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Tina is passed out on Bagi's couch again. Yesterday, it was the floor, but apparently that made Bagi feel bad. Now she has a couch. It's nice. Comfortable! Tina's house smells like roast chicken. And dirt. And tea. Bagi's house smells a little like dirt, too, honestly. But mostly like Bagi. Tina's awake now, in Bagi's house, and it's stupid early. Or stupid late. She isn’t going to check her communicator about it—whatever time it shows will just be depressing.
Faintly, Tina hears rustling, like the sound is from a few rooms away. Portuguese muttering reveals the culprit. Of course Bagi would be awake at ass-o'clock too, that girl doesn't rest.
Tina weighs her options. She could go to sleep, or she could say hello. Knowing Bagi, she might have gone for hours without human interaction, with Empanada fast asleep. She's probably pacing around the house decorating and... mystery solving, or whatever. She's probably feral now, honestly. Huddled over dead people photos, or something. That's what ass-o'clock activity all by yourself does to a girl.
Tina hauls herself out of bed, and shuffles to where she heard Bagi last. Bagi is leaning over her storage system, still muttering. God knows what she was actually doing right now.
“Hey Bagi,” Tina softly greets.
Bagi shouts, and nearly jumps a foot in the air.
“Que susto—My god! Sorry! Sorry, what a scare, Tina,” Bagi manages to say.
Through giggles, Tina shakes her head. “No, that’s my bad, I kind of snuck up on you there.”
After Bagi recovers from her small heart attack, and Tina gets over her giggles, Tina abruptly realizes the state she’s in. Bagi is staring at her, like she usually does, because Bagi doesn't just look at people like a normal person, she has to stare. She probably hasn't slept in like, 24 hours, but she still looks pretty. It makes Tina’s heart squeeze and she wants—no, needs to like, carry Bagi away and sequester her away where nobody else can see her like this. No, that’s stupid. And way too possessive.
In comparison, Tina's clothes are rumpled from sleeping. She hadn't changed into pajamas. Her hair is sticking in every direction—Jesus Christ, her hair. She self-consciously brushes strands of her hair to cover her horns, hoping it looked casual. Then she keeps running her hands through her hair, nervously. Tina needs to break the silence, now.
“So, what are you doing right now, at this hour?”
God, she sounded so awkward.
“Just organizing!” Bagi smiles at her. “But Tina, what are you doing up so late?” Bagi asks, with a put-on accusatory tone.
Oh, okay. So it is late. Tina laughs, “Oh, you know. I'm just on Tina-time! I’ve slept all day, and there’s cleaning to do, decorating to do…”
Bagi's still smiling, as if Tina was saying the funniest things in the world. Tina runs her hands through her hair again.
“Hey,” Bagi interrupts her just as she was starting to shift from foot to foot, “Is your hair bothering you? I have a hair band, if you want.”
“Oh, no—it's fine,” Tina shakes her head.
“Are you sure? Because it’s really no problem—”
“It’s just tangled, and messy, and whatever. You know how it is.”
Tina can’t suppress a nervous little laugh. Her hands move from her hair, to burying themselves under her sleeves. Her horns itch. Bagi lifts her hand, as if to reach out to tuck her hair behind her ear, or something. She drops her hand back to her side, instead. Tina feels a pang of relief and longing at once. Bagi’s next words break through Tina’s contemplation.
“Do you want me to brush your hair for you—I mean, can I brush your hair for you?”
Bagi smiles at her. Her smile tugs at one corner of her mouth more than the other, and god, Tina's stupid heart does twenty triple backflips in her chest. Her brain yells at her about just how bad this idea is, but before she gets the chance to think about it, she blurts, embarrassingly high pitched,
“Sure!”
Bagi looks at her like she just gave her a million dollars and a ticket out the island, and not like Tina had just given her permission to brush her hair. Awesome! Awesome.
Bagi moves with the energy only someone on basically no sleep can move with, Tina dragged along as she grabs a brush from the bathroom. Bagi looks back at Tina with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, and then grabs a spray bottle of water, too.
“Here—we can sit on the couch.”
Tina feels fully out of control of whatever she had started here, as she’s led to the living room. Tina throws the blankets she was using off the couch, and kicks them until they’re stuffed underneath the couch. That will be a problem for Later Tina to deal with.
Tina sits on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, and turns to one side to give Bagi room to work. Bagi sets down the spray bottle, and maneuvers herself into sitting sidesaddle on the couch, facing her back. Carefully, Bagi moves Tina’s hair from her face, and into a loose grip. Tina feels Bagi reaching for the spray bottle behind her, then she feels a cool spritz of water on the back of her hair. Tina scrunches up her face, and closes her eyes as a little bit of water mists over her face. She wiggles closer to Bagi, and leans backwards, so Bagi can get to the front of her hair better. Tina opens her eyes and immediately wishes she hadn't.
Tina's head is pressed up into Bagi’s stomach, in her lap, and Bagi is staring at her intently, like she’s important and precious and—Bagi runs the brush through her hair, and Tina closes her eyes. She does not think about running off, and eloping, and kissing under the moonlight, and sweeping Bagi away to go live in a tower, or something, in the middle of nowhere with Tina forever, with nobody else, and—whatever. It’s nice. Nobody had ever really brushed Tina's hair for her, as far as she remembers. The brush scratches at the back of her neck, and she shudders, leaning further into Bagi.
Bagi makes her way closer to the front of her hair, and Tina's heart jumps in her chest as the brush moves closer to her horns. She knows she can tell Bagi to put the brush down at any time, and she knows that Bagi will listen. Maybe that’s why she can’t bear to actually ask Bagi to stop.
The brush runs over her horns with an audible sound, like fingernails gently running across wood. It feels nice, satisfying, like scratching an itch she couldn't reach, or picking a scab, or something. Tina flinches anyway. Her eyes flutter open.
Bagi softly asks, “Does that hurt?”
Tina pretends that she’s just asking about brushing her hair in general. Nothing else.
With tense shoulders, Tina says, too loud, “No—!”
After a second, Tina falters. “It felt kind of nice, honestly.”
Bagi pauses. God, she looks so beautiful when she’s thinking about something. Tina wishes she knew what the hell she was thinking about, sometimes.
Bagi breaks through the pause. In an unbearably earnest tone, she says, “Your hair is really pretty,” and she goes right back to moving the brush through Tina’s hair.
Tina might be in heaven. Which is funny! Considering everything. Between running the brush through tangles in her hair, and occasionally misting water, Bagi is scratching the brush along her horns every so often. Tina fully collapses herself against Bagi, and tries to not think about anything at all. Her shoulders slowly drop back down. It feels so nice.
Tina is barely awake by the time Bagi has brushed through all of her hair. Bagi lightly taps her shoulder, and she jolts, then relaxes.
“Yeah?” Tina tilts her head up to an uncomfortable degree to see Bagi properly.
“I think I brushed everything—is it good? Did I miss anywhere?” Bagi looks down at her. It’s a silly angle. It makes Tina want to reach up and squeeze her face. It also makes Tina realize how tired Bagi looks.
Tina feels bad. How long has Bagi been awake, even? Forget hair, Bagi needs sleep.
“It looks great, Bagi! Really good!” Tina beams up at Bagi, silly angle and all. “But don’t you think you need, you know, to sleep? It’s, like, stupid late right now.”
That startles a laugh out of Bagi.
“Yeah, I will, but I liked doing this for you! It’s good spending time with you, Tina.”
Tina squints at her. “You promise?”
Bagi’s face goes all earnest, again. “I promise, Tina. I really like talking with—”
Tina giggles shrilly, and then covers her face with a hand. Absolutely not, she can’t deal with that kind of conversation right now.
“No, no—like, you promise to go to sleep?”
Bagi flushes a little. She’s cute.
“Sorry—I will, I just have some organizing to do, and then I can go to sleep.”
Tina squints again. Her lips pout. Still hugging her knees on the couch, she pivots her body around to face Bagi, scooting herself further into the couch. Bagi looks like she’s about to say something, but whatever she’s about to say is quickly interrupted when Tina grabs Bagi’s wrists, pulling her to collapse halfway into the couch. Bagi briefly flails around, off-balance, grabbing onto Tina’s knee and stabilizing herself on a couch pillow.
“You’re sleeping now, and that’s final.” Tina puts on her best stern voice.
Still awkwardly sprawled across the couch, barely laying down, really, Bagi starts laughing. Not the most encouraging reaction to Tina’s very best stern voice. Tina feels her ears warm. Well, she started this, so she has to finish it.
“I’m serious, Bagi! You need to be in tip-top shape for all your—detective work! Or whatever you do. And mothering our pancake baby!”
Tina pauses. She has one final card to play.
“For me?” Tina’s tone goes from comically stern, to pleading. She won’t break out the waterworks, though. That’s too far.
To Tina’s chagrin, Bagi is still hiccuping through giggles. She can’t help it. Tina giggles a little too. Seriously, who is she to talk? She’s awake at stupid hours, too. Eventually, Bagi nods.
“Okay, okay. I’ll sleep. Don’t worry.” Bagi rearranges herself on the couch to a more laying-down position, letting go of Tina’s knee. Tina misses the warmth of her hand. She knows it’s not the time for that. It’s time for Bagi to sleep.
Tina sits up straight, and stretches her legs that had been tucked into her chest, groaning. She shuffles her way off the couch, hauling the blankets back onto the couch for Bagi, until Bagi grabs her wrist.
“Wait! It’s like you said, it’s really late. You should sleep too, right?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess so,” Tina looks away, “but I’ve already slept. I think my sleep schedule might just be doomed.”
“It’s not too late to fix it!” Bagi can’t seem to suppress a little smile as she adds, “For me?”
Tina’s heart beats a little faster, despite herself. Damn. Right back at her.
“Well, I mean, my hair is all nice and brushed now, and I still don’t really have a proper home, so I should probably work on that—” Bagi is still staring at her, and Tina gives up. She’s not winning this one.
“Okay—! I’ll go to bed.”
There’s still a problem. Like she said, she doesn’t really have a proper home, or bed. Bagi is currently laying on the most proper bed Tina’s had in a while—but that’s okay! She can take the floor. She’s used to it. Bagi seems to notice Tina’s indecision.
“Sleep with me,” Bagi offers. Tina squeaks.
“You—Sorry—I?” Tina sputters, and Bagi flushes.
“Like, sleeping! On the couch, with me. Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that—oh my god.”
“You—” Tina can’t stop giggling. She buries her face in her hands.
Now they’re both cracking up. Tina isn’t sure if she feels nauseous from laughing, or from how unbearably cute Bagi looks when she’s laughing. It’s been a while since Tina last laughed like this.
“Oh my god—my stomach hurts. Tina, really,” Bagi pats the space on the couch next to her, “There’s enough room, we can both sleep here.”
Really, it’s a couch. It’s a little cramped, honestly. Sure, it’s not a small couch, but even a big couch isn’t supposed to have two people lying on it, side by side. Not that it actually matters. Tina just crawls and wiggles her way to lay next to Bagi. It shouldn’t even be a big deal—who cares? Not her. Tina’s heart nearly pounding out of her chest when Bagi shifts her arm closer to her disagrees. It’s fine. She won’t be a freak about this.
It’s a little hard not to be. Tina ends up pressing into Bagi’s side, head leaning into Bagi’s shoulder. One of Bagi’s arms hangs off the couch, and the other is thrown over Tina, hand resting limply over Tina’s shoulder. Tina hesitantly throws an arm over Bagi’s stomach. To make it even, or something. It’s cramped, but somehow, Tina feels comfortable.
Eventually, Tina relaxes. She’s pretty sure both of them are still awake.
“You went through all the trouble of brushing my hair, and now I’m just going to wake up with bedhead again,” Tina mumbles.
“It’s okay. I really meant what I said, Tina. I like spending time with you.”
Tina’s heart feels caught in her throat. She doesn’t think she can even respond in words. She feels something in her heart beg to curl around Bagi with sharp horns and sharp claws and sharp teeth, and she aches. She presses closer, and hopes Bagi understands. God, she’s in love with this woman—no, this angel.
Tina’s eyes flutter closed, and she’s nearly asleep when she feels lips on the top of her head, right between her horns. Her stomach explodes in one million, no, one billion butterflies.
Slowly, subtly as she can manage, Tina turns her head and presses her lips to the hand resting over her shoulder. She hears a quick intake of breath. Bagi’s hand on her shoulder tightens, then loosens. Cautiously, Bagi’s hand reaches to grasp Tina’s. Fingers with too-long nails intertwine with warm, calloused ones, and Tina lets out a slow breath, and drifts away to sleep.