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It started with a random text from her younger brother Michael.
It was one of those rare occasions where she had the day off and Baran did not.
Since Baran usually had to go in earlier than Trinity, the younger woman has gotten used to being the one to drop of Farouk at school in the mornings. But last night after a couple of orgasms that had left them both sated, Baran told Trinity she’d handle it for her.
And so she’d gotten to sleep in until 10:30. Trinity doesn’t remember if she stirred at all when Baran got out of bed, because when she opens her eyes if feels almost as if she has teleported from the night before.
The house is quiet, Baran must have opened the drapes before she left because the sun is beaming down through the window pane down to the bed. This would be annoying any other morning, but the suns rays warm her skin from where the duvet has fallen down in her slumber.
She feels like a cat as she stretches out her whole body, reveling in that euphoric feeling of a deep stretch.
Her morning is simple enough, Baran has left everything out for her to quickly make herself a cup of coffee with the keurig and a sticky note on the fridge reminding her: Fruit and water first :) Love you
Trinity rolled her eyes fondly. Baran always insisted she drink a full cup of water and eat something before her first sip of coffee.
But Baran is not here. She would be none the wiser if Trinity only had a half glass of water and some grapes, right?
Trinity feels like she’s earned it with her off day, so she downs half a glass quickly so she can start with her morning coffee.
She scrolls a little on her phone while waking up before she gets ready for her day.
Trinity changes into the work out clothes she’s left behind here so she can go jogging and work out at the gym.
When Trinity first visited Baran’s house it wasn’t under the guise of any relationship, she was simply filling the role as an emergency babysitter.
She’d thought Garcia’s place was boujee, but it was nothing compared to the two-story white bricked house in Baran’s gated community.
Each house was mostly identical, which usually Trinity scoffed at, but even she had to admit the houses were nice. It even had a gym and a pool at the entrance of the complex, which Trinity has grown used to taking full advantage of now that she was on Baran’s permanent guest list.
So her jog wasn’t very long overall, but she made up for it by going extra hard on the machines. She’d missed working out regularly, but after retiring from college sports she’d fizzled out of her routines during the rat race of med school.
But she truly enjoye the exercise, and Baran enjoys watching her work up a sweat. (Baran usually sticks to running, yoga, and pilates; anything that could possibly result in a head injury was usually too risky)
She works out until around noon where she walks back to the house to make herself a smoothie. She makes smoothies in the afternoons where she doesn’t feel very hungry but still needs the protein and energy.
She gets some housework done next and folds some laundry along to the newest season of Below Deck that she and Baran are seriously behind on.
It isn’t much longer until she’s hopping into her car and picking up Farouk from school. The moment he notices her blue Jeep he perks up from his spot waiting and all but bounds into her car in a rush to catch her up on his day.
This isn’t the first time she’s braved the afternoon carline and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The first time had been so awkward, as they were still new to each other. Farouk hardly said a word at first until a P!nk song on Trinity’s playlist used the word motherfucker.
In her effort to censor the song and turn it down she quickly fiddled with the dial- initially turning it louder at first on accident so the next fucker part of the word resonated through the car. Trinity yelped and shut off the whole system, apologizing profusely and promising him anything he wants at Walmart in exchange for him not telling his mom.
Farouk was howling with laughter after that and forgot all about his nerves. He picked out some new Pokemon cards and, to Trinity’s knowledge, never revealed the incident to his mom.
He typically would stay at after school care or with a friend until either of his parents, or Trinity, was off work, but on their days off they always make the effort to fetch him on time.
Today he was on fire about a student in his class who seemed to have never heard the concept of “covering your cough”.
“And I told him that Maman says-“ for a 10 year old he was pretty bright, but a know it all like his mom. Robo-son, Trinity sometimes called him fondly, to his confused delight and mother’s faux horror.
They make it home pretty quickly and Trinity has to stifle her own carb cravings to redirect him away from the unhealthy food kept just out of reach of the both of them in the pantry.
Instead they share some watermelon while Trinity helps him with his math homework. He knows she’s useless when it comes to reading, but she’s actually pretty helpful when it comes to decimals and fractions.
It is then when she gets the text.
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Evil spawn: found some old photos - looking fly sis ✈️👌🏻👏🏻
[7 Images Attached]
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And- oh boy…
Thankfully he was smart enough not to send her anything from gymnastics, and her heart clutches at the series of images of little early 00s Trinity. There’s a photo of her holding her brother after his birth, scenes from a family vacation in DisneyLand, and a photo of her in her youth soccer get up.
Her hair is shoulder length and braided into two pig tails, with blue bows in her hair to match her blue soccer jersey.
Trinity smiles at the reflection of her younger self, happy to remember a time before everything soured.
“Hey Farouk, check this out,” Trinity says, turning her phone in her hand around to show the already curious boy.
“Is that you?” He asked, swiping through the photos. “Thats me. My brother sent those to me- they must be spring cleaning or something.”
“You played soccer?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in thought much like his mother.
Trinity hesitated, she hadn’t really talked about her childhood with him apart from when they were talking about Pixar movie opinions. She didn’t want to, and probably would never talk about gymnastics around him if she could help it. Too many memories.
“I did. I played a lot of sports actually. Around that age I also played T-ball in the fall and maybe dance as well?“
“Oh..” he mumbled, returning back to his homework.
Trinity thought that would probably be the end of it, and after glancing at the clock on the wall she realized it was time to start on dinner.
Thirty minutes pass and when Trinity has just reduced the pasta sauce she was working on to a simmer, Farouk pipes up behind her, “So who is better? Messi or Ronaldo?” He’s sitting at the kitchen counter on his switch. He doesn’t even look up when he says it.
Trinity hides her smirk with her turned body and thinks about her response carefully, she knows from her work with kids in the ED that this question was the new “Shaq vs Koby” argument of their generation.
“Well, they both play in different leagues most of the year that are also in different countries. I think they are both good at what they do. Messi played a game at my university though and That was pretty cool.”
Farouk seemed to take this in while Trinity added the chicken to the pasta.
“Why do you ask anyway?” From what Trinity had observed of the kid, he wasn’t exactly the most athletic or sporty kid out there. In fact most of his favorite activities were sort of nerdish in general.
“All the boys in my class talk about it.” He deadpans, “I never know what to say.” He sighs, fingers clicking away as he plays his game.
Trinity doesn’t like the sad tone of his voice, far away like he’s yearning for something.
“Well, have you ever played sports? Or do your parents like sports? That’s usually where other kids pick it up.” Trinity asks him.
“No. No one ever asked if I wanted to. Papa doesn’t watch sports,” he laments. “Sometimes we play soccer and basketball at gym and I have fun though.”
And Trinity can’t imagine that Baran was ever anything more than a casual observer of sports. Or at the least she’s never mentioned anything about it.
Trinity turns to the boy, “Farouk have I ever told you that I was an exercise science major before I was a doctor?”
“A what?”
“Its like.. when you go to school to be a PE Teacher or a physical therapist. If being a doctor doesn’t work out I always planned to coach sports.”
Farouk pauses his game and sets the switch down. He’s such a respectful little boy.
“So I guess what I’m saying is that if you ever want to play a sport, I can help you out. In fact I can’t wait for your first game.”
“You don’t even know what I’ll pick!”
“Doesn’t matter. Your mom and I will cheer you on from the bleachers.” Trinity promised.
Farouk seems to brighten at her words, “I got a football for Christmas two years ago from an uncle. Could we use that?”
“Uhh…” Trinity can already hear Baran vetoing football altogether in the back of her mind, but it couldn’t hurt to teach him how to throw could it? “Sure. Go get it,” she told him.
She pushes the pasta to another burner on low, not wanting to burn down the house without Baran around.
He returns with a small sized football, perfect for his hand size. Trinity leads the boy through the backdoor and into back yard.
“Okay we’ll start with learning to throw it first and worry about catching in a minute.”
She mimics the motion he will need to take, explaining the position of his fingers on the ball helps to create a spiral. He practices the motion once or twice before giving it a try.
It zoom ten feet away before bouncing off the grass. “That was great!” Trinity praises.
They practice that for a little while longer before Trinity talks through catching. He’s a little clumsy at first but then he starts to get into a rhythm with it.
Back and forth they throw the ball, challenging themselves to throw further and further by backing up in between throws.
The opening of the backdoor alerts Trinity to Baran’s presence. With a smile she turns eagerly to great her girlfriend.
“You’re ho-“ Thunk! “Aw shit”
The football collides with Trinity’s skull at the same time that Farouk declares, “I want to play soccer!”
Baran lets out a gasp of horror and both Al-Hashimi’s hurry over to Trinity’s side.
Trinity sees stars and crumbles to the ground. She does a good job of keeping it together with the kid around but damn he’s got an arm.
“This is not the time Trinity,” Baran admonishes her while she moves to gently cup her face and inspect Trinity for injuries. Fuck had she said that our loud?
“I’m okay Baran,” Trinity cautions an eye open. Maybe its cliche but the soothing hands on her face and the worried looks in both Baran and Farouk’s face has her feeling a little better instantly.
Baran hasn’t responded because she’s still worriedly checking her over, “How’s your vision baby? What about your eyes? Any nausea?!”
Trinity tries to wave her away, “I’m fine B, it was a foam ball anyway.”
Baran cups her face and strokes her cheek with her thumb faintly, “I don’t care what it was. You’re hurt.” She pouts.
“But did you see my throw Mama?” Farouk asks excitedly, apparently having decided that Trinity was fine.
Baran closes her eyes and smiles tightly, “I did baby. How did this happen? Its nearly 8:30 on a school night.” She points out, helping Trinity to her feet.
“Baran, its okay. I’m just a little winded,” Trinity soothed, running her hands down her shoulders in a comforting motion. Sure there might be a small goose egg, but her hair would hide that.
“Have Either of you eaten dinner?” Baran asks them, raising a stern brow that has both of them shrinking on the spot.
Oops, they’d forgotten about that part.
“I left it on the stove, should still be warm. We just got distracted, I’m sorry.” Trinity replies, knowing honesty was always the best policy with an Al-Hashimi.
Baran shakes her head, “Its fine, I was just seriously surprised to find you both out here.”
“Trinity’s brother sent pictures!” Farouk says, as if that explained everything. “He did?” Baran asks, looking from her son to her blushing girlfriend.
“He did. Come on, I’ll show you at the dinner table.”
All in all, it took no less than five minutes for the trio to wash up for dinner and plate up.
The chicken was a little more well-done than normal, but no one mentioned it.
Trinity retrieves her phone and hands it to Baran so she can see the photos.
Her girlfriend brightens immediately at the images, gasping at the window into Trinity’s younger self. “You were so cute! Look at those cheeks!” Baran gushes, eyes going from the screen to Trinity.
She reaches out and pinches Trinity’s own cheek, making the younger girl melt. She liked having the opportunity to show Baran a different version of herself, having the two of them meet per-say.
Baran keeps scrolling, making oohs and ahhhs at each picture before finally resting on her soccer photo. “Ooooh the bows.”
Trinity preens under all of the praise, feeling satisfied as she takes a big bite of her pasta.
“Do you think I could play soccer like Trin?”
Baran pauses at this and clenches her jaw. Months ago, Trinity had thought that was her disapproving face. Now she just knows its her “serious thinking” face, as Trinity calls it.
Her truly disappointed face is much worse in Trinity’s opinion.
“I’m not saying no, but we will have to look into it. Who knows when the season starts or if you’ll be available..” Baran rattles off the list she seemingly instantly formed in her head.
Trinity nodded, “It’s true, and there are still other sports and activities you might like. I didn’t even play for that long.”
She had tried gymnastics that next fall and that became her first love.
“Wait, so you didn’t play forever?” He sounds heartbroken at the news.
“Well, my parents wanted me to try a little of everything until I found something I liked.” Something like gymnastics.
Baran seems to get the message and redirects the conversation back to Farouk and his school day.
Later, after Farouk is in bed and Baran has joined Trinity for a long and glorious shower, Trinity lies directly on top of Baran with her head on her just below her breasts, a soft but sure hand plays with her hair.
She’s so comfortable and the feeling of fingers in her hair is soothing. Had she’d not been directly on top of the other woman, she might have not heard her when she opened her mouth to speak.
“I liked seeing those photos earlier, thank you for sharing that with us.”
Trinity stirs, craning her head to peer up at Baran. “I liked showing you. She was a good girl.” Trinity hums sleepily.
“You just looked so happy,” Baran continues, hand stalling for a moment. There's enough silence that Trinity can tell where this is going.
Why can’t you still be that happy?
Trinity shakes her head, “Baran, it’s not like that. I don’t think… something happens with development where I think you just.. stop being as happy as you were before. I don’t think I’m supposed to be that happy, that Trinity would laugh at fart jokes,” she explains, drawing a laugh from Baran.
“And I was unhappy for a while.. deeply unhappy. I didn’t think I could ever been happy again no matter what… but things change. And with you and Farouk? I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” She tells her solemnly.
Baran stares at her for a moment, searching.
“Do you really mean that?” She asks, exhaling breathily like she might tear up. “I do. I love you both so much,” Trinity tells her.
“We love you too,” Baran replies, smiling widely.
All the emotion is overwhelming for Trinity, so she places her head back down and kisses the skin below her softly.
Baran resumes her ministrations in her hair. She trails from the roots to the tips, Trinity makes a noise similar to a purr every time she comes back to the base of her neck.
Just as Trinity has started to doze off, she wakes up suddenly when Baran’s hand stills unexpectedly and she feels a dull pain at the base of her skull.
“Wha- Trinity Marie Santos!”