Work Text:
There is a knock on the door to the morning room. Danny is standing in the doorway, she hasn’t bothered to wait for a reply.
“You wanted to speak to me, Madam?”
“Yes.” Rebecca, hunched over her desk until this moment, sits up straight. “I want your thoughts on the menu for this weekend.”
Danny raises an eyebrow — this could have been discussed over the house telephone — but swiftly crosses the room to stand behind Rebecca’s chair. Rebecca’s hand is resting on the menu, preventing Danny from picking it up. She bends down, painfully aware of how close she is to Rebecca; how, if she shifted ever so slightly to the left, their heads would touch. Danny can smell her perfume, that heady mixture of azaleas and something else, something entirely unique to Rebecca. She skims the menu.
“It looks perfect to me, Madam.”
“Hm.” Rebecca purses her lips. “Hadn’t we better go with white sauce for the cod? Yes, I think that is it. And have them add a sprinkling of dill before serving.”
“Of course, Madam.”
“Note this down, for me, will you?” Rebecca hands her the pen, her other hand still resting on the menu. Danny bends down further, crossing out Rebecca’s first choice of sauce and adding the new one. Before she can withdraw, Rebecca’s hand is on her wrist, her grip gentle, but insistent. Danny freezes. Rebecca unfurls her fingers and takes away the pen, putting it to one side.
With a deep sigh, Rebecca leans back, resting her head against Danny’s chest. Their heads really are touching now, with Danny’s cheek against her mistress’s temple. Rebecca says nothing, only takes Danny’s hand and places it just above her heart, her own hand resting on top of it. In a moment of recklessness, Danny lifts up her free arm and drapes it around Rebecca’s shoulder. Rebecca gives a little laugh and sinks deeper into her touch. Danny’s breathing is a little too fast, a little too shallow for this to feel commonplace; Rebecca’s is as calm as always.
The two women share this moment in silence, their bodies still as statues. They would make a beautiful ornament, Danny thinks. Beautiful enough to replace the china Cupid Rebecca loves so much. Her hand twitches beneath Rebecca’s palm, slipping on the silky fabric of her blouse. Rebecca laughs again. She turns her head and lifts her chin, brushing her lips against Danny’s.
“That will be all.”
“Of course, Madam.” Danny straightens at once. “Of course.”