her muscles twitching as her spine jumped like it wanted to collapse inward on itself.

Panicking, Laura pressed her palm tight to Carmilla’s bare back and tried to let the heat from her hand flow into Carmilla. Tried to make it say all the things she couldn’t.

I’m here. You’re here. I’m here. You’re okay. I love you.

Then, with Carmilla’s shaking muscles under her hand and a wedding dress falling off of Carmilla’s shoulders, Laura’s brain caught up with what Mrs Karnstein had actually said. What she was saying. What she was implying.

Thunderstorms and closets and darkness.

Repeated. Good things.

Laura couldn’t hold her tongue.

Wouldn’t.

“No.” Laura whirled from the platform and stepped into Mrs Karnstein’s space. Her voice was low and dangerous and didn’t even bother trying to hold a single word back, “No. You don’t get to say anything bad about Carmilla. You don’t and I won’t let you do it anymore. Carmilla is amazing and the best person I know and absolutely incredible and somehow you refuse to let her see that. Are you really so damaged or so calloused that you’d constantly put your own daughter down when she is nothing less than amazing?”

Laura took another step forward, meeting Mrs Karnstein’s gaze and letting it wash over her, “Carmilla is a real actual person and you did absolutely terrible things to her that should have landed you in jail and you have the nerve to suggest that they were a good thing? You’re a mother. Apparently. All you had to do was support her and you spend every single word tearing her down. ” She set her jaw, “So I won’t let you. Not anymore.”

“And you think you’re helping her?” Mrs Karnstein almost sounded amused, “I can’t say that this is the reception that I, Mircalla’s doting mother was hoping for, but I can’t say that I’m surprised. You did always have a flair for the dramatics, poppet. What with your little apology and all. The truth is, cupcake,” She stared down at Laura and let Carmilla’s nickname settle like poison on her tongue as Laura flinched, “you’re not doing a lick of good for your precious Carmilla. I’m the one helping her overcome her weakness. The truth is that the strong prey on the weak. The corrupt on the foolish. And even those with the best of intentions can hardly help but do more harm than good.”

The scariest thing was that Laura could see nothing but conviction in Mrs Karnstein’s eyes. A belief in her own words. Her own rightness.

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try,” Laura said.

Mrs Karnstein rolled her eyes, “And I’m sure that if you try your best and really believe, it will make all the difference? No. You’re simply deluding Mircalla into thinking that you actually care about her or that, once I was out of the way like seem to want, you wouldn’t simply barge your way into the campaign and take my place? After all,” Mrs Karnstein actually snickered, “we both know who’s the forceful one in your little relationship and it's not my daughter. There’s a reason we dress her in pants, no need to let people see how soft she truly is. If you can’t beat them, join them.”

“I’d never do that to Carm and there’s nothing wrong with being soft!” Laura wanted to stomp her foot, “She’s a good politician because she’s soft.”

“Mircalla would be swallowed in an instant without my help,” Mrs Karnstein’s voice had returned to something dangerous, “She is my glittering girl and I will not leave her to cry out in fear and pain. I will not stand by and do nothing. Everything I have done is for her own good and she knows that. She knows how much I have helped her. How much I have sacrificed for her. How much she owes me.” Mrs Karnstein’s chin went up, “And if you can’t see that, Miss Hollis, I think it’s time for you to leave. Your services will no longer be required.”

She turned a half step away, “Mircalla. Drop that dress and come with me. Miss Perry, please arrange a flight back to Toronto for Miss Hollis.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Laura practically growled, “I think you’re the one who needs to leave.”

Mrs Karnstein stopped, actually considering her. Laura knew that she must look ridiculous. She was leaning forward; arms slightly out from her sides as though it could make her seem larger. A fire in her chest that she hoped was showing in her eyes.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she was in a tiny wedding dress and a sweater, it might have been imposing.

She didn’t care. Carmilla deserved better than this.

She could fix this.

No more abusive words or action. No more.

“If I recall,” Mrs Karnstein said, “When we started on this sham engagement we both agreed that we were doing it solely for Carmilla’s benefit. No?”

Laura nodded, uncertain as to where it was going.

“So perhaps,” Mrs Karnstein continued, “we let Carmilla pick. You or me. Best friend or mother. Her choice.”

“Deal.” Laura had never spoken so fast.

Then she finally looked at Carmilla, her reflection shining in the mirror. Frozen. The wedding dress slipping around her shoulders and held to her chest with a single hand.

Carmilla’s eyes showed nothing but terror.

And Laura felt a flicker of fear.

Chapter Text

The longer Laura looked into the reflection of Carmilla’s terror-filled eyes, the heavier the word ‘deal’ sat on her tongue. Still, she stood firm. Feet planted solidly between Carmilla and Mrs Karnstein even as the ridiculously tiny wedding dress continued to ride up her thighs.

She had bigger monsters to slay.

“Well come then Mircalla,” Mrs Karnstein’s voice filled the room, swirling like air currents that could not be avoided. “You’ve heard our little proposition. It’s time to finish this entire ill-advised charade that you attempted to perpetrate with Miss Hollis. We have much more important things to be doing and I’ve slaved for weeks to get you this afternoon’s meeting. The very least you could do is show me a little support after my years of work covering your weakness.”

She didn’t even bothering to look at Carmilla as she spoke, preferring to shuffle through the papers in her arms, “Tell Hollis to leave and we can be on our way to success. I’ve got a plan in place to mitigate this entire disaster you got us into.”

Ever cell in Laura’s body screamed to turn around and look at Carmilla but doing so would put her back to Mrs Karnstein. If she wasn’t facing her then she wouldn’t be able to keep her away from Carmilla. So instead, she locked onto Carmilla’s gaze in the mirror.

“Carm?” she said quietly.

Carmilla said nothing. The wedding dress was still falling off her pale shoulders, her frame suddenly looking so thin and lean as Carmilla drew into herself. A single hand pressed tight against her chest, kept the dress from falling but let the back of the dress pool around her waist. Dwarfing her in the fabric that had just helped her shine so brilliantly.

Now the colour had disappeared from Carmilla’s skin, lips almost ashy, until she was just pale skin surrounded by a pale dress and broken only be the dark hair tumbling over her shoulders where Laura had pushed it moments before.

Laura would have given anything to go back to that moment.

The hand across Carmilla’s chest flexed, moving like it wanted to run through her hair in the way Laura had seen a hundred times before but unable to. Still, Carmilla said nothing.

But Laura knew Carmilla’s face. Better than her own perhaps.

There was no face she’d spent longer staring at.

Her throat bobbed once. Twice. Still no words coming.

“Carm?” Laura repeated. This second time, Carmilla’s reflection snapped to her but their eyes still managed to avoid meeting in the mirror. Carmilla’s eyes just a little too low. Something in her face nudged at Laura’s memory but she shook it off, settling for the way Carmilla’s gaze seemed to be focused on her lips.

Even if she wanted eye contact. Brown eyes that couldn’t go pale and white even if Carmilla had tried.

Laura’s voice was low, the one her Dad had her practice for using on the spooked animals that he was convinced were going to attack her, “Hey. I’ve been thinking about what you said? About how I couldn’t say things like that to your mother?” Her smile was wry as she gestured to the room, “Say things like this to your mother. And how it just made things worse and you wanted to ‘avoid the negative consequences associated with confrontation? I know I said I’d let it go but… I couldn’t.”

She shrugged, letting her hands fall to her sides and keeping her eyes on Carmilla’s even if her reflection wouldn’t meet Laura’s gaze. Giving a jaunty half-hearted thumbs up motion, she added, “You know me. Can’t just let something go.”

“What is your point, poodle?” Mrs Karnstein cut in.

“I am getting there!” Laura said, trying not to snap but feeling the thread that was her control fray just a little further, “I get to say my piece.”

Laura pushed on. “I wish I could say that this all doesn’t matter but it does. That I could just let it go the way you wanted me to but I can’t let go that you’re hurting. I can’t.” Laura’s fingers grasped at the empty air in front of her. Eyes on Carmilla’s reflection, “Because all I know is that, in all my years of investigative reporting, you’re the one I’ve found most worth fighting for. You and no-one else.”

She would not cry.

Two girls in a university dorm room and late night burger runs and a tiny run down apartment and cupcakes and kisses and held hands and snowy willow trees and feeling nothing but safe when Carmilla waltzed her through the world and rested her forehead on Laura’s own.

She would not cry.

“And I know that I’m stubborn and idealistic and still just a little bit naive but if I’ve learned anything since that first year in our dorm room, I’ve learned it from you.” Laura took a deep breath, “The best thing we can do with whatever strength we’re given is to help each other. To be as kind to each other as we can. Because I’ve watched you pretend not to care and then turn around and make me a hot chocolate or show-up when I feel like I’m about to cry or the hundred other little things you do. Carrying all this stuff…” she flailed her hands in Carmilla’s mom’s direction, “and still going on. Right now, we can do something. You can do something.”

She paused.

“You can walk away from her and do whatever it is you want. You can stop the damage.” Laura finished, “Not for me or your mother or the people or Mattie or anyone. Just for you. I know you can. It’s just hard. Really hard. And I want to save you but maybe a hero isn’t one thing that one person is supposed to be by themselves? Maybe we can all be heroes for each other and ourselves? Maybe I can be your hero or help you be one? Cause. Well. Carm.” Laura’s words were soft, “You’re my hero. Always have been.”

She would not cry.

Laura held her chin up as the words lingered, watching every twitch of Carmilla’s face that still would not meet her gaze. Her chest melted at the quiver of Carmilla’s chin. The glimmer of wet in Carmilla’s eyes.

She would not cry.

“Oh poppet.” Mrs Karnstein was actually laughing and Laura’s hands curled into her sides. Feeling, for just a moment, that she wanted to shrink away.

“This isn’t a story.” Mrs Karnstein continued, “This is just life. Where there are no heroes. Why, you’re in this mess because Carmilla is anything but a hero. Her dragging you in here to solve her own problems. Disrupting your life with her callous attitude and inconsequential needs. She’s selfish. You were happy in your little journalist life and yet now you’re here. Stuck dealing with this whole mess.”

Carmilla jerked like she’d been slapped, something hardening in her spine.

But still no view of her eyes.

Mrs Karnstein used a single finger to pluck a tear from her eye as the laughter died and continued, “I’ve known Carmilla far longer than you have and trust me, she has spent her entire life proving over and over that she is nobody’s hero. Yet, your answer is to double down and ask her to be one?

“Yes.” Laura raised her chin, “Yes.”

Shaking her head, Mrs Karnstein said, “You’re insane.”

“Quite possibly.” Laura said, “Don’t care.”

Her skin prickled as Mrs Karnstein’s eyes raked over her, “You know, dear, I don’t say this to everyone but you truly are something special. The world is at your feet. I’ll admit that I don’t think much of reporting but you do represent the best of it. I’m an excellent judge of character. And you will do great things. A waste of talent really. I could have done greater things with you. Carmilla is nothing in comparison.” She sighed and Laura didn’t know what to feel. “But, I can admit that you are one of the best of your generation.”

“I’m sure Mircalla would agree,” Mrs Karnstein added. She paused, gaze drilling into Carmilla. Waiting for a response.

In the mirror, Carmilla’s eyes went a little bit wide. Brow crunched. Gaze darting between Laura and her mother.

And Carmilla spoke.

“Of course,” she said, “Laura’s incredible.”

Mrs Karnstein nodded and smiled, “See. My glittering girl knows her place. She knows excellent when she sees it, just as I do. Wouldn’t ever want to bring it down. Why, I’ve only worked so hard with Carmilla to elevate her and help eliminate her flaws. You think we’re at cross purposes Miss Hollis but I assure you, everyone here simply wants what’s best for each other. For Mircalla. For you.”

Laura’s head was spinning, trying to keep up. The villain was not supposed to complement the heroes. That wasn’t right at all.

Mrs Karnstein brushed her hands together and clapped, “Well then. Carmilla. Unfortunately, Miss Hollis and I are at odds during this juncture. What’s your choice? Your loving mother who only wants what’s best for you or your best friend of a journalist who has an amazing life ahead of her?”

Carmilla paused.

Her head was down and both hands moved up to her chest to tangle in each other as she held the dress. Laura frowned, Carmilla’s breath was coming out hard like she’d run a marathon and Laura couldn’t pinpoint when that had started.

Carmilla’s voice was firm, “Could I have a moment to change please? Alone?”

“Of course.” Mrs Karnstein said immediately. She swept towards the door, “Please don’t dally darling, we have things to do.”

Laura followed. Slowly. Still trying to find Carmilla’s eyes. She almost made it to the door when she spun around, Mrs Karnstein now safely out the room. “Carm?” She called.

Carmilla looked up and their eyes met.

The feeling of familiarity rose in her chest all over again as she traced the lines of Carmilla’s face. The downward tilt of her head. The flutter in her throat and the tightness in her lips. The unquirked eyebrows above the flickering of her eyes.

She knew that face. It tickled in the back of her head like a memory but with so much time staring at Carmilla, so many years of memories, it was nearly impossible to discern where it came from.

Then Carmilla’s eyes stopped flickering and just stayed still.

Silent and resolved. The barest hint of a question as they stared out at her. Brown and small and dull. But firm. Strong. No twinkle but a resolution carved in stone.

She knew that face. That face. That face.

Laura’s stomach dropped. It twisted and slid and memories that she’d fought so hard to pin down shoved against the cage she’d locked them in. Taking advantage of the fact that she’d so recently thought it might be okay to take them out again.

This was the face in those memories, the one that capped them off and made her shove them in a cage, where they would never emerge again.

But here it was. Staring at her.

Laura’s hands started to tremble, words pounded against the sudden blockage in her throat as though the tears she hadn’t let flow were stuck.

Not this face. Never this one. A face she’d only seen once before.

Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Laura wanted to scream the words.

This time was supposed to be different.

She went to step back into the room, words of argument and choices and love bubbling on the tip of her tongue. The door shut. One of the sales people pulling it tight as Mrs Karnstein watched with a knowing eye.

The door was shut but Carmilla’s face was burnt onto the backs of Laura’s eyelids. A memory unbidden.

Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.

She wouldn’t cry.

She walked across the store in a daze, falling into one of the plush couches that were pocketed between the wedding dresses. Moments later, Perry fell in beside her

Laura’s words came out mechanically, as she fought the numbness trying to wash it’s way over her skin, “I don’t really want to talk about weddings or campaigns right now, Perr.”

“I know, I just thought,” She paused, gently putting her binders on the coffee table beside them, “that perhaps you could use a friend.”

Laura’s laugh emerged as a half sob and she let herself slump slightly in Perry’s warmth as Perry hand patted her knee.

They simply sat in silence, Laura’s eyes fixed on Carmilla’s changing room door as she tried to ignore the hushed whispers of Mattie and Mrs Karnstein in the corner. The door was all that mattered. Carmilla was all that mattered.

She tried to block Carmilla’s face from her memory, clinging to the shredded remains of hope.

Carmilla had asked her to stay. Twice now. A single word.

Stay.

Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.

“I think she’ll pick you.” Perry always spoke so matter of factly.

The memories surged again. Laura shook her head, “I’m not. I don’t. She might not.”

“Laura,” Perry turned to face her and gave her a mothering look, “That girl is in love with you. Everyone can see it.”

Laura swallowed hard, “You didn’t see her face.”

“What face?”

“The one,” Laura’s voice wavered, “The one she made right before she left me last time. She made it again. Today. Perr.” She choked, “She’s gonna leave me again.”

“She’s not going-” Perry started.

Laura knew her whisper was broken and she didn’t care. The story she never told was falling out, “I thought she loved me then too. Just like now. It was in fourth year. We had that apartment off campus, about a year after she broke up with Elle? Remember? I had that crush on her and Laf made us go to one of Kirsch’s parties to get my mind off her. ”

#

Laura’s Fourth Year of University

There were probably things worse than having 8 full beers accidentally dumped on you at a frat party but, as Laura climbed the apartment stairs with her beer-soaked clothes sticking to her skin, nothing immediately came to mind. Clinging to the banister, she focused on putting one foot in front of the next. Just in case the couple of drinks she’d actually managed to drink decided to make the floor move.

Thankfully, the floor stayed still.

Laura Hollis. Not a lightweight.

With a fistpump at her own accomplishment, Laura kept climbing until the seventh apartment on the third floor loomed in front of her. Sliding her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her key and winced at the stickiness of her fingers. She opened the door and quietly shut it behind her, apologizing to the doorknob for the beer-residue she was leaving behind. Then, she yanked off her beer-soaked shoes, trying to bounce quietly on one foot as she pulled them off.

Being quiet was only polite. At 2am most people were asleep.

Which meant Carmilla was wide awake.

Which, frankly, was what Laura was counting on. There was only one thing that made her usually stand-off best friend let Laura snuggle her.

The excuse of tipsiness on Laura’s part.

This was really the only reason why she kept finding herself getting mildly buzzed and then bailing on the party. She didn’t even like parties. But. Carmilla cuddles were amazing.

The whole thing was turning out to be unfortunately habit forming.

Even when she said that she was done with Carmilla cuddles, she still ended up home at 2am with the easy excuse of ‘her buzz’ to warrant a snuggle.

Not tonight.

Except.

Carmilla’s voice slammed into her from living room, paying no mind to the ‘be quiet’ rule, “Wow cupcake. I can smell you from all the way over here. When I said, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’, I didn’t think you’d go swimming in a keg.”

“You say that like you expect me to believe you’ve never gone swimming in a keg,” Laura shot back.

“We’re not all as tiny as you,” Carmilla called back, “You’re the only one small enough to fit.”

“Laura’s tiny. Haha. So original.” Laura deadpanned. She shuffled down the hallway and into the living room. With every movement her wet clothes unattached and re-attached to her skin in the grossest way possible. She found Carmilla lounging across the couch. Her laptop was balanced on top of a pizza box on the coffee table, poli sci textbooks sprawled around them.

However, in her actual hands was a philosophy text that Laura had seen her a hundred times before. Eyes locked on the words.

“Nice to see that you’re working hard,” Laura picked her way through the mess.

Carmilla still didn’t look up. Her nose crunched in a way that definitely wasn’t adorable, “I’m not the only one. How much did you drink if you smell like the bottom of a barrel?”

“It wasn’t the drinking part that was so much the problem.” Laura debated flopping onto the couch next to Carmilla but Laf’s teasing words about ‘crushes on roommates’ ran through her head. Then there was the whole beer soaked thing. That stain would probably never come out.

Plus. Not tonight. She wouldn’t bend to Carmilla cuddles even if everything in her just wanted to snuggle in. The warm weight of Carmilla’s arm against her side and the soft smell of her neck with every breath.

No. Don’t go there Hollis.

She nudged the pizza box, trying to shove the empty box aside without knocking Carmilla’s laptop over. Her shirt squelched where it glued itself to her abs.

A strangled sound from the couch had her looking up; Carmilla was finally looking at her. Cheeks almost red in the dim light as she stared. Laura’s breath caught as she followed Carmilla’s eyes, watching them sweep her from head to toe. Pupils darkening.

It would be silly to hope.

And yet. She could literally feel her stomach flip in response.

The stomach under her objectively awesome abs.

Laura tugged on the bottom of her shirt then crossed her arms as she sat on the coffee table, “Kirsch’s zeta bros accidentally dumped an entire tray of beers on me.”

“Imbeciles,” Carmilla muttered.

“So I came home,” Laura continued, “Because it’s just a little bit gross and I wasn’t even having that fun a time cause you weren’t there and Laf and Perry just left to make-out even though they think they’re being subtle. Kirsch tried but he got all ‘bro’ and then Danny kept being all pushy.”

She tried not to notice the way Carmilla sat straight up at that comment.

“You need me to punch her?” Carmilla offered.

Laura had to fight against her smile. The slight haze of the beer making it nearly impossible even as she said, “Ignoring the fact that it’s not okay to punch people,” Carmilla just shrugged at her words, “your offer has to be declined. I broke up with her. I don’t get punching rights.”

“The offers stands,” Carmilla said, something like concern on her face. She shimmied forward, knees brushing against Laura’s. Book forgotten beside her.

Laura’s fingers twisted in her shirt, “That’s weirdly sweet? I guess?”

Carmilla snorted, “I don’t do sweet, cupcake.” Then her eyes flashed, something sultry dropping into her tone as she moved just a little farther into Laura’s space. The beer smell lost in everything that was Carmilla, “Although, you’re pretty sweet yourself and I’d definitely do you.”

Laura could physically feel her face flush red as she reared back, “Carm! Not what I meant.” She buried her face in her hands.

It was worth it because Carmilla started laughing, “You make it too easy.”

“You’re the worst.”

Carmilla just grinned at her and Laura couldn’t help smiling from between her fingers. Might as well take advantage of the situation, “I demand an apology in the form of food items. Plus you left me to go to that party alone and there was nothing to eat there but pretzel sticks. I want pizza. Noooo. Cookies.. Ice Cream.” Her mind flashed with options, “No! No! Wait. Those chocolate croissants? You know the one beside the flower shop? I want them!”

“It’s two in the morning,” Carmilla said, “They’re not open.”

Laura let her bottom lip jut out and put on her best puppy dog eyes, “But I want them.” Her hands were on Carmilla’s knees before she could even think about stopping herself.

Carmilla didn’t lean back. Instead, Carmilla’s hand came up and skimmed her cheek. Laura had to force herself not to lean into the touch. Then Carmilla tucked a piece of hair behind Laura’s ear, the smallest smile trying to poke through underneath serious eyes. Just when Laura thought she was safe, Carmilla’s hand came back to cup her jaw.

Warm and soft.

“You’re killing me, Hollis,” Carmilla said.

Laura swallowed. Hard. Staring into those big brown eyes.

“Tell you what,” Carmilla said, “Let’s get you cleaned up and in the shower before your beer smell literally kills my nose. Then I’ll get your tiny tipsy butt something to eat.”

“Croissants?” Laura breathed the word, too focused on Carmilla’s hand on her chin.

Carmilla shook her head, “I’ll see what I can do. For now,” she stood and hauled Laura to her feet. Touch light and careful. Reverent. “Let’s get you in that shower.”

Laura let herself be led to the bathroom that connected to her room, “You know, you don’t have to look after me Carm. I’d be okay. I don’t want to be a bother.” Anything to get that hand off her lower back where it was burning a hole through her clothes.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “I know that, cutie. But we’re sort of stuck together until the lease is up and if someone doesn’t make sure you eat then you’ll probably get hangry and torch the house down while I sleep.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

Carmilla followed her into the bathroom, shoving a towel into her arms and turning on the shower as though she thought Laura wouldn’t be able to figure it out. “Your nerd onesie is on the bed.”

Then she disappeared, the door shutting with a click behind her.

Twenty minutes Laura was practically sighing at the cuddly softness of her TARDIS onesie, the stickiness of the beer completely gone. Even better was the smell that hit her in the face when she re-entered the living room.

Carmilla was camped out on the couch with a bag of the best crappy hamburgers from the best crappy hamburger joint in the city. One of the burgers already half shoved in Carmilla’s mouth.

“You went out and got our burgers!” Laura chirped, then put her hands to her chest dramatically, “Carm. I didn’t think you cared.”

She got a muffled mess of a word in return, the burger preventing Carmilla from her usual cutting sarcasm. So Carmilla simply sighed and held the other burger out to Laura.

Laura should have gone and sat in the arm chair. She knew that. The logical part of her brain was very clear on that.

But.

She was tired and Carmilla was warm. Carmilla was soft. Carmilla was sitting there at 2:30 in the morning with Laura’s favourite burger that she’d gone out to get. Their burger. Carmilla’s mouth was full of burger and even though her hands were nowhere near Laura, she could still feel them burning through her skin.

2:30am after a party was the only time Laura could admit that she might falling for Carmilla.

So Laura flopped onto the couch, took the burger, and snuggled into Carmilla’s side. She melted into the warmth, the snuggliness of the onesie nothing to the feel of Carmilla’s soft skin under her cheek. Chest moving slowly up and down. Almost immediately, Carmilla’s arm curled around her like it had just been waiting for an excuse.

Warm and solid and hooking around her shoulders until Carmilla’s hand rested on her hip.

Laura took a bite of the burger and let herself sigh, shifting even farther into Carmilla’s side. Carmilla’s cheek fell to the top of her head.

The TV was buzzing quietly in front of them but for Laura there was nothing more than small bites of burger and the soft up and down of Carmilla’s chest.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Carmilla’s thumb spun small circles on her hip, feathery light touches that just made it through the fabric. The room was dark and quiet and still. But amazing.

Everything Carmilla was.

Like she was during every 2am snuggle, only to disappear later. Except. Not entirely. Little bits of 2am Carmilla lingered. Sometimes Carmilla would just look at her and Laura’s heart would jump. Sometimes Carmilla made her hot chocolate or forced her to stop working too hard assignments or rubbed circles on her back or read little bits of her books outloud.

Shuffling slightly, Carmilla somehow pulled Laura even closer and something leapt in Laura’s chest like it never had with anyone else.

Like it was 2am every day, all the time. If only Laura could reach for it.

When the burger was gone, Laura tilted her head back just enough to catch Carmilla looking down. Carmilla’s gaze flashed away as soon as Laura found her. Eyes going back to the TV but her teeth catching her lip and biting down.

What would it be like to bite that lip?

“Carm?” Laura didn’t know if what came out of her mouth was a word or a sigh or a prayer.

It didn’t matter because Carmilla looked down, the light of the tv dancing over her skin. Lips tilting closer, “You okay there, cupcake?”

Laura’s hand slid across Carmilla’s stomach. Purposeless. Simply tracing patterns with her fingertip as her breath caught with every twitch of Carmilla’s stomach. A square. A star. A spiral. A heart.

“Cupcake?” there was a breathlessness to Carmilla’s voice that Laura’s heart didn’t know what to do with.

“We’ll always…” Laura paused, licking her lips in an effort to reduce some of the dryness that had stormed across her mouth, “We’ll always be best friends, right? You like having me around? Or would you want me to leave once the lease is up and we graduate?”

She could literally see the sarcastic comment pass across Carmilla’s face but it never left her mouth. Carmilla caught it, pausing. Eyes assessing. Instead, all Laura got was sincerity covered by the thinnest layer of levity that allowed Carmilla to actually be sincere, “Of course, you goof. You wore me down. Like a tiny, sugar-filled fungus.” She grabbed the hood of Laura’s onesie and gently settled it over Laura’s head, pushing her hair out of her face.

Her words were light but even as Laura gazed out from the hood half covering her eye, she could see the softness on Carmilla’s face.

The tightness of her hand on Laura’s waist.

“Really?” It was the only word Laura could get out. Her brain too busy whirling like the constellations that Carmilla loved so much.

“Laura,” she straightened slightly when Carmilla said her name. It came out rarely, lost in Carmilla’s preference for nicknames. Cutie. Cupcake. Creampuff.

But tonight.

Laura.

“I always want you to stay,” Carmilla said, “I’d never ask you to leave.”

If her heart had been confused before it was anything but now. She could find nothing but truth in Carmilla’s face; all sharp angles and soft eyes. Her heart double timed. Expanded. Stretched. Settled. Begged the rest of her to do something. Anything.

So she moved. Laura slid to the side, refusing to part herself from Carmilla’s warmth, and so ended up in Carmilla’s lap. Pressed chest to chest as her hands slipped up to grasp tightly, almost frantically, at Carmilla’s collar. If cuddling Carmilla was one thing. This was another.

Warm hands settled on her waist.

“Laura?”

She was so close that she’d never miss a word Carmilla said. Laura took a breath and closed her eyes. Leaning in, she pressed her forehead to Carmilla’s and almost sobbed in relief when Carmilla didn’t try to move away. If anything, her hands slid a little farther around Laura’s back.

Still, Laura kept her eyes closed, “You know that phrase my Dad always says? How we only need to have one moment of courage? One moment of courage is enough if it’s the right moment?”

She felt Carmilla nod.

Laura took a breath and felt Carmilla’s breath sweep across her face in return, “One moment of courage.” Laura whispered.

She moved the missing inch.

Laura kissed Carmilla.

One moment of courage.

She kissed Carmilla softly, her mouth closed and the pressing of her lips no more than a butterfly whisp. Something quiet and soft and sweet like the stars and everything Carmilla was even though she pretended not to be. A first kiss that felt like a first kiss.

Laura was prepared for it to be an only kiss.

She was prepared to be left with nothing but the lingering feel of softness to press into her pillow and cry small tears for when no-one was looking.

But.

Just as she was pulling back, eyes still closed as the smallest breath of space appeared between them, Carmilla lunged forward. Her hands closed around Laura’s back to pull her in closer and their teeth clanged together a little bit but it really didn’t matter because Carmilla was kissing her. She was warm and there and her mouth was moving in a way that was almost frantic as Carmilla’s palms pressed tightly to Laura’s back. So tightly that Laura was literally pressed flushed against her.

Laura’s eyes flew open when she was forced to pull back to breath. Except, she didn’t bother breathing. Because she was sitting on Carmilla’s lap and she’d just kissed Carmilla and the words were literally unstoppable, mind a blank slate as they poured out, “One moment of courage right? And I just really wanted to kiss you and I’m sorry that I kind of kissed you without asking and I probably should have checked first but I was kinda afraid of running out of courage and I’m sorry I just grabbed you. Except you kissed me back so you’re probably okay with it except maybe you were just being nice and-”

Even when her brain wasn’t working, the rest of her was. Her nose was lost in the scent of leather and vanilla shampoo that came from Carmilla’s hair. Her thumbs were rubbing small circles on Carmilla’s neck, sliding down her skin. Her tongue was still reminding her that she’d just kissed Carmilla.

Her eyes caught the smile blooming over Carmilla’s face.

Big and bright and the most carefree thing Laura had ever seen.

And she was still talking, “and I just really wanted to kiss you so I did. Which in retrospect, was-”

She didn’t get to say anything else because Carmilla moved closer and Laura’s breath hitched. Slowly, smoothly, still smiling, Carmilla moved up the inch between their faces and kissed her all over again. This time was slower. Surer.

A smile come to life in the way she kissed like lazy saturday movie nights and hot chocolate sundays. Laura melted into her.

Laura could feel Carmilla’s smile and, as her hands wound into the small hair’s behind Carmilla’s neck, her own smile broke out. She didn’t even bother trying to stop it. She just squeaked when Carmilla broke away only to come back and kiss her again. And again. And again.

“So I guess, it’s okay that I kissed you?” Laura managed to get out.

Carmilla’s head fell but her smile stayed firmly in place, a laugh leaking out that set Laura’s heart on fire in the best way. “Cupcake,” she said, “it’s very okay that you kissed me.”

“Cool beans.”

She wanted to facepalm.

Carmilla just laughed and kissed her again. The slightest bit of heat crept into the kiss as Carmilla’s tongue swept into her mouth, doing something that made the beginning of a moan build in Laura’s chest. It leaked out slowly, lost between each kiss and pulled out by the tug of Carmilla’s hand in her hair, readjusting the angle of her head. The moan escaped fully then and Laura pressed forward, grinding deeper into Carmilla’s lap and chasing Carmilla’s warmth.

One of her hands dropped, fiddling with the bottom of Carmilla’s shirt.

Abruptly, Carmilla pulled back, her smile fading slightly as worry took it’s place. Her hand moved to Laura’s face, forcing her to look in Carmilla’s eyes, “How drunk are you?”

“Not at all,” the answer came easy, “I had like two beers a couple hours ago. I’m completely fine.”

Carmilla’s brushed the onesie hood off her hand and tangled her hand in the back of Laura’s hair. Laura couldn’t resist slipping her hand under Carmilla’s shirt, enjoying the sharp inhale from Carmilla as Laura’s hand found it’s place on the bare skin of her waist.

“You sure?” Carmilla pressed.

“Carm,” Laura couldn’t help but smile at the concern in Carmilla’s eyes, just managing to cover something still burning in the back that Laura was quickly coming to label the sexiest thing Laura had ever seen. “Trust me. I’ve wanted this for a long time. Sober moments included. I just didn’t have the guts to think you wanted me too.”

It was Carmilla’s turn to press her forehead against Laura’s, “Of course I do. Always have since this prissy roommate burst into my life and turned it upside down with her notions that everyone deserved better. Even me.”

“Especially you,” Laura said.

“One moment of courage,” Carmilla said.

Laura took the advice. Slowly, she removed her hand from Carmilla’s shirt. Ignoring the cool air as her hand protested leaving all the creamy skin, she popped the first button on her onesie. Then the next. With each button, she could feel Carmilla’s eyes locked on her. Feel the blush rising back to her cheeks to spread across her chest. Feel the heat of the moment return like an old friend.

The only thing underneath was the ratty bra she’d thrown on after her shower.

But as the fabric fell aside, she felt anything but ratty. Carmilla looked at her and swallowed. Hard. Her hands landing on Laura’s waist like she was holding something precious, letting the fabric pool over her hands. The oversized shoulders barely clinging to Laura’s arms.

Almost hesitantly, Carmilla’s hand slipped around to rest on Laura’s abs and Laura had to close her eyes against the feeling as Carmilla moved slowly. So slowly. Dragged her hand upward to eventually rest on Laura’s pumping heartbeat.

Only then, once Carmilla stopped moving, did Laura open her eyes and lean in.

Gently, she bit Carmilla’s bottom lip. Trapping it before kissing it all over again.

She lost herself in the feeling of Carmilla’s lips. Carmilla’s hands. Carmilla’s bare skin. The cool air and warm bodies as they came together and separated. The bite of the doorframe on her bare back. The softness of Carmilla’s sheets. The waves of hair between her fingers and the smoothness of skin under her palms.

The stars shining through the window behind them

Only one moment shone concrete between the feelings, Carmilla pressed naked against her and whispered plea, “Promise me,” Carmilla begged as she kissed Laura’s ear, “promise me that this is real.”

Laura clutched at Carmilla’s shoulder blades but still found it in her to find Carmilla’s lips and kiss them softly, “I promise.” She said, “It’s real. I promise.”

Then it was back to nothing but feelings. Small bites and quick kisses. Wandering fingers and twisted legs. Soft and sharp and warm and fast and slow.

The feelings faded into sleep. A kiss on her temple. A snuggle into Carmilla’s body that was better than any snuggle before it. A warm arm around her back and smooth skin and a soothing hum.

Laura smiled.

Laura slept.

Laura woke up alone.

It took her a minute to notice. She stretched, the smile already on her face as the soreness in her muscles melted into the best kind of stretch. After all, it came from the best kind of sore. Laura snuggled back into the sheets, letting herself sink into the Carmilla smell surrounding her with every fold of the fabric.

Then she frowned and re-extended her arm. There was nothing but empty mattress beside her.

“Carm?” she mumbled.

No response. Popping her eyes open, Laura pouted to find the bed as empty as it had felt. She shrugged, ignoring the fact that the pair of Carmilla’s sleep shorts she’d borrowed were on backwards, and tugged the blankets around her shoulders like a cape. Then she headed for the door, sun shining in the window behind her.

“Carm?” Laura called, stepping into the living room with the warm snuggliness of the blankets, “Not that I don’t appreciate your newfound decision to wake up before noon but I’ve decided that I’m bringing the bed to you. I’m calling a lazy day. With kissing.” She added, “lots of kissing.”

She automatically turned towards the couch frowned when she found it empty.

Laura took a few steps farther, “Carm?”

Her only response was silence. The hum of the furnace. The tick of the old clock. A rattle in the pipes and the buzz of the fridge. Laura froze, fingers digging into the blanket. None of them were Carmilla sounds. Carmilla was quiet but Laura always knew when she home. The hundred little sounds that made her up were written along the lines of Laura’s ears.

The soft tread of her feet. The flip of a book page. The quiet thrum of a guitar string. The opening of the fridge. The tap of a keyboard.

None of them were here.

Laura was alone in the apartment.

Carmilla was gone.

Laura was sitting on the couch before she’d even realized that she’d buckled. For a moment, she clutched the blankets even tighter as her mind whirled through a hundred different scenarios. But it kept coming back to the same one. The one that had her throwing the blanket off her shoulder as the warmth became suffocating.

Carmilla never got up early.

Except.

Unless.

Laura had seen this a hundred times before. She’d just never expected to play a part in it. The blanket fell to the ground as she felt her eyes unfocus. Breath too fast. Carmilla wouldn’t. She’d never. Not. No.

Not to her.

The sob erupted from her chest in a single dying sound before her brain even acknowledged what she already knew. The sound hung, empty and alone in the air of the apartment.

Carmilla ran away after one night stands. Every time.

Laura swallowed against the next sob. Throat tight and heavy and sore as tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

Carmilla wouldn’t. Not to her.

Except.

The behaviour was the same. Carmilla got up early and left the girl to see herself out of the apartment, texting Laura to confirm that they’d gone. She left them to empty bed like the one Laura had just found herself in. Dozens of girls. Dozens of mornings. The same pattern. The only deviation from her usual 2pm wake-up time.

Laura glanced at the clock, barely 8am. Her usual waking time.

Hours early for Carmilla. Unless it was intentional.

She always left the girls alone. Avoided them until they simply left. The few that tried to stick around were summarily ignored. Cut-off. Ostracized.

Cut-off.

Laura was on her feet in an instance, pacing across the room as her brain leapt into overdrive. Every step in the empty apartment sounding like the loudest thing in the world.

Her. Carmilla, her best friend, was going to cut her off now that they’d slept together and was probably holed up in some coffee shop halfway across the city trying to figure out how to avoid her. Avoid Laura.

Her heart throbbed. Hands clenched on her bare knees.

Her imagination leapt. Except, there was no good way to avoid Laura because they lived together. Her brain jumped to images of broken leases and Carmilla moving out and never seeing her again. She’d seen Carmilla go to extreme lengths to avoid a girl. In third year, Carmilla had literally spent two weeks in Europe to avoid one. Laura had gotten a free vacation out of it.

Because they were best friends.

Laura pulled up sharp.

She was going to lose her best friend. She was going to lose the most important person to her all over again. Laura shook her head, “No.” She declared it to the room, “No. No. NO!” The tears leaked out as her voice cracked on the last one.

Then quieter, “No.”

Quiet and broken, she let everything slip into that no. She closed her eyes and just let herself feel the tears on her cheeks. The pain in her throat. The shattered bits of her heart. With a deep breath against the sob that wanted to come, she forced herself to remember the feel of Carmilla’s skin on her own. The press of her lips. The way her smile had lit up the room and the way Laura had simply felt like she fit.

She let herself remember it all.

Then, with a deep breath, she shoved it all into a box in her head and locked it away. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Laura went searching for her cell phone.

She wasn’t losing her best friend. Not for anything.

She’d just forget.

So, sitting cross-legged on her bed, Laura clicked the facetime app on her phone and located Carmilla. She had more than enough time to paste the biggest smile on her face while it rang. For a moment she thought Carmlla wouldn’t pick up.

Then she did. A raspy “Hey, cupcake” coming through the connection.

It almost broke her resolve. Laura simply refused to look at the screen, at the assuredly awkward look that would be on Carmilla’s face. She’d fix this. She’d fix this. She wasn’t losing her best friend. She’d seen enough on the screen to know Carmilla was at a coffee shop of some kind, exactly as imagined.

So she smiled and gave her best impression of a hangover, “Ugh. So apparently I ended up in your bed last night.”

The line was silent for a moment and Laura was almost tempted to look at the screen. Instead, she focused on Sir Bearington The Third; the teddy bear sitting stoically on her pillow.

“You don’t remember?” Carmilla’s voice was small.

Probably relieved.

But Laura couldn’t help imagine that she heard disappointment. She pushed past it and laughed before fake holding her head, “Guess Kirsch somehow talked me into having more of those beers than I thought. You know that Zeta jungle juice. Wicked stuff. It’s mostly just blurs. Had some weird dreams though. I’m surprised you’re up.”

Carmilla’s answer was slow, “Yeah. I was just getting a few things. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

“Oh, cool. Okay. Sounds good.” Laura said. Then her treacherous heart pushed something from her mouth before she could stop it, “Did anything happen last night worth remembering?”

There was a pause.

Laura knew she shouldn’t do it but she couldn’t help it.

She looked at the screen. Carmilla’s head was tilted downward and her throat fluttered. Lips drawn tight. Her eyes flickered from Laura to something Laura couldn’t see and back again.

This wasn’t a face that Laura had seen before.

“Laura, we-” Carmilla cut herself off.

Laura leaned forward, uncertain as to what she wanted. She’d given Carmilla the out. The way to leave and forget this whole thing. If Carmilla told her the truth, they’d have to confront that. But. Maybe. That would mean that last night meant something to Carmilla.

Maybe Carmilla would want her to remember.

Carmilla’s eyes flickered once more then stilled, landing on Laura and holding her gaze.

Silent and resolved. The barest hint of a question as they stared out at her. Brown and small and dull. But firm. Strong. No twinkle but a resolution carved in stone.

“You know how cuddly you get when you’re drunk,” Carmilla said, “Guess you got cold or something because you insisted that I sleep spoon you because of best friend privilege.”

She didn’t know what to feel.

Carmilla wanted her to forget.

“Well that sounds embarrassing,” Laura forced herself to say, “Glad I forgot it then.”

“Yeah.” Carmilla let the word hang.

“See you later then,” Laura said. Carmilla nodded, holding the line until Laura hung up. She threw her phone across the room and into her laundry basket where it thumped against the clothes.

She looked at herself in the mirror, all bedhead hair and red eyes. Carmilla’s t-shirt clinging to her chest. “You’re keeping your best friend,” Laura told her reflection, “This is a good thing. A good thing. She was running and you stopped her. She’s not going to leave. This is good.”

Her throat bobbed even as she forced a smile.

“We can just be friends,” she said, “Just friends.”

Some Carmilla was better than none.

Except.

There was a hicky peeking out from the shirt collar and as her fingers came up to brush it gently, Laura’s face collapsed. She whirled, burying her face into her teddy bear and letting the tearless sobs out. Just big gasps for air that never seemed to be enough. The bear’s fur pressed against her face, safe and nonjudgmental.

If Carmilla wanted her to forget, then she would.

Just friends.

But. In the safety of her room there was time for one last confession before she locked them all away. Whispered in the ear of the only comfort she had left.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” Laura whispered into the teddy bear, “I’m in love with her.”

End Flashback

#

With the wedding dresses around them, Laura couldn’t even look at Perry, “That’s the face,” Laura said to her knees, “That face she made right before she told me that we’d just cuddled. She just made that same face now in that change room. It’s her hard decision face. And I know that her mother makes it hard for her think. But. I just.

Her voice turned harder than she’d intended, “She’s going to ask me to forget we were together. Again. I can’t Perry. I can’t. Not again.”

“Laura,” Perry’s hand covered hers, “You don’t know that.”

Laura sank a little deeper into herself, “I just. Why can’t we just be happy?”

“Have you talked to Carmilla about any of this?” Perry asked, “You know that communication is key. She’s your best friend, isn’t she?”

“Of course.” Laura said at Perry’s prompt.

“Then you know Carmilla cares about you.” Perry said, “And this situation, isn’t that one.”

“But the face was the same and-”

Perry cut her off, voice firm, “You both lied the last time Laura. Carmilla may have told you that nothing happened but you told her that you didn’t remember. That’s on both of you. This is different. You put all your cards on the table and Carmilla knows how you feel.”

Laura hesitated, the silk of the tiny wedding dress soft under her fingertips.

“Laura. You did talk to her didn’t you?” Perry’s voice went into the high range, “You told her that you loved her? That you remember?”

“Not. Exactly?” Laura admitted.

Perry shook her head, “The two of you. I swear. You’re going to turn both Lafontaine and I grey prematurely. You need to talk to that girl. Communication!”

The door to the change room opened and Laura’s head flew up. She rose to her feet on autopilot, smoothing the dress down. Her head spun with a hundred different memories of her and Carmilla, those remembered and those supposedly forgotten. But always with her.

Mrs Karnstein also looked up, expression blank. However, Mattie’s expression was tight as she took the files from her mother and walked away, deeper into the shop.

But the only thing that mattered was Carmilla. She appeared slowly in the doorway, dressed back in her dark blazer. Head down. Eyes hidden behind her hair. Her walk was slow, a trudge more than her usual slow saunter. Slowly, her head came up and her eyes landed on Laura.

No hesitation. Drawn together like magnets. Carmilla looked at Laura like she was drinking her up, taking her in, absorbing as much as she could.

“Carm?” Laura’s voice was soft but carried easily in the quiet tension. She took a step forward, letting the sweater slip from her shoulders as its snuggliness suddenly felt too warm.

Too warm when Carmilla was looking at her like that.

Eyes big and brown and warm and soft.

“Don’t drag your feet, Mircalla,” her mother snapped, “I told you. We have places to be. Let’s not inconvenience Miss Hollis any further.”

The warmth immediately vanished from Carmilla’s eyes, something slamming down in front of them. Silent and resolved. The barest hint of a question as they stared out at her. Brown and small and dull. But firm. Strong. No twinkle but a resolution carved in stone.

Carmilla flinched back then drew herself up, lifting her steps and her spine in one movement. With one last look at Laura, she turned , “Of course mother. My apologies. There are simply a few matters of discussion before we continue to our next appointment.”

Laura’s throat closed. Her breath vanished. Her fingers went cold as though the heat had been leached from entirely. Laura heart didn’t just shatter, that would have been too easy. Shattered pieces are numb. Instead, Laura felt a million hopes and dreams drop into her stomach, vanished in an instant like someone had reached inside and scooped them from her heart.

Any objections dying with them, unwilling to even bother pushing past the clog of tears in her throat.

Carmilla was still talking, “I want Laura taken care of. I want all of her expenses from her time here paid for as well as her flight home. First class. I want you to guarantee that she has her job back and her apartment. No funny business. I want you to guarantee that you or any of your associates will never bother her and that she does not get blamed in any way for whatever public break-up story you choose to concoct.”

“Of course. Anything for my glittering girl.”

Carmilla still wasn’t looking at her.

Wasn’t looking at Laura and the piece of her heart that was lying somewhere on the floor between the wedding dresses.

“Miss Hollis,” Mrs Karnstein called, her voice feeling far away, “My team will look after you. I expect you’ll be gone by this evening. Miss Perry, time to go.”

A hand fluttered on her shoulder but Laura hardly felt it.

Carmilla had chosen.

Still Laura looked up. Laura looked up in time to see Carmilla look at her as she walked out the door. As she chose her mother. As she left.

Leaving her with the image forever burned on her eyes of what it looked like when Carmilla left her.

Leaving her with something resembling a heart. One that could still beat but each pump rang empty. Each burst of blood through her veins nothing but a reminder that everything hurt. Everything was empty. Empty. Empty.

The tears burned in her throat but never made it to her eyes.

It just burned. Everything burned.

She’d fought so hard trying to help Carmilla - lost so much trying to keep her friendship in her life. Past relationships. A romantic relationship with Carmilla. And the moment came and Laura had pushed too hard. Pushed too hard. She’d forced Carmilla to make a choice without even considering what that might mean. Who she was fighting against. What had been done to Carmilla. She hadn’t cared. When she thought Carmilla could be free, she’d just wanted to save her.

And she lost. She lost everything.

Carmilla had chosen.

Laura sank to her knees, unmindful of the expensive wedding dress she was wearing. She just sank to the ground, eyes on the door that Carmilla had just left through. Heart full of pain and slowly going numb. Just another girl in a white dress that she’d never get to wear, watching the girl she loved walk away. Wedding dresses around to play to witness, a mockery of every dream she’d never get to have.

Carmilla had chosen.

And it wasn’t her.

#

Laura walked through Carmilla’s apartment in a daze, grabbing her things and throwing them in her suitcase while one of the Karnstein’s chauffeurs stood by the door. Waiting.

She just threw them in haphazardly, the shirts she’d hung in Carmilla’s closet. The onesie lying on the couch. The old band shirt of Carmilla’s that was her new pajama. Each one hit the bag with increasing force, sending it rocking at the end of the bag.

She threw Sir Bearington in and that was it. The whole thing tipped over, spilling everything across the floor.

Sucking back the anger that felt more productive than the sadness curling in her veins, Laura walked over to pick it up. She didn’t bother with folding, just dumped the whole lot back into the bag, a jumbled up mess of soft fabric.

Except not.

When Laura plopped everything back in the bag, something small and hard rose to the top.

She froze, unable to look away at the small box that had stayed hidden in her bag since she’d came to Ottawa. Unopened since the moment her Dad had given it to her with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

Moving slowly, Laura reached for it. The velvet coating of the box was soft under her fingers as it opened with a satisfying snap. In the middle on a bed of silk sat a diamond ring, sparkling in the sunset shining through Carmilla’s window.

Elegant. Old-fashioned. Gold cleaned thoroughly where it had once been black with ash.

Laura ran a finger over the simple solitary diamond placement.

Her mother’s ring.

Her own hand caught the light, something else glinting in the sunset. The ring Carmilla had given her. The fake ring for the fake relationship.

And yet.

For those few hours, for that one date, it hadn’t been fake. As much as Laura wanted to cry foul and claim that Carmilla never cared about her. She couldn’t do it. Laura shook her head as though it could clear the tears finally forming in her eyes. She wasn’t some twenty year old kid worried that her best friend was using her for a one night stand. She knew better now.

She knew what abuse tasted like now. What that did to a person. What it was going to keep doing.

She knew Carmilla better now.

Had fallen in love with her in a whole different way. A different glimmer of sunlight and a different touch of starlight.

The ring on her finger shone just as brightly as the ring in the box.

Laura slid the ring off her left hand and let it rest in her palm, hands shaking slightly as she looked from one ring to the next. The ring Carmilla had given her under supposedly fake pretenses that felt more than real. The ring she’d meant to give Carmilla that was anything but fake.

Carmilla had made her choice.

Laura made hers.

She left one thing behind.

Then she quickly packed her bag and let the chauffeur take her to the airport. As the plane took off, she watched the city lights until the turned into dots that mixed with the stars until up was down and down was up.

Finally. Finally. Laura cried.

#

The apartment was dark when Carmilla got home, 2am flashing on the nearest clock. Mechanically, Carmilla put her jacket in the closet and threw her keys on the side table. Then she picked them back, slipping them on the hook.

A ‘there is no reason to make a mess, Carm’ running through her head.

She paused in the front hallway and took a deep breath. Just in case. Maybe. Perhaps. “Laura?” Carmilla called.

The apartment was quiet. No response.

“Laura?” Carmilla took a step farther, trying to ignore the tremble in her voice. She automatically looked to the couch but found it only empty. TARDIS onesie gone. Blanket perfectly folded.

She tried one more time, closing her eyes, “Laura?”

Her only response was silence. The hum of the furnace. The tick of the old clock that Laura made them buy at a flea market while undercover on her first big case. A rattle in the pipes and the buzz of the fridge.

None of them were Laura sounds. Laura sounds were full of life. The beat of a pop song with quiet sing-alongs. The vibrant hum of camera gear. The quick click of laptop keys. The squeals of joy during a good book. The talking back to the tv.

None of them were here.

Carmilla was alone in the apartment.

Laura was gone.

Carmilla slumped into the kitchen chair, ignoring the missing pack of cookies on the counter. She held her head in her hands, letting the feelings wash over her. The quiet and the silence and the empty.

She’d made her choice.

It would be fine. She would be fine. Laura would be fine because she wasn’t here. Wasn’t here. Was living her life in Toronto without all this nonsense and Carmilla would be fine without her. She would be.

Still Carmilla didn’t move from the window, eyes on the stars, until the sunrise began and the stars faded. Her bed would be full of nothing but the smell of Laura. Laura. Laura. She didn’t know how to face that when the stars were up.

This was what she chose.

This was what she wanted.

She closed her eyes against the whisper in the back of her head that said something different.

This was what Mother wanted.

Not her.

Never her.

She wanted Laura and Laura wanted her.

Shaking her head, Carmilla walked to her bedroom and pursued her lips against the images that it contained. She made it four steps into the room.

Four steps under she let her eyes land on the bed.

Four steps until she saw what was sitting on her side of the bed. Not on Laura’s. On Carmilla’s. Obvious and carefully placed. Not forgotten, intentionally left behind. Carmilla’s hand flew to her mouth like her mother had taught but even that wasn’t enough to stop the gasp from ripping through her to be alone in the silent apartment.

Except not alone.

Not quite.

Laura had left her the one thing that Laura never left behind.

Stumbling to the bed, Carmilla ignored how everything was blurry between the tears. Her crying quiet as the apartment around her. Still she reached, she didn’t need to see to feel the fuzziness pressed against her chest.

Carmilla crumbled.

Carmilla cried.

Carmilla fell asleep clutching the fuzzy body of Sir Bearington the Third like the teddy bear was everything. Tear tracks dry caverns on her cheeks and another secret whisper left curling in the teddy bear’s fluff.

“I love her.”

Chapter Text

When Carmilla logged into the video chat, the tiny circle beside Laura’s name flashed green. Online. She stared at it, fingers hovering over the mouse. For the past three weeks Carmilla had logged on every single Thursday night and every single Thursday night Laura was logged in too.

Just a click away.

It had been three weeks since Carmilla had walked out of the dress shop. Had walked away from Laura. Had left her sitting on the floor.

Yet here Laura was, logged in like it was just another Thursday night roommate call. The same as they’d done for years before this whole fake dating debacle had started.

All she could do was stare at the green dot.

Carmilla’s apartment was quiet; her only companion the stuffed bear that sat in the center of her bed. Tilting her head from where she was slumped on the couch, Carmilla could just make him out through the sliver of open doorway. Sir Bearington’s eyes told her the same thing they did every day:

Just call Laura.

It wasn’t that simple.

She never came as close to calling as she did on Thursday nights. Thursday night was their night. Moving the mouse in a slow circle, Carmilla circled around and around the tiny green icon. All she had to do was push it and the call would go through.

She hovered the cursor right over the button, teeth playing with her lip.

Laura haunted the apartment. The shirt she’d forgotten in the laundry basket. The scratch marks from her camera tripod. The bump in Carmilla’s internet bill. The smell of her in Carmilla’s sheets.

In short, Carmilla missed her. She missed seeing her everywhere. Hunched over the desk with her laptop in front of her. Hands whirling as she spoke to the camera. Stealing a cookie from the kitchen. Dancing through the living room. Looking down at Carmilla with sleepy eyes from the next pillow.

She was only the click of a button away. Carmilla’s fingers hovered over the mouse.

Then she put the laptop down, hand running through her hair instead. She didn’t get to call Laura; Carmilla had made her choice. Her hand trembled at the thought, catching in the knots hiding under her hair. Maybe when it all was over. Maybe once her mother backed off.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Mattie’s laughed in her head.

Her mother would never back off.

As if summoned by the thought, her phone rang. Carmilla froze on instinct then scrambled to answer it before the voicemail would pick up. She never knew exactly what would set Mother off. Her hello was drowned out under a flurry of words as her mother shot words at her like a canon.

“We absolutely must discuss the debacle that was last evening’s fundraiser,” her mother said, “We nearly lost the support from two key constituents due to your distraction with those children. I’ve told you a hundred times. You only need to bother with the lower end of our consistency for the photo opportunity, otherwise, don’t waste your time on that drivel. It’s not a hard concept darling.”

The smiling faces of the kids danced in her head but she shut them down, “Of course mother. My apologies.”

“Thankfully,” her mother continued like Carmilla hadn’t spoken, “I was able to save the evening and ensure their continued support. But I won’t be able to make up for your ineptitudes all the time Mircalla, at some point, you do have to shape up and truly become my glittering girl.”

Carmilla stood a little straighter, “I’ll do my best.”

“I doubt that will be good enough but it will have to do,” Mrs Karnstein said, “Now, I’ve got a list of items that I need done to absolute perfection in the next week. I won’t settle for anything less, especially seeing as I’ve given you all the simple tasks.”

Her mother began to spout off duties and activities as Carmilla scrambled for a pen. The bullets seemed to go on and on and on. She scrawled across four sheets of papers, notes filling even the margins. The list seemed endless. Conversations with people she didn’t care about. Causes she had no research on. Speeches that she wasn’t prepared for.

She was so busy writing that she was barely listening but something in her head set off an alarm bell when her mother said, “And of course, this will be foundation for your first major bill that we present to the House. We want to make sure that we get the right people behind us from the get go, with plausible deniability of course. So make sure you present the desired appearance at this meeting instead of that apathetic countenance you usually take.”

“My first bill?” the words were out before Carmilla could flinch away from them.

There was silence over the line.

Cold. Hard. Silence.

Carmilla flinched. Her shoulders coming up.

“I apologize for the query,” she said quickly, “but I feel I will be best prepared if I understand a fuller picture of your plan.”

Her mother’s voice was reserved, perfectly calm to any outsider, but the click of her tongue and the enunciation of the letters had Carmilla fighting not to freeze entirely. “Don’t you worry yourself about it darling,” her mother said, “I’ve already started drafting it up, all you need to do is use that beautiful face of yours to present it.”

Her mother already had a bill for her to present. A bill she’d never seen or heard of.

“Shouldn’t,” she ventured, “writing bills be my job?”

Laugher. The response she got was laughter that curled in her gut and sent ice through her bones. “Darling, you let me concern myself with the details. I’ll take care of everything as I always do.

She pushed, “But perhaps it should-”

“Mircalla. Leave it be.” Laughter gone, “I’ve gone through all the effort of getting you elected and I’ve performed miraculously well considering the continual pot holes you keep insisting on inserting into my finely tuned planned. That’s not going to stop once you’re in the House. You’d crash and burn in an instance without me. Stop asking questions and just do as you’re told. After all,” her mother finished, “I only have your best interest in mind.”

Carmilla’s chest burned. Breathing oxygen suddenly seemed like a heavy task.

“Now,” her mother continued as if the whole thing was settled, “Stop moping over that ridiculous girl and get your head back in the game. Sometimes I wonder if these squabbling constituents of yours will ever agree on anything but we don’t have to worry about that when I’ve got you. Those children will agree on you as their representative. I’ve got a plan darling and we cannot have you ruining it. Just wait, soon enough everything we wanted will come to fruition.”

Her mother hung up without a goodbye, leaving Carmilla with a burning chest and no air. The phrase ‘everything we wanted’ ringing behind her. The true scope of ‘the plan’ falling through her head.

Her mother. Was not. Going to stop.

Blindly, she sunk into the couch. Head swirling. Muscles tight. Something screamed inside her as a hundred thoughts she’d refused to have poured through her head. Images of her future and her mother’s voice bombarded her on a hundred sides. She dropped her phone.

Blindly, she reached. Blindly, Carmilla reached out and let her reflexes take over.

Moving closer like she always wanted to but rarely let herself.

When the thoughts in her head cleared enough that she could focus, Carmilla found herself staring at her computer screen. Laura Hollis looking back out at her.

They just stared at each other, the only sound was the subtle crunch of Laura finishing what was very obviously a whole cookie that had been stuffed in her mouth. There was an ache in Carmilla’s chest when Laura reached up, brushing her hair behind her ear, and her ring finger was bare.

Of course it was.

“Carm?” Laura said at last.

Words. She needed words.

She only found one.

“No.”

Laura frowned, “What?”

The word settled in her bones, “No.” Carmilla repeated, “I won’t do it. She can find someone else to play her hero.”

Three weeks apart and this was all she could come up with. Even if her brain could only focus on her mother, the words and memories rolling over and over inside her head, her eyes could only see Laura. Three weeks and it felt like a lifetime.

Carmilla had sent her away and yet Laura had still answered her call. Laura had dark circles under her eyes and a blanket tied like a cape around her neck as she sat straight up in her office chair with a stack of papers beside her that looked taller than she was. Despite all that. Laura had still answered Carmilla’s call.

Laura put a second cookie down, her fingers playing with a necklace that disappeared under her swaeter, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, no.” Carmilla knew she was going to have give Laura more than that, explain more than that. “Just because I’ve let her run my life for years doesn’t mean I’m just going to keep rolling over and letting her do whatever she wants. Doesn’t make me her puppet.”

“Carm,” Laura leaned closer to the screen, her eyes big and brown. Voice soft, “What happened?”

It wasn’t enough to stem the anger curling in Carmilla’s stomach. It wasn’t enough to stop what felt like decades worth of straightened spines and ducked heads from crumbling around everything that lived underneath. Anger and rage and fear and fear and fear.

“What happened is that I would have liked to think that maybe she actually loved me instead of some ideal campaign piece that she made up in her head and then sculpted me into. I thought that if I just did what she said, just listened hard enough, just worked enough, that she’d see me.” There was emotion choking her throat and Carmilla didn’t know if it was tears or anger, “That I could be the glittering girl she always wanted. That I could be enough. That I could be ideal.”

Her brow scrunched, face trembling, and she couldn’t even bare to look at Laura.

“Ideal?” Laura’s tone bore frustration, “Carm, you’re already ideal. That’s not something you have to become. Sure. You mess up, like, I can’t exactly say that it didn’t hurt when you just left me in that store and choose your mother over me but that doesn’t make the person who you are any less.”

“But that’s part of it!” The words exploded out, her eyes meeting Laura’s in desperation. Laura who’s face was twisted in pain even though her eyes were still kind. Soft. Sad.

Carmilla had made her sad.

Again.

“That’s who I am, Laura. I chose her over you.” The fury was still there but underrun with desperation, a need to make Laura understand. Carmilla refused to look away even if looking Laura in the face cut into her; Carmilla dug her hands into her thighs and kept looking.

She continued, “She gets inside my head and twists me up until I want is make her happy. She does that. She makes it seem like every success is because of her and every failure is because of me and that if I can just do as she says, I’ll get everything I ever wanted. And I believed her. I believed her,” Carmilla repeated, “I believed her to the point where she had me convinced that everything I ever wanted was to walk away from you. Even though I knew it wasn’t, I did it anyway. To make her happy or to keep you safe or because I’m not good enough for you or whatever hundred reasons I use over and over again to rationalize her words and my actions.”

“She’s emotionally abusive,” Laura said, sincerity blasting through the connection, “We can beat her.”

“You don’t think I know that she’s abusive? Of course I know that. I’ve known that for years.” Carmilla held up a hand, stopping Laura’s inevitable tirade, “Somethings can’t just be beaten. She’s inside of me, in my head, everywhere and I don’t know how to get her out.”

The bite was still there but Carmilla’s words were softer, “Every time I tell myself I’m going to do it different, I don’t. Not for long. Something inside me feels like it will always be this abused girl going back to her for validation. Like it’s part of who I am. Laura. You can’t expect all of that to evaporate just because I love you.”

The words were out before she could stop them.

Hanging in the air between them. Hundreds of kilometers between them.

I love you.

Part of Carmilla screamed to claw them back, to stuff them inside where they couldn’t be found. The other part was frozen. Small and scared and frozen and looking at the tear tracks on Laura’s face with no idea when Laura had started crying. The red blotches that always appeared on her skin when she felt too much. The tiny drop of her open jaw as she stared at Carmilla. Just stared through red eyes and hundreds of kilometers.

Just staring as Carmilla let three unintended words hang in the air like her heart held in her hands. Held out to Laura. Hers for the taking. To stomp or cherish.

It only seemed fair considering what she’d done to Laura. Laura’s stricken face as Carmilla had chosen her mother ever lurked in the back of Carmilla’s head.

Laura said nothing.

Mouth wide. Eyes watery. Not even a teddy bear to soak up her tears because she’d left him for Carmilla.

One more moment of courage.

Carmilla took a breath, “The effects of emotional abuse don’t go away just because I love you.”

I love you. Spoken twice. Spoken true.

Carmilla’s heart held out between them.

And Laura took it, just not in the way Carmilla expected. She took a breath to match Carmilla’s own and said, “I didn’t forget you. I could never. I was just scared.”

Carmilla frowned, “Didn’t forget what?”

“That night in fourth year university. Our night.”

Carmilla’s heart stopped. A rose and a kiss and stars pushing all other thoughts aside. More than six years and still as vivid as ever.

Laura closed her eyes and the words flowed like water, “I told you I forgot when I didn’t. How could I forget you? It’s just. I got scared. I never know how I’m supposed to feel around you or what I’m supposed to do because you’re you. You’re everything. And I was so afraid because you kiss me and it cracks me open and all my stupid, messy hopes come tumbling out in ‘maybes’ and ‘somedays’ and I was afraid and I lied and how is that fair?”

Carmilla’s voice was low, “Who the hell cares about fair?”

“I do!” Laura’s eyes snapped open, “You do. Hell, we both do. Maybe, this whole mess between us is just the way things have to be but that doesn’t mean I have to accept it. I deserve better than that. You deserve better than that. So here’s what’s fair. The truth.”

Laura took a deep breath and Carmilla couldn’t help but feel like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest, “The truth is that I lied and that I remember every moment from that night but when I woke up that morning you were gone and I was terrified that you’d panicked and that you didn’t want me and that I’d lose my best friend.” Laura’s voice trembled, “And that would be the worst thing of all. Worse than never kissing you ever again and having to watch you date other people when all I wanted to do was date you. I couldn’t lose you. So I lied because you left and I couldn’t let you leave.”

Carmilla hardly moved as Laura spoke. The story pouring off Laura’s tongue and filling in gaps that Carmilla hadn’t even realized existed.

When Laura finished, the words finally running out, Carmilla stood and took the laptop with her into the bedroom. Mechanically, she worked her way through a box of cookies from the hidden stash under the bed that Laura had forgotten to grab in her haste. The one that Carmilla hadn’t yet removed.

“Carm?” Laura’s voice was soft. Vulnerable.

It made sense. It all made sense in the worse and most twisted kind of way. The kind of way born from all of her own past mistakes.

“You thought I was leaving you?” It came out smaller and more broken then she’d expected.

“I. Well.” Laura fiddled with the necklace by the neck of the sweater. Carmilla’s sweater. She sighed, “All those other girls, Carm. You always left them. Ran until they were out of your life. And you ran from me that morning.”

Carmilla closed her eyes. It all made sense.

Reaching out, she pulled her oldest copy of Camus off the bookshelf and pulled out a rose. A dried rose, still red as the day she bought it but flattened nearly paper thin.

She twirled it between her fingers, the smallest smile at the crinkle of confusion on Laura’s face, “Oh Laura,” she said at last, “you were always so much more than those other girls.”

#

Laura’s Fourth Year of University - The Morning After

There was a buzzing on the nightstand beside her. Carmilla groaned and buried deeper into her pillow, ignoring the alarm. She never even set alarms. Laura must have snuck in and done it in an attempt to get her to actually go to class.

The alarm kept right on ringing.

Just as Carmilla was about to fall back asleep, something shifted beside her. An arm flopped out, grazing the bare skin of Carmilla’s arm as it sought the alarm.

Laura.

Carmilla’s brain finally woke up and she had the alarm off in a flash, arm extending behind her to turn off the cell phone that she’d set for herself. The buzzing stopped and Laura hummed, clearly happy with the decision and snuggled in closer to Carmilla. Slowly, Carmilla brought her arm back around to gently smooth some of Laura’s messy hair. Laura tilted slightly into the touch, the smallest smile on her lips as Carmilla’s fingers grazed the shell of her ear before following the curve of her neck, down her bare shoulder, and back up again.

She couldn’t help but smile back as Laura fell asleep, lulled back to bed by Carmilla’s touch.

Her fingers took a detour, drawing soft circles around the hickey that had appeared on Laura’s collarbone. She leaned in and gave it the softest kiss as her hand slipped even further to enjoy the softness of Laura’s skin before settling at her waist to count the smooth skin of her ribs.

Laura wanted her. Had apparently always wanted her.

Carmilla drew her head back, falling onto the pillow and almost snorting at the way Laura slept open mouthed with a little drool threatening to fall. Her best friend was such a dork.

A dork who had kissed her.

She’d kissed this dork.

Maybe they were both dorks.

Even though all Carmilla wanted was to snuggle back into Laura, pressed skin to skin, and fall asleep; she forced herself to get up. Throwing on some clothes, grabbing a book, and snagging her phone, she paused on her way out the door to press a kiss to Laura’s temple, “I’ll be right back,” she said, “I promise.”

It was ten blocks to Laura’s favourite chocolate croissant shop and Carmilla strode through the door right as they opened, “Can I get three chocolate croissants?” she called.

Laura would eat two all on her own.

The woman behind the desk nodded, “They’ll be fresh from the oven in fifteen minutes if you want to wait?”

Carmilla waved the book, her favourite copy of Camus, “Of course.”

She settled into the warm window ledge, eyes flitting over the page more than reading. She’d just gotten to the line - In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer - when she slid a napkin in as a bookmark and turned her face to the sun instead. As much as she loved the stars, there was something alluring about the sun.

Laura always teased her about curling up in sunbeams. Like a cat.

The smile broke out over her face all over again and Carmilla couldn’t even be bothered to try and smosh it. Laura wanted her back.

She was broken from her annoyingly sappy thoughts by the waitress calling her order. Carmilla thanked her, took the bag, and headed out the door. She stopped at the shop next door on a whim, the proprietor dragging urns of fresh cut flowers outside to try and lure customers in.

Looking at the croissants in her hand, Carmilla sighed around her smile.

If she was going to go sappy, might as well go all in.

She bought a single rose.

Other girls got daisies or pansies but Laura, her Laura, was worth the cost of roses. She was worth the cost of setting early morning alarms and worth the cost of getting out of bed and worth the cost of chocolate croissants.

She was Laura. It wasn’t even a question.

Croissants and rose in hand, Carmilla made it five blocks before her phone started ringing the annoying pop-tastic ringtone that Laura had picked out for herself. Fumbling to pick it up without revealing the surprise in her hand, Carmilla answered with her best raspy morning voice, “Hey, cupcake.”

The picture clicked in and Carmilla had to smile at the image of Laura smiling back at her with a hickey poking out of the top of her t-shirt.

She really wanted to kiss it again.

Except something itched at the back of her head that there was something wrong with laura’s face. With Laura’s smile.

She didn’t even time to figure out what was wrong before Laura shattered Carmilla’s smile, “Ugh. So apparently I ended up in your bed last night.”

Carmilla’s heart shattered and Laura wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, Laura was glancing somewhere off screen. She gripped the phone harder, as though it could change Laura’s words. Her own words came out small, “You don’t remember?”

Everything in her begged Laura to look at her and smile and say that of course she remembered. She’d promised. She’d promised it was real and that she wanted Carmilla.

Instead, Laura said, “Guess Kirsch somehow talked me into having more of those beers than I thought? You know that Zeta jungle juice. Wicked stuff. It’s mostly just blurs. Had some weird dreams though. I’m surprised you’re up.”

Carmilla looked at the presents in her hands. They shook slightly even as she forced the hand holding the phone to stay still, “Yeah,” she said, “I was just getting a few things. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

“Oh, cool. Okay. Sounds good.” Laura’s voice was so nonchalant that it pierced straight through her. Laura didn’t care. Laura didn’t remember.

Carmilla was just another worthless thing, worth forgetting about.

“Did anything happen last night worth remembering?” Laura’s words cut through the sound of Carmilla’s mother in her head.

Carmilla looked away from the screen but couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes from bouncing back to Laura. Something almost earnest in her expression. This was her moment. Her choice. She could just tell her. “Laura, we-”

Her voice cut off. Her mother’s voice louder than ever in her head.

Worth forgetting about. Don’t be a burden.

She stared out at Laura, voice on autopilot, “You know how cuddly you get when you’re drunk. Guess you got cold or something because you insisted that I sleep spoon you because of best friend privilege.”

She tried to force away the image of sleepy Laura shifting closer to her, soft skin slipping against Carmilla’s body. The image of Laura kissing her way down Carmilla’s chest.

Laura was red. Carmilla tried not to think about how cute it was, “Well that sounds embarrassing. Glad I forgot it then.”

Glad she forgot it.

Glad she forgot it.

“Yeah.” was all Carmilla could say

“See you later then!” Laura said. Carmilla nodded. Even with those words, she couldn’t bring herself to shut down the line. She just watched Laura until the screen went black and took her brief morning of happiness with it.

Numbly, Carmilla pocketed the phone and tried not to think about Laura going through her morning like was any other. Completely unaffected but maybe wondering where the hickies trailing down her neck had come from. She’d probably ask later.

Must have been quite a party is what Carmilla would say.

Would say.

Later.

When pretending was easier. When she didn’t still smell like Laura Hollis or have hickies of her own or have scratches down her back that matched the shape of Laura’s hands. Right now, Carmilla just walked. Numbly. Nowhere to go because the only place she could go was Laura.

And Laura had forgotten.

And Carmilla hadn’t told her the truth.

So Carmilla just walked with her hands full of croissants and a book and a rose. She walked until her legs burned and she didn’t know where she was anymore. She walked until she saw her own face in the mirrored window of some store.

Her eyes were watery, face puffy.

A single sob ripped out as she slammed her fist against the store’s brick. Just one.

Stuffing the rest of the tears down, Carmilla whirled and slammed the bag of croissants into the nearest trashcan. The rose went to follow but her fingers wouldn’t quite let go.

Couldn’t quite let go.

Her hand trembled, hovering over the trash.

She sunk to the ground, crouching on already burning legs. Her head in her hands, a rose pressed against her forehead.

With a shuddering breath, she shoved the flower inside the book and started the long walk home.

#

There was silence in the air between them as Carmilla watched Laura process everything she’d said. Her voice was raw from talking and Laura didn’t look much better, curled up with her knees to her chest in a chair that suddenly looked a hundred times too big.

Hundreds of kilometers away.

When Laura finally spoke it was a laugh and a sob lost in a headshake, “You weren’t running.” She slammed her hand into her face, “I’m an idiot.”

“I should have told you the truth,” Carmilla said, “or left a note. Or something.”

“We both should have done a lot of things.”

A hundred different things that both should have done lingered in the years between them. Everything from a told truth over croissants to an engagement ring pressed into the top of a cupcake. At least all their lies were consistently served with baked good products.

Although that was probably just attributed to Laura’s sugar problem.

Laura shoved another cookie in her mouth, “Well, now we know?” She offered, “it’s all out there. I remember. You weren’t running. We’ve communicated so Perry can stop sending me berating emails and Laf can stop sending winky emojis just because I accidentally told them that it was the greatest night ever and they keep making sexual jokes and-”

Laura’s eyes went wide and her face went red as her brain caught up with her mouth.

Carmilla didn’t even try and stop her grin, “Greatest night ever, eh?”

Laura spluttered. It was amazing. She finally managed to spit out the words, “That’s not even the point.”

“Oh, I think that’s exactly the point,” Carmilla said.

“Carm.”

Laura’s voice was firm and Carmilla let the bravado drop.

“The point,” Laura said, “Is that you didn’t call to talk about us. You called to talk about your mother and we got sidetracked. A good sidetracked. I think. But still sidetracked.” Carmilla’s gut sank at her words. “What’s she done?” Laura asked.

“I’d rather talk about us.” Carmilla grumbled.

Laura bit her lip, “I’m not sure that ‘us’ is something we should even be talking about right now.”

Carmilla recoiled slightly, “Right. Fake engagement. My apologies for getting acting confused with-”

“NO! NO! NO!” Laura slammed forward, face right in the camera, “No. Nope. no. Don’t you go down that rabbit hole when we just got the whole communication thing down. That was a real date and I like you a lot and no-one should be confused about that.”

“Okay…” Carmilla said slowly, trying to follow Laura’s train of thought around the small flame of hope springing to life in her chest.

“It’s just.” Laura sighed and pulled the necklace from where it was hidden under her sweater. Carmilla’s eyebrows went straight up. Strung around the end of the necklace was the engagement ring she’d given Laura.

The tiny hope flame got a little bit larger.

Laura fiddled with it and continued, “I think it’s more important that you figure out what you want your life to be before we talk about an ‘us’ of any type. That way I can’t influence you to do something you do want to. What you want to do with your career and your mother and just everything.” Her head slammed up and the words came a little faster, “That’s not an ultimatum either. I already made that mistake and I’m not doing it again. If it’s what you want you can work with your mother and I can still be your best friend. I pushed too hard and I won’t make that mistake again. But...”

Carmilla waited.

Laura gnawed on her lip, “I think maybe you need to know for you what you want. Not because I want it or because your mother wants it. Just, what do you want Carm?”

What did she want.

Laura Hollis, always with the big questions.

She could only come up with one answer, picking up the notes she’d written, “I don’t want this. I can’t do this anymore.” Her gaze unseeing through the window, “I don’t want my mother dictating my every move and I don’t want to feel small any more.”

And I want you too.

“So change it,” Laura made it sound so simple.

It was never that simple.

Except.

She’d told herself that calling Laura wasn’t simple and here she was calling Laura.

She focused back in, watching Laura fiddle with the ring and picking up the dried rose. The words tumbled out. Soft and sad, “Do you miss me?”

She’d never meant to bring a fresh batch of tears to Laura’s eyes but they appeared just the same. Big tears over a small smile, “Like someone cut a hole in me.”

Carmilla nodded. What else could be said?

“Good luck, Carm.” Laura said quietly, “If you need anything at all, I’m here.”

Carmilla nodded again and cut the connection. Slowly, she put the rose down on top of the notes from her mother’s phone call. She sat on the couch, a hundred thoughts whirling as she stared at nothing but the sky. It swirled and changed.

What did she want.

It was the question and yet it wasn’t. She knew what she wanted. She’d known for years what she wanted but going after it was another thing entirely.

What do you want Carm?

Laura’s voice haunted her. Forced her to confront that which was to never be confronted.

It was two am when her hands hovered over the call button on her cell phone. A simple speech. Some simple words. It was never that simple.

She’d tried to say them before and they always failed her. Failed the way they had that little girl who was supposed to make a speech at her Father’s campaign and had ended up in a closet because she couldn’t find them.

Carmilla put the phone down.

Carmilla picked up her laptop and wrote a simple message. It was simple to press send. It was never that simple.

But she did it anyway.

The second after the message sent, Carmilla gasped like she was breathing properly for the first time that night. For the first time in years. When she picked up the cell phone again, it was easy to make the call. Fifth preset. The phone rang six times before a sleepy Perry picked up.

Carmilla didn’t bother with pleasantries, “I fired mother. You’re promoted.”

She got a strangled “What?” in return.

Carmilla pressed on, “Your first tasks in your new role are to release a press release to this effect and to make sure that Mother cannot contact me in anyway. Get her number blocked. Stop her email. Get a restraining order. Whatever it takes.”

It would be too easy to go back otherwise. Too easy let herself get reeled back in if she even saw her mother again.

Her laptop dinged and Carmilla’s eyes went wide. There was already a return message from her mother. She was supposed to be asleep. Hands shaking, Carmilla forwarded the email to Perry without opening it. That didn’t stop her from seeing the auto-populated first line of the email.

‘You didn’t think it would be this easy Mirc-’

Carmilla had felt her mother’s words creep back into her head a hundred times over. She didn’t want that. Not again. She slammed the laptop closed.

What did she want?

“And,” Carmilla added once she heard the vague sounds of a pen scratching paper over Laf’s complaints at the early wake-up call, “book a flight from Toronto to Ottawa. Email it to Laura.”

If Perry was surprised by the request, it wasn’t in her voice, “Any message to be included with that?”

Coming up with the words were simple.

“This is real. I promise. I want you to stay.”

Chapter Text

Carmilla fought her need to fidget and instead clenched her fingers tighter around the sign in her hands. The airport thrummed with life around her as people poured out of the terminals to get their luggage. Behind her, Perry was frantically talking into her cell phone while Kirsch tried to stay focused on his job rather than be distracted by the cinnabon smell drifting over them.

The smell was only making Carmilla’s desire to puke a little stronger.

She was being cheesy and ridiculous. She didn’t even know if Laura had gotten on the plane after Perry sent her the ticket. And yet Carmilla was here.

With a sign that said ‘Cupcake’.

Looking ridiculous and trying not to hurl.

She should just leave. She didn’t leave.

Instead, Carmilla planted her feet and scanned the crowd of people for the one face that she wanted to see. The people continued to pour out. Tourists who clearly weren’t prepared for the cold. Business people already on the phones. Folks who just looked relieved to be home. The crowd pushed forward and its press moved from the gate doors to the area around Carmilla.

She hadn’t seen Laura in those faces. Carmilla’s shoulders fell, ignoring the way the crowd had moved forward enough to practically run her over. She could feel Perry over her shoulder, just waiting to get back to work. With only a week until the election, there were a hundred things to do.

Carmilla didn’t want to do any of them. Growling, she shook her head and tried to spot the nearest trash can to hide her shame. No-one wanted to be that girl standing alone in an airport with a sign for nobody.

Maybe she could pretend it was Kirsch’s. Save her cool factor.

“You made me a sign!?!”

Carmilla’s head whipped around and her cool factor vanished.

Laura was grinning at her, eyes wide and her hands wrapped around the straps of a backpack that was nearly bigger than she was. Her eyes sparkled as one of her hands snatched the “cupcake” sign from Carmilla.

Carmilla’s breath caught, finally falling into place as Laura’s fingers brushed hers. Her bones settled as she stared. The worry percolating as a migraine in her temples dissipated as the smell of chocolate snuck in under the overwhelming scent of airport. Her shoulders relaxed and the smallest smile crept out.

Laura was back.

So naturally all she did was snort and say, “The sign was Kirsch’s idea. I just got stuck holding it.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Laura said.

The next thing Carmilla knew, Laura was in her space and had wrapped her in a bone crushing hug. The kind where the space disappeared between them and yet Laura still tried to pull her closer, her fingers scrambling to wind themselves in the back of Carmilla’s shirt while her face pressed into Carmilla’s neck. The kind of hug that somehow said more than a kiss ever could. Despite the strength of the hug, as Carmilla’s arms fought their way between Laura’s back and her backpack she never felt like she’d been hugged more carefully.

She pressed her face into the side of Laura’s head and just let herself breathe. Soft and slow and long. Dozens of heartbeats fluttering by without ever letting go.

So close.

“I missed you,” Laura breathed into her neck.

Carmilla pulled back just enough to tuck Laura’s hair behind her ear, one of her hands still crushed against Laura’s back, “I’m sorry.” She ran her thumb over the soft skin of Laura’s cheekbone as though she could get rid of past tears.

Laura just pulled her close again, “I know. Me too. Let’s stop apologizing for being silly.”

The kiss Carmilla pressed to Laura’s forehead was more smile than kiss. It was perfect regardless.

Laura’s eyes were still sparkling when she pulled back, her gaze sweeping over Carmilla’s face.

Then she dropped into a frown, “You fired your mother.”

“News travels fast,” Carmilla said.

“It’s on every channel,” Perry muttered behind them, “PR nightmare.”

Laura’s hands stayed on her waist but the space between them increased slightly as she worried her lip, “Please tell me you didn’t do that for me. Because I told you to do what you want and not what I want because your life should be about you and doing the things that are good for you and I don’t want to be-”

Even though she wanted to kiss Laura quiet, Carmilla simply took a step forward and eliminated the gap Laura had made between them. She wasn’t quite sure where they were on the kissing part these days and trying her luck in increments seemed the best bet. The lack of space did the trick, Laura’s mouth snapped shut.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Carmilla said, “I did it for me. She had to go. I promise. I did it for me first.”

You second. The unspoken addition that Carmilla hoped Laura could read in her eyes.

Laura took a deep breath then hauled her in again, forcing another hug on Carmilla, “okay.” she whispered, “okay. Good. Cause I really hate her.”

Carmilla chuckled but just kept holding Laura. She wasn’t going to be the first one to let go.Neither was Laura apparently.

“So, now that little bro is here can we totally get some of those cinnabons?” It was Kirsch who broke the silence.

Carmilla huffed and rolled her eyes but Laura just giggled. Interlocking their fingers, she pulled back and fluttered her eyelids aggressively, “I don’t know. Carm, can we go get some delectable cinnamon deliciousness?”

Between Laura and Kirsch it would have been like kicking two puppies.

“Fine,” she groaned. Before the word was finished, her arm was almost ripped from it’s socket as Laura took off towards the source of the smell. When Laura looked back, Carmilla knew she saw the edges of a smile on Carmilla’s lips.

#

The smile stayed on her face while Laura aggressively demolished her pastry. It stayed while she practically had to physically defend her own pastry from Laura’s appetite. It stayed when she noticed the glint of a necklace still around Laura’s neck. It stayed when Laura didn’t let go of her hand in the car and it stayed when Laura almost keeled over when the sugar rush wore off, faceplanting into Carmilla’s lap with a whine.

Carmilla just smiled and softly stroked Laura’s hair, letting the silky strands slip through her fingers.

The smile vanished when she saw the massive crowd of reporters in front of her apartment. As soon as they saw the car the reporters practically dive bombed towards it, smushing themselves against the window like flies.

As annoying as they were, their biggest crime was waking Laura up. She took one look at the window and started muttering about the death of journalism.

“Perry,” Carmilla asked, “what is this?”

Perry looked up from her phone, eyes wide, “Your mother released a statement.”

She flipped the phone around and a video filled the screen. A news anchor was on screen, “We’re now joined by former manager of the Carmilla Karnstein campaign, Lilita Morgan.”

Carmilla’s mother appeared in the split screen, her dark hair was tightly pulled back and her smile was in place. Just looking at the image had Carmilla’s stomach dropping. She dragged her sweaty palms against her pants and looked away, eyes glazing over to nothing until even the reporters throwing themselves against the window became a blur.

That couldn’t stop her from listening. Her shoulders tightened with every word.

“Mircalla has always been prone to rash decisions,” her mother was saying, “I’ve done my best to balance that out with my expertise but I do worry about her experience levels without my guidance. I raised that girl, gave her all I had. Why, I must admit that I was shocked to get the news. The betrayal nearly broke my heart. I’ve only ever tried to do my best for my darling girl, help her grow into the wonderful person I know her to be.”

Guilt twinged in Carmilla’s gut and she hated it. Hated that it was still there and she had no way to stop it.

“Well,” the reporter asked, “What do you think prompted this unexpected change?”

Her mother sighed, “I suspect Miss Hollis had something to do with it. She’d always been rather opinionated and we’ve never seen eye to eye. I worry that she’s twisted the mind of my poor girl against me without cause because of a simple grudge.”

“According to the comment from Carmilla’s team,” the reporter said, “They state that your goals for the campaign and their own are simply on different paths.”

Her mother’s smile was tight, practiced, “Miss Hollis is quite good at turning a phrase; we all know that. And even with these unfortunate circumstances, my girl knows how to best serve her constituents with a smooth transition. If we could simply get her back on the right track, I know she’d be capable of great things.”

“So you still advocate voting for Miss Karnstein despite your termination of employment?”

“I think,” Carmilla tensed, practically able to hear the glint in her mother’s eyes, “that based on the information the consistents currently have, Mircalla is the clear choice. The only reason I can think of to vote otherwise,” her tone went sharp. A tone Carmilla had heard a hundred times before when her mother was saying more that just the surface words, “would be if someone were to come forward with new information in, oh the next week, the shines a new light on my glittering girl’s campaign. A lie or false presentation or something of the sort.”

Carmilla’s gut dropped straight to her shoes, the threat was clear.

The her mother laughed it off like it was nothing, “But I assure you, nothing will come to light because there’s nothing to find. I assure you, it’s likely that this whole thing was just a small misunderstanding and I’ll be standing by my daughter’s side when she wins the election.”

Perry shut the phone off.

The car was silent. The only noise the sounds of the crowd outside.

Carmilla’s shoulders fell and her head went in her hands, “No. No. No. No. No.” Her mouth was moving but the rest of her body seemed frozen, the picture of the next week slowly painting itself across her eyes. She could see it all.

Her mother would return. Carmilla would cave, would let her back in because her mother would find a way. Because she always found a way. Because Carmilla needed her even if she didn’t want to. Her mother would come back and Laura would leave and Carmilla would win. She’d spend the next 4 years until the next election stuck in the house playing nice with politicians and signing bills her mother drafted. That would be it. That would be her life.

Carmilla stared down at her knees, watching as a hand slowly grabbed her leg. “Can she just do that?” Laura asked, “Can she just threaten us? Because that totally felt like a threat. Also. It was just rude.”

“Technically,” Carmilla could hear the strain in Perry’s voice, “it wasn’t a threat because there was nothing explicit stated but I agree that she’d insinuating a potential leak if we don’t work with her.” Perry paused, “Perhaps we should speak with her and-”

“No.”

It seemed to be the only word Carmilla could find. She took a breath and raised her head, “We’re not speaking with my mother. If we try and compromise with her at all, she’ll find a way to pull us back in.”

“Maybe we could-” Perry started.

Carmilla cut her off, “Are you even listening to me? There is no compromising with my mother. No talking or plotting or anything. She has the power. She always does. You stay away from her or you die to her demands. That’s it. I don’t care what she has up her sleeve, we’re not going near her.”

Perry’s lips were tight but she nodded. It was Laura who caught her attention. The usually fiery Laura Hollis was quiet, contemplative.

“If she actually has something on us,” Perry said, “It could ruin the whole campaign.”

“Not if we ruin her back,” Laura murmured.

“Laura. No.” Carmilla’s word were instinctual.

Briefly, the idea flashed through Carmilla’s head that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if the campaign was ruined. She squashed the thought. “She’s probably just trying to scare us,” Carmilla continued. “That’s what she does.” A hundred different memories of her mother glowering over her loomed in Carmilla’s mind. “So we just focus on ourselves.”

Laura was still quiet.

Until a particularly persistent journalist banged on the window and Laura snapped to life. Her nostrils flared. Before anyone could stop her, Laura was out of the car door and in the man’s face, “Does this seem like effective journalism to you because I have a few-”

Her voice was swallowed up by the crowd.

Carmilla sighed, grabbed the sturdiest umbrella in the car and went after her.

#

“Call themselves journalists,” Laura grumbled as she stepped out of Carmilla’s shower and wrapped a towel around herself. The rant continued as she brushed out her hair, an extra shot of aggression on the few knots that lingered. “Using brute force to try and bully people into. Ugh.” She put the hairbrush down with a tap and whirled towards the bathroom door. “I mean, come on. Getting on the interviewee side is basics 101 and they can’t even handle that. All about gossip and-”

“Are you still going on about that?”

Laura almost tripped over the hallway rug. Catching herself on the wall, one hand holding the towel in place, she looked over to find Carmilla smirking at her from the kitchen table.

Even though her feet were steady, it was enough to have Laura’s heart tripping over itself in her chest.

Carmilla. Her best friend Carmilla who had maybe been her girlfriend for a day and who was her fake fiance and who had told Laura, less than 24 hrs before, that she loved her.

She loved her. She’d told her to leave but she loved her.

It hurt to look at Carmilla but it hurt more to not look at her. The kind of hurt that had spurred Laura into pulling Carmilla into a hug the first second she’d seen her at the airport.

All Laura said was, “Of course I’m still mad! Those so called journalists practically ambushed us! There are rules for a reason. Like non-biased reporting and having your facts and not being a jerk. Those are the kind of rules people get fired for breaking and no-one here seems to care. They just push their cameras up against car windows!” She could feel the flush in her cheeks and knew Carmilla was smiling at her rage. She pointed a finger at Carmilla, “You’re their target, you should be madder than I am!”

“Hard to be mad when you’re getting all riled up on my behalf,” Carmilla said.

“Well, someone should,” Laura said. She huffed, eyes darting to the window where she could see the news vans lurking, “I could have given them a whole lecture if you hadn’t stopped me!”

Carmilla shook her head, smiling, “I don’t doubt it, cupcake.” Laura ignored the way that Carmilla eye’s followed her, tracking her every step like they couldn’t believe Laura was even in front of them.

“Well then you shouldn’t have stopped me!” She said. She paced towards the window and the balcony beyond, “I should go back out there are and finish. It would be like a dramatic balcony speech and they’ll all see-”

“Whoa.”

A warmth that could only come from Carmilla latched itself around her wrist and yanked her back until Laura’s back bumped into Carmilla’s front. “While I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Carmilla voice rumbled in her ear, “perhaps you don’t want to go out there in your current attire?”

Suddenly, Laura realized exactly how much skin was currently touching Carmilla. Her brushing the top of Laura’s bare shoulder. Her breath dusting the edges of Laura’s neck. Carmilla’s hand was warm on her wrist and the towel, barely long enough to touch her thighs, left her legs practically draped over the warmth of Carmilla’s skinny jeans.

So close.

“Not that I personally mind the view.” Carmilla added, her hand played with the edge of the towel just above Laura’s chest. Technically a neutral zone.

That didn’t stop Laura’s skin from erupting in goosebumps.

She gave herself a moment to enjoy the feeling. The softness of Carmilla’s fingers and the warmth of her at Laura’s back and the shiver that cut through Laura’s stomach. Just a moment. Just long enough to enjoy before the hurt hit her chest again. Then she took a breath, spun around, and forced a smile, “Nice try Karnstein.”

Carmilla’s face fell and everything in Laura hurt as Carmilla whisked her face back into something neutral.

“No distractions during the final campaign week,” Laura added. To try and lighten the mood, she tapped Carmilla on the nose. Laura could do normal. She totally could.

She was just thinking of the campaign. Nothing more to it.

Rather than look at Carmilla’s face again, Laura retreated to Carmilla’s bedroom and rummaged through her backpack to throw on clothes that weren’t just towels. Then she quickly added her necklace, tucking the wedding band under her shirt.

There was a small knock at the door before Carmilla entered.

When they’d gotten into the apartment, Laura practically dragged in by Carmilla, she’d just dumped the backpack and started ranting. So when she looked over and saw Sir Bearington sitting in Carmilla’s arms, her breath vanished.

Even more so when she saw a small dried red rose attached to his paw with an elastic band. There was already small blush on Carmilla’s cheeks as she held him out, “These are yours.”

She squished Sir Bearington tight, brushing her nose against his fuzzy fur. Her fingers played absently with the dried flower, “Only a few years late.”

Carmilla shrugged, “I bought it for you, figured you should get it eventually.” She took a few steps forward. Carmilla’s hand came out, retracted slightly, and landed in the teddy bear’s fur. Laura could feel Carmilla’s eyes on her. Appraising. Watching. Calculating.

She stepped back, creating space as she settled on the edge of the bed, “Is that why you sent me the plane ticket?”

Carmilla blinked. “What?”

“Why you sent me the ticket?” Laura asked, “because you can mail a pressed flower if you wanted to or sir bearington could have fit in a box if you were done with him and if you need me to dig into your mother or whatever then I could have done that online and I just-” She petered out, fiddling with the flower.

“Laura,” Carmilla rubbed the back of her neck, “What are you talking about?”

She sighed, burying her nose back into Sir Bearington. His scent had changed over the years. He’d smelled like her mom once. Fresh cookies and laundry detergent. She’d cried when that smell had disappeared, pretending for years that she could still find it.

Today, for the first time, she found that he smelled like Carmilla and the image of the badass Carmilla Karnstein curled up with her ratty old bear was enough to pull the words out, “Why am I here, Carm?”

There was no hesitation, “Because I want you here.”

It was Laura’s turn to blink, “You. You do?”

“Of course I do,” Carmilla leaned back against the dresser and stared at her, “I missed you. I was stuck talking to your teddy bear instead of you and even though he’s a much better listener I prefer you regardless of his silence. I spent weeks trying to convince myself to call you and everywhere I looked, the apartment was full of how empty it was. God, Laura.”

Carmilla’s hand went to her hair and Laura almost smiled at the familiar gesture, “Of course I want you here. I can’t remember a time I didn’t want you around, even when I was that punkass kid in university. You’re my best friend and I love you.”

I love you. Said for the third time.

Laura started crying. She didn’t mean to but her chest hurt and the pain was back and Carmilla was saying all the right things but Laura had heard them before and she was crying. Just before she buried her face in Sir Bearington’s head, she caught the look of alarm on Carmilla’s face.

“Laura. Laura. Laura,” she could feel Carmilla hovering at her side even without touching her, “Laura what’s wrong?”

She wasn’t even sure what was wrong the words were coming out, “You leave.”

Carmilla’s hands, which had been hovering over her shoulder, pulled back immediately, “You want me to leave?”

So close. So far.

Laura shook her head unsure if the sound that escaped her mouth was a sob or a laugh. That was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

She didn’t even have to focus to know what Carmilla’s face must have looked like. Brow crumpled, one eyebrow a little higher than the other as she hunched into herself slightly. “Laura, I don’t understand.”

Fair enough.

“I missed you,” Laura whispered the secret into Sir Bearington like she’d whispered a hundred other secrets but this time she said it louder. This time she said it where she knew Carmilla could hear. “I missed you and I was so excited to see you again at the airport. I couldn’t help it. I’d just missed you. I always miss you and I’m always excited when I come back.”

“I fail to see the problem here,” Carmilla said.

Laura turned her head and Carmilla was right there. Her eyes big and brown, body tense like all she wanted to do was hold Laura close and read her poetry until the pain went away. Carmilla had never been very good with crying. Bit of a panicker.

Laura loved that.

“I always miss you,” Laura repeated. She held Carmilla’s gaze and forced the words out, “and it hurts, Carm. It hurts so much. Because every time we’re together again, every time that I think we might have our happy ending. I lose you. Every time, Carm. Every single one and it hurts so much.” She hugged Sir Bearington a little tighter, eyes shut, “It hurts so so much to watch you walk away.”

Carmilla opened her mouth but Laura’s whisper beat her, “I watched you walk out of that wedding dress shop and it broke me.”

The air was heavy. Laura had just flown hundreds of kilometers to come back but it felt like there were still thousands of miles between them.

“I’m sorry.” Carmilla’s words were full of truth and apology and Laura believed them. Which made pushing past the painful lump in her throat all the harder.

“I know.” Laura said, “I know you’re sorry and I know your mom is abusive and I know that I put you in an unfair position and I don’t blame you for walking away. I’m not mad or upset or angry. I understand. I do. As best I can. But it still hurts. It still hurts so much and I didn’t realize how much until I saw you again. But I think I broke a little bit on that floor.”

She was definitely closer to full on sobbing then she wanted to be but Laura couldn’t stop the flow of words now that they’d started, “I went home and I just. I didn’t do anything that first week. I just wrapped myself up in my blanket and ate cookies and that’s it. I was like some sad empty shell until I put myself back together. And I was wondering why I’d broken so much when i knew it wasn’t your fault and I knew about your mother. And I realized.”

She hesitated, peeking over at Carmilla.

Carmilla was still here. Still watching. Still listening.

“You always leave, Carm. You always leave,” Laura said, “You came back here to Ottawa after school even though you got that job in Toronto and we were supposed to say together. And you show up for one week at a time on vacation and it’s just enough to make me fall a little more for you and then you get back on the plane. And that night when I thought we’d worked everything out,”

She gave the rose a little twirl, “I woke up to find you gone. And then I came here and we were getting along so well and we went on the date and I fell for you all over again even though i promised myself that I wouldn’t. And just when I thought we were finally together, you left me there.”

She was definitely crying now, “And none of that is your fault and I’m not mad but it hurts, Carm. It hurts so much. I saw you in that airport and I missed you and I hugged you and you’re here with roses and teddy bears and you’re saying that you always want me but all I can see is you always leaving.” She hiccuped, staring down at the flower, “I don’t know if I can watch you leave again.”

“So why me then?” Carmilla asked. Her voice was small as she stared down at the floor, “Why did you even come back to me when you could have just stayed in Toronto with your nice little life. Why keep coming back?”

Laura paused. She swallowed, watching the sun start slipping towards the horizon, “Because you’re mine.”

Carmilla breath caught and her eyes turned to Laura’s, catching and holding. Refusing to let go.

“You’re mine.” Laura repeated, “To annoy or not. To love or not. To wait for or not.”

“Laura.”

Laura shook her head, breaking the gaze, “Carm, you can’t just-”

“I know.” Carmilla caught her by surprise, “I know. You don’t want romantic crap or promises that I don’t know if I can keep. You want reasons. Arguments and facts that you can line up for an article that leads to a nice conclusion. Someone whole who can sweep you off your feet and never leave your side. But I don’t have any of that to give you.”

Laura was almost shaking, Sir Bearington squished tighter than ever before, but Carmilla’s gaze never lost her own.

“All I know,” Carmilla said, “Is that with all the people I’ve met, all the people I’ve left, you’re the only one worth coming back for. Time and time again. You and no-one else.”

The words slipped out, pulled by Carmilla’s eyes as though the lump in her throat wasn’t even there, “I want that to be enough.”

Carmilla hand came up, slowly, tentatively, and when Laura didn’t flinch away, brushed the tears from her cheek, “I know.”

Finally she let herself move, slipping into Carmilla’s orbit like a moth to a flame and buried herself away in Carmilla’s neck, “Don’t stop coming back.” The words were begging and she didn’t care, “Keep coming back.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to her temple, “Always cupcake. Always.”

Chapter Text

In the final week of the election, everything in Carmilla’s life seemed to be moving at twice the speed. Go here. Go there. Make a speech. Shake some hands. Sidle away from reporters with questions that she didn’t want to answer. Perry whirling everywhere to get her places on time. Every moment was filled with hands on her back, pushing her this way and that as she nearly ran from place to place. The world in fast forward.

Until it paused. It always paused. The world paused when Laura appeared in her line of vision.

Every single time it caught her off guard like her brain had to remind herself that Laura was actually here again. That they were trying whatever this was again. That Laura was around if she wanted to talk to her or just give her a smile.

Although perhaps not at this exact second, as Perry buzzed around Carmilla, Laura was doing her own buzzing. Her hair was pulled back and her blazer was on; a pencil behind her ear and a recording device in her hands. Investigative reporter Hollis.

As Perry took the mic from her lapel, Carmilla had to bite her lip to stop her laugh at Laura’s pinwheeling hands. Laura’s eyebrows crunched as she threw some question at an unsuspecting judge. His eyes were wide. Carmilla settled in, letting the world spin around her as she leaned against a conference hall wall.

She had her dinner break next and she’d just realized what she wanted from it. So, eyes on Laura, Carmilla picked up her cell phone and made a call.

Ten minutes later and the judge was practically running away.

Laura huffed, running a hand over her hair to catch the piece that had fallen out of her ponytail. When she turned, Carmilla let herself finally smile, “Chasing off the legislative branch again cupcake?”

Laura rolled her eyes but smiled back as she walked over, “Those weren’t even hard questions. The fact that he’s running tells me there’s something else there.”

“You’ll get him,” Carmilla said.

Laura tucked her notebook and recorder into her bag, “Of course I will. No point trying to run from Laura Hollis!”

Their past conversation ran through Carmilla head, so she leaned in. Moving slightly into Laura’s space, she let her voice go low, “Well I know that I, for one, don’t intend on running from her ever again. If I had my way, I wouldn’t be going anywhere.”

“Carm?” The crinkle in Laura’s nose and the concern in her eyes told Carmilla that Laura knew exactly what conversation they were talking about.

“Come to dinner with me,” Carmilla words were more breath than anything else.

Laura’s eyes darted to the side, “I think Perry has plans?”

“The more I think about spending an evening with these campaign lackwhits, the less interested I am,” Carmilla kept herself from moving any farther forward and sliding into Laura’s space, “I’d rather you and I had our own plans.”

“Well,” Laura took a step closer and Carmilla’s shoulders relaxed, “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Teasingly, Carmilla let just the tips of her fingers drag over the back of Laura’s hand, “I want to take you on a date.”

Laura’s eyes widened, “A date?”

“I do believe it’s my turn,” Carmilla said, “I was thinking pretty dresses, dinner, ludicrously expensive champagne, and those cookies you like so much.”

Laura’s hand twisted, catching Carmilla’s fingers between her own,”I suppose,” there was a twinkle in Laura’s eye that had Carmilla’s stomach in knots, “that I could be amenable to such a date but, you should know Karnstein, that I’m a difficult girl to woo.”

“I think I can handle it,” Carmilla let herself get cocky, using her half inch to hover over Laura.

Laura’s kissed her quick on the lips and Carmilla stuttered to a halt, “We’ll see!” Laura backed away with a grin, “Pick me up at 7:30.”
When Laura walked away, Carmilla was pretty sure that there was an extra sashay in her stride. She leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, “Still killing me Hollis.”

#

Since she’d picked Laura up 45 minutes before, Carmilla was fairly certain that she hadn’t quite been able to close her jaw for the entire duration of their date. Laura had shown up in a navy blue dress that made Carmilla’s fingers itch to touch. She had no idea how Laura had transported it in her backpack on the plane but the sheen on the material glowed under the city lights, leaving her arms bare around the shoulder straps. The long necklace disappearing below the neckline to hide the ring and its implications from sight. As Carmilla had helped Laura into her coat, the snow around them picking up, she’d let her fingers graze down the back of Laura’s arm. Smooth skin from shoulder to wrist.

The blush in Laura’s cheeks had only made everything better.

So she’d stepped in close, gently doing up the buttons on the coat without breaking eye contact. Long. Lingering. Breathless. Laura’s eyes had met her at every moment, refusing to drop away. A pointed conversation said best without a single word.

When the last button was done up right below Laura’s chin, Carmilla’s had gently reached up and swiped her thumb across Laura’s lips.

“You look beautiful,” she’d said.

Laura’s smile, soft and glowing, had been enough. Then Laura had reached out, fingers playing with the slightly raised pattern on Carmilla’s black dress and accidentally drawing circles over Carmilla’s ribs, “You do too, Carm.”

Even now, in the restaurant, Carmilla could feel the phantom ghost of Laura’s fingers. Reaching out, Carmilla grabbed her wine glass and let the cool of the glass soak into her skin. Wine dry on her tongue as Laura tried to navigate eating her appetizer and enthusiastically telling Carmilla about her ongoing investigations.

“I’m just missing a few final pieces,” Laura gave a huff and stabbed at a scallop, “There’s nothing more frustrating than knowing that you’re almost there but the thing that makes it an ‘open and close’ case is out of reach. Like, I could publish it now but that would miss the whole core of it.” She waved the fork slightly, “I just really really want to nail this one.”

Laura was far too cute when she was riled up.

Carmilla covered her smiled, “Can’t miss that Pulitzer this time? Laura Hollis completes her life goals in her 30s while most of us are still trying to even figure our goals out.”

Laura’s words came quietly, “It’s not even about that.”

Carmilla frowned, “Laura, you’ve been talking about winning a Pulitzer since I’ve known you. If Lois Lane could do it so could you and all that.”

“Well, yeah. And I still want to do that but, this is different.” she picked up her own wine. The fruity wines had never been Carmilla’s preference but, as Laura’s lips stained red, the idea suddenly became a whole lot more appealing.

Laura put the glass down as the waiter took their empty plates, “You don’t think I became a journalist just for the awards right? Like, you remember that I became a journalist-”

“To help people. Everyone who needs it even if they don’t deserve it.”

Carmilla said the familiar words with Laura. Then she shook her head, “Of course I remember, cupcake. It’s all I could do to get you to stop helping people every second of the day and look after yourself too.”

“I look after myself!”

“How about that time you tried to pull five 18-hour workdays in a row and I found you passed out, with a pile of papers in your hand, on the kitchen floor?” Carmilla deadpanned.

“That’s an outlier!”

“You want me to keep giving examples?” Carmilla said, “The car trunk incident? Where-”

“Irregardless!” Laura said quickly, “I got into journalism to help people and this one, well, it isn’t about the Pulitzer or the byline. This one is about helping someone who deserves it more than anyone and I just have to get it right!”

Ignoring the blood sausage that the waiter slid in front of her, Carmilla frowned. Setting the wineglass down, Carmilla reached out and grabbed one of Laura’s flailing hands. “You’ll get this,” Carmilla rubbed small circles on Laura’s hand, “I don’t think you’ve mentioned exactly what you’re investigating but if there’s anything I can do to help? Well,” Carmilla snagged her lip and Laura’s eyes dilated, flickering in the candle glow, “I’d put some effort in for you.”

Laura took a deep breath and Carmilla watched the tension drain away, “You would?”

“Of course I’d do it for you,” Carmilla said.

Laura squeezed her hand, smile soft, “I’ll let you know but it’s probably best if you stay away from this one.”

She retracted her hand to pick up her fork like that sentence hadn’t immediately set off alarm bells in Carmilla’s head, “Laura?” she asked, “Why should I stay away from this one? What are you doing?”

“Nothing dangerous!”

Carmilla squinted at her, sarcasm bubbling over, “Why don’t I believe you? Oh, I know. You said that about the Mayor and then I had to fly down because you were in the hospital for three weeks.”

Laura rolled her shoulders and huffed, “Danger’s such a relative term.”

“Laura. No.”

Laura gave her the evil eye, “I’ve been working on this since I was put on forced leave to come here. I’m not dropping it now. This is worth it.”

“Nothing’s worth your safety.” Carmilla said.

“You are!”

Carmilla’s eyes went wide. Laura, fork thrust into the air at her statement, slowly lowered it. The fire in her eyes changing from flames to embers but no less intense. “You are.” She repeated, softer.

“Laura,” Carmilla said, her hand finding Laura’s again, “What are you doing?”

“I promised I’d stay out of it and I am,” Laura said. The fire burning in her eyes was the same thing that always made Carmilla’s chest spark to life, like Laura was lighting up her soul. It was so hard not to care for anything when Laura cared so fiercely about the world. Laura continued, “But this is a story I’ve been working on for a while and if it just so happens to benefit you, all the better.”

Carmilla mind raced with the hundred different things related to her that Laura could be working on. Something against her primary opponent. Something for her party. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to take a deep breath. This was supposed to be date night.

She’d learned long ago that you couldn’t stop Laura Hollis, “Just promise you’ll be careful,” Carmilla said, giving Laura’s hand a light squeeze, “and that you will call me if you get in over your head.”

Laura squeezed her hand back, “Promise.”

She gave Carmilla the grin that Carmilla hadn’t ever quite figured out how to not smile back at. So, smiling, Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Eat your dinner, cupcake.”

“You promised me cookies,” Laura reminded her.

“Dinner before dessert,” Carmilla said.

“But what if I want dessert now?”

Carmilla let her gaze darken and caught Laura’s eye, “If we were all getting what we wanted for dessert right now then you and I wouldn’t be here at all.” She gave Laura a wink and a flush rose to Laura’s cheeks. The table was small enough that Carmilla barely had to stand to kiss Laura lightly on the corner of her mouth, catching the edges of Laura’s gasp.

Carmilla moved to whisper in Laura’s ear, “We both know you wore that dress on purpose and I could just eat you alive.”

When she sat back down and picked up her fork, Laura was gaping at her. Face red but eyes dark. In her best nonchalant voice, Carmilla said, “You eat dinner then we get your dessert and then…” Carmilla paused, her heartbeat in her ears, “maybe I’ll get mine.”

It took everything in Carmilla not to leap straight out of her seat when a foot touched hers under the table. Heels discarded. When she looked up, Laura’s eyes were a smolder, “Maybe you will, Carm.”

They held the gaze.

Long and full and short.

Carmilla smiled, “Eat your dinner and tell me about all the tv shows I should be watching.”

Laura was halfway through a rant on Orphan Black when the waiter interrupted them, clearly he’d been watching for a moment when the air at the table was a little less tense. “Excuse me,” his eyes twitched, “I apologize for interrupting but there’s a rather persistent call on the line for a Miss Carmilla Karnstein? It’s from a Mrs Morgan.”

It was like he’d splashed cold water down Carmilla’s back, “I’m not taking the call.”

The waiter winced, “We did try to tell her that but she’s most insistent.”

“I don’t care,” Carmilla could feel her spine straightening, bones clicking into place even as she leveled her best glare, “You’ll just have to put up with her. I’m not taking the call and you even asking demonstrates a level of incompetence that I hadn’t anticipated.” She wondered how much she looked like her mother. Sounded like her. Spoke like her.

The waiter scurried off.

“Carm,” Laura’s voice was soft.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Carmilla said. She stabbed angrily at her plate, trying to keep the tension from leaking into her voice, “Perry’s taking care of it. She’s got mother blocked on every other line. This is just a fluke. Leave it be, Laura.”

Carmilla braced herself for the flurry of words, for Laura’s rousing speech, for the beginning of her crusade. Laura was a master of words and inspiring actions, this would be no different. She’d tell Carmilla to slay the beast and try to draw another tragic tale from her lips with interview techniques long practiced. Word play almost as adept at getting what she wanted, twisting and using words like weapons. Albeit with a blunted edge.

Carmilla’s spine straightened and her shoulders came up.

Except.

The words never came.

When Carmilla glanced up, her knuckles white around her fork, Laura was sitting silently. Her own fork was down, hands folded in her lap, and her entire body was tensed like a live wire. Her muscles strained forward, the artery in her neck twitching like it was forcibly holding back a wave of words.

But she held it back.

Mouth closed tight. Only her eyes seemed to speak, concern written in golden letters across the brown like all she wanted was to help if Carmilla would let her.

But she wasn’t pushing.

Laura wasn’t pushing.

The fight whooshed out of Carmilla.

Had Laura changed so much in their few weeks apart or had she grown in the years between being a freshman in the dorms and a reporter grown and Carmilla simply hadn’t noticed? She did now. In her new world where everything was a blur or motion, Laura was still the only thing that made her pause.

“You’ve changed,” Carmilla said.

Laura quirked her head, “Yes?”

So Carmilla let herself slip into Laura’s silence.

Electric. Even without touching, she felt like she was pressed close. Their breathes matched, Laura keeping her breathing slow and steady.

Carmilla let herself look at her best friend in a way she hadn’t before.

All the things she’d missed when she was too busy trying not to love the memory of university Laura. She let herself see the woman the Laura she’d loved had grown into while Carmilla wasn’t looking, while she was hiding up in Ottawa behind campaigns and politics.

Laura was older, the sentiment obvious enough but made real in the smallest wrinkles around the corners of her eyes from too much smiling. She wore red lipstick instead of lip gloss and hadn’t tripped once that night in her high heels. The purse hanging of the back of her chair was fake leather instead of canvas and tardis covered.

Although, there was still the smallest Buffy pin on the strap.

Carmilla reached out, snagging her cell phone from her purse and eyed Laura who blushed but held her gaze. She had been so caught up in memories, in tardis onesies and roses and teddy bears, that she’d missed the grown-up Laura. She’d missed a whole other side there was to her best friend. A whole other side to understand.

It only took a moment’s thought to see what she’d overlooked. The way Laura squinted at papers and leaned a little closer, leaving Carmilla to wonder if she was avoiding reading glasses. The quiet moments she’d catch Laura looking out a window with pain in her eyes. The pauses where Laura looked before she leapt, creating infrastructure to repair the things her articles tore down before she started breaking them.

Her phone was warm in her hand.

“Is that okay?” Laura’s voice was quiet, interrupting a hundred other examples of things Carmilla had simply missed, “That I’ve changed?”

Carmilla reached out, phone in hand, and Laura met her halfway. A Laura Hollis who didn’t force you to her side or leave you hanging. She’d missed it all.

“I’ve changed,” Carmilla said, “It’s only fair that you did too. It’s just… I forgot.”

“You’ve been busy.”

Laura tried to forgive her but Carmilla shook her head, “I missed it. I missed it all because,” she stumbled, “because I left.”

“Sometimes I forget too you know,” Laura’s face sparkled, a reflection of the Christmas lights coating the snow covered trees outside the glass windows, “You’re not as angry or apathetic. I forget how much you’re willing to give of yourself for the things you care about, Carm. Sometimes I forget that you’re lactose intolerant now or I get punched by those three gray hairs in your hairline because I forget we’re not in school anymore and how is it fair that you’re still so hot? I missed when you let that third piercing in your ear grow back over because I was chasing that lead in Europe and I tripped when I realized you write more than you read now.”

Laura shrugged, almost helplessly as she held Carmilla’s hand around the phone, “We’re the same but there’s a bit more to us now. We’ve both changed a little.” Her smile was small, “Now we’ve both just got to catch up.”

“I can’t talk to my mother,” the words rushed out.

“Okay.”

“She’ll draw me back in,” Carmilla explained, “I don’t know how to break that hold on me.”

“Okay,” Laura said it again.

She pressed the phone into Laura’s palm, “I want you to call her.”

“What?” Laura spluttered, nearly knocking over her water glass.

Carmilla smiled.

#

They’d finished their plates, leaving before dessert, and Carmilla gently pressed Laura into the coatroom with a, “Normally, I pull girls into coatrooms with the intention of it being a two person affair but we’ll have to save that for next time.”

Laura felt like a teenager again with all the blushing, “Carm,” she said instead, stopping flirty Carmilla with a single hand on her arm, “Are you sure about this?”

“I trust you.”

It was like a shock of cold water and a warm blanket around her heart all at once, “But. Last time I spoke to your mother we ended up in a standoff in the dress shop changing room! Maybe you should get Perry to do this?” She held out Carmilla’s cell phone.

Carmilla was smirky and flirty and flippant so there was nothing like the moments when all Laura could find on her face was sincerity. Tapping her phone, she closed Laura’s fingers around it and gently rested her hand on top of them. No jokes. No sarcasm. No confusion about dating or romance. Just her best friend of a decade looking at her, “We don’t learn trust in a moment, cupcake, we make it in all the little things. You’ve always been there.”

She brushed a kiss over Laura’s lips, lingering in her space, “Make the call. Please.”

How do you say no to your best friend? Especially when there was tension in Carmilla’s spine and hurt in her eyes as much as Carmilla was trying to hide it. Trying to bury it and look strong and tough and like she wasn’t hurting.

“Okay,” Laura said, “But don’t go too far?”

“I’ll be just outside,” Carmilla smile was tight.

So Laura reached out just as Carmilla was leaving. She grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, tugging Carmilla into her arms and wrapping her into a hug. Her arms found Carmilla’s waist even as Carmilla seemed to melt into her neck as Laura held her close.

How do you tell someone you love them when you can’t quite seem to find the words?

Laura held Carmilla closer. Held her tight. Held her up. Held her safe. Just for a moment, the world didn’t need to exist. It could be just them and the way Carmilla’s spine was unfurling its tension under her fingertips.

Just a moment.

Or two.

Eventually Laura found herself sitting alone in the restaurant’s coatroom with Carmilla’s cell phone in her hands. She turned it over and over between her fingers, tracing the shiny surface, and sunk into the plush bench beside the racks of coats.

She gnawed on her lip, unlocking Carmilla’s phone with ease.

She hit the button. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. She was almost hoping for voicemail.

Then. “Mircalla,” Mrs Karnstein’s voice oozed into her ear, “I knew you’d come to your senses and call me. Earlier than expected even, perhaps you’re not quite as incompetent as I was anticipating if you understand how much you need me.”

“Yeah. No.” Laura said, fighting back her revulsion, “I’m afraid it’s me.”

There was a pause, “Well now,” Mrs Karnstein said, “this is a surprise. Miss Hollis, what can I do for you?”

“Well, for starters, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking about me on live TV.”

Mrs Karnstein tutted, “It’s all about the show dear. You, of all people, must understand the performance involved in a good persuasion? People do love their drama. I simply gave them a villain to look to.”

“I am not a villain!” Laura started with a shout but quickly dropped her tone.

Keep it cool, Hollis.

“Of course not,” Laura frowned at Mrs Karnstein’s words, unable to understand the tone behind them, “you’re practically a bastion of truth and justice, everyone knows that.”

Her brain was practically overheating trying to figure out what Mrs Karnstein would get out of saying nice things to her. She just had to focus, “You keep calling, Carmilla wants to know what you want so that you’ll stop calling.”

“I was hoping to speak with her directly.”

“Too bad,” Laura crossed her arm over her chest, “it’s me or nothing.”

“Very well,” Laura frowned, the way Mrs Karnstein was listening to her was ringing all the suspicion bells in the back of her head. Mrs Karnstein continued, “Since Mircalla insists on being unreasonable about this entire scenario, I’ve been left with no choice but to force you all to come to your senses so that I can save Mircalla’s campaign.”

“Not gonna ever happen,” Laura interrupted.

Mrs Karnstein’s voice was dry, “Your constant dealing in absolutes must be exhausting, darling. Perhaps I’m not quite the villain you imagine me to be, after all, we’ve both agreed several times that we simply want what’s best for Mircalla. It’s only our methodologies that vary. You must see that there are greater evils than I?”

“There are gray areas in the world,” Laura agreed, “I learned that long ago but this,” she shook her head, “this isn’t one of them. You emotionally abused her for years. That’s bad, whatever the intent nonsense you try and sell me on.”

Anger blasted through the line, “I have done no such thing! Emotional abuse? No. All I’ve ever done is try to help Mircalla and for you to suggest otherwise is a grave insult. I love my daughter, Miss Hollis. Make no mistake about that and I will not tolerate being told I’ve hurt her. I’ve only ever helped her and I am continuing to help her.”

“You did not!” Laura could feel her jaw twitch, “You’ve hurt her. You’ve made her feel small and insignificant and helpless just to make yourself feel bigger. You’ve controlled her. Given her nightmares. Hurt her in a hundred different ways that Carm is only just starting to unravel and the fact that you can’t see that is absolutely frightening.” Laura’s grip on the phone tightened, “Let her start to heal. Please. If you love her, let her be.”

“Mircalla just needs to toughen up”

Laura took a deep breath at the reply, shaking her head, “Tell me what you want Mrs Karnstein or I’m hanging up and you’re not going to get the chance again.”

“Very well,” a shuffling of papers came through the line, “Tell Mircalla that either she can rehire me as her campaign manager and let me fix this entire mess or else I will reveal to the press that your entire relationship with Mircalla is a charade garnered only to gain votes.”

Laura froze. Then, “You wouldn’t. That would ruin her election chances and that’s all you want.”

“I most certainly will,” Mrs Karnstein was almost jovial, “Tomorrow morning in fact. We need all the time we can get to mitigate this ongoing disaster. Lola is many things but she’s certainly not ready for dealing with my daughter’s ineptitude.”

“No-one will believe you,” Laura’s brain raced, “We’ll just tell them that you’re a disgruntled former employee.”

She got a laugh, “Darling, I’ve recorded a number of our conversations regarding this sham of a marriage. I have all the proof I need.”

Laura gaped into the phone.

Into the silence, Mrs Karnstein said, “Oh come now, Miss Hollis, I thought the reporter in you would approve of my gathering sources and dedication to revealing the truth Mircalla Karnstein’s sham romance.”

“It’s not a sham!” Laura said, “Carm and I are dating now. We’re together, like a real actual thing!”

“Mazel tov,” Mrs Karnstein’s tone was flat before turning crafty, “but do you really think anyone will believe that after hearing my evidence? Just another lie for attention.”

Laura straightened her shoulders, chin out as she nodded firmly, “They’ll believe Carm. They’ll believe the truth.”

“They’ll believe that Carmilla loves you, of that I don’t doubt,” disdain crept down the phone line, “Anyone who looks at that girl for half a second can see those ridiculous ‘heart-eyes’ as they call them. She’s been in love with you for years. It’s been most annoying.”

Laura frowned.

She hated when Mrs Karnstein agreed with her. It made her skin feel slimy.

And it was weird.

“So if you think they’ll believe Carm then why go through with it?” Laura asked, “it won’t work.”

“Oh, they’ll believe Carmilla loves you but,” Mrs Karnstein’s voice was breezy, “do you really think they’ll believe that you love her back? No. The sham will be all yours Miss Hollis.”

“What?!?” Laura squealed, “How could you even thi-”

Mrs Karnstein cut her off, “Because you’re kind. You’re helpful and overly sweet and you’re the kind of person who wouldn’t want to break your best friends heart so you’d just go with it. To help her. To help the Canadian people. Just to help. It’s nauseating really. You kissed Carmilla on that stage, you started the charade while she just looked flustered. I have a recording of you spewing on for minutes forcing me to let you be Carmilla’s fake fiancee. What did you say? “I’m dedicated to helping her”, I believe. You’ve been the one planning the entire fake wedding while Carmilla stands by like a lovestruck fool.”

“I wonder,” if Mrs Karnstein added, “if we could use this to get a sympathy vote. Taken by her best friend. After all, this little charade does seem to have gotten you close to a number of sources for your articles. We could say that you’re using her to further your career. We’ve even got photos of you with that giant redheaded girl. Perhaps we could spin her as your one true love who you’re secretly dating the entire time. Carmilla just a poor fool with no-one to love her.”

“But I do love her!” Laura shouted. Then stopped abruptly.

She hadn’t expected that the first time she admitted it out loud would be to Carmilla’s villainous mother over the phone in a coat room.

She needed a box of cookies after this.

“Perhaps you do,” Mrs Karnstein said, “but do you think that Carmilla believes that?”

A massive knot formed in Laura’s stomach. Carm knew. Right? Certainly, she’d never said it but. Carm knew. She had to. It was just too early. They’d only just started dating officially but Carmilla had to know that Laura loved her.

She’d always loved Carmilla.

Yet the knot in her gut and the sudden claminess of her palms told a very different story.

What if she didn’t know? Laura had wanted to be sure. Was she sure? How did you even know when you were sure you loved someone? She’d never been in love.

‘You’re mine.’ Laura had said, ‘To love or not’. What if Carmilla believe the ‘not’?

Carmilla had said “I love you”. Twice now. Each one burned into Laura’s memory like a tattoo she wanted to turn and look at every second.

She’d never said it back. She’d never said it back.

Mrs Karnstein continued, “And if Carmilla doesn’t believe it. Well, why would you expect anyone else to?”

#

“Okay.” Carmilla said and Laura gaped, watching as Carmilla slipped into her coat and reached for Laura’s.

“I tell you that your mother’s going to out our fake engagement on national tv tomorrow and all you can say is ‘okay’?” Laura protested. She’d gone over the conversation, leaving out only Mrs Karnstein’s little love tangent.

This wasn’t the moment for that particular quandary.

“We’ve told Perry and she’ll deal with it,” Carmilla slipped on her coat but that did nothing to hide the alluring slit showing off her leg, “Otherwise, I don’t see what we can do about this right now. If we say anything, it will look like another lie. Perry will get ahead of it. Form a mitigation plan.”

“But Carm!” Laura started, “Don’t you even care about the camp-”

A warm hand slid around her wrist and tugged her forward. Carmilla encircled her, pressing them face to face. Chest to chest. “Frankly, cupcake,” Carmilla’s eyes were shining and Laura’s breath caught, “the only thing I care about right now is our date.”

“But-”

“Not my mother,” Carmilla continued, “Not your secret little investigation. Not the campaign or the wedding or the engagement.” Carmilla’s eyes were dark, the brown swirling like the last trail of marshmallows in hot chocolate, “Just you and I. That’s it.”

Her words rang familiar in Laura’s head, lazy mornings and soft sheets ghosting over her skin, “Can we just pretend,” Laura whispered, “That’s what you asked. To pretend that if we didn’t move we could forget your mother and journalism and politics. You wanted to wrap ourselves up in the big bed and never leave.”

“Except for chocolate cookies,” Carmilla reminded her.

Laura wound her fingers between Carmilla’s dress and her coat, “Of course. Those are important.”

Carmilla smiled like Laura had just given her the sun and a secret all at once.

Laura suddenly wanted to give her both.

“So you want to pretend again?” Laura asked, “Just for now?”

“No.” The word buzzed firm in Carmilla’s chest and she felt it travel through Carmilla with conviction, “No. No more pretending. I’m done with pretending. I only want what’s real and I want that to be just you and me. That’s it. Real.”

Laura only had to lean in and press a kiss to the side of Carmilla’s neck, “Just you and me.” She agreed. Carmilla relaxed in her arms and Laura kissed her once more, soft and slow on her beating pulse.

The words ached inside her but couldn’t quite escape.

Just you and me in love.

Carmilla slipped Laura’s coat on her shoulders but it was a poor substitution for Carmilla’s warmth and a little grumble slipped out. Carmilla laughed, “Come on, cupcake. Date’s not over yet.”

“Okay,” Laura took Carmilla’s hand and followed her to the car, “but where are we going?”

“Slight deviation from the original plan,” Carmilla said, “but it’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” Laura grumbled.

Carmilla winked at her, “I know.”

Despite Laura’s best pout, Carmilla didn’t cave for the entire car ride. This was possibly because it was hard to pout properly when she was pressed against Carmilla side. Pouts tended to be overcome by giddy smiles.

She frowned when they pulled into a florescent lit parking lot, “Um, Carm? Why are we at a grocery store?”

“It’s a surprise, Laura,” Carmilla rolled her eyes and pulled her out of the car. Grabbing a grocery cart, Carmilla didn’t even flinch when her heels clicked across the store’s tile. So Laura shrugged and followed her. Just two girls in fancy dresses and heels in a grocery store.

More specifically, in the baking aisle.

The cart quickly filled with flour and sugar and chocolate chips. Laura paused, “Are we baking cookies?”

Carmilla looked up from where she was puzzling over baking powder and baking soda. The pure concentration ringing adorable in Laura’s chest, “And the investigation skills finally click in,” Carmilla said. She held up the boxes, “Do you know what the difference is?”

“Um,” Laura tried to think back to sunny days and eight year old girls giggling over mixing bowls with their mother, “I think you need both?”

Shrugging, Carmilla threw them both in.

She went to grab the cart, dress swishing around her ankles, and Laura cut her off, “Carm, are we baking cookies?”

It didn’t deter Carmilla who simply grabbed the cart around her, effectively pinning Laura back against it in a way that was a tad too PG-13 for the grocery store, “You did say that they were an essential for our date,” Carmilla looked practically predatory, “And I’d hate to let you down.”

Laura couldn’t stop her smile, “Do you even know how to make cookies? Because I certainly haven’t made them in years.”

“I figured,” Carmilla said, “that it was time for some new traditions too.”

Laura paused, conversations about growing up and missing out written in the lines on Carmilla’s forehead that never quite went away any more. She ran her finger across them, following the sharp line of Carmilla’s face down to her chin. Still ridiculously beautiful.

Time for some new memories then.

She pecked Carmilla on the lips, “We need more chocolate chips then. You’re not going to woo me with under-chocolated cookies, Karnstein.”

Two hours later Carmilla’s kitchen was covered in the ingredients, there was a batch of black-burnt cookies in the garbage, and Laura was sitting on a kitchen stool with five plates of cookies in front of her while Carmilla tried to use a dishtowel to get the flour of her hair.

She wasn’t succeeding and Carmilla looked like she had a layer of powdered sugar dusting her head.

Laura giggled as Carmilla growled, eyeing the red lipstick stain on Carmilla’s neck that might have been responsible for the burnt cookies. When she laughed, little grains of sugar rained down from where Carmilla had up-ended nearly the entire bag over her head.

Rolling her eyes, Carmilla abandoned the towel and grabbed a cookie from plate 2. Eyeing it suspiciously as it crumbled in her grip, she asked, “What’s wrong with these ones?”

“I think we forgot eggs?” Laura said, grabbing her own cookie from plate five. The cookie just looked like one giant chocolate chip. After they’d lost all their sugar on Laura’s head, she’d just dumped the entire remaining bag of chocolate chips into the batch to try and make up for it.

Plate four was the worst off. After Laura had flicked baking powder into Carmilla’s face, they’d forgotten to add it to the mix and the cookies simply hadn’t risen.

It had started the food fight though and Laura’s face hurt from smiling. It was just between Carmilla’s shock when Laura had attacked her and the smile that had bloomed on Carmilla’s face after; Laura couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

So it was worth sacrificing a few cookies.

She considered her own cookie, “These ones just taste like chocolate.”

“Do they?” Carmilla asked. With no warning, she was around the table and pressed into Laura space.

“You could get your own,” Laura said, holding the cookie protectively.

“But yours looks better,” Carmilla turned on the pout and Laura crumbled like batch 2. She held up the cookie and Carmilla grinned, taking a bite as her hands fell to Laura’s thighs. She chewed for a moment, considering.

“Missing something,” she said.

Laura rolled her eyes, “Yeah. Sugar. There’s none in the batch.”

“Oh, we can fix that.” Carmilla leaned in, “I know something even sweeter.”

When Carmilla kissed her, Laura couldn’t argue that chocolate chip cookies had ever tasted better.

#

It was 3am, a half-eaten plate of cookies on the nightstand beside her, when Laura slipped softly from Carmilla’s arms. Carmilla grumbled, rolling in her sleep and curling around Laura’s pillow like a disgruntled cat. Smiling softly, Laura pressed a kiss to Carmilla’s forehead and pulled the sheet a little higher. She threw on a sweater, closed the bedroom door, and padded across the living room.

Laura sat on the couch.

Took a deep breath.

And turned on her computer.

Chapter Text

It was quiet when Laura crept back into the bedroom, the moon still high in the sky as the stars twinkled. As Laura climbed into bed, a hand reached out and sleepily pulled her in. Outside, clouds began to pepper the darkness with their cover. Dark and heavy. She drifted off to sleep with the comforting beat of Carmilla’s heart under her ear and warmth snuggled into her side. An arm under her waist pulled her just a little closer as Carmilla’s sleepy breaths came soft against her skin.

Laura smiled.

Laura slept.

Laura woke up the second time that night to screaming, screaming that was so familiar it tore her heart in two instead of sending it bounding into panic. She spun in the sheets, turning towards Carmilla as lightning flashed across the sky and illuminated Carmilla’s twisted face.

Instinctively she reached for Carmilla. The usually warm weight against her side a writhing furnace of tension. “Carm,” the word slipped out.

She’d never expected a response. Had never gotten one before.

“Laura!”

Carmilla’s eyes slammed open. The scream dying in her throat as the name took over; choked down in a gurgle as Carmilla clutched at the bed sheets. Laura could feel Carmilla’s muscles spasm as the arm beneath her, the one that must have been holding her close while she slept, clenched into a fist. The soft shoulder underneath Laura’s cheek was hunched in on itself.

Laura knew what she had to do.

Laura’s heart shattered all over again.

She pulled back, trying to leap to the edge of the bed and knowing that she needed to give Carmilla a moment to ground herself. To find herself before Laura would be allowed to hold her tight until the ache in both their chests died away.

Except.

She didn’t make it more than half a turn before an iron grip slammed into her back and drew her back in. The grip pressed Laura tight against Carmilla’s side as claw like fingers clung to the collar of the back of her pajama shirt.

Laura froze, nose hovering an inch from Carmilla’s cheek and from the fear still palpable on her face. Those big brown eyes stared up at her, flinching as thunder boomed between the slam of heavy rain on the window pain.

Carmilla fear was still on her face but her grip refused to let Laura go.

“Stay.” Carmilla croaked the word, “Please.”

Laura collapsed downward, trying to fully envelope Carmilla as a second arm came around to clasp at her back just as tightly as the first. She tucked her face into the side of Carmilla’s head, pressing her forehead to Carmilla’s temple as Carmilla buried into her neck. The nightmare sticky skin was warm to the touch. Laura didn’t care. Lips by Carmilla’s ear, she whispered, “Just breath, Carm. I’m right here.”

She got a mumble, “you smell like cookies.”

Her fingers drew slow circles on Carmilla’s shoulders. Brushed dark curls from Carmilla’s forehead. Her breath soft and steady.

The body under her was still rock tense, muscles trembling from the strain, but Laura could feel the rapid in and out breaths start to slow. The fingers loosen their grip slightly. Carmilla’s head turn slightly more towards her.

Laura hummed softly, trying to give Carmilla something to ground herself in. Anything to grip onto reality and chase away the nightmares.

What she got was ragged words thrown angrily at the sky, each one broken and raspy from a voice that had spent too long screaming, “I’m supposed to be done with her.” Carmilla said.

“Carm,” Laura tried.

“I’m supposed to be done,” Carmilla closed her eyes, refusing to look at Laura but she could still feel the way Carmilla grasped her closer, “I sent her away and I haven’t talked to her and she’s not supposed to have any influence over me anymore!” Even with her eyes closed, a tear slipped out to glint in the glow of the lightning.

Laura’s chest ached,”I don’t think that’s how it works. I wish it was. But. It’s not.”

Carmilla shook her head.

Laura gently wiped the tear away as she stared at Carmilla’s profile. One stroke. Two. Three. Over and over again she drew a gentle path across Carmilla’s cheekbone, watching Carmilla struggle against the nightmares in her head. Feeling the way Carmilla still clung to her as Carmilla’s palm pressed against Laura’s chest to feel every breath.

“I was supposed to beat her,” Carmilla said, her eyes fluttered open and, even in the dark, found Laura’s, “Isn’t that how your stories always go?”

Laura smiled softly, “You don’t believe in my stories.”

“I’d like to.”

Carmilla’s words floored her even as Carmilla’s gaze broke away to find the ceiling and the unknowable eternity that lay above it. The stars above and whatever was beyond. Laura watched the reflection of lightning in Carmilla’s eyes as the rain provided a soft background of loud silence. A moment away from time.

So Laura turned her own gaze to the ceiling but stayed pressed against Carmilla’s side, her head in the space between shoulder and ear, finding one of Carmilla’s hands and winding their fingers together.

Words mattered. She fought to find some, each one feeling heavy on her tongue as she pulled it out.

“Maybe,” Laura offered, “it’s not about beating her. Because then the story is still about her. If you win on her terms then you’re still playing her game. You’re still doing what she wants instead of what you want if your only goal is beating her.”

“That’s not how the stories go.” Carmilla reminded her, “They’re all about winning.”

Laura shrugged and knew Carmilla could feel it, “Write your own story. Be whatever kind of hero or not hero you want. Get the girl. Go home. Win the election. Whatever. Just live until you forget she even exists and on the nights you can’t, then, I guess, keep going.”

Carmilla slid down in the bed, finding Laura’s jawline with her nose and pressing them together. Her sarcasm was light. “Real inspirational, Hollis.”

It was enough to have Laura’s heart leaping and she fought back a small smile. “Well, not every speech can be a great one.”

Finally, Carmilla glanced over at her. Their fingers still intertwined, “I think you’re due for a good one.”

Laura stuck her tongue out just to make Carmilla roll her eyes and smile. It worked and Laura watched as the last of the tension drained from Carmilla’s bones. She softened. Melting outward with a small smile barely seen in the dark.

The small smile that barely had the corners of Carmilla’s mouth turning up but even that tiny action was enough to make Laura want to smile in return. To see that smile again and again.

Maybe she could.

“Carm,” she looked at their interlocked fingers resting on Carmilla’s stomach and felt Carmilla turn her head. Her chin brushed Laura’s shoulder as Laura said, “Did you really want to beat her? Because. Well. I can help with that.”

Carmilla didn’t hesitate. “You already do.”

Laura squeezed her fingers, “But what if we could take her down. Would you want to?”

Silence.

A heartbeat.

A flash of lightning.

A caress of her fingers and a face turning to find her own.

Then “Laura? What are you talking about.”

“My article that I’ve been working on?” Laura played with Carmilla’s fingers, sliding from one to the next, “It’s about the elections. Not yours specifically but I had a tip that the other two bielections were rigged at the polls. I figured because your party lost those two that one of the other parties had rigged it in their favour and maybe I could get it recalled and take the pressure off you. Plus, if I could crack it then I could make sure that no-one cheated you out of your win. Except. It was really weird.”

Carmilla was up on her side in an instant, balancing on her arm beside her and staring down at Laura, “Weird how.”

Laura popped up to meet her, fingers still together. “They were definitely rigged,” Laura said, “I found the final proof of that just before I went back to Toronto but it wasn’t by one of the other parties.” She looked up, “The money trail leads right back to your party.”

Carmilla’s eyes were intense. Flashing. Her grip on Laura’s hand firm.

That left her other hand to flail, “Which makes no sense right? Your party rigged the election and then still lost. But that means they rigged the election with the intent to lose which… why in the world would anyone do that? Twice! So I kept digging because I had a hunch and, I mean honestly I was trying really hard to distract myself in Toronto and I didn’t have much to do so there was so much time to dig-”

Apology flashed on Carmilla’s face and Laura shoved a hand against her lips.

“Which we are not dwelling on that right now. But basically there’s a ton of circumstantial evidence all around it and I made a big crime board to try and connect it but it wasn’t making sense until I remembered something.” She paused, “about your mother.”

Carmilla eye’s flashed but she said nothing so Laura continued. “How she was so sure that the bielections would fail and how her whole plan was to have them fail so that you could save the party and then she could enact that creepy life plan of hers for you and I started to wonder if maybe there was a connection and I’ve done so much digging and I think I almost have it.”

“Laura,” Carmilla caught her flailing hand, bringing both together and sitting up fully in the dark. Her eyes intense as they sat in the middle of the large bed, “Are you saying that you have proof that my mother rigged elections?”

Laura shook her head, “I’m saying that I almost do.” She could feel all the little places she was touching Carmilla. Hands and knees and feet. But the most intense was Carmilla’s gaze, grabbing her and refusing to let go.

“There’s so much circumstantial evidence that points to your mother. I can pretty much definitely prove that it came from your campaign headquarters. I’ve got a papertrail and faxes and one very scared judge. I’ve got a couple of people who have confessed to getting threatened or bribed to change the numbers. Like poll clerks and deputy returning officers and everything. Like there was a lot of work put into this and I just need a few more people to crack. It’s just tricky because it’s a chain of people who don’t really know each other but there’s so much circumstantial evidence to point them back to your mother. I’m just working on the last few pieces to really nail her.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if Carmilla was breathing, “You have the proof of the rigging though?”

Laura nodded.

“So you could publish that. We could get her first.”

Laura paused, debating her options then let the core of it all flow out, “I would if you wanted me to, that would at least get a re-vote in those bielections that’s fair and maybe some of your party would get in, but well, I was going to wait to publish it until I could get her too. I wanted to get her for you.”

“For me?” there was the tremble in Carmilla’s voice that pulled on Laura’s heartstrings. Like Carmilla couldn’t believe that someone wanted to do something for her.

“Carm,” Laura words were soft, “Of course I’m doing it for you.”

There was a pause and a moment and a hiccup and a tremble and then Carmilla was crashing into her, pulling her close and pushing her down all at once until they were a tangle of limbs half sitting against the headboard. Carmilla’s cheek was wet against her own and Laura wasn’t entirely sure who was crying but she could feel Carmilla’s smile pressed into her skin and that was enough to make Laura smile back.

She turned to kiss Carmilla’s forehead and got caught up in her lips instead.

“I don’t deserve you, Laura Hollis,” Carmilla whispered.

Laura shook her head, “I know. You deserve so much more.”

Carmilla stopped, stared at her, “Not even remotely what I meant.” Laura just smiled. Then Carmilla shook her head, a smile on her face as she sighed before peering up at Laura, “Call it even?”

Dramatically tapping her chin as though she was thinking about it, Laura couldn’t stop her smile. Then she extended her hand like it was a business deal, “Sounds fair.”

“You’re ridiculous cupcake.”

Laura just grinned and held out her hand.

With an over dramatic sigh, Carmilla shook back, “Deal.”

Laura fell into giggles as Carmilla used the action to pull her in, holding Laura tight. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Laura pressed a series of fast and silly kisses to the side of Carmilla’s face.

Eventually, they settled back into the pillows as the sun poked over the edge of the world. “Thank you,” Carmilla’s words were soft.

“Any time,” Laura said.

She should have known better. Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “Any time?”

Laura couldn’t even complain when Carmilla leaned into kiss her again.

#

Carmilla was flipping through Laura’s extensive pile of notes on the bielection when her cell phone rang. She picked it up absently, paying more attention to the notes in her hand and the clack of Laura’s keyboard as she typed from the nearby desk.

“Hello?” Carmilla squinted at Laura’s handwriting.

“Turn to channel 5.”

Carmilla sat straight up at the unmistakable panic in Perry’s voice, “What’s wrong?”

From across the room, Laura’s spun around in the chair. Frown on her face.

“Just do it.” Perry said.

Carmilla was already reaching for the remote and the channel appeared with a newcasters face and a BREAKING NEWS headline in bright red swirling as a graphic.

“For our viewers just tuning in,” he said, “we’re currently in the middle of breaking new on the Carmilla Karnstein campaign. Ten minutes ago, in an exclusive meeting with KZX News, Lilita Karnstein former head of the Karnstein campaign and mother of MP candidate Carmilla Karnstein, revealed evidence that the current Karnstein engagement is a sham.”

Carmilla’s breath caught. Laura was frozen across the room, a pencil in her hand and eyes glued to the TV screen.

“A few months ago,” the reporter continued, “after various calls of ineptitude for service due to her unmarried status, candidate Karnstein revealed that she was engaged to Toronto Tribune writer Laura Hollis, best known for her worldwide criminal justice exposes. Upon the announcement, Karnstein increased nearly 10 points in the polls and pulled ahead of the incumbent MP. They’ve since been sighted a number of venues together and, despite a brief blip apart, were last seen staying to together at Karnstein’s Ottawa apartment. However, this morning mother of current candidate Karnstein and daughter by marriage to the late Prime Minister Karnstein, Lilita Karnstein revealed the the engagement between Hollis and Karnstein was something proposed purely for political benefits and that the two girls have no intention of tying the knot.”

A picture of Laura and Carmilla taken from their photoshoot appeared onscreen.

The reporter shuffled his papers and continued, “Lilita was dismissed from the Karnstein campaign just over a week ago for ‘differing opinions’ and Lilita is now claiming that this is a result of her defiance of the fake engagement. She has even provided us with tapes of the aforementioned discussions of fake engagement and our team is reviewing them now. We can, however, say that they look authentic at this time. As you may recall, after the failing of Karnstein’s party in the last two bielections, the upcoming election is their final chance to clinch a majority house. While the benefits for Karnstein are clear, we have no current leads on the benefits to Hollis although critics have suggested that she may be using her increased access to doctor additional stories for her journalistic investigations. In fact, Lilita has proposed to our team that Hollis is the true mastermind behind this scheme. We’ve reached out to the Karnstein team but have not yet received a comment. More on the story as it develops. Please stay tuned for the complete interview with Lilita Karnstein on this scandal.”

Carmilla’s flicked off the tv. She could vaguely hear Perry talking at a mile a minute through the phone but she couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move. That was it. This was it. The whole thing was over.

Her mother got them first.

Half of her was panicking, screaming, but the other half was feeling something she couldn’t quite describe. Didn’t know what to do with. So she just sat. Sat and stared and breathed.

Finally, she looked over at Laura who was still sitting on her chair and looking just as shellshocked as Carmilla felt, “She,” Laura said, “she actually did it?” Laura shook her head, “I didn’t. Didn’t think she’d actually do that to you.”

“She wants me back.” Carmilla’s voice was flat, “she doesn’t think we can fix this without her.”

Laura’s hands were tight on her chair arm, knuckles white, “So what are we going to do?”

Carmilla stared back at the blank tv.

There was a blur to her left and laura was moving, bounding into the bedroom and returning with arms full of files and papers and her second computer, “Okay. Okay. We can totally handle this. We prepped. For this. I’ve got things here that can help we just need to put together a plan and figure everything out. It’s like playing settlers of catan, strategy. I’m good at that game. We can totally do this if we do enough digging and we do-”

“We’re not going to do anything.” With the words, a sudden calm fell over Carmilla’s shoulders.

“What?”

Carmilla’s couldn’t help but smile at the shocked confusion on Laura’s face. Standing, Carmilla’s gently plucked half the files from Laura’s arms, “We’re not going to do anything,” she repeated.

Laura squinted, “Explain how that helps?”

“It’s the one thing she won’t expect,” Carmilla said, shrugged, and dropped the files on the desk. “Mother will have contingency plans for her contingency plans. There’s no act we can take that she won’t have seven plans ready for. The one thing she won’t expect? Nothing.”

Laura stared at her, “We can’t just do nothing!”

“Well, you can keep digging,” Carmilla acquiesced. With a smile, she gently tapped Laura’s nose, “I know you wouldn’t be able to stop anyway but for the rest of us,” she raised her voice loud enough for the phone to hear, “It’s ‘no comment’ until we figure out exactly what mother’s gameplan is.”

Perry spluttered on the other end but Carmilla just crossed the room to turn off the phone.

Then, she looked at Laura, determined not to look at the blank tv screen or the crowd of reporters that she knew lurked just aside the window. “Let them think what they want,” Carmilla said. She walked back to Laura and closed the curtain, “When we know the truth.”

“The truth?” Laura asked.

Carmilla leaned back against the closed windowsill and just let her gaze run over Laura. A slow lazy crawl from top to bottom. By the time she got back to Laura’s face, Laura’s cheeks were bright red, “That I’m in love with you.”

The remaining pile of folders was dropped to the floor as Carmilla pulled Laura in to kiss her again.

#

No comment only worked for so long. No comment only worked until her mother’s interview was everywhere. No comment only worked until she dropped significantly in the polls. No comment only worked until it didn’t.

“You have to respond,” Perry said, “Or you’ll lose everything.”

So, with shaking hands, Carmilla told Perry to call a press conference.

Chapter Text

It was an hour until the press conference and they were stuck in a room full of cake. Mattie had whisked them away, ignoring their protests with a waved hand and a “it’s important now more than ever that you keep up the appearance of wedding planning darlings. Take a break. I’ll get you to the that raptor feeding fest in time. Now go choose a wedding cake.”

As much as part of Laura was a little bit mad, she was also in a room full of cakes.

No reason she couldn’t be mad and enjoy. She shoved another bite of chocolate cake in her mouth and then pointed her fork at Carmilla, “All I’m saying is that Mattie might have her priorities slightly out of line.”

Carmilla raised her eyebrow, “You could stop eating them.”

“Well we’re here now,” Laura said, snagging a piece of caramel cake, “No need to waste them”. The table in front of them was covered in small plates that spilled over onto the end tables of the lush room. Thick carpeting bracketed the floor while a fireplace roared nearby, offering warmth from the large window revealing a snowy landscape.

“Course not,” Carmilla said, “That’d be ridiculous. It’s only a press conference where journalists are waiting to eat us alive. What could go wrong?”

Laura shrugged, “I mean, everything. So eat cake.” Scooping up a piece of vanilla, she held it out for Carmilla to try. Carmilla’s lips twitched even as she rolled her eyes but let Laura feed her the piece.

“Not bad.” Carmilla said.

Laura gasped, “Not bad! It’s cake! It has to at least be good.” She reached for her own piece, the cake slicing cleanly with her fork until it was gently taken from her hand and she found something much more appetizing pressed against her kips.

Laura smiled into the kiss, letting herself sink into the feeling and the warmth. The taste of sugar and chocolate swirling with Carmilla’s softness. Slowly, she pulled away, “What was that for?”

Carmilla’s eyes danced, “The cake was good but I wanted my favourite flavour.”

Laura laughed and pecked her cheek, “Easy there ladykiller. We don’t go stale. Cake now. Kissing later.”

Carmilla sighed and fell back against the couch, “Kissing later? How incredibly boring.”

“Consider it a reward for surviving the press conference,” Laura picked up another piece of cake and speared the strawberry on top, “I need you on the top of your game and I’m not above kissing bribery.”

“Mentioning the press conference?” Carmilla slumped further, “way to bring the mood crashing down.”

Laura sighed and fell back next to her, bringing a mocha cake with her, “You knew it had to happen. Did you figure out what you think you want to say?”
They’d been going over it for hours, opinions and suggestions coming from every member of Carmilla’s team from Perry to Mattie to even Will sticking his head in. Laura’s mouth had opened but she’d closed it every time she’d looked at Carmilla’s face, the same one she was wearing now; tired. She just looked so tired and Laura ached to just let her sleep for a while. To take that weight off her shoulders. Her eyes dark and forehead creased with permanent frowns.

Reaching out, Laura rubbed soft circles on Carmilla’s hand with her thumb. It got her a small exhale and a slight relaxation of Carmilla’s face. The fire crackled nearby as a large iccle dripped slowly in the sun just beyond the window.

“I have Perry’s cue cards,” Carmilla drawled, “what more do I need?”

“Carm.” Laura said.

Carmilla sighed, “You want to just do it for me?”

Laura fought to keep her face impassive. She squeezed Carmilla’s hand, “I would if I could. I’ll be ready just in case. Follow your lead. Be the ace up your sleeve.”

It was worth it for Carmilla’s chuckle, “Press would love that.”

“Meh,” Laura let her nose scrunch up, “Who cares what the press wants? Or what Perry wants? Or what even I want?” She grabbed the piece of red velvet cake from the side table and gestured with the whole plate, “What matters is what you want. It’s your campaign. So what do you want?”

“That is the question,” Carmilla muttered, she swiped Laura’s fork and took a piece.

Despite Laura’s best efforts, Carmilla’s face was hard to read as the crackle of the fireplace filled the room. The soft scrap of their forks on the plate the only real sound. Carmilla’s breath was steady, eyes closed as she sank into the couch cushions. Dark hair bracketed her face as she tapped her fork gently against her leg. Her other hand was resting on Laura’s knee.

Laura waited. Gave her the moment.

She polished off the red velvet cake and was reaching for the chocolate creme when Carmilla spoke again, “We should probably stick with the cue cards.”

“Not what I asked,” Laura reminded he, “Do you want to stick with the cue cards?”

Carmilla huffed and smiled, “My mother would have demanded I use the cue cards; that seems like a pretty good reason to do anything else.”

“That is sound logic,” Laura agreed.

Carmilla leaned forward and Laura matched her, Carmilla’s fingers slotting between her own. “Well then,” Carmilla said, “One moment of courage right?”

“It’s worked out so far.” Laura whispered, Carmilla’s face hovering in front of her own.

“So we tell the truth.” Carmilla felt the words more than heard them.

“And what’s the truth?” Laura asked.

Carmilla kissed her.

#

Carmilla could practically feel Perry pacing on the edges of the stage but Carmilla kept the cue cards in her pocket as she took her place behind the podium and faced the small sea of reporters in front of her. She braced her hands on the podium, fingers tight on the wood as the harsh lights blared down on her face. She could barely make out the individual people before her, just a blur of cameras and recorders.

She held the podium a little tighter, feet braced.

In her peripheral, she saw Laura flash her a thumbs up around the phone in her hand. Probably ready for that perfect ‘candid moment Carm!’.

Carmilla took a deep breath. Let it out. “I’d like to thank you all for coming,” she said, “I know there have been some swirling rumours and allegations regarding my campaign and I wanted to address those prior to tomorrow’s vote. I know you have questions. I know that my silence for the last few days has not been the ideal option but it was important to me that I completely understand the situation and my stance on it prior to speaking.”

The crowd of reporters was quiet, cameras blinking in her face.

“As you’re aware,” Carmilla continued, “this has been a highly personal series of events on every front since the first moment someone insisted that my marital status was somehow linked to my ability to create legislature for this great country. Since then, that trend has only continued until we find ourself now with continued questions about my personal life and rumours coming from my own mother against me.”

There was a low rumbling in the crowd as the reporters jostled, impatient.

Carmilla pressed on, “It’s my top priority that our voters clearly understand who they are voting for and what the reality of the situation is. So here is the truth,”

One moment of courage.

“Months ago, when my personal life was first forced into the spotlight, I entered into a marriage of convenience contract with Laura Hollis.”

The crowd exploded. Questions brust from every direction as a cacophony of noise washed over, threatening to drown anything in its path with anger and indignation. But when Carmilla looked left, all she could see was Laura smiling at her. Perry tight lipped but nodding encouragingly. Her mother nowhere to be seen.

And the noise washed through her, passing away. She straightened, raising her hands to quiet the crowd and letting the microphone do the work of carrying her words. “On my mother’s advice,” Carmilla said, “or demand really, I found someone who would agree to pose as my fiance for the duration of the campaign to stop the unnecessary prodding into my relationship.”

“How do you justify lying to your constituents with a bought fiance?” A reporter shouted.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Lying? That’s my mothers word. My mothers word for something she couldn’t possibly understand. When my mother demanded that I find someone to marry, she gave me a list of ‘acceptable candidates’ whom she could bribe or blackmail into playing the part.” Carmilla leaned forward, hands tight on the podium, “Laura was never on that list.”

The crowds murmurs grew at the revelation.

“Against my mother’s wishes, I chose Laura to help me. My oldest friend. My best friend, who agreed to help without being bought or blackmailed, because I couldn’t imagine even pretending to be in love with anyone else. So I bought a ring and I proposed and she said yes.”

“Yes to a sham wedding!” Someone shouted.

“What makes a wedding real?” Carmilla shot back, something real leaking through her tone “If we got married tomorrow, would it suddenly make the whole thing acceptable? No.” She answered herself. “No, you’d still be just as mad. You’d still say it was a lie. So what makes an engagement real? A wedding real?”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and looked into the wings. Looked at Laura face. Fierce and proud as she clenched her phone tight in her hand.

“Love.” Carmilla let the word hang, “That’s what my mother never understood. That’s why she thought it was a lie but the truth, the real truth is, that I’ve been in love with Laura Hollis for as long as I can remember. I may have ignored it but it was always there from the moment I realized I couldn’t ask anyone else to play the role of the person who meant everything to me. That role was already filled and only she could hold it.”

Carmilla stood straighter, “I’ve loved Laura Hollis from the start and I love her now. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

There was a moment of quiet before a question came that shot Carmilla straight through the heart, “But does she love you? Are you two actually getting married?”

Her stomach twisted and her throat clogged, fingers gripping just a little tighter as Carmilla kept her eyes on the skyline rather than look over at Laura. “I don’t know at this time,” Carmilla said, “And I won’t speak on Laura’s behalf.”

“So your mother is right?” Someone else called, “You got taken in by a pretty face and -”

“My mother is not-” Carmilla started but another reporter shouted over.

“How do we even know you’re telling the truth? You could just be making this whole thing up after the fact to try and cover…”

Their waves of accusations washed over her and Carmilla could practically hear her mother crowing in her head. Could hear all the ways that she could never do anything without her mother’s help. Could hear that she wasn’t good enough. Could hear how much she needed her back. Her throat went dry and she squeezed her eyes shut. Fighting against the memories and the voice in her head that she knew was wrong but still seemed like the loudest thing around.

Until.

“You’ll have to forgive the flour clumps, it’s actually really hard to wash out,” Laura voice, louder than anything else and a little bit tinny, washed over the room. Carmilla grabbed onto it, dragging herself from the memories to find herself staring up at a projector on the back wall. Laura’s youtube channel was up for all to see but Carmilla had never seen this video before.

Laura was facing the camera, the sky dark in the window behind her, as she sat with one of Carmilla’s old sweatshirts wrapped around her and hair mussed as she dragged the smallest clumps of dried flour from it. The posted date was only one minute ago.

“Laura,” the word slipped out as a whisper, “what is this?”

She forgot the mic and the eyes of real Laura, still clutching her phone in the wings, found her own. The words mouthed without sound but Carmilla still understood every one, “Your choice was first.”

Then the video Laura started speaking again and Carmilla’s gaze was drawn upwards alongside the transfixed audience.

“Carm is sleeping,” Laura said. She picked up the camera and snuck the few steps to the bedroom, the footage shaky until it came to rest on Carmilla’s form curled up in bed and clutching what appeared to be Laura’s pillow. The clock on the nightstand read 3am. Carmilla swallowed, staring at herself. Face soft in sleep.

Content with her nose in the yellow pillow.

The camera retracted and the bedroom door closed with a soft click as Laura retook her place in the living room. Her thumb bounced up and down against her knee as the stars twinkled beyond the window. Laura was looking down, gnawing at her lip.

“Hey,” she said at last, “So I don’t know if I’m ever going to post this one but if I do and you’re out there watching this then I just want to say that this one probably wasn’t meant for you. I mean, if it’s posted then I’m letting you peek in but I never would have posted it for you dear viewers.” She looked up and Carmilla’s heart ached for her tired eyes and the way frustration was written all over her face, “I’d post it for her. For Carmilla.”

“Because I don’t know what to do,” Laura said, hands clenched on her knee, “And whenever I don’t know what to do then I usually go and investigate and figure it out.” She waved her hand in the air, “That’s what I do. That’s my job. It’s what I’ve always done but I don’t know how to do it here. I don’t know how to figure out myself.”

Carmilla searched Laura’s face, trying to figure out what Laura was afraid of. She knew the night this had been filmed. Only a few days back. The flour from their cookie making date clearly setting up the timeline.

“Or maybe I do and I’m just avoiding the truth. The inevitable. The part where I have to look myself in the eye and say, ‘okay Hollis. This is what you’re dealing with. Now decide what to do about it’.” Laura straightened up, giving the camera a stern look, “So, Hollis. What are you dealing with?”

She collapsed a little bit, “Carmilla. You’re dealing with Carmilla.” Closing her eyes, Laura scrunched her nose and forced herself to keep going, “You’re deal with Carmilla and all the messy feelings inside your chest that in all honesty hurt you real bad the last couple of times you listened to them in Carmilla related things and now maybe you’ve gotten real good at avoiding them because pain sucks and Carmilla’s probably the thing that hurts most.”

Carmilla flinched like she’d been hit.

“But she’s also the best thing,” Laura continued on, “And that’s the other side of the coin. She’s the best and that’s why it hurts and why all these feelings are so messy. The first time I thought we were together and then we weren’t and then it happened all over again just a few weeks ago where we were together and then we weren’t and I’m tired of having to fall for her and then leave because it hurts so much.”

Laura stared down at her fingers, “Because I don’t want to leave. I miss her when she’s gone and maybe this time is different because she’s looking at me and saying that she loves me but there’s this voice in my head that keeps saying it’s all going to come crashing down again because everyone who has ever loved me has left.”

A burnt wedding dress and a stuffed bear.

“I want to believe it’s different.” Laura said, voice teary. She stared up at the ceiling, eyes blinking in a clear effort to hold back tears. Then she looked right at the camera, all watery eyes that looked like they could see into Carmilla’s soul.

“It’s silly,” Laura said, “I love her and I don’t know what to do about it and the only one I want to talk to is her.” The sentence faded into a choked voice and watery tears the slipped down her cheeks. Laura mopped them up with the edges of her sweater. “I love her.”

Carmilla’s heart stopped. Breath gone.

The tears turning into something of a laugh, “I love her. Isn’t that both the silliest thing and the best. She loves me and I love her and yet for some reason I’m not letting us be happy like I should be. Holding back because I’m scared to love her and lose her again. I’m scared that her mother is right and that this is all just a scam to her. I’m scared that Carmilla’s going to leave me again. I’m scared that I’m being a fool.”

“But none of those things change the truth,” Laura smiled through the tears, “I love her.”

Laura sat a little straighter and if Carmilla had the ability to move she would have smiled at the sudden ‘Laura Hollis determination’ that crossed the screen. Eyes determined. “Carmilla’s mother wants to tear us apart, never even wanted me around. She’s tried before and succeeded, I’m not letting her win at it again. She wants to call me a distraction or try to pin the blame on me for all of her scheming on me, I won’t listen. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not letting Carmilla go that easily either.”

“I’m in love with Carmilla Karnstein,” Laura’s chin set, “I’m not letting her ruin that for me. Maybe we’ve both got problems but we’re going to have our whole lives to figure this out. I’ve got my whole life to convince her that I love her. Everyone else,” Laura leveled the camera a look, “I don’t care what you think. This is our love story.”

The camera shut off and Carmilla found herself blinking in the lights, eyes still fixed on the wall where the video had played. Slowly she turned back towards the podium, mind whirling at a hundred miles an hour as the cue cards seemed to burn a hole through her chest.

Laura loved her.

The crowd was silent. The light of cameras still flickering as they recorded. In her peripheral, Carmilla could see Laura hovering but she couldn’t bring herself to look. Not yet.

“My mother tried to break us up,” Carmilla’s voice was the only sound in the room, “she told me since University that I spent too much time with Laura, that she was a distraction. She told me not to pick her for this marriage and then yelled at me when I did. She’s spent the whole campaign trying to keep Laura and I apart and when I realized just how much I loved Laura, how much I had always loved her, my mother drove us apart. Gave an ultimatum that sent Laura flying back to Toronto while I stayed here. Miserable.”

Carmilla raised her gaze, knowing it was sharp and not caring as she looked into the crowd, “My mother was dismissed from my campaign because she couldn’t handle me loving Laura. The words she says now are true to some extent, we’ve covered that, but they are twisted by her desire to see us driven apart. The villain of this piece. I’ve not interest in giving her further fodder. Believe me. Or don’t,” Carmilla raised her hands, “Vote for me or don’t. But do it on my policies and what I want to do for the people. Not because I just another person confused about falling in love and had a mother determined to see me throw that love away for politics.”

She stepped back from the podim, “I’m in love with Laura Hollis. That’s the truth. Figure out the rest and then get to the poll tomorrow and vote how you will.”

With that she turned, eyes dazed as she walked from the podium to the backstage. The moment she cleared the stage, Carmilla reached. She didn’t have to reach far. Laura was already there, grabbing her tight. Eyes bright, teary. The clasp of her fingers tight.

Her words a river, “I love you.”

Carmilla melted. Melted like nothing else mattered as she looked down at Laura and held her just a little bit tighter, the words sweeping through her as Laura continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner and I’m sorry that I took so long and I’m sorry that parts of me still hurt but we’ll work on that and I just keep coming up with things to be sorry for and-”

Pulling her tighter, Carmilla whispered into her hair, “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be even a little bit sorry.”
“I’m a mess,” Laura sighed and burrowed into Carmilla’s neck.

“That’s okay. I am too,” Carmilla said.

“Maybe a little.” Carmilla could feel Laura’s smile against her neck, “I still love you though.”

Carmilla smiled, “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Laura had always preferred print journalism to broadcasting but at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to have some kind of inside scoop into the broadcasting world. She held Carmilla’s hand a little tighter, trying and failing to not keep her eyes glued to the tv on the wall of the room. There were people all over the room, big donors and campaign staff all with buttons that said ‘Vote Karnstein’ as they milled between the high cocktail tables with wine glasses and pretended to not be watching the news.

They were all watching the news.

The polls had closed twenty minutes before and the newscaster was talking about advance polling and Laura’s ‘dramatic declaration of love’. No results. Not yet.

But soon.

Mattie was down at the counting station ‘keeping an eye on things’ and Will was planning ‘an actual party to celebrate the win because ‘you can’t just have a stuffy campaign one’ but everyone else was there. There and waiting.

“Laura?”

She turned at Carmilla’s voice and found an amused smile waiting for her below the constant scrunch of Carmilla’s brow. Laura wanted to reach up and wipe it off her forehead, to ease the worry lines and take the weight off her shoulders. Laf and Perry stood beside her, looking equally amused.

Carmilla reached up and straightened Laura’s ‘I VOTED’ button, “Where’d you go, cupcake?”

“Sorry. But really? Where do you think I went?” Laura said, pointing to the screen, “I got distracted. What’d you say?”

“I said,” Laf repeated, eyeing Laura, “that I can’t believe you all kept the fact that you were fake dating a secret from me. Me!” They shook their head, “Your dearest and most bestest friend.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, “You call yourself ‘the resident truth speaker’ and you want to be told our secrets?”

“I can keep a secret!” Laf said.

Perry tutted, “Of course dear. Carmilla just didn’t want to give you the burden.”

“Sure.” Carmilla drawled, “Work with that.” Then Laura elbowed her hard in the side and Carmilla started coughing, “I mean, sure. Yes. Of course. Go team.”

Laf eyed her over the top of their glass. Sensing an upcoming argument, Laura lunged for the nearest waiter and took his entire tray of mini pizzas. “Here,” she shoved it at the group and on the table, “Food!”

Laf’s eyes brightened immediately as they took an entire fistful. Perry took one look and grabbed a bunch of napkins, forcing them to at least try and use a plate.

Carmilla turned, voice low in Laura’s ear as she grabbed a pizza, “Nice save, cupcake.”

“That’s what politician partners are meant for right? So I’m practicing.” Laura popped her own pizza in her mouth, “Diffusing tension from their bristly and unlikable partners with wit and grace. I’m more than just your arm candy Karnstein.”

“Cheeky.” Carmilla said.

Laura grinned at her until Carmilla’s smile came out. There was smallest hint of sauce on her lip. Gently, Laura used her thumb to wipe it clean, “Can’t have you looking like a mess on your big day.”

Carmilla’s eyes never left her own, “Then you better never leave my side.”

“I feel like that government might have some rules against their MPs doing that.”

Carmilla took a step closer, “Then I’ll change them. Make that my first piece of legislation.”

“Already changing the world, eh?” Laura said. Her hands dropped to Carmilla’s waist.

“Only for you.” Carmilla said, “Although this one might be a little bit for me too.”

Laura faked a frown, “That seems rather selfish of you.” Carmilla stepped closer until they were touching completely. Her eyes still locked on Laura’s. “But,” Laura continued, “I’m willing to let it slide.”

Before Carmilla could lean down, Laura went up. Kissing her just as the smile had started to grow across Carmilla’s face. The room seemed to quiet around them, uncaring of the crowd or the press or the news. The only thing that mattered was the girl in her arms. Soft against her. The rings still hanging under her shirt, pressed cool against her skin.

“Okay but in my defence,” Laf said, “how was I supposed to guess it was fake when they’ve been all gross and in love the entire time. Frosh was asking me questions all about love the whole time, that’s classic pre-marriage stuff! I mean look at them!”

Laura pulled back to look at Laf, “Look at us what?”

“Sure the kissing is new,” Laf said, “But you guys have been all moony over each other for like forever. Pardon me for wanting to believe you two had actually gotten your act together and finally realized you were actually in love the whole time. Literally a ribose sugar and a phosphate!”

“Well,” Carmilla’s voice was smug in her ear as her arm snuck around Laura’s back to rest on her hips, “I got the girl eventually didn’t I?”

“Took you literal years,” Laf grumbled, “Don’t be acting like- wait.” Their eyes went wide, “That means the date we thought was when they got together wasn’t real! It’s right now!” They turned to Perry, “Who actually won the bet?”

“You what?” Carmilla snapped.

Laura’s jaw dropped, “You bet on us?”

Perry very intentionally ignored them both, “That would be Matska actually. We’ll need to remind Mel to give the pot to her.”

“Mattie won?” Laf closed their eyes, “Oh she’s going to be insufferable about this.”

“Mattie won?” Carmilla repeated, “Really?”

Laura frowned, “What did you guys guess?”

“Oh we both lost years ago,” Laf waved their hand, “I thought it would take you guys until the end of second year and Perry bet that you’d do a big dramatic run after each other during graduation.”

They both stared at Perry who shrugged, “You both have a flair for the dramatics.”

“Do not!” Laura objected.

“And saving a video to show at the last minute of my campaign wasn’t dramatic, cupcake?” Carmilla cut in.

Laura threw her hands up, “Why are you so calm about this?”

“Because I’m going to make Mattie give us half the pot.” Carmilla said. There was a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that Laura’s shouldn’t have found as attractive as she did.

The room buzzed around them as Laura said, “Why just half? We did, after all do more than half the work?”

“Ambitious,” Carmilla said, “I like it.”

“I should hope so,” Laf muttered, “That’s my money you’re flirting over.”

Carmilla smirk got wider as she winked, “You win some you lose some gingersnap. Today, you lost. And I got the girl.”

“Got my own girl, thank you very much.” Laf grinned at Perry who was glancing down at her phone, “And it’s definitely your fault that I lost, I think I deserve a cut of-”

“The votes are in!” Perry cut in. She snatched the remote from her pocket and blasted the volume on the TVs.

Laura froze. Tensed. Carmilla’s hand tightened on her hip as she stiffened. Laura found her fingers, twining them together as her eyes bounced between the tv and Carmilla’s face. Fixed to the screens like the rest of the room.

“We’re just getting the official count in now, everyone.” The newscaster had a hand on his earpiece, eyes clearly tracking the flurry of activity in the room around him that the camera didn’t see. “Should be just a moment now.”

The air in the room could have been cut with a knife, hanging thick and heavy. Laura’s breath felt caught in her throat as someone handed the newscaster a piece of paper. Carmilla a drawn bowstring beside her.

“Ready?” Laura whispered.

Carmilla looked down. Paused. Let her eyes roam Laura’s face as the tension suddenly whooshed out of her, letting her warmth sink a little more into Laura’s side. “Always.” Carmilla said at last.

“Alright everyone,” the newscaster said, “The results are in and the bielection seat goes to,” the newcaster’s eyebrows shot up, “by an unexpected 22% margin of voters, is Carmilla Karnstein. Karnstein wins!”

The room was frozen. Like a timepiece in the middle of flipping. Like a drawn arrow before the fire. Every second held in suspension as the words sank in.

The room exploded in noise. Cheers and hugs and noisemakers as campaign staff fistpumped the air and smiles broke out on every face as everyone started moving and talking and rolling over everyone else in a wave.

Except.

Carmilla.

She stayed still, sunk into Laura’s side with their fingers intertwined. Laura spun to her, breaking and remaking contact so fast it was like the heat was never gone at all. She could feel the smile bubbling inside her.

Carmilla smiled back, “Well. That was a kick.”

Laura laughed and squeezed her tight. Then pulled back, “You won! I mean, obviously you know you won because they just said it but we actually did it! You did it! All those months and years of work and you’ve finally got what you wanted and we did it without your mother and I’m sorry that i’m talking so much but Carm!” She said, “Carm, you won!”

Carmilla was still holding on. Still staring at Laura. “Yeah,” she said, “Yeah I did.”

She wasn’t sure who moved but she was kissing Carmilla. Hard and soft and Laura was sure that it was being screened on thousands of TVs as the press at their campaign party caught the moment but she didn’t care because Carmilla could finally have everything she’d been working towards. They’d won. It was over. She had Carmilla and she was kissing her and the monster was slain and this was how the story was supposed to end.

“So,” she said, slightly breathless, “You’re an official member of parliament now. How about an exclusive?”

Carmilla just laughed.

When Laf, Perry, and the rest of the team mobbed them in a group hug, Laura just smiled bigger Carmilla still caught in her arms.

They’d won.

They got their happy ending.

#

The campaign office was silent as Carmilla leaned against the doorway of what was technically her personal office for all she barely used it. Her blazer draped over the back of the chair as she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her shoulders. She looked out over the main space of the office. The lights were out, only a few small desk lamps illuminating the rows of tightly packed desks and chairs that filled the bulk of the large space. Vote Karnstein buttons and flags and posters were draped over everything. Her face and name staring back at her a hundred times over.

The staff were still celebrating. Laura was writing up her ‘exclusive interview with newest MP Carmilla Karnstein with plans to meet in 30 minutes for a late late dinner.

Carmilla tapped her knuckles lightly on the doorframe. Yet she was here.

She closed her eyes and stayed quiet. Only the sound of heat in the pipes kept her company, a low rumble that filled the room like the scent of day-old coffee and printed paper that tickled her nose on the heater’s breeze. No voice. No phones.

She’d won. She’d actually won.

Carmilla closed her eyes tighter.

Just her and the silence and the room that was going to become the place she spent all day everyday for all the foreseeable years ahead. A little more polished. A little more refined but this was where she was supposed to live her dream.

Her dream.

She’d won. She’d actually won.

“I suppose congratulation are in order.”

Carmilla’s eyes snapped opened. She grabbed the doorknob as the voice cut through the silence. That voice. Always that voice. Couldn’t touch her. Not anymore. She took a breath, “What are you doing here, mother?”

Mrs Karnstein appeared from the hallway, silhouetted by the light of the window despite the cloudy sky. Rain bursting at the seams to pour. Her mother didn’t care, looking like a shadow of unknown features before she took another step and that same face snapped into focus. The light still behind her. Except. Her mother was smiling.

Smiling a smile that Carmilla had never seen before and Carmilla’s hand gripped the door a little harder.

“I know we’ve differed recently,” Mrs Karnstein said, “but you’re still my daughter, Carmilla. I know you. I knew you’d come here.”

Carmilla. She’d called her Carmilla.

Carmilla swallowed. Straightened, “Why are you here then? I fired you.”

“You did,” Mrs Karnstein nodded, “But I’m not here as your campaign manager. I’m here as your mother.”

“Perry got a restraining order.”

For a moment, Mrs Karnstein rolled her eyes, “You always were so dramatic. Is it really so hard to believe that I simply wanted to congratulate you? ”

“Yes.” Carmilla snapped. Her hand itched, moving towards her pocket. She could call someone. She could walk out the door. She didn’t have to listen to-

“I’m proud of you.”

Her hand froze. Her mother’s words hung in the air between them and Carmilla couldn’t find insincerity in them. They sunk into her chest, burrowing between the ribs without her permission to settle inside her. Her mother was smiling. Smiling. Eyes flashing with something that Carmilla’s traitorous chest wanted to label pride

“I’m so proud of you,” Mrs Karnstein repeated, “My glittering girl. Did something that the rest of this family could never do. That your father and Matska and William couldn’t.” Her eyes found Carmilla’s, “This role was always meant to be yours, darling. You’ve done something none of them could ever do. I’ve always known that. Only my glittering girl was good enough, given the right push.”

Carmilla shook her head as if to clear it, “I. What?”

The rain started outside. A heavy patter of fat drops that acted as a silence all it’s own.

Her mother took another step forward, “You’ve done something that even I could never achieve. You’re living my dream, darling.” Carmilla’s eyes went wide, “All of this. Everything we’ve planned. Everything we dreamed. We’ve done it.”

She took one more step and placed her hand on Carmilla’s cheek, skin cool to the touch, “Congratulations, darling.”

Her hands came down, smoothing the edges of Carmilla’s leather jacket as though she could somehow magic it back into a blazer. “You worked hard,” her mother said, “played all the right notes. You did it perfect. The spotlight came on and you didn’t freeze like I’d so worried you would. But you didn’t. Not this time, darling. You got it perfect and I have never been more proud.”

A thousand different things were pounding inside Carmilla’s chest reverberting from a seven year old girl and back again. The emotions swelled in her chest. Twisted into a single word that got stuck in her throat.

Finally.

Finally. Finally. Finally.

One word came out. A choked whisper, “Mom?”

The world smelled like perfume. That same perfume that hung in a handful of treasured memories when her mother held her close. The day she’d graduated. Won the right to the riding. The hug was stiff but it wrapped around Carmilla like a dream, her head ending up on her mother’s shoulder. The grip loose as Carmilla’s own arms dangled at her sides. “I’m here, darling.” her mother said, voice soft in her ear, “I’ve always been here.”

Then her mother stepped back. Carmilla just stared at her. Perfume lingering like the words that had burrowed into her chest and ignited something inside her, a hole she hadn’t managed to banish had the smallest spark. It was warm and soft and there and she couldn’t help but be drawn to it’s warmth even when her head screamed at it.

This fire incinerated.

A tear snuck from her cheek and her mother watched it fall before brushing it away, “None of that now, darling. You did it. Just like I planned. Your father would be so proud of you.”

An alarm bell. Carmilla ignored it.

Her head came up, “You think?”

“I know.” Her mother smiled, “We should go out for dinner. Celebrate the win. I’ve made us a reservation at Hastur’s. I hear the food is divine. Practically worth dying for.”

Outside, the rain continued rumbling down creating a sea of white noise around. It dripped down the window in rivelts.

Carmilla took a small step backward, “I have plans with Laura.”

She lost her breath at her mother’s answer, “That’s fine. Invite Miss Hollis to come along. We’ll discuss what comes next for all of us”

Something was wrong. That was wrong. Carmilla narrowed her eyes, her hand went to her cell phone, “You hate Laura.”

“Please,” Mrs Karnstein rolled her eyes, “While I admit that Miss Hollis wasn’t in my original plan, I cannot deny that this revised version has played out even better than intended. She was a perfect play whole saccharine in love angle that won you the final bid. We may need it again. It’s exactly as I intended when I realized that we weren’t going to win on policy alone. I was worried I’d have to fetch her back from Toronto myself.”

Carmilla froze.

“I will say,” Mrs Karnstein pulled out her phone and typed a message, not even looking at Carmilla, “I was quite pleased you took initiative and fired me like that. Much better proof than if I’d simply walked away.” She glanced up, pride dancing again, “I didn’t realize you had that much foresight darling. Perhaps I’ll have to include you in more of my upcoming agreements. You are certainly more than that pretty face.”

Everything was screaming at her now. Every word a klaxon in her head that she’d missed something. Still the feeling in her chest, that small seven year old girl locked in a closet, refused to die. Her mother was proud of her. Finally. She’d done it right.

Her words were careful, “Upcoming agreements?”

“Your first series of bills, darling.” Mrs Karnstein slipped her phone in her bag, “Like I told you, I already started working on them. They’re going to expand our interests quite nicely. Put some big name companies in our back pockets.”

No. No. This wasn’t possible.

“I fired you.”

Her mother actually laughed, “As per the plan darling. Wait a few days and re-hire me. We’ll tell the press that we’ve resolved our disagreement, a simple family squabble. These things happen. The press will eat up the happy family dynamic.” Her mother frowned slightly, “Clearly, you’re missing some of the plan, Carmilla. Perhaps I overestimated you.”

Carmilla clenched her fists, “What plan?”

Tutting, her mother slipped past her and into Carmilla’s office to take Carmilla’s blazer off the back of the chair and sit at Carmilla’s desk. Carmilla turned to follow, hand still tight on the doorknob.

“And here I thought you understood.” Her mother reclined slightly, the dim lights glowing shadows on her face. Outside, thunder rumbled over the rain. Her mothers words were blunt, “You were going to lose, Carmilla and with some reporter poking around my business I couldn’t risk fixing that in my more conventional ways. So, I engineer this whole charade to ensure your victory.”

Carmilla shook her head, “You did nothing. You weren’t even involved. My team and Laura and I decided everything on our own. I didn’t even know that Laura had that video.”

Her mother laughed, “Darling, I did everything and one look at the girl tells me exactly what kind of length she would go to help you, smitten as she is. Miss Hollis has her faults but she is predictable. I appreciate that. How you managed to charm her into loving you was a feat indeed.”

“You knew she loved me?”

“I have eyes.” Mrs Karnstein said, “It was obvious. As was your little crush. Emotions play well with voters and they make you both predictable. I was willing to allow it.”

“Allow it?” Carmilla took a step forward, trying not to flinch as lightning cracked the air outside. Voice firm, “You did nothing.”

Carmilla hated her mother’s smirk, “I gave you a villain, darling. I gave them a villain. People love a love story but even that wasn’t going to be enough, especially if your little lie came out. What I did was reshape. The angry mother looking to sabotage true love. Who exposed you on live tv. Who supposedly manipulated your every step. Who gave you a reason to tell the truth. Something for you to rally the people against, to redirect their anger against so that all their anger towards you was on me. With that gone,” her mother shrugged, “they had to love your love story. The hero who slayed the monster and got the girl.”

Carmilla’s breath vanished. Her chest ached and everything hurt. “You did it all on purpose?”

The answer was simple, “This is my dream. I’d do anything for it. And you,” that smile was back again but all the allure was gone. Carmilla left with a shake in her fingers and a hole in her bones, “my glittering girl. You did it.”

Mrs Karnstein stood, holding Carmilla’s blazer out to her. “Now take off that silly jacket, put this on, call Miss Hollis, and we’ll all go to family dinner. Make sure the press gets a few shots before we discuss which of the bills I’ve set up should be your first move.”

Carmilla stared at the blazer as her mother stood behind her desk with the empty office looming behind them. A hundred of her own posters staring back at her with their dead eyes.

The rain poured, the thunder cracked as lightning flashed again.

Taking a deep breath, Carmilla drew herself up and straighten her shoulders. She looked her mother right in the eye and spoke, “No.”

Then she turned and ran. Leaving her blazer behind, Carmilla ran right into the rain. It crashed over her skin and soaked through her clothes. Cold. Sticking to her. Her hair matted to her head as she ran, feet pounding the sidewalk as puddles splashed underfoot. The sound of rain was all she could hear as her nose filled with that smell that only came from rain. It was so thick she couldn’t see it come down around her.

But it didn’t matter.

She ran to the apartment, streets empty. The door was in sight when Laura stepped outside from where she’d been waiting in the lobby. Brow furrowed. Raincoat tight around her. “Carm?” she shouted over the rain, “what are you doing?”

Carmilla skidded to a stop. Her fancy election day clothes hung off her, soaked with rain, as only her jacket kept its shape. She could feel the rain pound her skin, felt it the moment lightning ripped through the sky above, as thunder rolled over her like a wave.

And she laughed.

She leaned back to let the rain pour over her face and laughed at it.

There was warmth on her skin. Laura’s hands gentle on her face as guided Carmilla’s head back down, “Carm? What’s going on?”

She leaned forward, resting her head on Laura’s, “I told my mother no!” She couldn’t stop the grin on her face or the shake in her hands. Both true and real all that the same time.

Laura caught one of her hands, the other stayed on her cheek. Soft and warm. The rain poured over her and Laura didn’t move even as Carmilla watched the rain patter off her skin and coat her from head to toe in water. Laura stayed. Carmilla gave her the other hand too.

“I told my mother no,” Carmilla repeated. She refused to close her eyes, staring at the question marks written on Laura’s pupils, “We’re in so much trouble and my mother planned the whole thing and I don’t know what to do but I told her no, Laura.” Her last words soft, “I told her no.”

The thunder crashed and the lightning struck and Carmilla held Laura closer and smiled.

Chapter Text

They canceled their fancy dinner date and Carmilla pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders as she slipped out of the shower and into one of her old t-shirts and Laura’s trackpants. The curls of her hair dripped water onto the shirt where the Silas U logo stared up at her. The shirt of a girl who had nothing to worry about but her textbooks and her annoying roommate.

Carmilla padded from the bedroom to find a heap of delivery on the living room table and that same annoying roommate trying to keep the heap from toppling over.

Her breath caught.

The rain continued to pour out the window but all Carmilla could see was the way Laura was lit by the glow of the electric fireplace, the warmth shining off her skin. She reached to save a box from falling and her hair, barely air-dried from the rain, fell over her nearly bare shoulder to kiss the edges of the neckline of her tank top.

Carmilla moved, eyes caught on the spot and a smile on her lips as she slid up behind Laura and gently pressed a kiss to her shoulder, one arm finding her waist.

“Hi,” Carmilla murmured.

“Your hair’s cold,” Laura said but didn’t pull away. Instead, she sank back, “the food came.”

“I can see that.”

Carmilla leaned over Laura’s shoulder as Laura looked up; a wry smile already on her face as she anticipated Carmilla’s move. Carmilla didn’t let that stop her. She gave Laura a long slow kiss that banished any thought of cold rainstorms better than a warm shower ever could. Laura was soft in her arms, all smooth muscles and careful kisses.

Laura pulled back, her words soft despite the house being empty. Like the moment deserved nothing but the sacredest of sounds, “Alright ladykiller, let’s get some food into you, eh?”

Stealing another kiss, Carmilla reached for the takeout boxes. She flopped onto the couch and used the coffee table as a footstool, Laura settling down next to her so close that they touched in a hundred little different places. The rain continued to pour outside as the fire flickered across their faces, the only witnesses to a dozen soft smiles and silly stories and one too many noodles stuffed in mouths.

They wasted an hour talking of nothing and it felt like anything but wasted.

When the last box of takeout was tossed across the room and into the garbage, Laura was pressed against her with her head on Carmilla’s chest as Laura sprawled across the couch. Carmilla smiled, her fingers running through the ends of Laura’s hair.

Her gaze drifted to the freshly printed pile of papers sitting on Laura’s desk with confidential written across them in big letters, “How bad is it?”

She felt Laura sigh, “Pretty bad.”

Her mother’s email had been waiting when they’d finally made it to the apartment, three new proposed bills listed in the attachments. Laws to be presented that were only waiting Carmilla’s signature.

“You’d want to have a lawyer or someone look over them to be sure of the wording,” Laura continued, “but to me they sound like pretty words over bills that would give big business tax breaks and easier ability to break a whole bunch of environmental laws. That’s just the one that I got through.”

Carmilla closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the couch, “I can’t sign that.”

Laura’s voice was wry, “You should probably read them yourself but I’d personally prefer if you didn’t.”

“Mother will be furious.”

“Yupp.”

Carmilla cracked a smile but kept her eyes closed, “Probably already is with how I ran out of there.” She sighed, “She’s just going to keep doing this.”

“So what do you want to do?” Laura asked.

“I don’t know.” Her fingers continued to play with Laura’s hair, gently working the knots from the end as the fine hairs parted around her fingers. She could feel Laura’s warmth against her side, feel her move with every breath as the fullness of the silence of the apartment curled around them. The patter of rain and crackle of the fake fire and hum of Laura every time Carmilla scratched her scalp. The room smelled of good food and old books and the hint of spice lingered on Carmilla’s tongue.

The words slipped out, “That’s a lie.”

They hung there as she felt, more than saw, Laura roll over. Carmilla could feel her eyes searching Carmilla’s face.

Carmilla opened her own and found softness waiting for her.

“What’s a lie?” Laura asked.

Falling from Laura’s hair, her hand traced the line of her jaw, “That I don’t know what I want to do. The farther we go, the more I’ve pushed and broken from my mother, the more I’ve realized what I want. I’ve just been ignoring it. Pushing it down.”

“Okay.” Laura sat up, her eyes already gleaming, “So let’s do that. Whatever it is. We’ll make it happen. Storm the House of Commons. Take on the patriarchy. Write a kick-butt bill of your choice. Let’s do it.” She reached for a pen, “Let’s start with a list and then we can break it down from there and-”

Something bubbled in Carmilla’s chest as Laura jumped to work on the unknown thing that Carmilla wanted. The bubbling spilled out as a soft laugh as she reached out and grabbed Laura’s hand, stopping it mid-flail and extracting the pen. Softly, she slid the pen behind Laura’s ear.

“Always with a mission, eh Hollis?”

Laura shrugged, red on her cheeks, “Sorry. Maybe I’ll let you tell me what you want first?” She nodded primly, “Alright Carm. What do you want?”

It was the easiest word she’d ever said, “You.”

Laura’s breath caught.

“I want you,” Carmilla repeated, “I want you and me and a life where I get to make my own choices. Where it’s impossible for me to be part of my mother’s games and I get to decide what I want my dream to be. I don’t know what that dream looks like yet but I know it’s got you. I love you.” She gave Laura a long look, “I’m not going away again.”

“I love you too.” Laura’s voice was watery even as her hands scrambled for Carmilla’s, “But I can’t just put my own name on a list!”

Carmilla smiled and squeezed Laura’s hands, “Well, I’d also like to get rid of my mother. We’ll make that item two.” The rain poured softly, “How’s that article of yours coming, cupcake?”

“It’s,” Laura sighed as one of her hands fell away to run through her hair, “I can prove there was rigging and I can trace it as far as your campaign but. Well.” Her words stalled, eyes on her knees.

Carmilla recaptured her hand, “Tell me.”

“I can’t find a way to get your mother without implicating you as well.”

Carmilla said nothing, just watched as the flood of words opened. Laura pointed to a massive pile of binders and papers in the corner. “Your finances are just so tied together and your mother drew everything through the campaign offices. So it’s hard to know which person from your team was really involved. I have a bunch of peripheral evidence that shows it was her but nothing ironclad.” Laura’s gaze was half steely reporter and half girlfriend begging for an answer, “I can’t get her without making you maybe lose everything.”

Carmilla paused.

Considered.

Ran her thumb over Laura’s knuckles and looked at the stack of papers.

Laura grip tightened as she nodded, “I’ll keep looking, digging. Don’t worry. I’ll get her. Just her.”

“You should run it now.” Carmilla said.

Laura’s jaw dropped, “Excuse me? Carm? Were you listening? I said you’d probably lose everything. You’d be tied to election rigging by your own mother. We’d get her but they’d get you too. That would ruin your campaign.”

“Let it,” she said.

Something in her chest felt lighter.

“What? Carm.” Laura said, “They’d take it all away.”

“Not all of it,” Carmilla said. She brushed Laura’s hair back into place where it had gone askew in Laura’s distress. Something settled in her chest as she looked at Laura, “I’d lose my mother. The life she wanted for me. Maybe the bills and the job and the jackets and the dream that was never really mine to begin with, just something I’d been trained to want, would go with it. I wouldn’t lose the good things.” Carmilla said, “Not my dreams.”

She paused, “Not you.”

She could feel Laura’s breath stutter, “You want me to run the article?”

Carmilla didn’t hesitate, “Run it.”

#

Glancing around the tidied up living room, Laura’s thumb hovered over the ‘LIVE’ button as she looked at Carmilla sitting on the couch. She was trying to lounge but Laura could read every line of tension in her body as the sun rose through the window.

“You’re sure?” Laura said.

Carmilla eyes were tired, so tired that Laura wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and hide her away, but there was peace lurking in them too, “I’m sure.”

She glanced down at her phone, the message from Betty only moments old, ‘It’s up, Hollis. Well done. This might be your biggest one yet.” Then ‘give my thanks to karnstein for the scoop.’

Laura took a deep breath.

Here went everything.

She hit the button and the camera light flicked on as the livestream started to her YouTube channel. Laura slid into frame, adjusting her blazer as she smiled at the camera, “Good early morning everyone. I’m sorry for the very very early video alert but as loyal Hollis viewers, I’m sure you know that the news doesn’t wait for the intrepid reporter! It smacks us on the head and demands attention.”

Carmilla snorted.

Laura gave her a look before turning back to the camera, “I wanted to update you all live and in person. You can go to the Toronto Daily website to read the full story it now or if you’re a paper copy subscriber it’ll be in your mailbox this morning. Full multi-page spread. Right on the cover. But,” Laura said, “these are the cliff’s notes.”

Carmilla leaned forward on the couch, watching her from off-frame and Laura’s hand twitched to go to her. Instead, she let her fingers briefly touch the edge of the long necklace she still wore under her shirt. Grounding her. “I have evidence,” Laura said, “that the two most-recent bi-elections before this week’s election were rigged. Through investigations talking to voting staff who have agreed to come forward with bribes and blackmail and ballot fraud, I’ve found that both elections were rigged in favour of particular candidates and likely changed the final outcomes. As such, I’m calling for immediate re-elections and general electoral reform across the country.”

She caught the burst of comments that erupted in the chat as she spoke.

“Ah yes,” Laura continued with a smile, “but Laura, you ask, what about the most recent election that you were personally involved in? The election of one Miss Carmilla Karnstein to the status of MP.” She dropped the smile, “As far as I can currently tell, there was no rigging in the Ottawa election and MP Karnstein gained her seat fairly. Sources have cited that the person behind the rigging was aware that someone was digging into the issue and couldn’t pull that off here. Surprise!” Laura made a small jazz hand motion, “I was the one digging into it.”

Carmilla’s smile was infectious but Laura forced herself to stay focused. “Now, that still begs the question. Who was behind the rigging? Perhaps one party really wanted their candidate to win and rigged the election in their favour. But no!” She pointed dramatically, “My sources, which my editor wants me to remind you can be read in the Toronto Daily, indicate that it was actually party self-sabotage.”

She could feel the air drop even through the computer screen, “That’s right, the party that rigged the election rigged it against themselves.” Laura leaned closer to the camera, “which begs the question why? Why would someone do that and what would they have to gain?”

Laura let the question linger as she closed her eyes, “And this is the part, dear viewers, where I struggled. Where I had began pulling on its strings before I even realized what it was. Where the story gets personal.” She opened her eyes and looked straight at Carmilla. Her journalistic integrity fighting with her need to help Carmilla.

Would she burn down the world, let injustice thrive, just to save the girl she loved?

Carmilla didn’t ask her to make that choice. When her eyes found Laura’s there was nothing but calm in them, readiness, a certainty that Laura hadn’t expected. Carmilla nodded and Laura found her voice again.

“I traced the rigging through contacts and funds to the Karnstein offices,” Laura said. The air felt tight as she let the words go. Through it all, Carmilla never broke her gaze. Never flinched. Never hesitated. “It’s impossible to say for sure who moved the money but here are the facts. I found a locked cabinet in an office across town, the same building that former manager Mrs Karnstein has her personal office in, that lists a series of contacts. Chasing down these contacts revealed that each was bribed to then blackmail someone key to the story. What I cannot prove is that these contacts spoke to Mrs Karnstein directly. They never met the person dropping off their money and the trail itself comes from the general campaign slush fund. I can show that some of the money entering this fund came from specific third party donors, big business mostly, that was then passed on almost to the dollar for the bribes if you add them up. I’ve attached names in my actual article.”

The chat was on fire as comments flew in faster than Laura could watch them.

“So we can get them at least,” Laura nodded sharply, “but the question becomes, who took the money out of the fund? It’s almost all e-transfer and all upper level management in the campaign had access to those accounts and took funds for everything from speeches to advertising. So I had to narrow down which transfers were the bribe ones. They all came from an unregistered account on the system. Only the candidate and the manager could have created it. So I tracked the IP addressed back and found the location of all the transfers that was done pinging from a tower here in Ottawa. I can’t narrow it down more than that myself.”

“Ottawa doesn’t seem surprising considering that’s where everyone lives. Except,” Laura’s smile turned a tad triumphant, “during one of those times Carmilla wasn’t in Ottawa. She was in Toronto, proposing to me in front of the entire staff of the Toronto Daily. So she couldn’t have been the one to do it. Mrs Karnstein however was in Ottawa at the time.” Laura sat up a little straighter, “I have more evidence like that, all laid out in the article. I can’t prove Carmilla didn’t do it but it certainly doesn’t look like she did.”

“I’ve given everything I have to the police and they’ll be attempting to narrow it down further.” Laura said,”From there, I gathered examples and cases of voter fraud across the country, North America and Europe. It’s not as common as you think but it’s out there and I’ve exposed it, not only here, but in a half dozen other campaigns with patterns similar to this one. I’m putting forward petitions to all relevant countries and the UN to work on fair and transparent voter access.”

The chat flashed with more and more comments as her views climbed. One name repeated over and over again. Carmilla. Why would her mother do it?

“You all want motive,” Laura’s smile to the camera was a little sad, “Motive is harder, motive doesn’t build on facts and my editor made me cut that section of the piece. She was probably right. All I have is conjecture. Obviously there’s a lust for power involved. A desire for your own outcomes. But does it get more personal?” She looked at Carmilla again, “Here’s my conjecture of motive. No proof. Just observation and circumstantial evidence. I believe that Mrs Karnstein made candidates from her party fail in the other bi-elections so that Carmilla would be her party’s linchpin, so that she could be the one to ‘save’ the party and give them the majority of seats. She told me as much when she unveiled her ‘fake dating’ scheme. But” Laura shook her head, “It’s my word against hers for this one and I’m too close to be much of an impartial witness.”

Laura couldn’t stop the next sentence anyway, shoulder and chin up, “Doesn’t mean it’s not true though!”

The chat flew by a mix of belief and disbelief.

“How can I know it wasn’t Carmilla?” Laura read one of the questions. “Well the evidence we do have doesn’t line up,” Laura said but then she shrugged, “And the truth is that I know Carmilla better than just about anyone and I don’t think this is something she would do. And yeah, maybe I am blinded by love or whatever but that’s why my article is just the investigation and the facts. We’ll let the police decide. The courts run any trials. I’m in love with one of them and the other tried to break us up so yeah, I’m not particularly non-biased. I disclosed that right in the byline.”

The questions kept coming.

“Trust me,” Laura said, “You’ve seen the drama of this campaign alone. I know Mrs Karnstein seems great and she smiles really well. I was fooled for years. But she’s not. She’s so sneaky.”

“Mother is a master manipulator.” Carmilla said. Laura almost jumped as Carmilla slid into the chair beside her, the two of them barely fitting on the cushion as Carmilla’s arm slid behind her back. “She has been for as long as I can remember, doing and saying whatever she can to get what she wants.”

There was a slight shake in Carmilla’s fingers so Laura gently touched them, looking at Carmilla. “I can shut the camera off,” she offered.

Carmilla shook her head, “I need to do this.” She looked at the camera and ran a hand through her hair while the other one held tight to Laura’s hip.

“For as long as I can remember,” Carmilla said, “I’ve done what my mother wanted. She’s always had a script and I’ve always followed it. Gave speeches to help my father’s campaigns as a child or showed up and smiled cute for my mother’s fundraisers. Aside from a brief spring of rebelliousness around 19 where I went to a school across the province and wore too much leather, I’ve listened. And even then, even when I thought I was rebelling I was doing what she wanted. Because that how she works, she takes your actions and uses them against you. She confuses you until you do what she wants because you just want to make your mom happy. Even when,” Carmilla’s words quieted and her hand squeezed tighter. Then the words were pushed out, “even when you’re a little girl locked in a dark basement closet because you couldn’t make your mother happy. You try.”

Laura’s breath caught and her heart tore as Carmilla put all the messy pieces of herself into the open. With the camera blinking, she had to settle for pressing as close to Carmilla as she could instead of wrapping her up in her arms.

Her hand stayed tight on Laura’s hip but her eyes never wavered from the camera. “The script has always been that my mother would become an MP and then, when she couldn’t, that script fell to me. My mother turning her dream into mine until I was convinced it was what I wanted. She’s set every scenario and even now, after I fired her, she’s still trying to run my life.”

“I don’t want that.” Carmilla continued, “I don’t know how much of her influence is in my life, in this campaign. I can’t guarantee she hasn’t tainted everything. I can’t know where she has her hooks in my election and my life. I don’t think she’ll ever stop. Because this is her dream. It’s just me living it.”

“But,” Carmilla turned her head and Laura found herself caught in that gaze of warm brown and tired eyes. “her dream isn’t my dream. I need to figure out exactly what my dream looks like. Separate from her. Maybe it is politics. But then I want to restart without her. Forge my own path.”

The words washed over Laura’s face, “I resign.”

There was a pause. A moment. An instance as the words lingered and as they floated away, Laura could see something invisible and yet obvious float off Carmilla’s back with them. Something she hadn’t realized was there but suddenly seemed so obvious a weight on Carmilla’s shoulders.

“I resign,” Carmilla said again, “Call another election. All three elections. Make sure the vote is fair for everyone and my name won’t be on the ballot.” She looked at Laura, long and hard and with a hundred different potential realities in her eyes, “I’m finding my own dream.”

Rather than hitting the stop button, Carmilla just closed the laptop with a decisive click. Her eyes stayed on Laura’s the whole time.

“Really?” Laura breathed the word as a hundred different words got caught in her throat behind it.

“Really.” Carmilla said.

“But. What.” Laura’s brain seemed stalled, “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Carmilla leaned in, “I’ve been refusing to let myself think about quitting for months. I hate political pandering. I hate campaigning. I hate my office and the blazers and the fake posing and the ads and the smiling. I just,” she shrugged, “didn’t know how to say no to my mother. So I convinced myself I was happy. Kept right on doing it too until,” her hand slid to the back of Laura’s neck and Laura could feel the warmth of it, “until my old college roommate, who I was secretly in love with, showed up and insisted that I deserved better. That we all did. Especially me.”

The phone started to ring. They ignored it.

Laura laughed and moved into Carmilla’s space, delighted to find that Carmilla’s gaze went right to her lips, “Sounds like a pretty smart roommate.”

“Well,” Carmilla said, “she fell in love with me so how smart can she really be?”

“The smartest.” The word was a kiss, surrounded by a breath and surrendered to a moment in time as they both moved. Pressed impossibly tight in the chair as Carmilla’s tongue moved soft and slowly against her own. Stopping only to breath as a dozen tiny kisses were pressed against her lips.

“You asked me what I wanted over and over again.” Carmilla said as Laura pulled off Carmilla’s blazer and pressed her hands under the remaining shirt against her bare back, “It’s time to find out.”

#

The sun was well in the sky when Carmilla rapped on the door of her mother's house. She held Laura’s hand tightly as she waited before the imposing double doors, shining white like they’d never been touched. Even in the sunshine, her breath hung in the air like a cloud.

A yellow scarf around her neck.

The door creaked open as one of her mother’s housekeepers let them in. Stepping into the foyer, Carmilla glanced around the building that she’d never actually been in without a party going on even if it was technically her home. It was always used for an event to promote her mother’s agenda. Her mother prefered Carmilla live in the rented apartment, away from her. The room was large but emotionless, like something dragged from a home show and never lived in.

“Well,” Laura said as the sound of the closed door rebounded through the space, “this is, uh, clean.”

Carmilla snorted, “I think you mean sterile in the bad way.”

“I was trying to be a tad more delicate while we invade someone’s home.” Laura said.

Carmilla smiled and pulled her towards the tall stairs that wound around the room to the second floor, “Don’t go soft on me now, cupcake.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “Did I say home? Because I meant creepy villainous mansion. This is something straight out of Buffy that like evil vampires live in.”

“You’re not wrong.”

The journey up the steps seemed fast and slow all at the same time as Carmilla headed towards her mother’s home office at the end of the hall. A room she’d never been in. Never been allowed in. She put her hand on the doorknob and paused.

Laura squeezed her hand, watching without a word.

Carmilla turned the knob and the door clicked open. The room was well designed, all wooden furnishing and large bookshelves, but like the house around it the room was impersonal. Straight from the catalogue if not for the obvious age of the antiques. The only personal touches were the books and papers stacked throughout the room.

And the person behind the desk.

Carmilla stepped into the room, “Hello mother.”

Her mother’s head came up, “Mircalla. I told you that I would come to your apartment in an hour.”

“We got your seven messages,” Carmilla set her face to stone, “That’s why we’re here. Thought you might be running from the police.”

Her mother chuckled, “Why would I run? They don’t have any probable cause to get a warrant.”

There was something in her mother’s face that Carmilla didn’t know what to do with, that same cold demeanor but the wrong twitch of her lips. A couple hairs fallen out of place. The papers around her were piled haphazardly as though, by stepping into her mother’s space, she’d cracked the facade just slightly.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait until I’m ready for you,” her mother said. She sat up, straightening the edges of her skirt, “I’m still in the process of handling this little rebellious streak you’ve stumbled into. I’ve made some calls and we’re working on putting out a piece that this was simply a panic response from a young MP spooked by a patently false article making allegations for a two-bit newspaper.”

She felt Laura twitch beside her and then visibly bite her tongue as she squeezed Carmilla’s hand again and stepped up beside her.

“We can get this whole ‘resignation’ swept away,” Her mother continued, “I just need you to-”

“No.” Carmilla cut her mother off even as something in her shook, “No. There’s no ‘we’. No backtracking. Nothing I’m doing for you. I’m done.” She clung tighter to Laura’s hand.

“Now darling,” Her mother rose to come around the desk, hands out, “Surely we can work through this whole little misunderstanding. You don’t need to throw away your entire career for-”

“I’m not throwing it away,” Carmilla snapped, “I’m doing what I want. Without any input from you. I just want you to stop calling. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want to work with you. I don't want you working on my behalf. I quit. I’m done with your lies and I’m not signing anything you give me.”

Her mother’s face went hard and her arms came down as she leaned back against the front of her desk and laughed right in Carmilla’s face. Something cold and hard and empty, “You’re going to quit? Really. Come on Mircalla. Be realistic. The only success you’ve ever had in your entire life is success that I put there. You think you can do anything without me? You can’t. Everything you’ve ever done is because of me. You don’t have anything on your own.”

“She’s not on her own,” Laura cut in.

The sharp gaze transferred to Laura, “And I suppose this whole thing was your idea, Miss Hollis. Fitting. The blind leading the incompetent. I’m sure you’ll both do very well.”

“Quitting was my idea,” Carmilla said.

“Was it?” Her mother raised an eyebrow and Carmilla hated how much of her own face she saw looking at her, “Well, that’s a bout of independence that’s unprecedented. And what, exactly, do you mean to do with your so called freedom when you have no skills of your own?”

She could feel the words burst from Laura as she stepped forward, “Carm has lots of skills and I can’t believe that you’d-”

“Philosophy.” Carmilla stopped the rant before Laura punched someone, “I’m going to get my PhD in philosophy. You may recall, that was my minor and regardless of what you said at the time, I was good at it. Really good.”

From the corner of her eye, she registered Laura’s surprise falling into a smile.

“Oh darling,” her mother said, “You’ll never make any money that way. No power. No influence. What a colossal waste of time for something so useless that you’ll never even be...”

Her mother kept going and for a moment Carmilla felt the words sink under her sink and dig their way into her chest. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew the air out.

“I don’t care what you think.”

Her mother stopped. Shock written on her face, “What did you way?”

“I don’t care what you think,” Carmilla repeated, taking a step forward, “I’ve spent my whole life trying to please you and make you happy and it never worked so I don’t care what you think anymore. I don’t need your opinion or your praise. You gave it after I won and it did me no good.” She waved her free hand, “I don’t care anymore, mother. We’re done.”

It took a moment for her mother to unfreeze before the breezy tone that Carmilla hated returned, “Oh please darling, if you really didn’t care then why you be here?”

“Aside from telling you that we’re done face to face?” Carmilla let the smallest smirk out, “I’m here to open the front door.”

It was amazing to see her mother baffled, “What?”

Laura took over, the evilest grin Carmilla had ever seen her make on her face, “Oh well, see when I was doing my digging into your little illegal rigging scheme I noticed that, weirdly, Carmilla’s legal address was here instead of her apartment. She’d mentioned that it was for the ‘optics of being one happy family’ and I’d brushed it off. Except it means something else now.” Laura took a small step forward, still holding Carmilla’s hand, “It means that she can let the police into her own home, if she so chooses, without a warrant.”

Her mother went pale and it was the second most beautiful thing Carmilla had seen.

“So,” she slung her arm around Laura’s waist, “To sum it up. Hello mother. I quit. The police are here. I’ll see you in court. Never contact me again. We’re done. I’m done with you. Goodbye.”

She walked out of the office as Laura called over their shoulder, “Have an awful day!”

The police were walking into the foyer as they walked out, several of them taking orders from a barking Captain as a paper with Carmilla’s signature on it shone in his hand. As they passed Laura reached up, giving one of the cops a high five. when they cleared the front door, it felt like everything that had been swirling in her stomach settled. Like the weight on her shoulders had dropped off in the doorway and the stress at the back of her skull dissipated.

Laura tugged free of her hand at the end of the driveway to grab both her forearms, “So, what do you want to do now?”

“Well,” Carmilla said, “I’m suddenly unemployed. So I was thinking that I might go take a nap.”

“Might get a little cold all alone though.” There was a smile in Laura’s voice, “You know, I just sold a pretty big story so I have some discretionary funds. I’ve been looking to hire someone to fill the position of human space heater and nap snuggler

“Is that so?” Carmilla took a step closer, only their breath visible in the cold between them as Laura’s hands slid up to find her scarf, “I don’t suppose I could put in an application?”

“You’d have to get real close to make sure it’s maximum warm,” Laura said, “High demand job. Need to be on hand 24/7 just in case you’re needed.”

Carmilla smiled, “Sounds pretty inconvenient. Luckily,” Carmilla took the final step closer, “I’ve never been a huge fan of convenient positions.”

Laura laughed and kissed her.

Chapter Text

The air smelled like spring as Carmilla handed her old apartment key to the real estate agent. With a handshake and her best wishes to the new occupants, she made her way through the foyer, a slight spring in her steps as blue skies and bright sunlight flashed over her face the moment she cleared the door. The Ottawa air was still crisp with the end of winter only a few weeks past, a nice counterpoint to the warmer Toronto air she’d come to love over the past few months.

That said, even her love for a new start in a new city couldn’t compare to her love for the girl waiting for her. Carmilla stopped on the sidewalk, letting her smile creep over her lips as she tied the yellow scarf around her neck a little bit tighter. Laura sat on a wooden bench across the street, waiting as she flipped through a newspaper pronouncing the results of the 3 most recent by-elections.

Including Ottawa’s latest results after the dramatic ending to it’s previous attempt.

Carmilla wished the new MP the best but didn’t hesitate to swoop in, sliding onto the bench and into Laura’s side so that she could knock the newspaper askew.

No more politics for Carmilla Karnstein.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey yourself. I was reading that you attention hog.” Laura’s smile betrayed her rolling eyes even as she folded up the paper and gave Carmilla her attention, “Apartment dealt with?”

“Keys are gone and it’s not my problem,” Carmilla confirmed, “Which means that I’m now all your problem, cupcake. I had to put your apartment down as my permanent place of residence on my application forms for the philosophy PhD program. You’re stuck with me.”

“Actually,” Laura’s eyes sparkled, “It means that you’re stuck with me.”

“The horror.” Carmilla smiled as Laura shifted into her side, turning her face to meet Laura’s gaze.

“You’ve no idea.”

Carmilla shrugged, eyes fixed on Laura’s lips and moving a little bit closer, “I got a pretty good idea that time you turned our dorm room into a ‘Reporter Fort’. I know exactly what I’m in for.”

“I don’t think you do.” Laura’s eyes twinkled.

“I think,” Carmilla said in her cheekiest voice, “What I’m in for is that I’m about to get kissed by Laura Hollis in the next minute. And then again the next minute. And probably a few more times in there too.”

Laura moved in even closer, her breath warm on Carmilla’s lips, “An interesting hypothesis. Sounds a little presumptuous.”

“I’m willing to risk it.” Carmilla leaned in the rest of the way.

A rolled newspaper came up, booping a surprised Carmilla right on her nose as Laura pulled back laughing, scrambling to her feet between the puddles created from the last melting of snow. “Too bad I’m not that predictable!”

Carmilla lunged after her, “Oh no you don’t Hollis.” Her arms caught a still giggling Laura around the waist, hauling her back to the bench. Laura barely put up even a fake fight, her cheeks were red in the spring air. Eyes sparkling.

“Your face,” Laura giggled, “I totally got you.”

Carmilla fought down her own smile at the feeling of Laura giggling against her, something freeing and light and beautiful. Instead, she gave off fond annoyance, “Yes. Fine.” Carmilla said, “You got me. You’re still surprising. Which somehow, isn’t surprising at all. Can’t believe you booped my nose.”

“Revenge is fairplay,” Laura said, “Although, that doesn’t mean your hypothesis was wrong.”

“My hypt-”

Laura kissed her with a giggle on her lips and a smile in her heart. It was familiar and sunshine and easy and without an ounce of fear or worry in it. This was their normal. Their center. Their place to come back to when everything was stress. Moving to Toronto. Getting her grad school application in. Dealing with her mother’s court case. The press during the follow-up byelection. Laura joking that one day maybe she’d run for government instead of Carmilla.

Laura kissed her and Carmilla was content.

Nothing fake. Nothing questioned.

Just them.

Carmilla hummed as Laura pulled away, their fingers tangling together even as Carmilla stole a second quick peck. Laura allowed the kiss then swatted her away when Laura’s phone vibrated softly, “Okay ladykiller,” Laura said, “Calm down for five minutes. That might be my boss. Some of us need to keep the boss happy to pay for things like our apartment and our food.”

The little emphasis Laura put on the ‘our’s sent Carmilla’s chest fluttering.

“Speaking of food,” Carmilla said as Laura pulled out her phone, “I was thinking that little Chinese take-out place you like? We could go for lunch. My treat.”

“Can I have extra fried rice?” Laura asked even as she stared down at her phone, nose crinkling.

“I think my new student budget can afford it.” Carmilla waited but there was no further response, just Laura staring down at her phone as her face contorted into a hundred strange expressions. Carmilla leaned against her shoulder, “What happened? Betty find a new giant cookie place?”

Laura tilted the screen. Her calendar was open. An event reminder flashing.

36 HOURS TIL ‘MARRY CARMILLA’.

Carmilla’s heart skipped a beat even as the phone shook slightly in Laura’s hand before she brought it down to her lap. Even so, Carmilla could see those words like they were ingrained in her soul.

MARRY CARMILLA.

There was tension in Laura’s voice as she forced a laugh, “Guess I forgot to delete it.” Her thumb hovered over the X button and something thrashed in Carmilla’s chest. She reached out, plucking the phone from Laura’s loose grasp.

MARRY CARMILLA.

“That was supposed to be tomorrow?” She could hear her own voice echoing in her ears, it sounded like her pulse had skyrocketed to a vast drumbeat in her head, “I didn’t realize we’d picked a date.”

“Mattie asked what I wanted and I just picked one.” Laura shrugged and crossed her arms, “No big deal.”

Something about the date was niggling at the back of Carmilla’s head, a memory mentioned but tucked away. The way Laura was hunched into herself, arms crossed. Head down. With the phone in one hand, she let the other creep back into Laura fingers. Fighting for only a second to wiggle in before Laura dropped the crossed arms with a huff and let her link them.

“No big deal, eh? Seems like it.”

Laura loosened the rest of the way, her forehead plopping down on Carmilla’s shoulder, “You’re going to think it’s silly.”

“Tell me anyway.”

And Laura stole her breath, “It’s my parent’s anniversary.”

“Laura.” Carmilla said, a hundred words wrapped in a name and the squeeze of her fingers.

“It’s silly and sappy and Mattie was probably just going to take it for a PR thing but my parents were always so happy together and in love while Mom was alive and I just thought that it would be a good day for us. That we could be just as in love and happy as they were.” Laura played with the edges of her fingers and even in the cold, Carmilla’s hand was warm. “I know that it was all fake and just for a fake wedding but I still wanted fake us to have that happiness. To give them the best chance possible on the best day I could think of. Even if it was for something fake.”

“It wasn’t fake.” Carmilla said. Laura’s head came off her shoulder, eyes locking together as Carmilla shrugged in a way that felt vulnerable and soft and in love. “It wasn’t fake,” she repeated, “Not us. Not you and me. None of that was ever really fake. I dated you because I wanted to. I didn’t want anyone else, I wanted you. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because you were beautiful or because I was happy or a hundred other times that all boil down to because I wanted to. Even way back when this all started,” the words fell out, “I asked you to marry me because I wanted to.”

“Carm.” Laura was looking at her like a deer in the headlights, all wide eyes and a tight grip on her hand. Laura’s free hand came up, grasping lightly at the necklace hidden under the heavy sweater poking through the open zipper of her coat. “Carm, did you mean that?”

Carmilla swallowed something heavy and full, putting down the phone to capture Laura’s hand in both of her own. She looked down at them, afraid to drown in Laura’s brown eyes, “You asked me once,” she said, “what I wanted. You told me that I needed to know. And I thought about it and I told you that I wanted to be rid of my mother. To go back to school. To find my freedom and my life.” Carmilla looked up at the building across the street, the apartment she’d sold. “But underneath all of that, at the heart of it. Well,” she laughed a little and looked back down at their hands, and softly tapped Laura’s ring finger where her ring had once sat, “what I really wanted was you. Always was you.”

She didn’t get a chance to look up, didn’t get a chance to read Laura’s body language. Laura was there. Solid and firm as she came up underneath Carmilla’s bowed head and pressed a kiss to Carmilla’s lips. Real and present until she was surrounded by the smell of vanilla and the feel of Laura. Her lips pressed close. Her nose a gentle brush on Carmilla’s own. Her fingers tangled under the scarf and in the baby hairs at Carmilla’s nape even as her other hand tangled tighter in Carmilla’s own.

The kiss broke and Carmilla’s eyes stayed closed as they sat, just as close. The feeling of Laura everywhere. One breath. Two.

“Stay right here. Ten minutes. Please,” Laura’s words were a kiss and a breath and suddenly gone.

Carmilla’s eyes fluttered open to see Laura’s back as Laura practically thundered down the street and skidded around the corner.

She blinked once. Twice.

Carmilla leaned back against the bench and waited, watching the phone’s clock.

Nine and a half minutes later, Laura skidded back around the corner. In one hand she had a single rose. In the other she had a very familiar bakery bag and a single grocery bag.

Carmilla’s heart went straight into her throat as Laura jogged the last few meters between them and stopped to catch her breath, holding up a single finger in a request for silence for the final fifteen seconds of her requested time. She was breathing hard, face even redder from the run.

But all Carmilla could see were the items in her hands. The rose. The bakery bag that was made to fit a single croissant. She knew those items; she’d held those items.

She’d thrown away those items on a hopeless morning after one of the best nights of her life.

So Carmilla couldn’t say anything as Laura pulled herself up and removed the wrapping to reveal the croissant underneath, plain where Carmilla had once purchased chocolate. Then Laura dug into the grocery bag and pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup. She glanced up just as Carmilla frowned. “They didn’t have chocolate croissants,” Laura said, “so I’m improvising.”

So Carmilla couldn’t say anything as Laura squirted a whole bunch of chocolate all over her hand and the croissant.

It looked disgusting.

But then Laura dropped to one knee and the words Carmilla might have been able to find at the sight of the chocolate monstrosity vanished all over again. All she could see was Laura Hollis on her knee in the melted snow water as cars drove on the street past them and Carmilla’s once-apartment bore witness. All she could see was Laura Hollis with a soft smile on her face and nervousness in her eyes and determination in her brow.

“Carm,” she said, “You’re my best friend and you know me better than anyone so you’ll know that I didn’t plan this and I’m going to ramble my way through it like I always do because I don’t have an editor or a filter and didn’t get to spend days practicing until my pacing wore a hole in the floor. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s a good thing because I think that if I practiced for a hundred years and wore the floor clean away I still wouldn’t be able to tell you what you mean to me. I wouldn’t be able to capture the light of every guiding star that I feel when you’re with me, the constellations I want to draw across your skin, or the steady presence of your constant soft glow that keeps me warm when the sun goes away.”

Carmilla’s throat was tight in her chest and kept her eyes locked on Laura’s.

“Because sometimes the sun does away,” Laura said, “and we make mistakes and sometimes we take the long way to get there.” Roses and chocolate croissants. “But I don’t have to worry because you and I? We always get there. We go from strangers to roommates. Roommates to enemies. Enemies to best friends. Best friends to fake dating.” Laura’s voice shook with emotion, “Fake dating to this. To everything. I don’t have a thousand words or a hundred years of practice but maybe I don’t need them because what they’d all try to say is that I love you.”

There were tears in Carmilla’s eyes.

“I love you, Carm. And I hope that’s enough because that’s all I have. That’s everything. Just me and a lot of love trying our hardest to give you everything you’ve ever wanted and trusting that you and I will get there eventually. I can’t imagine a life where I don’t love you. So, Carmilla, if it’s what you want,” Laura reached for her neck and pulled her necklace off. The long chain came cleanly, came easily, like it wanted to come off. At the end of it were looped two rings. One Carmilla immediately recognized as the ring she’d given Laura on the top of a cupcake.

The other was older. Classic. Diamond in a golden band as it sat in the center of Laura’s palm.

The other hand sticky with a chocolate croissant.

“This was my mom’s ring,” Laura said, “Dad gave it to me when we announced our first engagement.” She said ‘first’ like it was made of the world’s most fragile hope, her hand trembling. Carmilla couldn’t stop herself. She reached out, gently cupping Laura’s hand in her own until the trembles stopped. Her other hand brushed softly down Laura’s cheek to run a thumb under her eyes, sweeping up Laura’s barely dropped tears while ignoring the wetness on her own face.

Laura turned into her hand, closing her eyes against it and breathing deep. Then she looked up again and the fear was gone. Only determination and love in her face, “I’ve been carrying this ring around since Dad gave it to me because you’re right. This was never fake. This was real. Carmilla Karnstein, will you marry me?”

There had only ever been one answer. One thing she wanted.

“Yes.”

Laura laughed as Carmilla reached down and tugged her out of the wet street, took her hand and pulled her up and off the street into the park just behind them, hiding in the shadow of the trees with the tiniest buds on their branches. She kissed Laura as Laura slid the ring onto her finger, kept kissing her as she stole the second ring from Laura’s chain and slid it back on Laura’s finger where it belonged.

Kissed her as Laura slid the rose into Carmilla’s jacket button hole.

Then Laura kissed her as Carmilla said, “Just to clarify that we’re on the same wavelength here, you totally want to get married tomorrow at the original time and place, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Mattie’s going to kill us.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Laura said, kissing her again.

Then she stepped back and leaned against the tree, all kissed lips and smiles, “So, and keep in mind that you had way more planning time than I did, how’d I do on the whole proposal thing?”

Carmilla shrugged and leaned in, bracketing Laura with her arms and glancing down at sticky fingers, “I could have done with just a plain croissant.”

“I was being poetic!” Laura protested.

“Just my luck,” Carmilla drawled, “A poetic fiance.”

Then she leaned in to kiss away all further protests.

#

Her left hand was caught in Laura’s, their fingers entwined together as the new ring glinted in the sunshine. Both rings on the fingers they belonged to and everytime Carmilla caught Laura’s gaze, she couldn’t help but smile. The only thing that could have possibly distracted her from the joy ringing in her chest was the completely unbelievable words coming from the cellphone that her other hand held between them.

“I’m sorry,” Laura was saying, her head shaking as though Mattie could see her, “I thought you just said that you never cancelled our wedding? The wedding that was fake. That we told you to cancel months ago. Because it was fake.”

Mattie’s voice slid out the phone, “Gidget, I make it my job to know these things. This wedding was always going to happen.”

“Um no. No it wasn’t,” Laura said, “Because Carm and I were faking it the whole time?”

“Except you weren’t faking it.” Mattie said.

“Well, no.” Laura said, “you’re right. But no-one was supposed to know that! You weren’t supposed to know that. It was just us and our repressed feelings and bad communication and nobody was supposed to know that we were actually in love.”

Mattie laughed for the first time Laura could ever remember, “I regret to inform you that the only reason your entire charade worked was because everyone knew you were in love. The only people you were fooling were yourselves. Throw in the whole nauseating choice of your parents anniversary for the wedding date and I knew that the wedding would stay on.”

“And if it hadn’t?” Carmilla asked.

“Then I would have gotten the two of you out here on false pretenses and you would have gotten married regardless.”

“Mattie!” Carmilla said, “You can’t force marry us.”

“Give me a little credit darling,” Mattie said, “I’d never force you to get married. I’d only force you to confront your very obvious love for the small annoying one. Besides, I suppose that if the two of you actually had no interest in going through with the whole thing then I would simply have thrown an extravagant and most excellent party that happened to feature all of your closest friends and family.”

Laura’s nose was crinkled in that adorable way that meant she was trying to decide whether to be mad or not.

“Besides,” Mattie continued, “it all worked out in the end, did it not? You called me telling me that you want to get married and I get to tell you that the whole thing is already prepared. Win win, really. Now say, ‘thank you Matska’ and get over here.”

Laura’s nose was scrunched so tight it was coming close to a permanent crease.

“I’m waiting darlings.”

Carmilla looked at Laura, “She’s going to wait until we do it.”

“We could hang up,” Laura said.

“She’d call back.”

“I can hear you,” Mattie said, “and I’m not hearing that key little phrase.”

Carmilla sighed and let the sarcasm out, “Thank you Mattie, my dearest sweet sister.”

“And Hollis?” Mattie said.

Laura said nothing.

Carmilla nudged her.

“Fine. Thank you Mattie for keeping the wedding together that we told you to cancel.”

Mattie’s voice oozed sincerity and just a hint of laughter, “Always happy to help out my little sister and her new bride. It’s so nice to be deeply appreciated by family. That means you too now, Hollis.”

Laura’s mouth opened. Closed. Her face almost touched. Her mouth opened again but before she could get any words out, Mattie added, “Now I may have made a few changes to the wedding plans you gave me, just enhanced them. Made them better than before really. You’ll see when you get here. Ta ta!”

The phone went dark.

Laura’s face was red, “If she changed the colour of the flowers after making me spend weeks picking out arrangements I will actually kill your sister!”

Carmilla just shrugged, lifted her hand, and kissed her fingers, “For better or worse right? I know a few of my mother’s yet-to-be-seized properties that would make a great place to hide a body.”

Laura laughed.

#

The afternoon was a whirlwind. Mattie had a glint in her eye as she whisked them away, Perry following behind them with a clipboard and a headset as she directed the seemingly endless flow of florists and caterers and other assorted wedding staff. Carmilla eyed the logo of the cake van nearby, trying to remember if they’d ever actually picked a favourite flavour or if Laura had just eaten everything. A group of people appeared to be wrestling a large tent out of a different truck. A floral arrangement was brought by for Mattie’s approval, the vase full of yellow blooms with the occasional deep red flower run through it.

“Thoughts, Hollis?” Mattie asked, her smile calculating, “I can have the changes removed if you don’t like them. I know they’re different from the ones you settled on, just a few minor tweaks. I thought the red might nicely offset the yellow.”

Laura’s mumbled something.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you.” Mattie said.

“These are fine.”

“Just fine?” Mattie’s grin was evil and it made something in Carmilla’s chest grow.

Laura threw her hands in the air, “Better than fine. Yes, Matska. These bouquets look lovely.”

“I am always right.”

“I never said that!” Laura objected.

Carmilla’s heart felt full as she watched them bicker, her hand reaching out automatically to tangle in Laura’s fingers.

They were getting married.

But first they were whisked off to a pre-wedding reception that Perry had organized at one of their favourite restaurants. Everyone was waiting for them, having been pre-emptively flown in by Mattie. Laf and Kirsch. Will. Betty. Laura’s father. An assortment of old and new friends and colleagues. Carmilla even caught a glimpse of Danny in the crowd as they moved through the room and was able to muster up a relatively congenial smile.

Carmilla had gotten the girl after all. She could afford to be generous.

She hadn’t known that pre-wedding speeches were even a thing but that didn’t stop Laura’s dad from giving one, crying halfway through as he promised not to cry at the actual wedding and talked about how happy Laura’s mom would have been. Which made Laura cry. Which made Carmilla cry.

The rest of the rest of the night passed in a blur and too soon Carmilla was being forced into a hotel room separate from Laura as Perry chirped about “tradition”. She still found her way to Laura’s room eventually. Kissing her senseless until the only thing they both wore were their rings.

They were woken by an angry shriek from Perry and re-hustled their separate ways. But before they could completely separate, Laura stopped and took her by the hand, “This is what you want?” she asked.

“With all my heart.” There was no hesitation in Carmilla’s voice.

The biggest smile cracked over Laura’s face, “We’re getting married today.”

“Better kiss my fiance one last time,” Carmilla said.

Laura nodded, face fake serious, “After this there’s no variety in names. No friend or girlfriend or fiance. Just wife from here on out.”

Carmilla kissed her, “I can think of nothing I’d like more.”

“I can think of one more thing,” Laura said. Then she kissed Carmilla again. And again. “Now go before I think up a third.”

It wasn’t much of a threat but Carmilla let herself be dragged away by Mattie as Perry descended on Laura. They passed Laf in the hallway.

“Sneak into Hollis’s room?” They asked.

Carmilla noded.

“Nice.” They raised their hand for a highfive.

Before Carmilla could consider responding, Will appeared and slapped it for her. Laf laughed and kept going, slipping into Laura’s room to suit up as her best person.

“I,” Will announced as he trailed them to Carmilla’s room, “was out partying with Kirsch last night and I have lost my suit.”

Something in Carmilla’s chest dropped for the first time since Laura had proposed and it had nothing to do with Will losing his suit.

And everything to do with her own. The suit she’d chosen.

That mother had made her choose.

“It’s in your hotel room closet.” Mattie said, “I had it dry-cleaned.”

“Really?” Will brightened, “Wicked. While I could totally pull off bestman duties in jeans it doesn’t quite have the same gravitas.”

“You owe me the double surcharge for the 2am cleaning.” Mattie herded both her siblings into Carmilla’s unused hotel room.

Carmilla turned as she entered, looking back at Mattie, “Actually, about my suit-”

“Suit?” Mattie cut her off, “Oh please. Give me a little more credit than that.”

Carmilla turned to find her wedding outfit hanging in the center of the room. All soft white tones and silk and lace that trailed delicately down to the floor. A wedding dress. The wedding dress. The wedding dress that Laura had given her after all the silly dresses because she thought Carmilla might like it. The one that had made Carmilla’s breath catch and made her believe Laura might be possible. She reached out, gently running her fingers over the soft silk and tracing the pattern of the lace.

She turned, voice lost, “Mattie, how did you-?”

Her sister smiled and it was so soft Carmilla almost lost her composure, “I told you. I was paying attention and I wanted my little sister to have her perfect wedding to the girl she loved. That includes, the perfect dress.”

Carmilla’s hug was fierce and tight. Mattie didn’t hesitate before hugging her back. Seconds later, Will was there. Arms wrapping around them both, “Yeah kitty, we’re going to get you married in style. Best day ever.”

Best day ever.

#

It took a few quick stitches, most of the day, and an entire team of dressmakers, hair stylists, and make-up artists but eventually Carmilla found herself completely dressed and ready for her wedding. Mattie had outdone herself and any small alterations Carmilla suggested were done quickly and efficiently.

Carmilla hadn’t actually seen the site they’d chosen for ceremony since the winter, all frozen willow trees and snow, but as she glanced out the window of the small waiting tent she could still a cloudless sky full of stars waiting for her, the light of the moon shining down just like she’d always imagined and coating the new spring grass in soft silver light. She stepped closer to the window and the skirt swirled around her ankles like it was moonlight itself, the shadows of the night dotting her skin like the lace that swam across her collarbones. Her dark hair was softly pulled up and pinned in place while a few strategic curls were allowed to roam free. Small yellow flowers made the final touch, matching the yellow and red bouquet in her hand.

“You look like one of those moon goddesses you’re always talking about,” Will cut through the night, “All broody and ethereal. But I guess that’s the vibe with the night wedding and all?”

She couldn’t entirely disagree, only the shining golden band on her finger suggesting any other colour scheme. Carmilla just rolled her eyes and turned to him, adjusting the flower tucked into the lapel of his dark suit, “You’re ridiculous.”

He just wiggled his eyebrows, “My sister is getting married. I’m allowed to be ridiculous. Wait until you hear my speech.”

“You’re assuming that I’ll let you give a speech.”

“Mattie’s officiating,” Will faked injury, “and you won’t even let me give a speech?”

Carmilla blinked, “Mattie is officiating?” She hadn’t thought to ask.

“She didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

That sounded about right.

Perry slid through the flap of the tent, headset still on but switched into formal attire, “How are we doing in here? Carmilla,” she stopped, “you just look lovely.”

“Thanks,” Carmilla brushed the compliment off, “how’s Laura?”

“Ready to go.” Perry said and Carmilla’s stomach flipped, “Everyone’s here and settled so as soon as you’re ready, we can start. Laf then Laura with her father. Then yourself and Will. So long as you’re ready?”

“I’m ready.”

After all the choices that she had struggled to make, all the searching about what she wanted, this was easy. This was honest. This was everything she wanted.

“Okay, great!” Perry checked her clipboard again, “Laura’s in the other small tent. I’ll send her in and then cue you. You should be able to tell from the music but I’ll grab you as well.” Perry pointed to the small speaker playing soft music from the small group of live musicians Carmilla had seen setting up. Perry went to duck out but then stopped. She turned back, “Carmilla, I’m very glad that this all worked out for the two of you.”

She smiled again and was gone, leaving Carmilla and Will to wait. Her hands shook as the music changed and she clenched the bouquet a little bit tighter. Laura. That meant Laura was walking the aisle. The aisle at their wedding.

Their wedding.

An eternity and a moment later, Perry stepped back inside and held open the flap, “Okay, here we go!”

Will held out his arm, Carmilla rolled her eyes and took it. The action was a feeble attempt to cover the butterflies that had erupted to life in her stomach.

She was marrying Laura Hollis.

As she stepped from the small waiting tent, the soft breeze hit her first. Cool with the last goodbyes of winter, it carried the scent of fresh rain and sprouting flowers. It swirled by just enough to make its presence felt before carrying on into the night sky, dancing between guests and willow branches to meet the stars. Carmilla followed it, stepping farther.

And she saw it all.

Mattie had outdone herself, the party a shimmering moment of possibility.

A wooden floor had been laid over the grass of the park, above it, a tent had been built but the ceiling was open as the draping fabric pulled back to let the stars shine down. The small crowd of people, nothing like the mass of invitations her mother had sent, was standing in attendance. Every face familiar and every face smiling. Those that were not lit by the stars were glowing in the seemingly endless strands of small soft silver lights that were twined around the base of chairs, hidden beneath white fabrics, and trailing upwards into more bouquets of red and yellow flowers. A night sky above and below. Beyond the tent, Carmilla could see the towering outline of the willow trees. Iced over no more, they were in the first buds of spring. Mattie’s lights wound up into their swaying branches, creating shooting stars with every brush of breeze along the hanging branches.

Carmilla started walking, leaving the grass for the wood as she let Will help her up the step. The soft quintet of strings changed their song to something light and full all at once. Carmilla looked up from the step, letting her skirts fall back around her, and froze mid-step. Only a nudge from Will kept her moving. Kept her from freezing.

Laura was waiting at the end of the aisle.

Carmilla took another step. Then another.

Laura’s hair was down, curled into soft spirals that framed her face and cascaded over her shoulders while a few pins, glinting golden in the starlight, held some pieces up and back. Carmilla’s hand ached to touch, to pull each pin out one by one and run her hands through the waves. Laura’s fingers were tight around the flowers, a bouquet to match the one in Carmilla’s own shaking hands, Carmilla’s gaze traced upwards. Laura was in a suit. She followed the crisp lines of Laura’s suit jacket, the same soft shade of white fabric that Carmilla wore; the jacket was open and long. The collar of the dress shirt underneath was free of any tie or bowtie, top button open before the shirt disappeared under the fitted vest. Three small flowers in her boutonniere. Heels poking out from the bottom of her pants. Laura had always wanted to get married in her mother’s wedding dress. Had mourned that she never would and rejected every dress in its place. Had never been happy with her dress choices.

Now Laura was wearing a suit and smiling.

Their eyes met and Carmilla’s small smile could only grow bigger as Laura’s mouth opened involuntarily, a soundless laugh slipping out. Like there was so much joy in her chest that it couldn’t be contained, pouring out like the beams of sunlight that lit the moon above them even from a world away. Carmilla was breathless, mindless of the crowd watching them.

There was only Laura and the night sky above her and the breeze that made the lights of the willow trees dance.

Dance like they’d only dreamed in the snow and the cold and a fake engagement.

Laura didn’t wait; she stepped back towards the aisle with her hand out. Eyes never leaving Carmilla’s. Carmilla gave Will’s arm a squeeze and let go, taking Laura’s hand. The touch was soft, the grasp easy, and every single butterfly in Carmilla’s stomach died at the contact. There was nothing to be nervous about here. Her smile only got bigger when, in the corner of her eye, she saw the wonder woman cufflinks glinting.

Carmilla found her voice, “Hey cupcake.”

“So,” Laura squeezed her hand and grinned, “We’re getting married today.”

Carmilla couldn’t hold it in anymore, a laugh bubbling over, “I heard.”

Laura continued to grin at her, pulling them both towards Mattie who was waiting at the front in an impeccable black dress. She frowned at the giggling pair but, even as Carmilla tried to smother the laugh, a smile twitched at Mattie’s mouth. The crowd sat and words were said but Carmilla didn’t care about them. The venue was gorgeous and the words were lovely and none of that mattered because she was marrying Laura Hollis and every time she glanced over, she found Laura sneaking a glance back at her. Hands still locked together.

It was like a dream. Laura in a white suit with nothing but dark sky and stars behind her, lighting her in the softest golden glow.

Eventually Will handed her a ring, a simple silver band as Mattie turned to the vows.

Carmilla took a deep breath, she hadn’t practiced. No notes or cue cards. But she didn’t need them. Not for this. “I, Carmilla Karnstein, take thee, Laura Hollis, to be my lawful wedded wife. My partner and best friend. From this day forward. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in investigative journalist mode and otherwise, for richer or poorer, in starlit nights and sunshine days.” Laura’s eyes were shining with tears as Carmilla touched the ring to the tip of her finger, “To stay by your side as you stay by mine, no matter the obstacle that would come between us. I have been in love with no-one and never shall unless it should be with you. For as long as we both shall live.”

Carmilla slid the ring down until it tapped lightly against the engagement ring that Carmilla had given her on a cupcake. Her hands were steady, sure, even as the breath caught in her chest and her entire heart seized from feeling too much as she looked down at the two rings together.

Then she felt the touch of metal to the top of her own ring finger and her gaze leapt up to find Laura’s watery eyes. They were shining with the light of a thousand constellations, “I, Laura Hollis, take thee, Carmilla Karnstein, to be my lawful wedded wife. My best friend, partner in crime, and best-worst roommate. From this day forward. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, through computer screens when we have to and in person every other moment.” Carmilla swallowed past the lump in her throat, gaze locked on Laura’s, “To wake up to your bedhead every morning and hold in my arms each night. For when you’re being the worst roommate and I wanna strangle you but also when we have kisses and cocoa and stars and dancing. For every nothing that means everything. I love you. For as long as we both shall live.”

Carmilla felt the ring slid down her finger even as everything in her chest burst outward, that one silly smile that she couldn’t not smile around Laura coming out as her eyes got watery. She tried to pretend it wasn’t happening but Laura just reached up and gently held her face, thumb brushing away the tears before they fell. The stars shone down overheld, recording the truth for all time as the willow tree swayed in the breeze that ruffled her hair and then zipped off for a new adventure over the lake beyond. Her hand found Laura’s waist automatically, slipping under the jacket to feel the silk of her shirt.

“I now pronounce you wife and wife,” Mattie said.“You may kiss the bride.”

Carmilla kissed Laura and Laura kissed her as they moved together. Soft and familiar and yet somehow made new and fresh like a breath of spring after a long winter. The same each year but unique all the same. Carmilla leaned in, chasing Laura for a second kiss. Letting the softness of her skin linger on her lips until she could feel Laura’s smile like a warmth to her soul. Then Laura pulled back just enough that Carmilla could see a warning sparkle in her eye.

“Laura, what are-”

Laura grabbed her and swung her around, dipping Carmilla all the way back and giving her a big silly kiss. Then Laura pulled back and threw a fist in the air, “WHOOOOOOOO.”

Someone hollered back from the already applauding and cheering audience. She suspected Kirsch.

Carmilla rolled her eyes as she righted herself, leaning against Laura and trying to flatten her smile, “Really?”

“Oh you’re stuck with me now. And I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Lucky me.” It was sarcastic and sentimental all in the same breath.

“You love me.” Laura said it and then stopped, grin growing, “You love me, dearest wife.”

“I do.”

“I do too.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “You do too what?”

“Well, I’m realizing that we did the vows but not the I do’s?” Laura’s nose scrunched, her hands started pinwheeling, and Carmilla wanted to laugh for joy all over again, “Like isn’t that usually part of the script? I don’t want to say that Mattie messed up because she’d kill me but I’m pretty sure that I do’s are a whole big thing that you need to do. Or maybe they’re just traditional and not technical? But it was just kinda nice to hear you say it. So I heard you say it and I wanted to say it now. So you could hear it. Thus, I do too Carmilla Karnstein.”

Carmilla knew she was going to look like a fool in all the wedding photos and she didn’t care, “I do too, Laura Hollis.”

This time she pulled Laura in by the suit lapels and kissed her.

“If I could interrupt,” Mattie cut in with a smile, “and finish this whole piece?”

“Oh.” Laura stepped back, “Yes. Of course.”

Mattie looked at Carmilla, “If you could hold off on the kissing for one second.”

Carmilla smirked, “Better move fast.”

Mattie raised her hands for quiet and in the time it took for Will and Kirsch’s cheer-off to stop, her hands had found Laura’s again. Both of them with rings that glinted in the starlight. One silver and one gold, one old and one new. A matching set all the same.

“It is my pleasure,” Mattie said, “to present to you all, for the first time, Mrs and Mrs Hollis-Karnstein. Congratulations.”

Carmilla couldn’t help but kiss her wife one more time.

And another.

And another.

For as long as they both should live.