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Chapter Text

<<Another great showing from Anne Lister yesterday, Peter. Celebrating her 125th cap with a brilliant save that sealed the win for England. And with that showing from their captain, the Lionesses have sailed through qualification and have earned their place in the Euro.>>

<<It was brilliant, Martin. Going into the tournament there was some question about Captain Lister being part of the squad. I think she's answered that question with her performance throughout qualifying and especially last night.>>

<<You've got that right. Her club play at Halifax United has also been spectacular so far this season. Conceding only one goal in the first five games.>>

<<They've greatly improved their tactics and composure around the eighteen yard box, and given Lister the support that was really lacking last season.>> 

<< She can't do it all on her own, but when you do need her, as she demonstrated last night, her experience, her calm, her focus are unmatched. Proving once again that something's do just keep getting better with age.>>

Elizabeth huffed, and pressing some button on her desk muted the television on the wall across the room. "I am sick of hearing about Anne Lister." 

Ann looked up from the couch she occupied against the wall. "Who's Anne Lister?" 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and went back to her paperwork. "Honestly Annie," she stated. "Father owned this club for thirty years, yet what you don't know about football could fill this stadium." She huffed with a gesture towards the floor to ceiling windows that made up the opposite wall. 

Ann looked across and beyond them at the rows and rows of red seats, down to the perfect expanse of green below. Really, that had always been the best part of her father owning a football club- laying in the perfect field surrounded by the smell of fresh cut grass. 

"Well that's why he left you the club and not me," she said, putting her phone back in her purse. "I better see what's keeping Catherine. Will you be joining us for lunch?" She asked, gesturing to the paperwork her sister was currently working through. 

Elizabeth shook her head and sighed. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I have to look at these scouting reports or they'll just keep piling up. I'm sorry Annie."

Ann adjusted her dress as she stood. "That's alright. I know you're busy. Don't work too hard," she advised, walking over to kiss Elizabeth's cheek.

Elizabeth smiled softly. "I'll try. Oh, and tell Catherine to come see me when she's back." 

Ann nodded and headed for the door. "Remember it's just a game!" She called back over her shoulder punctuated by a giggle when she heard Elizabeth groan. 

Everyone smiled and greeted her as she walked down the hallway, passed displays of trophies and tattered, grass stained uniforms from decades ago. 

She offered a few shy hellos to some of the faces she recognized, but there  weren't many. 

Since her sister had taken over two years ago, and Catherine had become Director of Communications, Ann found herself coming to the stadium more often, but the ins and outs of the operation still eluded her. She'd tried, for years, to be interested for her father's sake, but she could never muster the same enthusiasm as Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth had the head for business, and the passion for football. Ann much preferred her quiet life with her paint, and her volunteer work, and occasionally making appearances, when she was called upon, at events for her family's various charitable pursuits. Smiling politely, sipping champagne and signing a cheque. 

She couldn't recall the last time she'd actually attended a match. It must have been when their father was still alive. When they'd opened the newly renovated stadium. She'd vaguely remembered him proudly telling her Crow Nest could hold an extra five thousand fans. 

The door to Catherine's office was ajar and she slipped in quietly, finding her cousin on the phone. She sat in one of the chairs, folding her hands in her lap and waiting.

She perused the assortment of newspapers on Catherine's desk, various folded and crumpled sport sections. She turned one around to read the headlines. Something about cricket and there was that name Elizabeth was sick of: Lister. 

Ann pulled the paper into her lap, wondering what all the fuss was about. She hadn't gotten far in the article before Catherine pulled her attention back. 

"Sorry about that," she apologized. "Didn't think it would be that long of a call. Have we missed our reservation?" 

Ann shook her head. "It's alright Cathy," she said, setting the paper back on the desk. "And no. We still have twenty minutes to get there." 

Catherine stood and gathered her phone and purse. "Let's dash then. I'm starving."

They sat out on the patio, grateful it was still warm enough these first weeks of September to do so. The hem of Ann's flowy dress danced in the breeze beneath the table as she appreciated the warm sun on her bare shoulders. She squinted as she looked up and thanked the waiter softly as he cleared their plates. 

"Are you coming back to Lightcliffe?" 

Ann shook her head. "I think I'll stay in Halifax and pop into some shops. I need a few art supplies, and that should keep me busy this afternoon." 

Catherine regarded her cousin over the rim of her Aperol spritz. "Annie, will you please reconsider my offer? Come and we can work together at the Crow Nest. It'll be fun and you can keep yourself occupied and be near me and Elizabeth more-"

"I'm alright Cathy," Ann interjected. "You know I like my quiet life." 

Catherine sighed. They'd had this conversation before. "I know. I just worry about you, and with the season in full swing it's harder for us to get together. I don't want you to feel lonely again." 

"I'm okay," Ann reiterated. "I have my art, and I've asked James to involve me more with some of the charity work at the Foundation. And I still see Dr. Belcombe. I'm happy. Truly." 

Catherine reached across the table and squeezed her cousin's forearm. "That's what we all want for you Annie. I'm sorry for being such a bother." 

Ann smiled. "I know you mean well, and Elizabeth, but really I'm in a good place." 

Catherine sipped her drink. "We just need to find you a sexy lady now then," she said with a wink. 

Ann blushed, and looked away. "I don't think so."

"Oh come now, Annie."

Ann kept her eyes on her lap, playing with her ring. "I'm not sure there's someone out there for me." 

"What about her?" 

And shot her head around to look in the same direction as her cousin, and spotted an attractive woman about her age walking on the pavement across the street. She was very pretty with long red hair, in a dress not too dissimilar from Ann's current attire. 

"Oh Cathy, no," she admonished. 

Catherine grinned. "Noted." 

Ann rolled her eyes. "No, I meant I'm not playing this game." 

Catherine finished her drink and ignored her, with a wave of her hand. "More butch?" 

At that Ann blushed, and her cousin smirked. 

"How have you not ended up with some footballer yet?" 

Ann made a face. "I don't want a footballer," she shook her head in an attempt to rid her mind of the conversation. 

"I can think of a handful on our squad alone-"

Ann cut her off there. "No," she started. "In fact I don't want anyone. I'm finally enjoying my time with myself. Maybe, someday if the right woman came along. I'd like to be in love. Maybe. I… I don't know." 

"Who would this right woman be?" 

Ann picked a thread on the napkin still in her lap. "I don't know," she repeated. "Just someone who doesn't care who I am, or what I can do for them. I'm so sick of my aunt or Eliza always trying to set me up with some daughter of some investor or whatever else." 

Catherine chuckled. "At least they aren't sons anymore." 

Ann huffed and sighed. "I think I've nearly resigned myself to the thought that maybe there isn't someone for me. Maybe it just doesn't happen for some people you know?" 

Catherine reached across the table again for her cousin's hand, and shook her head. "There's no person on this Earth more deserving of love than you." 

Chapter Text

"Excuse me?"

The soft interjection interrupted Ann's contemplation over whether she needed another tin of watercolours.

Looking up, her eyes met the dark brown of the woman who had approached her.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, but you look like you may know more about this art stuff than I do," she went on, gesturing to the brushes and paints Ann had already gathered.

"Do you mind if I ask your opinion?"

"Umm," Ann started, willing herself to answer. She was finding it hard to form a coherent sentence.

The woman was wearing a plain, white t-shirt. Sunglasses dangled from the V of the collar, and as she stooped to be eye level, Ann tried not to stare at the soft, slightly tan skin that was on display, nor the muscles that flexed in her arms as the woman stuffed her hands in the pockets of her tight jeans. She rocked back on the heels of her brightly coloured trainers, waiting for her answer.

"Umm," Ann repeated. "I… of course not," she finally managed, fumbling a bit with the brushes in her hand. "Wh-what can I help you with?"

The woman stood up tall, pulling one hand out of her pocket to gesture at the shelves and displays of supplies about them.

"Truth be told,I know nothing about any of this, but I have a friend whose daughter is very keen on art. Her birthday is coming up in a week and I was hoping to get her something."

Ann bit her lip, happy the conversation was turning to a subject where she could hold her own, and keep her focus on something besides the handsome face before her.

"How old will she be?" She asked, fidgeting again with the items in her hands.

"Twelve," the woman answered, combing her long, dark hair away from her face with her fingers. The movement revealed where it was shaved close above her ears and at the back above her neck, and suddenly Ann needed to take a deep breath.

"Umm, okay," she managed. "Do you know what kind of art she enjoys making?" As long as they stayed on topic, Ann felt her confidence rebounding.

"I know she sketches a great deal, and pencil crayons and those things, you know. Whatever they make you do at school. But I was thinking perhaps she'd like to branch out. I suppose, I just didn't realize how much branching out one could do."

Ann smiled, lip again between her teeth. "It's a lot for sure. Especially if you're not artistically inclined. Not that," she caught herself. "Not that I'm insinuating you aren't artistic. I just-"

The woman saved her with a chuckle. "No you'd be right on the mark with that one. More of a bruiser," she said, with a wink.

Ann looked away at that, and recovered herself with a question. "Has she ever tried painting?"

The woman blew out a long breath as she contemplated the question. "I don't think so, but I'm sure she'd love it. She loves anything bright and colourful. She'd love your dress I'm sure."

Ann looked down at the cheerful pattern of pink flowers that adorned her sundress, feeling a hint of the same colour rising in her cheeks. "It is a favourite of mine," she admitted.

The woman smiled. "It should be. You look like a painting yourself."

Never one to take a compliment well, Ann kept her eyes down, but managed a soft "thank you".

"So," the woman started, thankfully taking them back to the subject. "What would be your recommendations?"

They spent the next half hour or so wandering through the shelves and displays. Ann's confidence grew as she talked about art, as she got lost in her passion instead of those piercing,
dark eyes.

The woman's arms were laden with watercolour tins, paper, brushes, and even a travel case with a little easel to store everything.

"Do you think that's enough to get her started?" The woman asked.

Ann bit her lip in contemplation. "Perhaps a book," she suggested, as they approached an intimidating wall of reference material. Ann immediately wandered to the section she wanted and took down a book. She looked at the cover and put it back.

"Not that one," she said more to herself. "This one," she said triumphantly, pulling it free from its neighbours and holding it up for the woman to see. "It's instructive, but also interactive and you paint along in it. It's easy to follow and perfect for someone younger."

The woman smiled as she took the book. "Do you teach? Is that how you know all this? Could I pay for lessons as part of my gift? Would you be available?"

Ann shook her head. "I did go to art school," she started. "But I'm not a teacher, no. I just finished up my master's degree to become an art therapist actually, and I'm just taking some time off this year before I start my apprenticeship. But you don't want to know all that," she finished with a sigh.

The woman was looking at her again with those dark eyes, but this time Ann couldn't tear hers away.

"Maybe I do," the woman said softly, taking a step forward. "Maybe I'd like for you to tell me all about it."

Ann's mouth opened as her brain tried to catch up. "Do you think you need therapy?"

The woman chuckled and shook her head. "Good Lord, as if you weren't already adorable enough."

Ann's brow furrowed, but before she could speak the woman continued.

"I'm asking if you'd fancy going out with me, and telling me all about yourself."

Ann's mouth fell open, and the woman took another step forward.

"I'm Anne, by the way and.."

Ann couldn't focus, one of the brushes she was holding slipped from her fingers, she barely heard it hit the floor. "Ann," she heard herself say.

The woman was smiling bright. "Yes, that's me, and you are…"

"Ann," she repeated, barely registering the chuckle from her companion over the rushing in her ears.

"I think we've established that," she said still laughing, as she bent down to picked up the wayward brush. "But what's your name?"

Ann snapped out of it finally as another customer slipped passed them in the narrow aisle.

"Oh God," she groaned. "I'm such a…" she trailed off. "I'm not very good at this."

But Anne continued to smile softly down at her. "I think you're very good at it. I think your smart and I think your interesting and the more I speak to you, the more I want to hear."

Ann blushed and tried to look away as she always did, but two long fingers caught her chin before she could.

"What I'd like now is to learn your name."

"Ann," she replied. "My name is also Ann, no E," she rushed out the explanation before Anne thought she was mad

"There's the confusion then," Anne said with another laugh, dropping her hand from Ann's chin. "I'm Anne with an E so at least there's that. Now what do you say we pay for our things and go grab a pint."

Ann nodded, still somewhat in disbelief, but she managed a reply. "I'd like that."

Anne insisted on paying for everything, despite Ann's objections. "It's the least I can do after all your help. I won't hear anymore about it," she held firm, carrying their parcels from the store.

Back out on the pavement and the bright sun of the early afternoon, Ann was suddenly struck by reality.

The store had been a separate universe unto themselves. The events that transpired there were things that weren't meant to happen to Ann. Handsome women weren't meant to approach her, they certainly weren't meant to be interested.

It could so easily have been something she imagined. Something she'd dreamed up. Maybe she was still in the store, looking at watercolour tins and imagining herself a little less lonely on a Tuesday afternoon.

She looked back at the store, through the ornate window display, and feeling the sun on her shoulders and the breeze in her hair and knew she was here, and Anne was still by her side.

Anne was carrying their bags. The soft cords of the handles were digging into her hands, but she didn't seem to notice. Her hands looked tough and strong, capable. Ann wondered if her work required her to use them.

Anne was here, and so was she. She could see them reflected in the shop window. She looked down and saw her canvas shoes on the pavement. When Anne spoke, she lifted her head.

"Do you have a preference?" She asked. "If not, there's a quiet, cozy spot around the corner. It's not far."

Ann returned to herself at Anne's question, squinting in the sunlight.

"I… I haven't been to a pub in years," she admitted. "So I'm sure whatever you like will be fine."

Anne hummed. "If you're not much for pubs, we could go somewhere else. A restaurant? Coffee?"

Ann shook her head. "I like pubs," she clarified. "I just- I don't really get to go to them a lot."

Anne smiled at her, and putting their bags in one hand, extended her free arm to Ann. "Come on then. Let's get to know one another."

Chapter Text

The pub was as cozy and quiet as promised. Ann walked with her hand in the crook of Anne's elbow, for their short journey across the street and around the next corner.

The bartender was all smiles, as they came through the door. "Afternoon Captain," he offered, looking at Anne before turning his attention to her companion. "Afternoon miss."

"Good afternoon," Anne replied with a nod.

Ann smiled by way of greeting and followed Anne to a booth in a secluded corner. She slid in on one side and scooted towards the window, while Anne piled their parcels on the bench across from her.

"What would you like?" She asked, pulling her wallet from her pocket.

"Oh no, I'll get," Ann insisted, reaching for her purse, but Anne raised her free hand and stopped her.

"No, please, I insist. You think I'm going to invite you for a drink and then make you pay your way?"

Ann bit her lip, and didn't spill the answer that came immediately to her mind. That she really didn't know. That no one had invited her out for a drink before.

Any date she'd ever been on had been a set up. Some son of a friend of her father. They'd take her to the same sterile, upscale restaurants and talk about themselves.

She'd endure it out of duty, and the next day tell whatever member of the tribe was responsible for the set up that she really wasn't interested. That would inevitably lead to more questions and, eventually, derision. What was wrong with her? Surely there couldn't be something wrong with all of these men?

When she'd confided to Catherine why none of these dates would ever work out, Catherine had hugged her while she'd cried. When her father found out he'd only looked at her from across his desk and said nothing. She sat there equally silent, but cried herself to sleep that night.

"But you're so pretty," her aunt had said. "A pretty girl like you could surely find a man." She'd long since stopped crying, instead she'd smothered it. Smothered it until she suffocated.

Slowly she'd started taking shallow breaths. Now, this afternoon, suddenly, her lungs were full. Even as she blushed and looked down at the table.

"I suppose that would be considered bad form?" She inquired, looking up.

Anne smiled down at her. "Terrible form. So what would you like?"

Ann eyed the bar, over Anne's shoulder as she contemplated and chewed her lip. "Any cider will do," she finally said.

Anne smiled. "Be right back."

Ann watched the condensation drip down the pint glass as it was set down before her. It reached the polished wood of the table before she looked up. Anne was settling into the opposite seat with a soft smile.

"What are you thinking?"

Ann opened her mouth to speak, but still took a beat before she did. "I wasn't really thinking," she answered, feeling foolish at the admission, but Anne only waited for her to continue. "Sometimes I just notice little moments and try to remember them, so later I can try to maybe paint it and preserve it."

Anne nodded. "And what were you trying to preserve on your pint glass?"

Ann bit her lip. "The drop was running down it, and I could still see where your fingers had been."

Anne leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "And that's worth preserving?"

Ann looked down briefly and back up. "I hope so."

Anne smiled and raised her glass. "I hope so too."

Conversation flowed easily, especially now that Ann was halfway through her pint.

"Don't think I have the patience to sit still in front of an easel fiddling about."

"It can be a wonderful way to relax," Ann offered.

Anne shook her head. "I go more for sport."

"I can tell," Ann let slip, her eyes wide as soon as the final word was past her lips.

"I mean-I… I just noticed you're fit," she stammered, digging herself deeper as the blush crept up her face. "Oh lord. I meant fit like in shape. Not fit like fit fit. Not- not that I'm implying you aren't-"

Anne for her part chuckled and reached across the table to rest her hand on Ann's arm. "Take a breath. I know what you meant, but also thank you for thinking I'm fit no matter its exact definition."

Ann groaned and shook her head. "I warned you I was bad at this."

Anne waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense," she declared. "I'm having a great time, but I do have a very serious question and it may have a serious impact on my opinion of you."

Ann bit her lip, her expression turning solemn as she swallowed in anticipation. "All right," she said, sitting up.

Anne ran a finger across the lip of her pint, before levelling her dark eyes on Ann. "Waffles or pancakes?"

Ann faltered. "Umm… I… that's the question?"

Anne couldn't keep the smile from cracking her countenance. "I may have exaggerated its gravity, but yes."

Ann giggled. "Is French toast an option?"

Anne raised an eyebrow. "French toast?"

Ann nodded, still smiling. "I love French toast. With loads of cinnamon. Does that alter your opinion of me?"

Anne chuckled again as she swallowed her mouthful of beer. "Only to increase my estimation of you. You're keeping me on my toes."

Ann sipped her cider triumphant. Maybe she wasn't so bad at this. Maybe like so many things she'd simply never had the opportunity to try.

"What's your choice?" She asked, setting her glass back on its coaster.

Anne pondered briefly before shaking her head. "Depends on the day."

Ann furrowed her eyebrows. "Depends on the day?"

"Of course. Some days are waffles, some pancakes. You're telling me you always choose French toast?"

"If it's an option."

Anne brought her pint to her lips, for a sip before continuing. "What if it wasn't?"

"And I want something sweet?"

Anne chuckled. "Yes."

"You're not going to like my answer," she warned with a laugh of her own.

Anne raised an eyebrow. "If you say neither-"

"Crêpes!" Ann interjected with a giggle.

Anne threw her hands up. "You're an enigma," she declared with false exasperation, before downing the last of her pint.

Ann watched the movement of the lithe muscles in her companion's neck with awe, but her smile began to fade as she felt the slight clawing of her anxiety.

She looked down at the last quarter that remained in her own glass. When it was finished, would they go their separate ways?

Anne seemed capable of reading her mind.

"Would you like another?"

Ann looked up, and worried her lip. "I-I want to," she admitted. "But I'm not much of a drinker, but I also don't-" She stopped herself, not wanting to sound too eager.

Again Anne came to her aid. "Don't want this to end?" She completed the thought.

Ann looked down at the table, she played with a fold of her dress, but soon found her chin being lifted by the same strong hands she'd admired earlier.

"Hey," Anne offered, her voice gentle. "I don't want to go either. Don't worry," she continued with a smile, brushing her thumb against the cleft in Ann's chin.

"I'm just as keen for us to continue our conversation."

Ann nodded slightly. She still felt the press of her anxieties, but as Anne pulled her hand away, perhaps a little less so.

"Another round?"

Both women turned to see the bartender cleaning a nearby table.

"No, not today," Anne answered.

He nodded. "Well you know you're always welcome to stay as long as you like, captain."

Anne nodded in return. "Thank you."

Ann finished her cider and bounced back on her bench, settling a little now that it was decided their afternoon wasn't quite over with.

She smiled when Anne turned her attention back around. "Are you in the army or something?"

Anne looked at her a bit sideways, as she slid her empty glass away. "No," she answered slowly.

"Oh," Ann said, her brows furrowing. "I just thought… he keeps calling you captain."

Anne's eyes widened. "I don't mean to sound like a total ass, but," she started. "Do you not know who I am?"

Ann shook her head, her lip finding its place between her teeth. "No…" she finally answered.

Anne leaned back in her seat. "All this afternoon," she said, waving her hand. "You've just thought I was some random woman in a shop, and you thought, we'd got on well enough, let's have a drink?"

Ann was unsure if she should, but eventually answered with a nod. "Well I-" she started to explain. "You seemed nice, and- and you are," she admitted, looking down and playing with the hem of her dress under the table. "Very handsome."

Anne grinned. "Well thank you. And now it's my turn to confess, that although I did need help today," she started, reaching out across the table. At the movement, Ann looked up.

When their eyes met, Anne continued. "I probably could have asked someone who worked at the store, and not the prettiest woman I think I've ever seen."

Ann blushed. "You really thought so?"

"You were a vision. You are a vision," she amended.

Ann looked away, a shy smile forming on her lips. "You're too kind."

Anne shook her head. "I have a feeling you could use a little extra kindness in your life."

Ann closed her eyes. "How do you always say the right thing?" She asked in a whisper, before allowing her chin to yet again be lifted. She opened her eyes to be met with the dark depth of brown she'd been sinking into all afternoon.

Anne offered a soft smile. "I suppose I've always been adept at reading the pitch," she answered, pressing her warm hand against a pale cheek.

Ann returned to herself as Anne's thumb stroked across a line of faint freckles. She reached up and pulled the hand away, entwining it, instead, with her own on top of the table.

"Is that it?" She asked, playing with Anne's fingers, and bringing the conversation back around. "Do you play some kind of sport?"

"I captain a football team."

"Oh, I don't know anything about football. What team?"

"I'm beginning to realize that," Anne chuckled. "And it's Halifax United," she answered.

Ann's eyes widened, bits of commentary and newspaper articles flashing through her mind. "Oh lord, you're Anne Lister."

Anne nodded. "So you have at least heard of me. My ego can rest a bit easi-"

"My sister hates you," Ann interjected, still dumbfounded.

Anne's eyebrows shot up at the remark. "Well," she recovered. "I suppose it's a good thing I'm not having a drink with your sister."

Ann was too busy chewing her lip to respond. "God, what are the chances?" She was looking down at the table, talking more to herself, both hands fidgeting with Anne's long fingers.

"This is why you shouldn't do new things," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "You're not meant to have things you want."

Across the table, Anne was growing concerned. Pulling her hand away, she got up swiftly and moved to sit next to Ann.

She grasped animated hands firmly between her own before speaking.

"Hey, what's all this talk about? What difference does it make if your sister thinks I'm a rubbish keeper. She's not the first."

Ann shook her head, and paused at the top of her breath, letting it out slowly before responding. "My sister is Elizabeth Walker," she managed, closing her eyes and leaning her head on Anne's shoulder.

Anne raised her eyebrows. "Walker, like the Lightcliffe Walkers?

Ann nodded.

"Oh, then she absolutely does hate me."

Ann buried her face. "I just thought…" she mumbled, against Anne's sleeve.

"Hey," Anne started softly, throwing her arm around slight shoulders. "She doesn't really know me, and what difference does it make? So our teams are bitter rivals. It's a game. This is your life, and I'm beginning to suspect you haven't always been allowed to lead it."

Ann nodded again.

"Well, there's no better time to start."

Ann sank further into her companion's warm embrace. "You must think I'm so foolish," she sighed.

But Anne was quick to shake her head.

"Nonsense," she assured. "No one always has an easy life, no matter their circumstances. I don't know what yours has thrown at you exactly, but I would like to."

Ann lifted her head. "Really? Still?"

Anne seemed to make a study of her, and Ann had to turn her eyes away from the intensity of her gaze. When she felt a warm hand pressed against her cheek, she looked carefully back at her companion.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

Chapter Text

Ann dropped onto the couch in her sitting room, and let the deep, soft cushions consume her. She was showered and in her favourite pajama set. The soft cotton shirt and shorts were a cheerful yellow, though they did little to brighten her current mood. The dinner her housekeeper had left for her to reheat remained in the fridge. 

She had smiled the entire ride home. Full of joy after her unexpected afternoon. She'd closed her eyes at every traffic stop, and saw Anne sitting across from her. Saw the mesmerizing contrast between dark, dark eyes and the widest, brightest smile that had ever been directed her way. 

Anne Lister. What were the chances? Had it been anyone else she'd have rung Catherine by now to tell her everything, but now she hesitated. She could see all their disappointed faces. Little Annie making yet again another poor decision. 

She grabbed her iPad from the coffee table. It felt wrong to learn about someone you were getting to know through a search engine, but Ann feared making a fool of herself again, if Anne did call. If she did see her again. 

Maybe she could just learn a few things about football, or about Anne's career. Leave the personal information for Anne to tell. 

For the next hour she watched YouTube spellbound, though anxiety lurked with every spectacular save. Anne was stellar, and with a career of almost twenty years, there was no shortage of footage.  

One clip, of Anne saving three consecutive penalties, she rewatched. The intensity had her holding her breath. 

Anne had no reaction after the first two saves. She dove, once to the left and once to the right, knocking the ball clear of the goal. Each time she got back to her feet, stoic, as the crowd exploded, and walked back to the sideline. 

The third save was pushed over the crossbar, Anne landed hard, but unphased. She jumped to her feet, victory secured, and roared, pounding the lion emblem on the breast of her jersey. The crowd followed suit. Teammates piled on. 

Ann closed her eyes and with a deep, stuttering breath willed herself not to cry, as she fought the hot feeling in the centre of her chest that was building. 

Anne was so talented, so captivating, surely she could have her pick of any woman. "Why would she want me?" Ann whispered to the empty room.

She tossed her tablet back on the table and, with the hopes it would calm her frantic mind, grabbed a nearby sketchbook and pencil. With a shaking hand, she couldn't bring herself to do anything more elaborate than doodle.

She saw the condensation on her pint glass, and the spaces where Anne's hand had held it. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth from those hands as they had held her own. As they caressed her cheek. One firm and warm as it had hovered over the small of her back, the other holding the car door, while Ann had settled in the back seat.

Anne had taken her number, and bending to lean on the frame of the open window had said she would call. 

"Promise," Ann had insisted, immediately feeling foolish, childish, as the word escaped her lips. 

But Anne had smiled, and reaching out took Ann's cheek in her hand, her thumb ghosting over blush and freckles. "I promise." 

Ann sank further back into the cushions and closed her eyes against her tears and anxiety. She'd promised. She'd asked if she was free tomorrow and she'd promised. Anne would keep it, she reminded herself. She knew little about her, but she knew already that Anne was steady. Anne was kind.

Ann tossed her pencil and book back on the table, and pulled her knees to her chest. She laid her cheek on them and held tight. No matter how firmly she closed her eyes, the tears escaped. No matter how much she tried to remember the company she'd kept, doubt seeped in. 

Loneliness was soon to follow. 

She'd told Catherine she was happy to be by herself, and she thought she'd managed, after so long, to convince herself. Her afternoon with Anne had dissolved any self deception. 

She took a deep breath as the screen of her phone lit up, but it wasn't what she hoped. It was only her reminder to take her evening medication. 

With a heavy sigh and wiping her eyes, she got up and shuffled to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and pulled the top off the bottle marked PM. She swallowed the pill and leaned against the counter, hanging her head. 

After another deep, shaky breath, she reached into the cupboard and extracted another bottle. The feeling in her chest was only growing, and she knew sleep was likely not to come if she didn't calm herself. 

From the kitchen she headed upstairs, each step echoing through the empty house. Her bed was just as cavernous even as the weight of the blankets settled over her. 

She clutched her pillow and allowed the tears to fall. She wasn't even sure what she was crying about anymore. Thankfully she started to feel the pull towards sleep.

"She promised. She promised," Ann repeated, her mumblings sounding far away even to her own ears. 

"She promised…" 

It wasn't quite bright when Ann opened her eyes. Her long hair had come loose from its tie and was thrown about. She groaned and pressed her face into the pillows to hide from the light. 

She could still feel the tug of her medication, and was about to give in to it again, when she heard her phone vibrate against the array of hair elastics, a water glass, and air pods on her bedside table. She groaned again and reached out for it, rolling over in the process. It took a moment to unplug it, and in her morning haze, failed to check the number before swiping, assuming only Catherine or Elizabeth would call her so early. 

"Hello? " she murmured, pushing hair out of her face with her free hand. 

"Hello you." 

The rich voice cut through the ether. Ann sat up, willing herself more awake. 

"Anne?" She asked, not entirely trusting reality. 

"Good morning," came the reply. "I've woken you haven't I? I'm sorry. I always assume incorrectly that others are up as early as me." 

"No, no," Ann was quick to assure. "I had actually just opened my eyes right before you called." 

"I bet they're the most beautiful blue in the morning." 

Ann bit her lip. When there was a slight pang she realized she must not be dreaming. "I don't know," she quietly answered, blushing. 

"You know, the strangest thing happened to me this morning," Anne started. 

"Oh?" 

"Mmm, I got up and I was standing in my kitchen and I just had a sudden craving for French toast. Do you have any idea why that would be?"  

Ann giggled, and pulled her knees to her chest under the covers. "That is very odd," she played along. 

"Isn't it? And, of course, I was missing a few ingredients. Apparently it requires loads of cinnamon, and I think what I have on hand can be considered at best a pinch." 

Ann giggled, but said nothing as Anne continued. 

"Now apparently, the best French toast nearby is at a little café in York. They bake their own brioche, maple syrup from Canada, the works. So, I was wondering, if you're available would you like to have breakfast with me?"

Ann closed her eyes tight and pulled the phone from her ear so she could let out a small squeal unheard.

"Yes," she answered, pulling herself back together. "I would really like that."

"Excellent," Anne responded. "If you like, send me your address. I can come pick you up. It's ten minutes to nine now, and it's a good forty five minutes to Yor-" 

"Come round at nine-thirty?" Ann interjected. "I can be ready by then. Do you know where Crow Nest is? The house, not the stadium," she added quickly. 

"Are you living there?" 

Ann nodded, before realizing she couldn't be seen. "Umm yes, for the moment anyways. I've only been back from school a couple months. Do you know how to get here? I'll text you the code for the gate." 

"Perfect. I do know how to get there. Those are the gates round the other side of the park?"

"Yes, those ones. I can walk down and meet you there, if you like?" 

The answer was immediate and emphatic. 

Nonsense. I'll be picking you up properly at your door at nine-thirty." 

Ann was sure she'd never smiled so bright. "Okay," she said, throwing the covers off her legs. "I better get up then, or I won't have enough time to properly decide what to wear." 

"I have no doubt you'll look beautiful." 

Ann blushed as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I hope you'll think so," she murmured. 

"I know I will." 

Ann took five minutes to shower, five minutes to dry her hair, five minutes to apply her makeup, and twenty minutes to decide on a dress. She tossed the top ten contenders on her bed, and stood frozen in her bra and knickers trying to pick just one. 

It was another lovely, warm, late summer day, she could leave some amount of skin exposed without catching a chill. She wasn't totally oblivious to how Anne had looked at her yesterday, even if she didn't quite understand why. 

She finally settled on a striped, short sleeved number that buttoned up the front and ended just above the knee, thinking giddily that Anne might enjoy a little more leg than was on offer the day before. 

She slipped on her favourite canvas shoes, grabbed a purse that coordinated, and shoving her wallet and necessities inside, headed for the front door just as she heard tires crunching on the gravel of the drive. After a minute to find her key, she stepped outside. 

"Good Lord," was all Ann heard, before  she turned around and slipped her key into her bag.

"You are stunning." 

She could only blush and smile as she nearly faltered down the steps, upon seeing Anne leaning, arms and ankles crossed, against the side of a shiny, black, sports car. 

She was dressed to match in a fitted black t-shirt and black jeans. The only colour were three red stripes on the sides of her black trainers. 

She pushed herself up off the car and walked to the bottom of the stairs, extending her hand in an act of chivalry. 

Ann took it and allowed herself to be escorted down to the gravel, her loose curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Hi," she managed, expecting Anne to step back, instead of  holding her ground and Ann's gaze. 

Anne's thumb rubbed the back of her hand, as she smiled down at her. They were close, and Ann had to squint in the morning light. 

"How are you prettier than the last time I saw you? 

For anyone else, any other set up she'd gone on, it would have been a line. Cheesy and tossed out with little sentiment, but from Anne, it came across with sincerity, steeped in honesty and affection. 

Ann looked down at their joined hands. "Really?" 

Anne squeezed Ann's fingers gently, causing her to look up. "Oh, absolutely. This hair, my God." 

Ann giggled. "I've got a lot of it. Too much I've been told. I usually wear it up or braid it, but I ran out of time this morning." 

"Too much? Nonsense. You're angelic. 

Ann bit her lip and smiled. "You look very dashing today all in black," she offered. It was true and only fair to return the compliments. 

Anne's smile was dazzling. "Thank you," she returned, gently guiding Ann towards the driveway.  She opened the passenger door with her free hand, and helped Ann settle into the low seat. 

"Sorry about the car," Anne offered as she dropped into the driver side. "I usually walk most places, and only after our call did I realize I'd let my sister borrow my other."

The engine roared to life and settled to a purr at the push of a button. 

"It's not quite me, and a bit obnoxious."

Ann fastened her seatbelt, as they smoothly rounded the sweep of the drive. 

"Oh, I don't think so. I think usually what makes these kinds of cars obnoxious are the obnoxious people who drive them," Ann replied. 

"You meet a lot of them when you're a Walker. Men who probably spent all their money on a stupid car just to show off."

Anne looked over at her as they reached the gate and stopped at the road. "Is it more or less obnoxious that this one was a gift from a sponsor? It must at least be a point in my favour that I'm not a man."

"Oh definitely," Ann laughed. "You don't have to worry." 

She paused, as Anne turned onto the road, before continuing with some trepidation. 

"Actually, I-" she faltered and tucked her hair behind her ear as an attempt to settle her nerves. "I don't think you're at all obnoxious, and I like you, and I-I wasn't sure you were going to call, and -" 

Anne glanced over, effortlessly shifting gear as they exited the roundabout. "Why would you think that? I gave you my word." 

Ann plucked at her dress and looked at her lap. "I just thought maybe you'd change your mind." 

Anne shifted into a higher gear. "Never." 

Chapter Text

The morning sun was warm and high enough by the time they reached York to sit outside and enjoy the patio. They were escorted to a table promptly, despite what appeared to Ann was a line of people already waiting. Perhaps they knew who Anne was, or perhaps she'd called ahead.

She rather liked the thought of Anne having planned their morning, and it not being quite so spontaneous. It was nice to think Anne had thought of her.

Anne had taken her hand and held on after helping her out of the car, smiling down at her as they had walked along the pavement. Now it was Ann who smiled and wrapped her free hand around Anne's arm so that she could hold tight to her as they were escorted through the bustling café.

A part of her did it for the comfort it brought, but there was something else, a new feeling, not jealousy, more borne from her anxieties, that wanted to let everyone they passed know Anne was there with her.

When they arrived at their secluded corner table, Anne pulled out her chair, only then releasing Ann's hand. The server arrived promptly and coffees were ordered along with French toast.

"I might not be the best company," Ann admitted, sipping her cappuccino. "Until I've had a few mouthfuls."

Anne laughed, stirring cream into her own cup. "I think you're excellent company, caffeinated or not. I realize I sprung this on you without much chance to get ready, but I had to see you."

A wide smile greeted her as Anne continued. "We leave this evening for an away game in Brighton on Friday, and I didn't want to wait until the weekend for us to get together again."

Ann could barely contain herself, all her fretting and anxiety dissolved like the bubbles of foam in her cup as it met her lips.

"I thought of you all evening."

"So did I," Ann admitted. "I fretted myself miserable worrying that you wouldn't call, now I feel bad for doubting you."

She looked away, but Anne reached across the small table and rested her hand on Ann's cheek. "Please don't ever again doubt my affections for you. "

Ann nodded against the warm, soft palm. "I just get into my head," she explained. "I often wonder why anybody wants to spend time with me."

Anne's brow furrowed, and she dropped her hand to rest it atop Ann's on the table. "Why would you think that?"

Ann sighed, best to be honest she thought.

"I have some anxiety issues," she confessed. "I get low, and I just… sorry," she stopped herself. "This is a lot of conversation before breakfast."

Anne squeezed her hand. "That's alright," she reassured. "I want to know you. It's best I know these things isn't it? That way we can understand each other."

Ann's smile was a tad watery, as she nodded. "It's nice to not feel like I have to hide. Thank you."

"Thanks are not necessary, don't ever feel you have to hide yourself from me."

"I'll try," Ann conceded, turning her hand over so she could entwine their fingers.

"Everything you'll need to know about me, I'm sure you can find on the internet," Anne said, with a sigh.

"Oh, I would never," Ann was quick to reply. "As far as we're concerned," she continued with a shy smile. "You're just some random woman in a shop, remember?"

Anne chuckled. "Ah, right. So you didn't look me up?"

"Well…" Ann started, looking away, and playing with Anne's fingers nervously.
Ann nodded. "I was curious, but I only watched some clips of matches," she explained.

"I really know nothing about football, and I just-"

"Wanted to see what the fuss was about?" Anne offered, winking over the rim of her cup.

Ann's blush deepened. "You look very nice in your kit."

Anne roared, her head thrown back. "Is that where your interest in football ends?"

Ann bit her lip, and looked down at their hands, as she continued to fidget. "And began," she admitted. "I think I can count the matches I've attended on one hand, and I've never watched one on the tel- Oh!" Ann interrupted herself.

"But how do you do that catch?"

Anne set her cup down. "What catch?"

Ann grudgingly pulled her hand away from Anne's and attempted to demonstrate. "The ball is coming and then you- you sort of hug it to your chest?"

Anne's face lit up with understanding. "Ah, the Danish catch it's called. I had a coach, when I was younger, from Denmark, and I would travel there often. They produce excellent keepers. Friendly people. But anyway," she got back to the point. "It's a technique she showed me, and I prefer it," she explained.

"It suits my style of play, and I find it a much more reliable way to trap the ball. When they're struck at pace, I can get my whole body behind it. Less rebounds, can't slip through your hands."

Ann nodded. "It looks like it hurts though."

Anne shrugged. "It's not bad really. I'm tough," she added with a wink.

Ann smiled, and put her hand back on the table, elated when Anne entwined their fingers once more. She sighed, squinting in the sun, and cursing herself for forgetting her sunglasses.

"Do you want to switch places?" Anne asked, rising slightly out of her chair.

Ann shook her head. "No, then you'll be suffering."

"Well come here then," Anne said, standing. Ann followed suit, barely on her feet when Anne pulled her chair around to her side of the table. They sat now, nearly shoulder to shoulder, looking out onto the street.

"Much better," Anne said, resting her hand in the back of Ann's chair.

Ann bit her lip and smiled, looking over. They were close now, and Ann needed to take a deep breath. Anne smelled like the outdoors, like fresh cut grass and sunshine.

Ann wanted to let her head drift until it came to rest on a broad shoulder, but was it too soon for anything besides hand holding? She chewed the inside of her lip, her worrying interrupted by the arrival of their breakfast.

It was as amazing as promised. Brioche grilled to perfection and smothered with maple syrup. The dollop of mascarpone and surrounding strawberries were heaven. Ann couldn't suppress the soft moan she let out.

Anne chuckled. "You approve?"

"It's amazing, and I didn't have much for dinner last night either," she confessed.

"We can't have that," Anne said, swallowing. "Tuck in, I don't want you wasting away on me," she added with a smile.

They finished in companionable silence, looking out at passersby. Anne finished and lined up her utensils neatly on her clean plate, before resting her arm, again, on the back of Ann's chair. She was close again and Ann had to remind herself to breathe as she chewed.

If she turned her head would Anne kiss her? Sticky with maple syrup and spicy like cinnamon.

Ann cut another bite. A crowded patio wasn't the place for such things, but maybe Anne would drive back to Crow Nest, and walk Ann to the door. Tell her she'd had a lovely morning and, with a warm palm on Ann's cheek, lean down and capture her waiting lips.

Ann muffled a dreamy sigh, and set her fork down on her now empty plate.

Anne dropped her arm and leaned down until their eyes were level. "Do you want another?"

Ann giggled, and when she turned her head they were so close she couldn't help but glance at Anne's lips, a motion that didn't go unnoticed.

"Let's get out of here," Anne suggested, pulling two banknotes from her pocket and dropping them on the table as she stood.

Ann followed suit, putting her purse on her shoulder, but as she turned to leave the same way they'd arrived, Anne grabbed her hand and pulled her the opposite direction.

She had no time to protest and barely time to squeak, before she felt strong hands around her waist. With no warning, Anne lifted her into the air with ease and deposited Ann onto the pavement beyond the patio's low wrought iron barrier.

Anne hopped it after her, their laughter causing a few heads to turn.

"You're mad," Ann giggled, her hand on Anne's chest to steady herself, though it did little to calm her racing heart. "Where should we go?"

Anne took her by the hand, and they started along. "How's a walk sound? We can head down to Micklegate and go along the wall a bit. I've only got to be at the stadium around four to get on the bus."

Her gait was ebullient and she swung their arms between them, smiling. Ann couldn't help the bounce in her own step.

"That sounds perfect," she replied, pulling on Anne's hand so they were closer, and she could again reach across and put her other hand on Anne's arm and hold her tight. Feeling the warm skin, and lithe muscle beneath her fingers was quickly becoming an obsession.

In the short time to the walk, Ann had suppressed at least a dozen contented sighs.

"Will you beat Brighton on Friday?" She asked, as they reached the Bar.

Anne hummed. "We most definitely should," she answered. "I don't think we'll have much trouble dispatching most teams this season, except of course Lightcliffe."

"Are we that good?"

Anne looked over, one eyebrow raised. "I can't say I approve of your flagrant use of the royal 'we'. No matter your last name, I'm claiming you for Halifax," she declared, squeezing Ann's hand and winking.

Ann grinned, and moved in closer, resting her temple down on Anne's shoulder. "I'm okay with that."

They walked to the river before turning back, Ann tucked into Anne's side until they arrived back at the car park.

Now back on the gravel drive at Crow Nest, Ann had nothing to hold onto and fell into her habit of fidgeting.

"If you still have a bit of time, would you like to come in for tea or… or something?"

Anne sighed as they mounted the steps, and checked the bulky watch on her wrist.

"I would love nothing more, but unfortunately I have to get back and pack," she replied, taking Ann's hands as they got to the top step.

"But I'll call you when we get to Brighton," she was quick to add. "Thursday we'll have training and physio, and no doubt a meeting, but I'll be sure to call again before bed."

Ann nodded and looked down at their clasped hands. "I don't want to be a bother. You- you need to stay focused."

Soon she felt her face being lifted by gentle fingers under her chin.

Anne ducked her head so they were eye level and Ann fell was captured by deep brown.

"You will never be a bother," Anne stated. "How could I focus on anything else when I'm wondering what you're doing here?"

"I don't do much," Ann admitted. "If that helps, but I know on Friday evening I'll be watching football."

Anne smirked and played along. "Oh really? You must be an avid fan, Miss Walker."

Ann suppressed a giggle as she pretended to be serious. "Oh- oh yes I've recently become very, very interested."

Anne took a step forward, her hand moving from Ann's chin to cup her face tenderly. "And what has sparked this interest, hm?"

Ann bit her lip, and turned her face up further. An invitation, though she'd let Anne decide what for exactly. One hand still very firmly held, she laid the other gently on Anne's chest

"Well I met someone recently who looks very nice in their kit," she replied, still playing along, though some of the whimsy had dropped from her tone. It was hard to giggle around the lump in her throat. Instead she swallowed, and tried to ignore how Anne's thumb was continuously sweeping across the back of her hand.

"Well I'm almost certain their level of play will increase knowing a beautiful woman is home watching, even if only for the kit."

She was still smirking as she leaned in.

Ann's breath hitched, the little sound she made, barely audible in the narrowing space between them. She closed her eyes in anticipation and soon felt Anne's lips just to the side of her own.

She pressed into the soft kiss, finally remembering to breathe. It was no more than a sturterous gasp, but as the air filled her lungs, a warmth spread with it, reaching some cold void in her chest she hadn't been aware existed.

She finally opened her eyes when Anne pulled away, but only far enough to lift Ann's hand between them, and lay a tender kiss on her knuckles.

"I'll call this evening," she reiterated. "And tomorrow."

Ann, still catching her breath, only managed to nod.

"I'll be back on Saturday. Most likely just after noon."

"Right," Ann finally managed. "Good-good luck."

"I think I used all my luck this week finding you," Anne replied.

With one last wink and squeeze of Ann's hand, she bounded down the steps to the gravel and her waiting car.

Chapter Text

<<Martin, what did you think of Anne Lister's performance last night against Brighton? >>

<<What we're all thinking I'm sure. It was a masterclass. I mean, what can you say after a performance like that? Sheer perfection. You keep waiting for a mistake, a fumble, something, but she's not going to give. It was simply dazzling.>>

<<I'm with you there. Sure she's been getting more help from her defenders this season than last, but Brighton had their chances. They're a good squad. But they could not get one passed Anne Lister last night.>>

<<Nobody could have. Truly brilliant football from the captain, and another win for Halifax.>>

Ann grinned and hopped onto the couch. Her toast and fruit and coffee were arranged on the table before her. Anne had texted to let her know she was on her way back, and would call her that evening when she was settled back in Halifax. 

They'd spoken every day since Anne had left, and every morning Ann had awoken to a message with Anne's schedule for that day and when she would be free to call. 

Her heart soared. Every straightforward, sober text was punctuated with an X. A simple gesture that left Ann dreaming of the moment they could have a proper kiss. 

After breakfast and watching the football highlights, with a skip Ann cleared her dishes and made her way back through the house to the library. 

She'd converted it to a bit of a studio now that she'd moved back. The massive windows and view of the garden made it the perfect place for her creativity.

As a child she could always be found in the library. The deep windows were the perfect place to sit with her sketchbook. It was also the best place to hide. 

Her father would get home and head straight for his office, never venturing this far back into the house. She would hear him though. Always yelling, always stomping. A glass shattering. It vibrated. It echoed. 

If she was quiet enough he would ignore her. Now, if she was silent enough, even in the rooms he seldom frequented, she could still hear him. 

But for today, he was banished. Indeed since Wednesday she hadn't heard him along any of the hallways. She heard Anne instead. 

Her laughter as they'd eaten breakfast. Her soft, smooth voice over the phone. Her shouting, just barely audible through the television, as she pointed and positioned her defenders. Her sweating and breathlessly answering questions on the pitch after the final whistle. 

Ann took her old, paint covered button up and dungarees off the repurposed hat rack she'd dragged into the room from the hall, and changed. 

She set aside the landscape she'd been working on, and lifted a new canvas onto her easel. Today wasn't a day for fiddling with light and shadows. Today was for bright colours and broad strokes. She picked up her palette and started mixing. 

In a few hours she had something bold. Yellows and golds swirled like the sunshine through the window. Swathes of deep purple, almost black. It was all action and feeling. It was Anne abstracted.

Ann tipped her head to examine it at a new angle, but was soon interrupted by the doorbell. She dropped her brushes into the jar of turpentine and wiped her hands on a rag tucked into her back pocket, before scurrying towards the entrance way. 

"James," she started, raising her voice as she got near the door. "I told you, you don't need to ring the bell jus-" 

Her thought and sentence ended abruptly as she swung the door open. It wasn't James, with papers to sign, as she was expecting. Instead, Anne was on her front steps, panting and sweaty and glistening in the afternoon sun. 

It took Ann more than a moment to recover. A moment in which the smile on Anne's face faltered. 

"I've disturbed you," she stated, looking down at Ann's bare feet and paint stained dungarees. "I'm sorry. I-" 

Ann quickly regained her equilibrium. "No, no, " she interjected. "You haven't. I'm just surprised."

Anne still seemed trepidatious despite the reassurance. "Either way, I should have called or texted not just barged into your Saturday." 

Ann shook her head, her hand shooting forward involuntarily to reach out for Anne's. 

"You can pop by whenever you like," she reassured. "Really, I'm happy to see you," she added softly, tugging gently on Anne's fingers, until she stepped closer.

When Anne finally looked up, there was something in the depths of brown that Ann glimpsed. Something that swam there, lurking, but then it was gone, and Anne's face broke into a wide, dimpled smile. 

"I ran from Halifax," she stated eagerly, squeezing Ann's hand. 

"Well first I stopped to visit with my aunt and father," she went on. "And then I thought how close you are to there-" 

"It can't be that close," Ann interjected, thoroughly put off at the idea of running five meters let alone five kilometers. 

"Close enough," Anne shrugged, picking at the sweat soaked shirt that was stuck to her body.

"But were you planning on running back? You're mad." 

Anne adjusted the waistband of her black shorts and pulled again at her shirt. "I suppose I might be," she agreed with a wink. 

Ann swallowed, her eyes lingering as the stretchy material bounced back and clung to the firm muscles underneath. She grew increasingly flustered, and soon realized she'd been staring and neither of them had spoken for at least a minute. 

"Well…" Anne started, rubbing the back of her neck, where the shorn hair of her undercut was left on display by her ponytail. "I should head-" 

"No!" Ann interrupted. 

"W-where are my manners," she finally stuttered, chiding herself. "Would you… would you like to come in? How does tea sound? " She asked, stepping aside in the doorway, but that something had crept back into Anne's dark eyes, and she shook her head.

"No, I shouldn't," she responded soberly. "You were clearly expecting someone else, and I'm all muddy and sweaty. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I was perhaps too eager in coming. I should have texted or set up something properly." 

Ann shook her head and tugged Anne forward. "Don't be silly," she said. "I'm so happy you've come, and I don't care how muddy or sweaty you are."

She bit her lip and smiled, as she pulled Anne into the house. "I think it's very sweet you running all the way here. "

Anne looked down at her black attire and mud splattered shins and trainers, as she closed the door. "I'll track in mud. I should have at least stuck to the roads." 

Ann turned around. "I don't care," she stated, as Anne toed off her trainers. 

"Oh Lord," she started, bringing a paint splattered hand up to her hair, and trying to adjust the messy bun atop her head. "I just realized I must look a fright." 

Anne shook her head with a chuckle and smiled. "You look as beautiful as ever." 

Ann blushed. "I suppose it's a good thing we like the look of each other at our messiest," she said, taking Anne's hand again and leading her through the entryway and back towards the kitchen. 

"Are you hungry?" She asked, filling the kettle and placing it on the hob. "I have loads of biscuits, and I can make toast, but that is the extent of my cooking abilities." 

Anne chuckled and leaned a hip against the expansive island. "Are you capable of spreading anything on the toast?" 

Ann bit her lip as she opened a cabinet door to reveal an array of small appliances. "Only butter and marmalade. Nutella I can only manage to eat out of the jar." 

Anne smiled, and Ann was all too aware of the dark eyes that followed her around the kitchen. "I'd better wash my hands," she said, turning on the tap and picking flecks of paint off her fingers.

She turned after drying off. "Would you like a shower?" She asked. 

Anne's eyes widened. "Good God, I didn't think… I must smell atrocious." 

 "No, no," Anne was quick to interject, especially as she saw Anne's shoulders droop. "You don't, really. Not at all. You kind of smell like the woods after it's rained," she went on, stepping closer, desperate to show Anne that nothing about her current state was at all off putting. 

"I quite like it," she added softly, grabbing hold of a rough hand and squeezing.

Anne pushed herself off the island with her hip and stepped closer, her broad shoulders back in their usual confident position. "Yeah?" 

Ann took a deep, steadying breath and nodded, unable to look away as Anne licked her lips. "Yeah," she repeated, a whisper that managed to fill the immense space of her kitchen. 

They'd never stood this close for so long. Ann saw the muscles of a strong jaw flex. She could make out where Anne's dimples would crater if she broke into that dazzling smile. 

She could see the lines around her eyes more clearly. They excited her. There was something about Anne being older. It must be that Anne was experienced in so many ways that she wasn't. Something about it all, the age, the experience, the swagger that made Ann swoon. 

She felt a finger loop between the buttons on the waist of her dungarees, and tilted her chin up. Lips parted in anticipation. She couldn't bring herself to speak, but prayed her silent signals were enough. 

Her first kiss would be in her kitchen. Not the most romantic setting, not perhaps how she had pictured it, but that didn't matter when the woman would kiss her was Anne. 

She began to let her eyes close and give into sensation, when the whistling of the kettle broke them apart.

Ann blushed and immediately turned away to gather herself, shutting off the hob, and swearing under her breath as she silenced their intruder. 

She wanted to cry as the exhilaration and emotion that had surged ebbed and left her feeling empty and unstable. She took a few deep breaths before daring to turn around. 

Anne was standing in the same place. Those dark eyes searching. 

Ann leaned back against the countertop edge and swallowed. The silence floated thick between them. An ether she couldn't seem to cross. 

It was Anne, lithe thighs rippling as she ventured forward, who moved first. She brought a cool palm to Ann's flushed cheek. "I think that whistle blew for me. I was clearly offside," she tried with a soft smile.

Ann closed her eyes against the threatening tears. "You weren't," she contradicted. "I-I.. You weren't," she repeated. 

Anne hummed in acknowledgement and swiped her thumb to catch the one tear that had spilled. "Hey," she murmured. "All in good time." 

Ann nodded and leaned forward, her face finding home in the warm crook of Anne's neck. She breathed deep to get a hold of herself. Anne smelled of leaves and earth. Like a wet morning in the garden when the fresh air was still cool and damp. 

"I've thought about kissing you, since that afternoon in the shop," Anne confessed, wrapping her arms around slight shoulders. "You were talking about art and getting so animated, then you'd catch yourself and get so shy. Everytime, I just wanted to lean in and kiss you, tell you how beautiful you looked talking about something you loved so much."

"Perhaps fancy art shops are better suited than kitchens for first kisses," she added. 

Ann shook her head, her nose brushing back and forth on Anne's skin. "I wouldn't know," she murmured, closing her eyes and at least allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of being in Anne's arms. There was a moment before she realized what she'd implied, and then Anne spoke. 

"Have you never…" she trailed off. 

Ann buried her face further in Anne's neck, eyes screwed shut, hoping she could disappear.

"It's okay if you haven't," Anne whispered against blonde hair. 

"At my age? Is it?" Ann asked, barely a whisper. "It's embarrassing." 

"Of course not," came Anne's immediate answer. "Everything happens when it's meant to happen. When we're ready for it. That kettle blew right then for a reason." 

Ann sighed. "What's that?" 

"Because this isn't the proper setting for a proper first kiss." She ran a hand up and down Ann's back. "So I'm going to head home -no" she cut off Ann's interjection before she had a chance to speak. 

"Then I'll come back at six and we'll go on a romantic date."

Ann finally lifted her head. 

"There she is," Anne said with a smile. "Are you free tonight Miss Walker?" She asked playfully. 

Ann felt the tug of a smile. "I am," she answered. 

Anne pulled away, but brought her hands up to cover Ann's that were still pressed to the center of her chest, holding her shirt. 

"Good," she said, lifting each hand and kissing Ann's knuckles in turn. "I'll be back before you know it."

Ann bit her lip, her embarrassment still lurking despite Anne's reassuring words and touches. She kept her eyes down as she asked, "Text me when you get home?" 

Anne leaned in and kissed her forehead softly. "I'll have never run anywhere so fast."

Chapter Text

'Home. It's getting chilly out,' Anne's text had started. 'We'll have a little ways to walk, so make sure you're warm. Nothing formal. Be comfortable and I'll be round to pick you up at 6 X'

A few of hours later, Ann bit her lip standing in the middle of her wardrobe.

James had found his way over, only a half hour after Anne had left, with papers for her to look over. With Elizabeth's support, she was trying to be more involved in the family's charitable foundation. She was enjoying it, making certain the much needed funds went to causes that were dear to her, that were more pertinent, and not just to the fuddy duddy institutions her aunt and the board so often favoured. It was mostly her money, well her and Elizabeth's, so she should have a say in how it was distributed.

She chewed her lip more and more ferociously as she looked through the shelves and racks of clothes. She pulled out a dark pair of jeans, and slipped them on. Stepping in front of the long mirror, she decided they were loose enough to be comfortable but tight enough to, hopefully, hold Anne's attention. She used the same criteria to pick out her jumper. It was impossibly soft and the deep blue brought out her eyes.

Warm and comfortable, and, if all worked out, kissable.

She took a deep breath before gathering her purse and fluffing her long curls one more time in the mirror.

Descending the stairs and slipping on her shoes, she wondered where Anne was taking her. What was Anne's idea of the perfect kiss?

Somewhere private perhaps. She said they had a little walk to take. Maybe that was it then. Dinner and then walk to somewhere secluded. Maybe wherever Anne lived there was a garden.

Ann imagined them walking as the sun set, her arm looped through Anne's. When the stars started shining, Anne would turn and take her cheek in that rough, warm palm she loved, and lean in slowly.

She sighed at the thought and stepped outside to sit on her top step and wait. The fresh air would do her nerves good. It was nearly six and the day was waning already. Autumn had finally arrived. She was glad for her thick jumper.

She wasn't outside long before she heard tires on the gravel. A much more practical vehicle than Anne had arrived in on Wednesday came around the sweep.

She shot to her feet. The excitement of seeing her again so soon, quashed any anxiety about what would happen this evening.

Anne was smiling as she put the SUV in park, and came around to open the passenger door.

Ann took a moment to appreciate her lean form. Her build and carriage accentuated by the white shirt tucked into slim, dark tweed trousers, her denim jacket unbuttoned and hanging open.

"Hello, that's an awfully pretty colour on you," Anne greeted her, holding out her hand to help Ann up into her seat.

Ann blushed and ducked her head. "Thank you," she whispered. "You look very handsome."

Anne looked down at her own ensemble, and wiggled her toes in her black trainers. "Thank you," she returned with a wink, closing Ann's door and making her way around to the driver's side and hopping in.

They rolled along the driveway in silence, Ann looking around the interior of the car.

"I think I might like your hot shot car better," Ann said as they reached the gates.

Anne looked over as she completed her turn onto the road. "Really? You don't like this old Defender? It was my uncle's. I found it in the back of his barn after he passed away. Spent years putting it back together."

Ann reconsidered the old car with a fresh perspective. "I suppose it'll do then," she said, looking over with a smile.

Her attention returned to their route, as they turned again. She recognized the way to Halifax, and tried to tamp down her excitation by stuffing her hands between her thighs and taking a deep breath.

"Do you need the heat turned up?" Anne asked, mistaking her actions.

Ann shook her head. "No, I'm alright," she answered, pulling her hands free again. "I just shake and fidget. I hate it," she confessed, closing her hands into fists and opening them slowly. Sometimes it helped.

Anne glanced over. "Your anxiety?" She asked.

Ann nodded, and kept her eyes on her hands, she was about to put them back between her legs when Anne reached across and took her right, bringing it to rest with her own on the gear shift.

Ann smiled and blushed, her eyes glancing down at their entwined fingers and up at Anne's face. Anne looked over then and winked.

The rumbling of the old Range Rover was the only sound, and Ann's smile broadened every time her hand was pulled along when they shifted gears.

Anne made a series of one handed turns and Ann realized they weren't headed towards Halifax anymore.

"Where are we going?" She asked, as Anne pulled onto a narrow road she would have failed to notice had they not.

Lined by tall trees with over hanging branches that scraped the roof of the car, the gravel road was clearly only for those who knew it was there.

They drove in a little ways before Anne stopped the car. "Someplace quiet, and away from any prying eyes," she answered.

"I'll just hop out here and close the gate, then it's a little ways around the property, but it's perfect. I can't wait to show you," she went on, giving Ann's hand a thorough squeeze before leaping out her open door.

Ann turned to watch through the rear window as Anne jogged back to shut the little iron gate and jog back, marvelling at her energy.

Anne hopped back in the car with a broad smile, and they started off again.

"But where are we?" Ann asked, looking about at the trees and bushes, trying desperately to see through them in the dwindling light of the evening.

"Shibden Park," Anne answered, eyes on the winding, narrow road that stretched ahead of them. "Taking the back way in. We'll pass the Hall, you'll see it out my window once we clear these trees.

Ann furrowed her brow and looked over. "Are we allowed to be here? I always thought this was private?"

Anne nodded. "It is," she answered. "Unless you own it."

Ann's face scrunched momentarily with confusion. "Wait, you own Shibden Hall?"

Anne smiled. "I inherited it from my uncle a few years back. Moved here when I was fourteen to stay with him and my aunt. There were more opportunities for me in Halifax as far as football was concerned."

"I didn't realize…" Ann started. "I always thought this was a…museum?"

Anne chuckled. "It could be. My father and aunt wouldn't even have to move out. They're practically furniture."

Ann shook her head with a laugh. "I'm sure that's not true."

"Well, maybe not my aunt," Anne conceded. "But my father wouldn't notice a tour group."

Ann giggled.

"But don't worry, I won't subject you to the museum just yet. We're going somewhere special."

Ann bit her lip, the anticipation that had ebb with the distraction of conversation, returned.

"There it is," Anne slowed and pointed out her window, as they passed the last of the tall trees.

"It's beautiful," Ann returned, leaning to peer across Anne.

She had seen Shibden Hall in pictures, of course. Anyone from Halifax and around, knew of it. She'd just always filed it away as another historical place. Dusty and lingering, and visitors paid five pounds for tours.

Her house was a museum too, she supposed. Not as old as Shibden, but still old. Shibden seemed more frozen in time, impossible to truly modernize. "Why did I never realize your family lived here still?"

Anne shrugged. "My uncle was very quiet. I doubt your family and mine moved in the same circles," she answered. "By the time I moved here, I was so busy with school and football, I didn't see much of anything besides the classroom and the pitch."

Ann nodded, admiring the gardens and lawns that now stretched out before them on either side of the road.

"The thing is historically we're neighbours," Anne continued. "Back a hundred years or so, before both of our families sold off some land for them to build roads and the like, the Walker and Lister estates abutted."

Ann smiled, and turned her face back towards Anne, her long curls swaying.

Something about that little fact made her feel warm inside. There was a comfort to it. There was so much more history here than an idiotic football rivalry. Perhaps Walkers and Listers were meant to be.

The Hall fell away behind them as the road continued through the clearing. Another wooded area was before them as they crossed over some old stonework.

Adney Bridge was chiseled into the first stone that supported the balustrade on Ann's side. She read it aloud softly, earning Anne's attention.

"Before you ask," she said. "I have no idea what an 'adney' is. I've looked through all the estate records and other than the cost of the stones and the work I've come up empty handed."

Ann hummed, and turned to look again at Anne, as she continued. "When I was younger, and I had just moved here, I was still just sorting out… a lot," she confessed.

"I would come and sit in the walkway that runs under the bridge. I'd often imagine Adney was the wife of some long gone relation. Perhaps it was some nickname. I'd never know for certain of course. But I'd imagine what it would be like to have a wife I adored so much, I'd build a bridge and dedicate it to her.

Ann looked over and then back out the window as they crossed over the bridge, her heart fluttering at Anne's admission.

Build a bridge to me.

"I did figure it all out eventually," Anne went on, winking as Ann looked back at her. She stopped the car moments later and pulled the handbrake before unfastening her seatbelt.

They were over the bridge and had driven amongst the trees. The road continued, but outside her door Ann could make out a narrow gravel walk. Before she had a chance to gather herself, Anne was leaping from the car and had rushed around to open her door.

Ann took the offered hand with a shy smile and stepped down.

"Just a few hundred metres to walk," Anne said. "Hasn't got too cold for you, has it?"

Ann shook her head. The sun was setting more quickly now than a week ago, but the autumn air hadn't quite acquired its chill yet.

"I'm alright," she answered, looking about them and back at Anne. "Are we having a picnic in the woods?"

"We'll be indoors," Anne answered with a broad smile, dimples on display as she took Ann's hand and led her to the gravel walk.

She offered no other information and they walked in silence, Anne occasionally holding aside an errant, low hanging branch and Ann content to find her favourite place again, tucked into her side.

The promised few hundred meters stretched before them, the trees on either side, the amber light of sunset trickling through the leaves, illuminated the newly turned orange and yellow tips.

As they rounded a bend, Ann came to a stop with a sharp gasp. In the little clearing before them was a small building; its construction like nothing she'd ever seen.

The white mud walls and thatched roof swept her back in time to some old world. A fairytale perhaps. Illustrations in a storybook her mother had read to her once.

"Anne…" she started. "It's… "

"Magical," Anne finished the thought. "Isn't it? Can you believe, all the years I lived here, all the hours I spent as a kid running about these woods and I never stumbled on this place. I only found out about it going through old estate papers a year ago. There was a sketch of it and plans, but I couldn't quite figure out from them where they'd put it," she explained, swinging their joined hands as she talked excitedly.

"I became obsessed. One day, last spring, I was walking our old deerhound and he darted after a squirrel. I made chase, and there it was. Had some trades people come and take a look, showed them the old sketch of it, and they got to work. Didn't even realize there were people who still make thatched roofs, but I'm glad there are."

Ann listened and watched the smoke curl out of the little chimney. It reminded her of the steam from a kettle and she began to think about their moment in her kitchen earlier that day.

She'd stopped imagining what her first kiss would be like years ago. Stopped imagining with whom and where. If she had once allowed herself to dream, to hope, for her mind to wonder, she could have never conjured up the scene before her.

She cursed her constantly simmering anxiety and raw emotions as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

She tried to brush it away, but couldn't conceal it from Anne.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

Ann looked away, but held Anne's hand and arm tighter. "I just-" she cut herself off, unsure of where to start, or whether to start at all. She soon felt lips pressed softly to the top of her head.

"Ann, nothing needs to happen here that you're not ready for. You don't have to be worried."

"I'm not," she said, looking up. "I just-I never thought something like this would ever happen to me. I never allowed myself to believe it would, and no one has ever really made me believe otherwise."

Anne was in front of her now, holding both her hands, and stooped, as she was in the habit of doing, to capture Ann's downturned gaze.

"Right now," Anne started. "With things exactly as they are. With me standing before you, in this place, I want you to picture precisely what you want this evening to be, what you want, and I will make that happen."

The words slipped past her lips before Ann even realized she'd spoken. "Kiss me."

Anne's smile spread slowly. "Now?"

Ann nodded and took a steadying breath. She closed her eyes as Anne stepped closer, and soon felt a hand on her hip and a palm against her cheek.

She pressed into it and opened her eyes to make certain it was real. Anne was there, dark eyes searching, her tongue drawing Ann's attention as it wet her lips.

And there Anne paused, only centimeters away. Their bodies were flush, Ann hands had found their way to the front of Anne's jacket, and she gripped it tight.

Anne's lips meeting hers was like a rock hitting a window. Ann broke into pieces, shards of her former self falling to the ground. The thick panes that had kept her separate from this aspect of her being and her life were no more.

The kiss was soft and chaste. Ann felt a slight tug on her lip before Anne pulled back and pressed her forehead gently to her own. They opened their eyes in the same instance.

Anne was smiling and Ann soon followed, her tongue pressing against her teeth as though that slight bit of tension would be able to contain her bubbling emotions. It wasn't, and she giggled softly, earning a chuckle from Anne.

She felt no rush, nor the flood of emotion that she was anticipating. Instead a calm she'd never known settled about her. It stifled the usual racket in her head, and wound through her veins to her heart. Her smile broadened, and still looking deep into Anne's eyes, took her first breath as a new woman.

Chapter Text

Ann was still smiling as she entered the little cottage to be greeted by the warmth and crackle of the fire in the grate. The plush couch, in the centre of the singular room, was laden with pillows. There was the smell of food, something rich and pleasant, and her eyes were drawn to the two place settings on the low table between the couch and fireplace covered by ornate silver cloches.

She hovered near the armrest, until Anne, entering just behind her, rested a hand on her lower back and insisted she sit.

"I wasn't sure of any of your dietary preferences apart from French toast and Nutella, " Anne said with a wink, walking around the back of the couch to take the farther seat.

"But back before I was anybody, when I signed my scholarship contract at United," she began to explain.

"I was training non stop, and going to school. Going back and forth to Shibden was inconvenient. I moved into the accommodations the club provided, but I was eating takeaway constantly. Not the best choices as far as my fitness was concerned. The club provided some meals, but I soon realized I had better teach myself to cook."

With that Anne lifted the cloche off of Ann's plate and then her own, releasing steam and revealing far too generous portions of creamy pasta.

"But this is the only thing I trusted myself to make with limited time and what was on hand at the Hall: cacio e pepe. We had gone to play Lazio in some tournament, when I was under 21, and I think I ate this every supper I was there."

Ann bit her lip. "It looks amazing. You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

Anne paused as she was reaching for the bottle of wine that sat between their plates on the small table. "It was no trouble whatever," she insisted, turning her head to look at Ann. "I love cooking, and it's always nicer to prepare a meal for more than one person."

"And even if it was a lot of work, you're worth it," she finished, pouring them each a glass, before setting the bottle down.

Ann unfolded her napkin and kept her eyes in her lap. "Yeah?" she asked softly, blushing at Anne's admission.

Anne leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. "Yeah," she echoed. "Now let's eat before it gets cold, hmm?"

Ann looked up, smiling bright as Anne's lips pulled away. "Please don't be offended when I don't finish," she said, picking up her fork and spoon. "I certainly didn't play football yesterday, nor did I run a hundred kilometers today."

Anne chuckled and picked up her own utensils. "And what did you do today Miss Walker?" She asked, twirling her pasta on her spoon.

Ann, who was doing the same, paused to answer. "Well I got up a little earlier than normal to watch football highlights. Very unusual for me."

Anne swallowed her first bite and nudged Ann's shoulder with her own. "Which? Getting up early or watching football highlights?"

Ann bit her lip as she smiled. "Both," she answered, before bringing her fork to her lips. She suppressed a moan that would have been considered indecent.

"Oh Lord, this is heavenly," she extolled, hiding her mouth demurely behind her hand as she swallowed.

Anne beamed. "I'm glad you like it," she said, sipping her wine. "Eat up."

Conversation continued as they ate.

Ann asked about Shibden, and Anne went into animated detail about its history.

"I'll give you the whole tour sometime. If you like?" Anne asked.

Ann nodded as she swallowed. "I would like that very much."

Anne had gotten properly animated then, her fork and spoon pointing to spots on a map before them only she could see. "We'll make a day of it. Bring the dog. Walk up to Beacon Hill. It's supposed to be sunny again tomorrow. We'll have a picnic. What do you think?"

Ann could barely contain herself. Only midway through their current date, and Anne was planning the next.

"That sounds lovely," she answered, and the smile she received in return was bright and dimpled. "But aren't you tired?"

"Tired? Of what?"

Ann looked across at her with incredulity. "From everything you've done this weekend? Don't you want to just sit down?"

Anne's laughter was hearty and filled the small space of the cottage. "I'm sitting now, no?"

Ann shook her head and laughed along. "Don't you just ever want to lay around the house and watch the telly?"

Anne squinted as she pulled her fork from between her lips, and made certain to swallow before answering. "I've never been able to really sit still for long, but I suppose," she went on, nudging Ann's knee with her own.

"If the company was smart and fun and beautiful," she added with a wink. "I might be persuaded some evening."

Ann blushed. "Well," she started, hoping her suggestion would be well received. "How about we save our walk and picnic for another day, and you can come loaf with me tomorrow."

Anne looked over and chuckled. "Loaf?"

"Yes, loaf. Like bread cooling in a tin. Just sitting about, wearing comfy clothes, wrapped in a blanket."

Anne chewed her lip as she thought it over. "And what do we do while we loaf?"

Ann shrugged. "Whatever you like really. Read. Shop online. Usually I'll get takeaway and watch a movie. I have a very comfortable couch. "

"Well then it's settled. You prepare the couch and I'll bring something for dinner."

Ann shook her head as she twirled her next bite. "No picking anything up. That's far too much effort for a proper evening of loafing. We'll have something delivered, and I have a whole wine cellar no one ever touches so don't bother with that either."

Anne laughed. "What should I bring then?"

Ann continued to shake her head. "Just yourself. I'm assuming you have joggers or something to wear?"

"I'll find something, I'm sure. Are there any other rules I need to know? You seem to take this very seriously."

Ann swallowed as she thought it over, then began to worry her lip between her teeth. "I do," she said, sobering slightly. "I need my down time. It helps with my mental health. Every so often I just need to shut my brain down and …"

Anne nodded and, reaching out, stroked her thumb across the smooth denim that covered Ann's knee. "And loaf," she finished with a tender smile. "I get that."

"You don't think me terribly lazy?" Ann asked, a worried crinkle appearing between her eyes, but it disappeared with Anne's emphatic head shake.

"Not in the least. And honestly, I could probably do with more loafing and less running, especially after a match. I don't quite bounce back like I used to." She emphasized her point by rolling her head, her neck emitting a crackle and pop.

"Oh lord," Ann cried and laughed simultaneously. "That can't be alright."

Anne chuckled. "They tell me I'll live for at least a few more seasons."

Ann smiled and turned back to her dinner. "That's good. I liked watching your match on Friday."

Anne grinned. "I liked knowing you were watching."

Ann blushed, she could feel it burning the tips of her ears. "Yeah?"

Anne bumped their knees together again. "It's excellent motivation."

They turned back to their dinner with that, bone china and linen napkins on their knees. Decorous yet informal. Romantic and familiar. Ann felt a peace settle over her. Was falling for someone not supposed to be terrifying?

Lost in her thoughts and her food and wine, hearing only the crackling fire and the scrape if silverware against plates, it took Ann a moment to notice Anne staring, a broad smile on her face.

"What?" Ann asked, swallowing and bringing her napkin to her lips. "Do I have something on my face?"

Anne shook her head. "You hum when you eat," she answered. "You've been humming this whole time."

Ann flushed furiously. "Oh Lord," she groaned, pulling up her napkin to cover her face, causing Anne to laugh louder.

"Don't be embarrassed. It's adorable. I'm glad you're enjoying it," she said, laying a reassuring hand on Ann's bouncing knee.

Ann lowered her napkin, but kept her eyes down. "I-I am. I've never been on a date that wasn't setup, so I'm really having a lovely time."

Anne smiled. "I'm happy for that as well."

They went back to their dinner. Ann set her fork down with half her plate left untouched, but she couldn't possibly eat anymore. She took up her glass, and turned towards Anne.

"My mum was a hummer," she said, settling back against the arm of the couch with her wine.

Anne, who was still eating, paused and turned as Ann spoke.

"She'd always be humming around the house."

Anne set her utensils in her plate and set it all back on the table to offer her full attention. "I knew your father, but I can't recall ever meeting your mum."

"She was less interested in football than I am-was," she corrected with a shy smile. "I doubt you'd have seen her in that circle. She wasn't going to owners' meetings or functions or anything. They were very different people."

"Your father was a force to be reckoned with."

Ann nodded, and looked down into her glass. "That's a very polite way to put it."

Anne pressed no further, and Ann was grateful.

Anne laid her arm on the back of the sofa. "He tried desperately to get me to play for Lightcliffe, years ago," she added, with a dismissive wave.

Ann smiled softly, looking up again. "You couldn't be persuaded?"

Anne puffed out a breath. "I'd played in Halifax my whole career. They were tempting offers. Probably more money than I was worth, but I'm nothing if not loyal, and United has been very good to me."

"I've heard it said my father bought championships."

Anne nodded. "I think he knew best how to spend his money and how to use it to attract good players that could win. Your sister must have been a good student. She's nabbed quite a few star players these past couple of years: Ferrall, Hobart, that girl from Scotland…" Anne trailed off searching her memory." What's her name?"

Ann bit her lip, smiling as she shook her head. "How would I know?" She giggled. "I didn't even know who you were."

Anne raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and don't think I haven't forgotten. Am I in the army? My ego will never recover."

Ann giggled, and emboldened by wine, by Anne's laughter, and the ease of their conversation, slid closer on the couch.

"I think it will be just fine," she offered.

Anne hummed, playing unconvinced, her hand that had remained on the back of the couch now played with Ann's long, loose hair that spilled over it. "I'm not so sure."

Ann felt bold. Wine was good for that.

"What if I told you how handsome you look?"

Anne feigned hurt, her brown eyes soft as she looked up from under dark lashes. "Well," she started. "It helps a little."

"Maybe if you had some way of convincing me…" Anne trailed off.

Ann slid even closer and lifted her head slightly, their lips now mere inches apart, she couldn't help her eyes settling on Anne's. She smiled.

"I think I do," she played along.

She started to take a breath, but faltered as a soft thumb brushed across her bottom lip, tugging it gently along its path.

"May I kiss you, again?"

Ann nodded. "Please," she barely managed to whisper, before gentle lips prevented any more talking.

Ann found all she could do then was moan. A sound she'd never made before. It came from somewhere within her that had remained untouched until today. Someplace chasmal in her mind and body that was capable of containing the feelings, the urges Anne was drawing out.

She quickly wrapped her arms around broad shoulders, one hand winding up Anne's neck, her fingers brushing the buzzed hair of Anne's undercut. The feeling made Ann shiver as she sank backwards on the couch. She drew Anne down on top of her, the weight causing her to moan again.

"Wait."

It was Anne who spoke, her hand on the armrest above Ann's head, the other pressing into the edge of the cushion beneath them, so she could gain enough purchase to lift herself slightly.

Ann opened her eyes, confused by Anne's pulling back. She kept her hand at the back of Anne's neck, the other pressed between her shoulder blades. Ann could feel the lithe muscles through Anne's shirt, her denim jacket having been long discarded on a chair by the door. She held tight. She felt she would shatter if Anne pulled away anymore.

"Is this alright?" Anne asked, one leg pressing between Ann's, the other hanging over the side of the narrow couch. .

"Yes," she answered, nodding to emphasise her affirmation. "Is it okay for you?" She asked, remembering suddenly her lack of experience, though slipping down and under Anne had felt as natural as breathing.

Anne nodded in turn. "Nothing else will happen," she reiterated. "Nothing needs to go farther than this. I'm happy to just kiss you silly."

Ann giggled, pulling Anne close again. "Get on with it then."

Chapter Text

Ann was properly silly by the time she got home. She pressed her back against her front door and giggled until it filled the cavernous entryway.

They had kissed for nearly an hour, until the panting and writhing forced them apart.

"Not now," Anne insisted, but pressed her face into the hot crook of Ann's neck. "Not yet, okay?"

Ann could only nod and run her fingers through, what was by then, a very mussed, ponytail.

"But please don't ever doubt how much I want you."

Ann closed her eyes at the thought, at the rough edge to Anne's voice as she murmured, wet lips against the hot skin of her neck.

She sighed, her smile unfaded, as she pushed herself off the door, discarding her shoes and purse, and making her way upstairs.

She wasn't sure why, because she was certainly in no mood to sleep, but she found herself in her bedroom. She sat, still a bit stunned on the edge of the bed, unmoving.

Taking a deep breath, she allowed the events of the evening to sink in. Even going over them one at a time, Ann began to feel overwhelmed. That perfect first kiss, dinner, more kissing, much more kissing, Anne driving her home, walking her to the door, and one more kiss, so soft and sweet, Ann had to sigh at the recollection.

Had it all really happened? She rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans and took a deep steadying breath.

It had. When she closed her eyes she could hear their easy flowing conversation. Hear their laughter. Taste the wine. The delectable food.

Now alone in her room, in her vast, echoing house, she longed to return to the little cottage, to feel Anne near once more.

She thought briefly of calling and asking Anne to return, pulling her up the stairs and slipping beneath the sheets. Would Anne want to hold her, even if she wasn't ready for anything else? Would she be enough? Anne seemed capable of waiting, but for how long? Would she understand?

She would. Ann took a deep breath. For once her anxieties were easy to tamp. Anne had told her more than once, and by her actions, that Ann had all the time she needed.

She smiled, eyes still closed, she could feel Anne's weight against her, the soft cushions against her back. Fingers combed through her curls, the other strong hand on her hip had never strayed. Its pressure, through her clothes, a constant reminder that nothing would happen without her say so.

She bit her lip to stifle another fit of giggles, before pulling her phone from her pocket.
—

"What was so urgent you dragged me out here on a Saturday night?" Catherine managed to both whine and ask. "We had a match today and I'm knackered."

Ann pulled her cousin by the hand towards the kitchen where she was making tea.

"I have to tell you something," was all she answered, pouring water into the teapot, as Catherine made herself at home on the island in front of a plate of biscuits.

"Well it's a few things really. Two things. One of them you can't be mad about, but I can't not tell you, because we tell each other everything. But you can't be mad," she reiterated. "But I got home tonight and the only thing I wanted to do was call and tell you. We've never kept anything from each other, and I want you to be happy for me, so don't be-"

Catherine got up and took Ann's hand, stifling their anxious movements as well as her rambling. "I'm not sure what it is, babe, but I promise I won't be mad. I could never be mad at you, Annie."

Ann took a deep breath and they both sat down. "Okay," she started, but hesitated, unsure how best to start.

Catherine smiled, and, sitting back down, started pouring their tea. "From the beginning."

Ann nodded. "Right, okay, so I met someone."

Catherine's eyes went wide, followed by her smile. "Who? Where? When?" She blurted.

Ann smiled back, playing with the biscuit on her saucer. "On Tuesday, after we had lunch, I went to the art store, like I told you, and she was there. She asked me for help finding a birthday gift for a friend's daughter."

"And she was ridiculously good looking, so you did of course."

Ann bit her lip and blushed. "She was, but I would have no matter who-"

"But it certainly didn't hurt," Catherine teased, stirring sugar into her tea.

Ann's blush deepened. "It didn't."

Catherine smiled over the edge of her cup. "So, have you seen her since?"

Ann nodded. "We went for a pint after the shop, and then she called me to have breakfast the next morning," she answered, her smile broadening with every memory. "And we had a date this evening."

Catherine looked at her sharply. "Then why the hell am I here? Why are you home before 10 o'clock? Why aren't you out still with your hot, new woman?"

Ann held up her hands. "Anne didn't want things going too fast," she rushed out before realizing her slip.

Catherine shook her head. "Wait your girl's name is also Ann? We are going to need more than tea," she said, sliding from her stool and grabbing a bottle from the wine rack at her knees.

Bottle uncorked, and glasses filled, she retook her place. Ann's cheeks burned with her blushes as she prepared her confession, but Catherine didn't linger on it too long.

"So her name is Ann, which is either amazing or absurd. I can't decide which at the moment. And you're taking things slow?"

Ann let out her breath. "Well, we kissed tonight," she said, looking down at her hands. "We almost kissed earlier, but she said she wanted to make it perfect for me."

Catherine reached out and laid a hand on Ann's arm. "And was it?"

Ann hummed, smiling at the memory. The path through the woods, the soft breeze, the smoke from the chimney of the cottage and Anne's lips pressing against hers so softly.

"So she's clearly also a sweetheart," Catherine extrapolated.

"She just…" Ann started, swirling her wine while she thought. "She is."

"So what does she do?"

Ann took a long sip and reminded herself that Catherine was her best friend. She would be excited for her. She always was.

"She's a footballer," Ann said, just as much to the countertop as to her cousin. When she did finally look up, she watched the dawning of realization spread across Catherine's face.

"Oh. My. God," she stretched it out, nearly a scream. "Are you dating Lister? Anne Lister?"

Ann could only bite her lip and nod, still unsure whether her cousin was excited or angry.

"For real?"

Ann nodded again, and the kitchen fell silent as Catherine took a contemplative gulp of her wine.

"Well, shit," she started, setting her glass down. "She's fit. I'll give you that one, Annie."

"You're not cross?" Ann asked, fingers playing with the stem of her glass.

Catherine's brow creased. "Why would I be cross? Because she plays for United? I don't care about that." She dismissed the notion with a wave.

Ann let out the breath she had been holding, and earned a sympathetic smile.

"Oh, Annie. Don't ever think for a second that I would put business in front of your happiness. And honestly, it's not like she's using you to get top secret information about the club. I don't think you can even name one of our players."

Ann giggled, the tension draining from her shoulders. "I didn't even know who Anne was when we met," she admitted.

Catherine laughed. "Seriously?"

Ann shook her head. "I just thought she was charming and- and handsome, and she's really nice to me, Cathy."

Catherine reached a hand across for Ann to squeeze before she went on.

"She's so patient and encouraging. I told her about my anxiety and she just-" she fumbled for the word. "She does what I need her to do to make it better. She listens when I talk and she doesn't just dismiss me. She makes me feel like I can do anything."

Catherine squeezed Ann's hand, as her cousin brushed a tear from her cheek.

"Annie, that sounds wonderful," she said, standing and putting her arms around Ann's shoulders.

"I'm happy for you. I've never met her, but I imagine that one of the best captains in English football history would be pretty good at pep talks."

Ann laughed as they pulled apart. "She is, actually. I never thought about it that way. She's just so composed and commanding, I think I gain confidence just by being around her. But…" she started with a little sigh. "I think it's too early maybe to tell Elizabeth."

Catherine nodded in agreement and refilled her glass. "Oh God, yes. Elizabeth might have some objections. Not because she doesn't want you to be happy," she clarified.

"But because she forgets it's just a game," Ann finished, all too aware of how passionate her sister was about her club.

"To be fair, Lister has prevented us from winning any kind of trophy for a few seasons."

Ann shook her head. "Not single handedly."

"Not the way your sister tells it…But we'll deal with Elizabeth later. I still want to hear about your evening. Where did you go on your date?" Catherine asked with a smile, happiness for her cousin emanating across the space between them.

Ann sighed dreamily. "It was so perfect. She took me to this little cottage on her property, and she cooked, and we talked, and we…" she trailed off, the heat rising in her cheeks.

"And you went at it like cats in heat."

"No!" Ann countered with a laugh. "No, I told you we're going slow. It was just kissing."

Catherine smirked and sipped her wine. "But it was good, yeah?"

"I don't have anything to compare it to, but it felt nice, yes," Ann answered. "I hope I wasn't terribly disappointing though. I just kind of let her take the lead."

"Oh Annie, I'm sure you were the perfect little bottom."

A half eaten biscuit flew across the corner of countertop that separated them. "Cath! I'm not- I'm not a-," Ann sputtered.

Laughing, Catherine wiped the crumbs from her shirt. "Oh sweetie, please," she said, raising a knowing eyebrow. "I bet you just laid back…"

Ann's face burned, and she hid her blush in her hands. "I did," she finally admitted, muffled by her palm. "And it was nice."

"Well, if the rumours are true, I bet it was."

Ann lifted her head. "What rumours?"

Catherine shrugged. "Just stuff that floats around about her. She was a notorious womanizer when she was young. I mean with those looks. I might not even say no."

Anxiety started to creep. "What do you think she wants with me?

Catherine scoffed. "What wouldn't she want, Annie? You're a total cutie. Forget I even mentioned it."

"Okay," Ann said unconvincingly.

Catherine shook her head. "No seriously. I'm sorry I said it. I wasn't thinking.They're rumours and that's all. The girls talk in the locker room, and I shouldn't be repeating it. I don't really know her. I'm sorry."

Ann nodded, eyes in her lap.

Catherine reached out and took her cousin's hand, with a light squeeze Ann looked up.

"One thing I have heard, is that she's been single for a while. So maybe she's been waiting for the perfect girl to come along, and from what you've said, looks like you might be the one, Annie."

Ann took a steadying breath. "It's early days," she said. "But perhaps I can hope. She is coming over tomorrow."

"You're not cooking are you?"

Another biscuit hit Catherine square in the chest.

"Rude!" Ann protested with a laugh, shaking off her doubt and anxiety. "And no I'm not. We're going to get something delivered and just hang out," she said with a shrug.

Catherine picked up the offending biscuit from her lap with a laugh. "Oh sure. Just hang out."

Ann shook her head. "We are."

"Just in case, make sure your knickers match your bra, yeah?"

Chapter Text

Ann checked over her counter full of snacks. Crisps, biscuits, popcorn, all accounted for. Beer and Pellegrino were in the fridge, and the wine cellar was only down a flight of stairs. Dinner was ordered and would be delivered promptly at seven. Years of polite ordering and generous tips would see to that.

She let out a breath and checked the clock on the microwave. Just enough time to give herself a once over in the entryway mirror. She knew well enough by now that Anne would be punctual. Which to her meant at least five minutes early.

Ann bit her lip and fixed the loose braid that hung over her shoulder, pulling out just enough curls around her face to make it look appropriately tousled and effortless.

Her feet were bare and her legs clad in tight leggings. She'd gotten them for yoga but had never actually attended the class as she'd intended.

Her pink sweatshirt was a comfortable favourite that Catherine had insisted made her look adorable yet enticing. It was long, and the soft, worn cotton just covered her bum and the top of her thighs. It was loose and hung off one shoulder slightly, the pink strap that was revealed did, in fact, match her knickers.

"She's going to lose her mind," Catherine had teased with a wink.

And Ann had to admit to herself she did look quite pretty, even with only mascara and her freckles on full display.

The old bell that was still at the front door rang out, startling Ann who was lost in her reflection.

She looked herself over one last time and taking a deep breath, skipped across to the door. She flung it open with a wide smile and was greeted by the same on the other side.

Anne's hair was tied back, a look that always made Ann's mouth go dry. She
was dressed in a navy hoodie with white stripes down the arms and 'United' emblazoned across the chest. Her fleece trackpants made a matching set along with her navy trainers.

"Will I do?"

Ann snapped her eyes up and blushed, having been caught staring.

"Yes," she finally managed, meeting Anne's eyes, before stepping aside.

Anne winked at her as she crossed the threshold and held up a gift bag she'd had hidden behind her back.

Ann sighed as she closed the door and pressed her back against the solid wood. "I told you not to bring anything," she chided.

"It's not food or wine or anything," Anne explained, holding the gift out between them. "It's for you. I couldn't come totally empty handed."

Ann sighed, but smiled at the gesture, and took the offering. "You're too kind."

Anne took a step forward, and rested a warm palm against Ann's cheek. "It's kindness you deserve."

Ann took a steadying breath and tilted her chin up. No other request was necessary.

Anne's lips met hers just as her eyes fell shut. The kiss was soft and languid, and Ann melted against the door, her head thrown back, as her hands gripped tight to strong shoulders.

"Is it crazy that I missed you?" Anne asked, pulling away slightly.

Ann shook her head. "I missed you too."

They smiled in unison, foreheads touching before Anne took a step back, and, as she finally took Ann in, shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh," Anne breathed with reverence. "You are pretty."

For the first time in her life Ann felt seen, but not scrutinized.

Anne tugged at the baggy cuff that covered Ann's free hand, and pulled her off the door and into a pirouette that made Ann giggle.

"I'm certainly regretting that gift. Perhaps I'll just take it back."

Ann finished her spin under Anne's arm and clutched her present to her chest. "What? No, you can't."

"Well then you must promise me you'll save it for some other evening."

At that, Ann opened the bag and pulled out her gift with a laugh. "Oh, but we could match!" she exclaimed, dropping the bag to the floor and holding out her new hoodie and trackpants. "I love them!"

She held the top against her, and smiled down at the 'UNITED' across her chest, before directing her enthusiasm back up at Anne.

"Thank you," she said, stepping forward and kissing Anne's cheek. "Would it really bother you if I changed?"

Anne shook her head. "Of course not, but you do look so beautiful as you are."

Ann blushed. "Well maybe I'll save them for when you're not here, and I'm wishing you were."

Anne smiled, and leaned down to give her a soft kiss. "Hopefully that won't be too often."

Ann bit her lip. "I hope so too," she said with a slight smile, folding up her gifts neatly and placing them on a side table in the hall.

Anne turned from her then, and was looking around the entryway.

"This house is magnificent," she stated, taking a few steps down the hall, and looking at the art on the wall. She pointed to the lady in the painting. "Who's this?"

Ann giggled. "I have no idea," she answered, taking Anne by the hand. "Would you like a tour? I'll be honest, I go into like four rooms in the whole house."

Anne laughed and allowed herself to be dragged along. They peered into a room just off the entry.

"I think this was a drawing room, or something. I've never seen anyone in here in my life."

She pulled Anne next down the hall away from the front door. "This is the library straight through here," she opened the door so they could see in. "I do my painting here. I like the light."

Anne nodded and they paused in the doorway. "You'll have to show me your work someday when we have ample time."

"Yeah?" Ann asked.

"If you want to show me that is. I'd love to see it."

Ann blushed, and shook her head in disbelief. Noone ever asked to see her work, not since her mother had passed away.

She smiled with her lip between her teeth, and fought back the giddy feeling that coursed through her veins by resuming their tour.

"Round this way if you go left there's a bunch or rooms with more chairs and art and sofas," she explained. "It's like all people did back then was walk around the house and sit in different rooms to pass the time."

Anne chuckled. "You're probably right. But it's a beautiful house."

Ann squeezed Anne's hand, as they continued.

"There's a dining room through there, I've never dined in, and then the kitchen at the end of the hall. It's the only really updated room in the house."

"Nothing's been really modernized except for plumbing and electricity of course, and toilets and things. My mum put a lot of effort into making the house somewhat as it would have been," she explained as they passed the staircase and through yet another room.

Ann smiled as she reached a door on the far wall and held it open. "This is still my favourite room. I spent a lot of time in here growing up."

Anne looked around in awe. "I can see why."

Ann leaned her back against the door frame, as Anne passed through.

"I would pretend I was in another land, surrounded by these birds and flowers and trees."

Anne who had begun walking the room and examining the mural wallpaper, turned towards her with a broad smile. "It's unbelievable."

Ann walked towards her. "I would hide in here and paint. Try to copy bits of it. It still blows me away that someone went to so much effort to make wallpaper."

"It's original?"

Ann nodded. "I remember a little bit of it getting restored when I was young, but yeah it's always been here. What do you think it cost in 1775?"

Anne smiled, but pretended to consider the question in all seriousness. "Back then probably two pounds, seventeen shillings and sixpence."

Ann giggled, and took Anne's hand in her own again, tugging her across the room to a bit of the paper obscured by a stand holding a vase. She lifted the vase and pointed to one tiny spot on the wall.

"I put that paint on it, when I was eleven or so, I was trying to mix a colour just right. No one ever found out," she whispered, putting the vase back.

Anne took her by the waist, and pulled Ann close. "You're a real rebel, Miss Walker, and here I thought I'd found some sweet girl, but you're clearly trouble."

Ann sighed and allowed herself to be swayed around the room to whatever music was playing in Anne's head. She put her cheek on Anne's shoulder and sank against her.

"I used to come in here and pretend I was a fancy lady, with a big puffy dress and my hair all done up, and I would sit on the sofa and pretend I had callers and whatever else real ladies did back then."

Anne hummed, her lips pressed against soft, blonde hair. "I'd have walked from Shibden for tea and sat with you."

Ann smiled. "In a frilly dress and ribbons?"

Anne scoffed. "Could you imagine? Actually, always fancied myself more of Heathcliff type."

Ann nuzzled her nose against Anne's neck as they continued to sway. "No," Ann countered. "He's so mean and jealous. You're sweet."

Soft lips pressed against her temple and Ann sighed.

"Am I? My squad would disagree. You must be making me soft Miss Walker."

Ann felt suddenly courageous. Perhaps it was Anne's proximity, Anne's easy affection. Admitting Ann had any kind of power over her.

It made her feel special. It made her feel worthwhile. And here, in the room, she'd so often hid herself away, pretended she was someone else, or somewhere else, for once she wanted to be exactly who she was. She didn't want to hide. She didn't want to hold herself back anymore.

She let herself sink further against Anne's solid frame. She was no longer frightened.

"Anne?"

Anne hummed in response.

"I… I really like you."

Anne pulled back slightly to look down at her, but Ann could still feel the press of warm palms through her sweater.

"I really like you," she returned.

Ann blushed at the sincerity, and returned her cheek to Anne's shoulder, smiling against her neck, before pressing her lips to the soft skin.

"Would you like to spend the night?"

Anne's eyebrows raised at the suggestion. "Are you sure?"

For an answer, Ann merely nodded and tilting her chin up, offered another invitation which was promptly accepted.

Chapter Text

The couch was antique and rigid. The cushion barely offered any comfort to Ann's knees where they dug into it on either side of Anne's thighs. The couch's construction seemed to have no ill effect on Anne. She sat up tall, tugging Ann close by the hips, her thumbs having found their way under Ann's sweater. They stroked across the smooth, pliant flesh, as Ann squirmed in her lap.

They pulled apart for a moment, Anne's mouth moving down to Ann's chin and her neck.

Ann panted, one hand in Anne's hair the other gripping the back of the couch. She moaned softly with every press of Anne's lips.

"Is this alright?" Anne's raspy question against the shell of her ear made Ann shiver.

She wanted to say that nothing in her life had ever felt so right. That nothing could be wrong when Anne was touching her, lavishing her with compliments and affection. When Anne was pausing to make sure she was comfortable, when Anne was smiling at her, holding her, making her feel desired but never possessed. Making her feel safe.

But instead Ann just nodded and hummed with delight, as Anne placed a kiss just behind her ear.

"God, you're soft," Anne murmured, nuzzling Ann's neck and the wispy curls that had escaped her braid. Her strong hands kneaded the yielding flesh of Ann's hips encouraging her rocking and squirming.

"You're so beautiful," Anne continued, pulling them flush, one hand finally under Ann's sweater completely, its warm palm pressing into the small of her back.

Ann tipped her head back in offering, and exploration continued down, before travelling to Ann's exposed shoulder.

Ann moaned, when she felt the slick slither of Anne's tongue against her skin. "Oh," she breathed, trembling in Anne's firm hold.

She'd been bold and been rewarded. Anne liked her, and had told her so. Anne liked how she looked, but more than that Ann felt wanted. It thrilled her. She'd remained uncertain of how quickly she could undo the knots inside she'd spent years tangling, but when Anne looked at her and kissed her and touched her, she felt them loosen.

Her proceeding whimper transformed into a groan when the sound of the bell rang through the thick air that surrounded them.

"That'll be dinner," she managed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "We probably should eat."

Anne chuckled against her shoulder, before withdrawing her hand and sitting back against the couch. She looked up and smiled, running her hands over Ann's thighs.

"Here I was already enjoying a meal."

Ann nearly gasped at the innuendo. She could feel the blush creeping up her face.

Anne chuckled, and took burning cheeks into her hands. "Oh, you've gone red, I'm sorry," she said, lifting up to offer a soft kiss. "That was crass."

Ann shook her head. "No, no," she insisted. "It wasn't. I'm just not used to- to talk like that. Certainly not about me."

Anne pressed forward further, wrapping Ann tight in her arms. "Well, I'll be more delicate in future, but I will make certain you know you're the most delicious thing."

Ann shook her head but smiled. "Yeah?"

"Delectable. Luscious," she went on, punctuating each with a quick kiss, causing Ann to giggle. "Mouth watering."

The bell rang out again.

"Positively scrumptious," Anne added, hoisting Ann from her lap and on to her feet.

Ann squealed at the unexpected display of strength and the fingers that dug into her sides. She steadied herself against Anne's solid form, briefly unsure of her legs.

Anne winked, and took her hand leading them towards the door. "What's for dinner then?"

Ann recovered herself as they made their way back to the entry. She couldn't contain her smile as she swung their joined hands.

"I always order pizza on Sundays," she answered, regretfully dropping her hold on Anne as she headed towards the door. "I hope that's alright?"

Anne smiled. "Perfect," was her reply as she loitered, looking at some of the paintings nearby, while Ann opened the door.

She turned back around moments later three large boxes in hand.

"Good Lord, how much do you think I eat?" Anne asked with a chuckle, taking the boxes from Ann and following her to the kitchen.

"Well," Ann started. "I saw what you ate last night. I didn't want you to be hungry."

Anne set the boxes on the island and surveyed the array of snacks on the counter. "I definitely won't be. This seems like far too much effort for loafing," Anne quipped.

Ann shook her head. "It was no effort. Waitrose delivers."

Anne feigned fealty with a slight bow. "Waitrose? Well excuse me your majesty."

Ann playfully slapped her shoulder, as she stepped past Anne for plates. "Stop it. Now follow me with those," she said, pointing to the boxes, she stopped to grab a beer and bottle of Pellegrino, before heading back out of the kitchen through another passage.

"Does this house just keep going?"

"This is an addition. There were servant's quarters at one time that weren't connected to the main house. This passage was built and those rooms were all redone. The only rooms that were truly updated are the kitchen and then these ones back here," Ann explained, leading them to a small room with a large, plush sectional in the centre. It faced a blank wall save for a massive television.

"This was our playroom, growing up," Ann went on. "We were always in here, when we were little, but big sisters lose interest in the things you share and games you play, far too quickly it seems."

Anne followed her to the sofa and set their dinner on the table before it. "Are you not close?" She asked, taking her seat next to Ann.

Ann shrugged, and began flipping the boxes open. "Not so close as we were even just before our parents passed away. Elizabeth is always so busy now. I don't get to see her as often as I would like."

Anne accepted her plate laden with pizza, and the beer set before her. They ate for a few moments in silence.

"Are you close with your sister?" Ann asked after finishing her two slices, and setting her plate aside.

Anne swallowed and shook her head.

"Marian and I get on well enough now, but we never had much in common. We each had our own friends and interests. Which makes it easier I suppose to go our separate ways."

Ann nodded. "Elizabeth and my cousin, Catherine, are really the only friends I had growing up, or now," she admitted, with a sad smile. "You probably have loads of friends."

Anne set her own plate on the table and picked up her bottle, before taking a deep breath. "Not so many anymore," she said.

Ann tipped her head trying to understand the meaning, but Anne continued.

"You really haven't read anything about me?"

Ann shook her head. "I told you I wouldn't, but this seems like a conversation that requires snacks and more alcohol."

Anne's chuckle lacked its usual mirth. "You're not wrong there."

Ann reached across the cushion that lay between them, for once in their burgeoning relationship she was the one to offer comfort. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want."

Anne polished off her Peroni. "I suppose I'd rather tell you things than you finding them out some other way."

Ann stood abruptly, holding her hands out for Anne to grasp and follow. "Come on then. We need crisps and a trip to the wine cellar."

They returned with crisps and popcorn, as well as a bottle of red Anne was still insisting they shouldn't have open.

"Do you know how much that costs?"

Ann sat with her legs folded under and shook her head. "Not a clue. There was another, but my cousin, Cath, and I drank it last Christmas. That's why I know I like it. And it's open now, so we better drink it and enjoy. And if you like wine and stuff, you can take whatever. I don't really drink much of it and I don't know a thing about it."

Anne sat down shaking her head. "I could never. Ann that bottle alone is over five thousand pounds. Some of the labels down there are very rare."

Ann could only shrug. "I suppose it would kill you to know Cath and I drank it right from the bottle."

Anne feigned a shot to the heart. "Sweet Lord.

Ann giggled. "We forgot glasses and were too lazy to get up."

Anne could only shake her head. "Well thank you for dusting off your decanter," she ribbed, settling back with her glass in one hand, and her other arm slung across the back of the couch.

Ann soon settled against her, her own glass in hand, and her head on Anne's shoulder. "So tell me how someone so clever and interesting has no friends."

Anne let out a long breath. "Well, I told you how I ended up a footballer, and moved to Halifax and started playing at United."

Ann nodded and waited for her to continue.

"I worked hard, and people noticed. I played second fiddle on the senior squad for the first year, didn't play one game. The next season, I finally got the chance to prove my mettle. The season after that I was the starter, we were winning, I was on the rise, getting more and more attention, and then," she paused.

"I was outed," she finished with a sigh.

Ann looked up at her, blue eyes filled with sympathy. Her free hand rested on Anne's thigh with a squeeze.

"Things were different then, that was nearly twenty years ago. I lost sponsors. It was hard. The team stuck with me, and the Norcliffes, who own the club."

"No wonder you've been so loyal to them."

Anne nodded. "Their daughter, Isabella, played with me on the junior squads until she got injured when we were under nineteen. We dated very briefly, but we make better friends, so the Norcliffes definitely did not care that their new star player was a lesbian."

"I'm still sorry you had to go through that," Ann offered.

Anne took a long sip of her wine. "It was less than ideal."

"Were your friends upset that you were gay, is that why they…" she trailed off.

Anne shook her head. "No. That was my doing. I was out to almost everyone close to me," she explained.

"I didn't exactly keep it a secret, not with how I look, and how I dress. People had already made assumptions I'm sure, but the story in the tabloids was salacious," she said softly, letting out a long breath.

Ann frowned and tucked in as close as possible, running her hand along Anne's thigh. She hoped the gesture was comforting. "That's terrible," she offered. "How old were you?"

Anne took another sip. "I'd just turned twenty-three. The things in the article made it clear someone who knew me had spoken to the press. I never could figure out who," she continued with a shrug. "So I started keeping everyone at arm's length."

Ann tilted her face up to kiss Anne's cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Anne turned until their lips touched softly. "Thank you. It wasn't fun, and my girlfriend, at the time, couldn't handle it. So she left before anyone could link us."

Ann shook her head, she ached for the girl Anne had been, and for the pain of enduring memories. "I would never, ever be upset if- if anybody speculated we were together, or whatever else," she offered, earning a smile before Anne pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"In fact," Ann went on. "I hope you don't mind, but I told my cousin about us."

"Oh really? Is that your same drinking buddy cousin?"

Ann giggled. "We do get a bit spirited, me and Catherine, yes," she answered, sobering at the sudden realization that she may have overstepped.

"You don't mind I told her, do you? She's my best friend, I tell her everything. She won't tell anybody."

Anne shook her head and wrapped her arm around Ann's shoulders, rubbing her thumb against the smooth skin left exposed by her baggy top.

"Of course it's alright," she assured, pulling Ann close. "We have been out already in public together, and we weren't particularly discreet. I don't keep myself a secret anymore. I don't put myself out there, but I also don't hide away. And besides, why would I not want to brag to the world about you."

Ann blushed, and nuzzled her cheek against Anne's shoulder. "Yeah?"

Anne gave her a squeeze in turn. "Absolutely. I've already mentioned to my aunt I've been seeing someone very sweet and pretty, but don't worry I won't subject you to the family quite so soon."

Ann sighed. "I'm still not sure how I'll bring up the subject with Elizabeth. She's so…" she trailed off in search of the word. "Fanatical about her club. She'll no doubt take it, somehow, as a betrayal." she ended with another sigh and an eye roll.

Anne chuckled. "Well, let's keep the world at bay for a little while longer," she said, tilting her face towards Ann and giving her a soft kiss. "I'm enjoying having you to myself for the time being."

Ann bit her lip as they pulled apart and snuggled in as close as she could. "Me too."

Chapter Text

Pizza reheated and glasses refilled, they settled back on the couch and finished dinner by the soft glow of the television.

Ann had stumbled on a marathon of Kath and Kim and was currently near tears as she laughed through the third episode.

She'd sat back during the second, resting herself against Anne's arm that was draped across the back cushions.

They were now laid down fully against the arm of the sofa, legs tangled and outstretched. Ann, with her head on Anne's chest, could hear the rumble of laughter.

"God, I haven't seen this show in forever. Tib was obsessed with it years ago, and would have it on occasionally when I was around."

Ann wiped a tear away. "It's amazing. Liz and I watched it all when it first aired, she even tried out for the school netball team."

"Lord," Anne groaned. "I couldn't imagine playing a sport where I had to wear a skirt. Ridiculous."

Ann chuckled. "No. That definitely wouldn't suit.

By the start of the fourth episode, Ann was no longer paying attention, as Anne's dexterous fingers combed through her hair, occasionally scraping her scalp. She was in a stupor by the time it ended, and let slip a soft moan.

"Is that nice?"

Ann hummed and nodded, reaching out to mute the television and pressing her cheek further against Anne's chest. "It's heavenly," she murmured. "I could fall asleep if you keep it up."

Soon enough she felt the tie at the tip of her braid unwound, and her hair pulled loose.

"I hate to repeat myself, but you are so beautiful," Anne said softly, one hand still combed through Ann's hair, the other now rested against her cheek.

Ann blushed and shook her head, burrowing her face further into the soft fabric of Anne's sweater.

Anne let out a soft hum of dissatisfaction. "You're going to have to stop blushing at every compliment. I have no intention to stop."

Ann turned her head slightly so she could speak. "I thought I was getting better," she sighed. "I'm just still not used to it. It still takes me by surprise. Not just the compliments, but any attention really."

Strong arms wrapped around Ann tight. "You have all my attention," Anne said, kissing the crown of Ann's head softly. "Even when we're apart. I just have to close my eyes and there you are."

Ann tucked her arms underneath her chest, and allowed herself to be cocooned in Anne's embrace and affection.

"I think about you too," she admitted. "I've thought about nothing but you since we met, and it scares me. I worry I'll scare you away. I worry that I-" she took a steadying breath.

"I think I've always had a lot of feelings, and nowhere to put them. I worry I'll scare you off. That I'll be too much in some ways, and not enough in others."

Anne kissed her head again gently, her lips lingered against Ann's hair as she replied. "I think it's perfectly natural to worry about things at the start of something. I worry too. Worry I'll come on too strong. Worry you'll start to think I'm too old for you."

Ann raised her head. "I don't- I won't think that," she countered. "And- and I like when you turn up on my doorstep, even all sweaty and muddy. And I like that you've really left me no reason to doubt your affections. I only doubt my ability to hold on to them."

Anne pulled Ann up, until her cheek was on her shoulder and they could look each other in the eye. "You have them," she said in all earnestness. "For as long as you want them."

Anne sealed her declaration with a soft, languorous kiss. The soft moan Ann soon emitted stoked the embers that perpetually glowed between them into flame and then inferno.

Anne's hands moved to their favourite place at her hips, squeezing the soft flesh and encouraging Ann, as she whimpered and undulated, seeking friction and a never before experienced satisfaction.

They parted, panting. Ann lifted herself up, palms on Anne's chest, fingertips against sharp collarbone that could be felt through the heavy fabric of her hoodie.

A thigh, just as firm as the muscles beneath her hands, pressed up between Ann's thighs. She moaned and bore herself down against it, her body acting without direction.

"Anne," she managed between panting breaths, her loose hair falling around them. A curtain bottling in the charged air and heat. "Don't stop tonight."

Anne paused as she was kissing along Ann's outstretched neck. "Don't stop what?"

Ann hummed, as the kisses began anew. "Any of it."

Anne paused again. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Despite the breathlessness of her acquiescence, Ann managed to sound firm.

Anne pulled back until their eyes met and Ann bit her lip, hoping her certainty was clear in her gaze. A hand cupped her cheek, the thumb running back and forth tenderly.

"I don't have a problem with waiting."

Ann nodded. "But I don't want to," she murmured, pressing their foreheads together. "You know, I never really imagined it, until I started imagining it with you."

How Anne rose from the couch in that instant Ann would never know, but the strength Anne seemed to possess only made her desires quicken.

Her legs around slim hips, and her arms around broad shoulders, Ann's moan turned to laughter as she was carried from the room.

"Don't carry me up all the stairs," she insisted, when they bumped against the edge of the kitchen entrance.

Anne pressed her there against the wall, and Ann sighed at the pressure that was wrought between her spread legs.

Anne began kissing her neck anew, and strong hands squeezed her ass in reply to her breathless sounds. Everytime Anne pressed forward, she tilted to meet her.

They rutted shameless against the wall, Ann panting and sighing. The sound of Anne's more primal grunting trickled up to her ears, causing her to shiver.

When she was about to insist they continue upstairs, the painting on the wall next to Ann's head, bounced from its perch after a particularly forceful thrust and hit the floor with a crack.

Anne pulled back shocked and abashed. "Oh Lord. Please tell me that wasn't something priceless.?

Ann's laughter soon filled the hallway. "Oh, who cares," she giggled. "Put me down you brute and come along."

Anne did as she was told and taking her hand, Ann led them upstairs.

They crashed through her bedroom door, and suddenly, as Ann flicked on the lights, she felt the weight of the moment descend upon her. She gulped and closed the door, pressing her back against the dark wood.

Anne was looking around at the ornately decorated space, the paintings, some of them Ann's, the furniture, and finally her eyes landed on the antique bed, before shifting back to her with a wide, dimpled smile.

She surged forward then, and Ann's palms slapped against the door before she recovered herself, and brought them up to hold Anne's face between them.

Her fingers wrapped around the back of Anne's neck, ensuring their lips would not part soon. She brushed the close shaved hair, it felt more bristly then the previous night. Ann moaned and the sensational and the thought of Anne getting it cut again so soon just for her.

A thigh pressed between her legs and she moaned again into their kiss, finally forced to pull her lips away as she thrashed her head to the side, panting and near delirium.

Anne's hands were under her sweater now, fingers pressing into the pliant flesh at her sides, thumbs running over the smooth skin of her belly.

"Can I take this off?" Anne asked breathlessly, pulling at the hem of Ann's sweater.

Ann nodded emphatically, but when it was pulled slowly over her head and discarded onto the floor behind them, she became less certain.

She had seen a clip of Anne, during a match, wiping her face with the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up and displaying a flat, muscular stomach that had made Ann groan.

She was reminded now of that scintillating four seconds, and that her physique didn't quite compare.

So as Anne pulled back to look at her, Ann brought her hands down to cover her stomach.

"Hey," Anne murmured, stepping close once again, and taking Ann's hands in her own. "Don't do that. You're gorgeous."

Ann dropped her forehead to Anne's shoulder. "No one's ever…" she trailed off. There were too many ways to finish the sentence.

Anne wrapped her up in a warm hug. "Darling, it's alright."

Ann's voice was muffled as she buried her face into Anne's sweater. "Have I ruined everything?"

Anne shook her head and kissed the crown of thick blond girls just beneath her lips. "No, Ann, you haven't. You haven't."

"You are gorgeous, Ann," she reiterated, tracing patterns across the back of bare shoulders with her fingertips. "And you don't need to hide from me, but if you want to stop, we can stop. If you want to talk about it, we can just slip into bed and do that too, and nothing else needs to happen."

Ann was shaking her head while Anne spoke.

"I don't want to stop," she mumbled against Anne's neck. "I just… I got self conscious. I don't look like you. I don't exercise apart from the occasional walk. I'm all squishy in places. I'm not fit the way you are."

Now Anne was shaking her head. "Good thing for that, imagine all these angles knocking against each other. We'd both be nothing but bruised come morning," she joked, with a soft laugh and equally soft kiss pressed to Ann's hair.

"You're perfect Ann. Just as you are. You're truly a dream to me."

"Even the squishy bits?"

Anne chuckled and to prove her point let a hand drop down to give Ann's bottom a soft squeeze. "Especially the squishy bits."

Ann released a little squeak and a laugh. "Okay."

"Let me show you."

Ann sighed. "I'd like that."

Anne reached out beside them and flicked off the lights. The room was now only illuminated by the soft rays of the half moon through the sheer curtains.

"Does that help?" Anne asked.

Ann nodded and turned her face up, allowing Anne to claim her lips. The kiss was languid, filled less with the passion and hurried excitement of their journey upstairs, and more with a measured tenderness and adoration.

Anne's kisses felt like a promise, that Ann, in turn, returned with parted lips.

She moaned and pulled her arms out ffrom between them, wrapping them around Anne's waist and letting her hands slip under the baggy hem of Anne's sweater.

The skin was warm against her palms. Soft but only on the very surface. As Anne leaned in to deepen their kiss, the muscles rippled and Ann felt a similar frisson run down her own spine.

They pulled apart slowly, Ann's bottom lip tugged by Anne's before it was released. She moaned at the sensation, her mind too distracted to notice she'd been steered during their kiss towards the bed, until the back of her legs met the edge of the mattress.

Anne was holding her hands now, and she gave them a light squeeze. "Still with me?"

Ann nodded, and to confirm her consent slipped the strap of each bra from her shoulders.

Anne needed no other answer. Her own hand snaked up Ann's back and with a deft flick the lace obstruction fell to the floor between their feet.

Ann blushed and fought the urge again to cover herself. She was aware of the attention her breasts attracted. It had never been the kind she'd wanted. She'd always rounded her shoulders and caved herself in.

But Anne's expression was different. It wasn't lewd or licentious. She looked at Ann in awe and with reverence, and when she spoke Ann believed her.

"Sweet Lord," Anne breathed, her hands settling on Ann's bare waist. "You are exquisite."

Ann blushed and pulled her lip between her teeth. "Your turn," she whispered, unsure of her voice, but finding some courage, as she reached for the bottom of Anne's sweater and tugged.

Anne acquiesced with a dimpled smile, pulling it and the t-shirt beneath in one smooth stroke.

It was Ann's turn to be awestruck. Anne's physique was certainly all hers wasn't, and, seeing it now before her, she became more assured in her own self.

Their bodies did seem to go together.

Where Anne was broad, she was slight. Where Anne was firm, she was soft. Where Anne was planes, she was curves.

Ann closed her eyes, when Anne pulled them flush and began kissing back down her neck and shoulders. She sighed, becoming more and more aware that there was something else between them. A force that was always present. Something that she didn't quite understand.

She was shifting and softening, while Anne grew unwavering and firm.

When Anne spoke, hot and thick, against her skin, it wasn't a request. "Get in the bed."

Ann nodded, and turning in Anne's arms, pulled back the covers and sheets. She took a shaky breath and turned back around, before sitting on the edge of the bed she looked up.

There were no more words.

She laid back. That force had grown more pressing and heady, and she wanted, now more than ever, to give in to its power.

Ann closed her eyes. She succumbed to it, laying back against the pillows, and Anne followed, covering her, fitting between her spread thighs.

And as Anne's lips met her own, and the weight of her body pressed her against the mattress, Ann understood. The force that drew her back was the same that pulled Anne forward. They collided, she the sand and Anne the wave.

She moaned into their kiss. Pressed into her mattress, against her pillows, she circled her arms around Anne's shoulders and gave in.

Anne kissed down her neck, her shoulders, her descent paused to suckle at her breasts until Ann was whimpering and writhing.

"You're glorious," Anne panted against now slick skin, before taking Ann once more into her mouth.

Ann moaned loudly, her back arching off the bed. It was so much and still not quite enough.

"Anne…" she breathed, lifting her hips as Anne began to slowly drag down her leggings and the scrap of lace beneath.

Anne sat back only briefly to toss them aside, and then she was on her once more, kissing down Ann's belly, hands on the back trembling thighs, lifting and spreading.

Her path became clear and a brief stab of anxiety punctured Ann's haze of need.

"You-" she started, cut off by a breath moan as Anne's tongue slithered against the inside of her thigh.

"You don't have to do that," she finally managed, lifting her head from the pillow. Anne looked up from below, her back rippling in the moonlight, and her face half in shadow, but Ann could see the bright, lecherous smile that spread as their eyes met.

She said nothing and dipped her head, running just the tip of her tongue through the sopping cleft beneath her.

Ann gasped. "Oh God," she managed, one hand gathering the sheets, the other tangling in Anne's hair.

She could manage nothing else coherent. Anne started slow and deliberate, drawing out moans and gasps. The lascivious sounds coming from between her legs only made her more frenzied.

Anne was devouring her, and she would happily be her meal.

"Anne. Anne," she repeated, unsure of when she'd even started the chant.

Her legs trembled. She tried lifting off the mattress, her back arching, but Anne's arms were looped around her thighs, strong hands pressing at her hips to keep her still.

With one last gulp of air, she succumbed again. To the force, to Anne, to pleasure. She lost all sense of time, all sense of self even. Her existence was funneled into one point of pleasure. She, and everything,was that and that alone.

She screamed, her back lifting further, pressing herself wantonly against Anne's eager mouth, until she fell back shuddering and panting.

"Come here," she heard herself say, grasping at Anne's hair, one finger looping around the strap of the sports bra she was still wearing.

Ann pulled Anne up to her, greedily wanting her lips, wanting her weight to bear down on her, to calm her, comfort her.

She was still quaking and whimpering when they parted, clutching Anne around the neck and shoulders, her legs around narrow hips, keeping her close.

They pressed their foreheads together. Ann closed her eyes until she could take a deep breath.

"I-I never…"

Anne smiled, and kissed her softly. "Is it what you imagined?"

Ann took one last shaky breath and shook her head. "I didn't really…" she started, with a smile. "I didn't imagine that. I thought you would…" she trailed off, blushing and hiding her face in Anne's shoulder.

Anne kissed her temple. "We don't have to now. That can wait."

Ann was shaking her head. "I want it to be you. Now," she whispered, taking Anne's face between her hands. "Please, but-" she paused. "Will it hurt?"

Anne kissed her tenderly, their foreheads still pressed together. "Not if you're ready," she assured. "We'll go slow."

Anne rolled slightly sideways, resting on her elbow, her free hand, caressing down between Ann's breasts, over her stomach, but stopping to rest on the top of her thigh.

"Ann."

She barely heard the tender application. She turned her head to find Anne looking at her with steady but soft eyes, and she understood the request. One last confirmation.

Ann kissed her, bringing her hand across to caress Anne's cheek. "I'm yours," she whispered, their lips still touching.

Her eyes closed when Anne's fingers touched her finally. They rubbed gently, sliding over where her mouth had just been. She was ready in all ways. Copious wetness nearly trickled from her, and Anne gathered it on the tip of her finger.

And just then Ann remembered a line from a book she'd read in secret as a girl. Discovering herself, she'd hidden it in her book bag, under a jumper she never seemed to need.

Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea…

Fear no more. Her sigh, after a deep breath, turned into a sharp gasp. And with the gentle incursion of Anne's finger she was released it felt like, into the sea.

The soft lapping of the waves, of Anne, taking her grain by grain, until at last, she emerged from the water, whole again, gasping and renewed.

Chapter Text

"Ann," it was barely a whisper.

"Ann," it came again, the deep voice, rough from sleep, slightly louder.

Ann didn't want to be disturbed. She was cocooned in Anne's arms, one tucked under her head and pillow, the other slung over her waist. Anne's front pressed completely against her back, feet tangled.

Why should she have to be disturbed by anything?

"I've got to get to training, darling."

Ann groaned and rolled over, pressing her face against Anne's chest. She'd removed her sports bra at some point in the night, and put her t-shirt on. Ann gripped it tight, her nose brushing the ribbed collar.

She could tell the sun was up, and clearly they'd had a lie in, but it must still be too early for Anne to leave.

She didn't want Anne to leave. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted Anne to stay and hold her while she dozed, half awake and half in dream like memories of the night before.

Her mind played them back as though she was holding up a kaleidoscope. Every shake brought out a swirl of emotion and sensation before coalescing into a clear memory. Anne on top of her. Kissing her. Licking her. Anne inside of her.

She shuddered at that last memory. She remembered how she'd given in, how she'd gasped and moaned, and how Anne had encouraged it. All of it. The sounds, the writhing, the wanton abandon.

Ann couldn't remember when they'd stopped. She remembered Anne kissing her as she'd cried out, asking if she was alright, if she wanted to keep going.

She must have said yes to both, because she remembered Anne's mouth joining her finger. Or was it fingers at that point? She didn't know, she only knew how she had panted, struggling for breath, her lungs burning, until she screamed.

And Anne had been there when her eyes had finally opened, a dimpled smile on her face. Kissing her gently, stroking her cheek as she so often did.

She had fallen asleep after that, Anne holding her close as she was now.

"How about ten more minutes like this, and I promise you'll see me again after training? Will you let me leave then?"

Ann sighed, finally forced to recognize the reality of the morning. "I suppose," she mumbled against the fabric of Anne's shirt.

Anne chuckled and kissed the top of her head, giving Ann a tight squeeze in the process.

"Did you sleep well?" Anne asked, still holding her tight.

Ann nodded and smiled. "Very well."

"And, um-"

Anne's pausing and faltering, made Ann pull back slightly and look up. It was so unlike her to be unsure of what she was saying.

Anne didn't meet her eyes, but finished her thought. "And everything…everything last night was alright?"

Ann smiled softly, reaching her hand up and resting it against Anne's cheek. She shifted up the mattress to rest her head on the other half of Anne's pillow before she answered.

"It was wonderful. It was truly so much more and so much better than I ever could have hoped for. Thank you," she finished in a whisper, tilting her chin in silent request.

Anne's lips met hers not a second later in a slow, tender kiss.

"Thank you," Anne repeated, as they pulled apart. "For trusting me. For letting me be that person."

Ann bit her lip. "I never really wanted it to be anybody, until I wanted it to be you."

Anne kissed her forehead, and they settled against each other again for a little while longer.

"Can you not skip training just once? Aren't you already the best?"

Anne laughed. "Flattery would usually get you much farther, Miss Walker, but unfortunately I'm the captain and I have to lead by example and all that," she went on with a sigh. "So I had better get going."

Ann sighed as well and with a final squeeze let Anne roll away.

She sat up gathering the sheet to her chest with one hand, and sorting her mass of hair about her shoulder with the other, while Anne collected her clothes and slipped her track pants back on.

"Do you have time for coffee?" Ann asked. "And I can make toast and scramble an egg alright," she offered. "If you need to eat before you go."

"I haven't-" Anne began, turning towards the bed, whatever words she was about to say were halted.

"Good Lord," she breathed, and with no further warning nimbly and quickly, crawled across the bed. Ann fell back against her pillows with a laugh, which turned to a moan, as Anne kissed her passionately.

"If I had even an extra half hour, I know what I would really like for breakfast," she said, their lips never truly separating.

Ann giggled. "Come back for dinner," she mumbled through Anne's onslaught of kisses. She held Anne's face tight between her hands, as they slowly pulled apart.

"How about you come round to mine, and I'll cook?" Anne suggested, nipping at Ann's glistening bottom lip.

Ann hummed, her body pushing up against Anne. "I'd like that."

With one last, lingering kiss, and a groan of supreme dissatisfaction, Anne swung herself off the edge of the bed.

Ann sat back up, pulling the tangled sheet loose and wrapping it about herself as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"The bathroom's through the other end of the closet there, if you need it," she said. "There's extra toothbrushes in the drawer, and towels on the shelf. Help yourself to whatever you need."

"But please ignore my clothes everywhere. Oh lord, and whatever other things I've left all over."

Anne chuckled and kissed Ann's cheek softly in return. "I'd keep my eyes closed," she joked. "But I'd hate to make more of a mess."

Ann groaned as Anne laughed and made her way to the toilet.

She heard the door click shut and took a moment in the quiet of her room. She started by examining her toes on the carpet. Her nails were painted a light pink, just as they'd been the day before. She looked at her calves that she could see sticking out from below the edge of the sheet, and up to her hands in her lap.

They looked the same, just like her feet. She expected just like the rest of her would. She was the same, but she felt so much different.

And it wasn't the sex, not the act itself, but Anne, knowing it was Anne who had simultaneously devoured and savoured her. She made Ann feel as though she was so much more than anybody had ever believed she could be. More than she had ever believed she was. That she was worthy of her time and affection.

That she mattered.

Tears began to run down her cheeks. She couldn't stop them, even as she heard the door to the toilet open, and Anne's footsteps approaching.

"Ann?" She barely heard, as a sob rattled through her chest and out into the space between them.

"Ann." She heard again, and saw Anne through her tears kneeling at her feet. She felt Anne's hands on her knees, rubbing circles with her thumbs, and she fell forward pressing her face against a broad shoulder. Anne's arms encircled her.

"Hey, my sweet girl," she murmured against Ann's hair. "What's going on?"

Ann sniffed, desperate to qualm her overflowing emotions. "I-I just suddenly seemed to have so many feelings," she stuttered out. "I'm sorry."

Anne ran her hand up and down her bare back. "That's okay, darling. Don't be sorry. Happy tears I hope though."

Ann nodded, and threw her arms around Anne's neck. "Yeah," she sighed, finally catching her breath. "I- I just felt so much all of a sudden. Just a flood of things," she confessed. "And you just make me feel like I'm so wonderful."

Anne kissed her head. "Oh, God Ann, of course you are."

"But I'm worried now you'll think it's silly to feel all this so soon."

Anne shook her head. "We can't help feeling what we feel, or how quickly we feel them. And if I didn't feel a depth of feelings for you, Ann, last night wouldn't have happened. I want to make that abundantly clear. It wasn't something I went into without much thought."

Ann nodded and finally managed to take a deep breath. "Thank you," she murmured, with a sniff, she pulled away and patted Anne's shoulders, letting her eyes and hands wander. "You had better get going."

"So long as I know you'll be alright if I do?"

Ann nodded again. "I'm alright," she insisted. "I just…it all sort of just hit me."

Anne touched their foreheads together. "I get it. Last night was momentous, it's something that I have my own deluge of feelings about."

She offered no other explanation, instead pulling back and bringing a palm up to caress Ann's cheek. "I'll message you my address, or I can send a car to get you?"

Ann smiled and pressed her face into Anne's hand. "I can have a car come for me, just send me the address."

Anne smiled and leaning forward gave her a soft kiss. "How's four sound and we'll have tea while I cook?"

Ann pressed her lips to the inside of Anne's wrist. "That's perfect."

With one last, tender kiss, Anne got up.

"Let me at least walk you out," Ann insisted, but Anne stopped her with a shake of her head.

"I know the way. You stay in bed and I'll see you this afternoon."

Ann smiled. "Okay. See you later."

Anne paused at the door, and Ann briefly hoped she had changed her mind about leaving, but instead she came back for one more soft kiss, before heading off without another word.

Ann sighed, and the flood of feelings returned this time in a fit of giddiness.

She fell back on the bed and covered her mouth to suppress her giggles. The next instant she was up, and skipping to the bathroom, dropping the sheet to the floor along the way.

Naked before her vanity she examined herself in the mirror. She looked the same, but felt so much different. She felt like she was for once truly living, fully inhabiting her form. That what she saw and felt and experienced, weren't just happening about her but to her.

For once she liked the way she looked. Her pale skin and freckles were desirable, it seemed. Her breasts could attract the attention she wanted. They were no longer an obstruction. Pendulous and ill suited to the rest of her slight frame. Now she only remembered how Anne had looked at them, the attention she'd lavished upon them, and how it had made Ann squirm and moan.

Her soft stomach and the curve of her hips were as they should be. She shouldn't deny herself things she enjoyed or avoid excess just to keep herself from filling out.

Her legs, long and slender, had always been a part of her she had appreciated. Girls at school, her cousin's, Elizabeth even, had always envied them.

But now, now she even saw her legs differently. She saw them spread, and how easily they had. She saw Anne's head, her hand between them. She felt for the first time that part of herself. It hadn't hurt, but now there was a dull ache there. She felt it more acutely as she sat on the edge of her tub and began to draw a bath.

It thrilled her. She swirled her hand in the warm water and sighed, looking at her fingers, and feeling Anne's skin beneath their tips.

She slipped under the water and let out a long breath. She was desired. She belonged. She would never be the woman she had been, but she somehow wasn't different. Her perception of herself had merely altered forever.

Chapter Text

After her bath and brushing her hair, Ann scarcely knew what to do with herself for the rest of the day. She thought briefly of painting, but knew that would be hopeless, she could focus on nothing, she was good for nothing but thoughts of Anne.

She went downstairs in a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, and immediately set about cleaning their dishes and glasses from the night before.

The housekeeper, Lucy, popped into the kitchen a half hour later, insisting she would finish.

So with a sigh, Ann took herself, her thoughts, and her cup of tea to the garden, along with a sketchbook and a set of pencils.

She would find some way to get through her morning. It was agony, even with the sun on her face and the birds chirping, to have to while away her morning.

When she was convinced she'd spent at least an hour sketching the fall roses still in bloom beside her chosen bench, she checked her phone, only to discover it had been a mere thirty minutes.

She huffed, and looked around. What was she going to do with herself? What had she done with herself all summer since coming home? She could scarcely remember. What had filled her days before Anne? Whatever it had been, painting, watching the telly, visiting her array of cousins, seemed like such poor substitutes now.

She sighed, and taking up her empty cup and things, walked back to the house.

Lucy was loading the dishwasher, when Ann reentered the kitchen.

"Really, Lucy," she insisted. "I can finish this up. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? It's lovely out."

Lucy smiled as she stood up, closing the door of the dishwasher gently. "Are you sure Miss? There's still some cleaning up to do, and I always change the sheets on Mondays."

Ann bit her lip at the mention of her sheets, but couldn't help the slight heat that crept into her cheeks. She wanted to crawl between those sheets forever.

"Oh… oh don't worry about that today," she said. "They can wait one more week. Enjoy a nice day. With pay of course," she was quick to add.

Lucy's smile expanded. "Thank you very much, Miss Walker. If you do need me before I'm back on Wednesday, let me know."

Ann nodded. "I'm sure I'll be alright. Thank you, Lucy."

The housekeeper nodded. "Thank you again," she said before making her exit.

Ann sighed, content to be alone again. To be able to let her mind truly wander to the night before. She finished loading the dishwasher and wiping up, then wandered back through the house.

Her eyes caught the painting on the floor, leaning still against the wall, but the corner of its frame was cracked she noticed, bending to examine it.

Please tell me that wasn't something priceless?

Ann giggled. The landscape that now sat on her floor wasn't priceless, but she knew a Constable of this caliber would fetch a few hundred thousand at auction. She picked up the canvas and after examining the hook hung it back up in its place. The frame would need mending, but for now it would hang on the wall as a dented reminder.

She rushed back to her bed, to the tangled sheets and covers, to the pillow on the right side, seldom used before last night.

She discarded her jeans and shirt and bra, and in only her pants slipped back in amongst her memories. She hugged Anne's pillow to her chest and sighed. She couldn't find anything appealing to fill up her day. Was everything so altered?

Who was she now? The question swirled. She felt for the first time in her life like she owned all of herself, yet somehow a huge part of her being had left with Anne. Perhaps that was an extension of herself, something they'd created between them, and the part Anne had created was here with her, and so she was divided but whole. But still it was agony to be apart. Why was there an ache when she was so happy?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, succumbing to sleep and contentedness, before her mind, or heart, dared to whisper the word she searched for.

—

Anne lived, to Ann's surprise, though perhaps she shouldn't have been, at the end of a quiet row of older, modest detached brick homes. The street ended and turned into a footpath framed by trees. Just above their tops and beyond a little ways, Ann could make out the flags and banners flying over Piece Hall stadium.

She thanked her driver, as she stepped out, and smiled up at him. "I'll ring you for a ride home, William, if I need it, but if it's gone nine or ten please don't stay up on my account."

"I'll be up late regardless, Miss Walker. Call me anytime if you need me."

"Thank you," she repeated, stepping up on the pavement, and towards Anne's house. She heard William get in the car, but not drive off, just as someone stepped out from Anne's front door.

The woman who rapidly descended the few stairs was stout with short cropped brown hair. She hopped off the bottom step and upon looking up, smirked when she noticed Ann.

"Well, well, well," she started smoothly. "I'll have to have a word with our Anne about her lack of loquaciousness. She said you were pretty, but my goodness that's not quite it is it?"

She continued stepping closer, not allowing Ann a chance to speak.

"Perhaps it's not her fault, seeing now that you are just indescribably beautiful," the woman finished, extending her hand.

Ann blushed and trapped her lip between her teeth. "Th- thank you," she managed, tugging at the sleeve of the cardigan she'd worn over her dress, before placing her hand gingerly in the other woman's.

"Isabella Norcliffe, but call me Tib."

Ann smiled softly, still blushing. She recognized the name. Tib seemed exactly as Anne had described her, flirtatious bordering on disrespectful, but never lurid. It was a fine line to walk, but she seemed able enough. Her warm tone put Ann at ease.

"And you're the Adney I've heard so much about."

Ann's brow creased as she drew her hand away. "It's Ann, actually," she corrected.

Tib hit her forehead with an exaggerated slap. "Oh, of course how silly of me. Anne and Ann. Too cute. Well, I best be off, just popped in to drop off a forgotten ingredients for your dinner. Have a wonderful evening," she finished with a wink.

Ann blushed at the suggestion. "Thank you," she managed. "It was nice to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," Isabella returned with an exaggerated bow, before bounding to the sports car parked at the curb.

She mock saluted before pulling too sharp and too fast a turn for the narrow street.

Ann giggled as she continued towards the front steps, though the cloud of her anxiety descended as she pressed the doorbell.

How had Isabella thought she was someone else at first? Was there someone else? There must be. Anne must need more than she could provide. Physically, intellectually. Someone with more common interests.

She was near tears, wringing her hands by the time Anne answered the door, in a black jeans and a black tshirt, a tea towel draped over her shoulder.

Her smile faltered as she reached out for Ann's hand and led her inside.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly.

For an answer, Ann flung herself into Anne's arms, pressing her face against the tea towel to suppress her tears.

She felt Anne's arms wrap around her tight, and a kiss pressed against her head. "Ann, talk to me."

She sniffed and caught her breath. "It's okay if there's someone else," she managed. "But just tell me. I know I'm not very interesting. I know we don't have that much in common, so I understand if you-"

"Why the Hell do you think there's someone else?" Anne cut her off, stepping back, and taking Ann's face between her palms. She wiped the tears away with her thumbs, brow creased with confusion.

"I-I met Isabella in the driveway, and she mistook me at first for someone name Adney and I-"

Anne let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Fucking Tib," she muttered, shaking her head, before bringing her eyes back to Ann's.

"I know I'm not enough," Ann was still talking, gulping back more tears.

"Hey, hey," Anne interrupted, still running her thumbs across damp cheeks. "Darling, there's nobody else. I promise. There's only you. Tib's just an idiot."

Ann took a shaky breath. "Who's Adney then?"

Anne sighed and pulled her back tight to her chest. Ann leaned against her solid form.

"Do you remember, when we drove through Shibden on Saturday and we passed over that little bridge?" She asked, running her fingers through Ann's hair.

Ann nodded.

"And I told you when I was younger that I used to sit in the walkway under it as a moody, lesbian teenager and wonder what it would be like to have someone you loved so much you built a bridge and named it after them. Do you remember the name of that bridge?"

Realization slowly dawned on Ann's face and she pressed her cheek further into Anne's chest as she nodded. "Adney Bridge," she murmured.

Anne hummed. "That's the one."

"So there's no Adney," Ann spoke slowly as she thought it through. "She just misspoke?"

Anne let out a long breath, and after an equally long pause, Ann looked up.

"What is it?"

Anne's eyes were shimmering, so dark and deep Ann could see herself reflected back.

Anne's smile was as soft as her voice when she spoke. "She didn't misspeak. She's just an idiot I perhaps shouldn't trust with all the deepest inclinations of my heart."

Ann toyed with the ribbed collar of Anne's t-shirt, her heart swelling with hope.

"Would you build a bridge for me?" She murmured, closing her eyes and sitting in the brief moment of silence before the answer.

She felt Anne press her face against the top of her head, and the soft kiss that followed. "With my bare hands."

Chapter Text

With my bare hands.

Those same hands that poured her tea, and fed her biscuits as they sat out in the garden. The pristine garden that Ann soon learned was planted and tended by those hands.

And as they headed inside when rain threatened and Anne insisted she start dinner, it was one of those hands that held hers so gently.

Those hands that sliced and stirred and held the spoon to her lips for a taste test, as she sat at the island of Anne's sleek and well appointed kitchen. Those hands with calloused palms that were somehow never rough against her cheek.

Those capable hands that prepared her a perfect meal. That skinned the salmon, and picked the peas and pulled the fennel. That turned the corkscrew. That set her plate before her.

Hands that gestured as they conversed across the table. That seemed to always be on the move as Anne talked about training that day, and asked Ann about her own day, her plans for the week.

Those hands that had pulled her into Anne's lap. Those hands that were on her now, one at the back of her neck, the other under her dress, stroking her thigh. She moaned softly as their lips parted and Anne moved to that spot just behind her ear.

"Are you free this weekend?" She whispered, her breath hot against Ann's neck.

Ann nodded, curling her bare toes into the padding of the arm rest.

"We've got Benfica on Saturday, and well, I was wondering if you'd like to come, we've got the Sunday and Monday off so I was going to stick around and I'm hoping you might like to join me."

Ann sighed when the kissing recommenced. "Benfica? Is that in Scotland?"

Anne chuckled against the soft skin of Ann's shoulder exposed by tugging at the capped sleeve of her dress.

"They're a club from Lisbon," she answered.

Ann pulled back slightly. "Oh," she started, the uncertainty in that syllable causing Anne to do the same. And before she could censor herself it slipped out.

"I've never been abroad."

Her eyes darted down to their laps, too ashamed at her unworldliness to look Anne in the face.

Anne's hand slowly retreated from under her skirt, and Ann prepared herself for the inevitable rebuke, tears already pricking her eyes.

But Anne's hand landed softly against her cheek, thumb stroking the one traitor that had already fallen.

"How is that possible with your family? I would have assumed you had grandiose holidays, jet setting all over the world."

Ann shook her head, eyes still downcast.

"Not when your father doesn't want you around. When you grow up so afraid and timid, by the time you're old enough to travel and enjoy yourself and appreciate it, your family's deemed you too anxious and fearful to fly or go anywhere further than London or Edinburgh. The time I had convincing them I could even go to school on my own."

She took a shaky breath, finally lifting her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Anne shook her head, still stroking Ann's cheek. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," she said softly. "It's never too late to start. Come to Lisbon, it's a beautiful city. I promise we'll have a great time."

Ann clung to Anne, burying her face in her neck. "You still want me to go with you?"

Anne turned her head slightly to kiss her temple. "Of course I do. I'll take you to every game we've got, how's that sound?" She asked with a hum and a smile.

"We've got Ajax in our group and PSG. So we'll check Amsterdam and Paris off the list, and who knows who we'll be up against after that, and, when the season's over, we can go wherever you please."

Ann pressed her face further into Anne, she could feel the slickness caused by her tears.

"You really want me to come?" She murmured, grasping tighter at Anne's solid form.

Anne stroked her hair. "I want you everywhere with me, Adney."

Ann wept then, for the girl she had once been, for the woman she had once thought herself to be. For believing and accepting that she didn't deserve grace. For being shown more in the past week than she'd experienced in her entire life.

And as she cried, Anne held her tight. Those hands unyielding against Ann's back, holding her, tethering her to this place and time.

She felt Anne's fingertips pressing more firmly as she rocked them, whispering dulcet words Ann's ears couldn't quite comprehend but soothed her aching heart.

Those hands. They would never strike her, never push her away, never close a door on her, never withhold affection.

They wanted her. They clutched her close. They gave her pleasure. Under Anne's hands she was protected, buffeted by nothing. She was a woman walking over a bridge, built for her, to a world where she knew some peace.

"I do have a passport at least," she murmured, what seemed like an eternity later. She'd calmed down, still on the dark gray couch in the sitting room.

Anne had leaned back, at some point, against the armrest and let her curl up completely against her. The hand combing through her hair brought a comfort she had never known.

Anne didn't speak, but kissed her forehead gently and allowed her to continue.

"I got it for the first summer after school started, thinking I'd go somewhere and actually see all the art I'd been learning about, but no one thought I should go by myself. And of course, no one could or wanted to go with me.”

Anne kissed her head again and pulled her in closer.

“I'm sorry for always seeming to cry over something when we're together,” she murmured after a pause. “I promise I won't always be like this.

Anne kept her lips pressed to her hair as she spoke.

“I told you that first day we met, that you needed some kindness in your life. I only didn't realize just how much you'd been denied. And you've had a lot of sadness and a lot of loss it seems.”

“My mum passing was hardest.”

Anne's thumb swept back and forth across a smooth cheek. "She passed just after your father?"

Ann nodded slightly. "The same year, yes," she answered. "I was twenty. It was just me and Elizabeth when mum was gone, and so much paperwork and lawyers and business. My father's will was a mess. My mum hadn’t had one.Elizabeth luckily had graduated, but found herself with a football club to run. We were both so young. I had to take a break from school until it was sorted."

She sighed and nuzzled in closer. “There was so much to do. So many lawyers. The charity foundation…”

"Are you in charge of all that?"

Ann shook her head. "My mum was. The board has handled things since. It's mainly various family members, my aunt, some older cousins, plus lawyers and business type people to keep track of things. But I started recently, at Elizabeth's request, to get more involved with where the money is going, making sure it's getting to things that she and I are more concerned with."

"And that's going well?"

Ann sighed. "Not at first, but they're coming around, and it's my money, we'll mine and Elizabeth's, so really we should be the ones deciding where we want to do good."

Anne nodded. "That sounds perfectly reasonable."

Ann sighed. "To you it does, because you're reasonable. But my family, to them I'llalways be invalid Annie."

Anne's forehead wrinkled with confusion.

"Invalid how?" She asked, two fingers under Ann's chin, lifting it up until their eyes met. "You don't look very invalid to me."

Ann shrugged and gestured vaguely at her own head. "Because of- of my problems," she explained. "They don't think I know my own mind. It's why coming out was a nightmare. 'You're just confused' they all said. That was a decade ago. They still say it," she continued, casting her eyes down again.

Anne said nothing, but held her fast. "Well I don't think you're an invalid," she said. "And I certainly believe you know your own mind, and hopefully your heart, for my sake."

Ann looked up again. “I believe I do,” she said softly, tilting her chin in silent request.

Anne captured her waiting lips in a long, soft kiss. They pulled apart slowly.

“Will you spend the night?” Anne asked, fingertips brushing a loose curl behind Ann's ear. “No ulterior motives I swear.”

Ann bit her lip and smiled. ”I'd like that. No matter your motives.”

Anne chuckled. “Well in that case…” She trailed off, pinching Ann's bottom through her dress and laughing at the shriek produced.

And there were those hands again, squeezing her sides, drawing her out of herself. Strong and calloused, they were unyielding and relentless against the length of stiff rope to which Ann was tethered. And from the depth of her anxiety and despondency she was lifted.

She giggled and fought Anne's onslaught of tickles and squeezes, until she was upright, knees on either side of Anne's narrow hips, her hair escaping its loose tie.

She had those hands in her own now, pushing them away as Anne laughed and allowed herself to be bested. Ann was out of breath as their lips met. The kiss was sloppy and they both laughed through it.

“Will I get to stay with you in Lisbon?” Ann asked, sitting up and throwing her long, loose curls over her shoulder.

Anne hummed, her palms slinking up smooth thighs.

“The perks of being captain is I get my own room. So you can of course stay with me at the hotel, but on the plane I'll have to sit with the squad,” she went on.

“You can sit up front with Tib if you aren't too upset with her still.”

Ann nodded. “I'm not upset with her. She seems like fun.”

“Oh, she is definitely that. And her sister, Charlotte, will be up there too, and some of the operations people.”

“Are Isabella and Charlotte the owners then?”

Anne didn't answer immediately, but ran her hands back down from under Ann's dress and back up again.

“Focus, captain,” Ann admonished with a smirk.

Anne chuckled. “Sorry, gaffer, but you do make it awfully difficult looking like that. So perfectly tousled.”

“You can tousle me all you like later,” she promised, drumming her fingers against Anne's chest, smiling at the thought and at her own courage for speaking it.

Anne only raised an eyebrow at the suggestion and rubbed her thumbs over the top of Ann's knees, before answering the question that still hung between them.

“They're mother still owns the majority of the shares, but has been less and less involved as she's gotten older. She's handed things over to Charlotte now completely for the past few years. And Tib…” she continued.

“Well, Tib is more of our morale officer than actually being involved. I don't think she cares much about the business side of things. After her injury forced her to stop playing, she just wanted to be around the game. She's our mascot, our cheerleader, our kit woman. Whatever we need her to be.”

“She seems like the right sort for the position,” Ann said with a smile.

“Definitely,” Anne agreed, her hands wandering up again. “She won't sit in the owner’s box, too stuffy, so I suggested you sit in the stands with her. More fun that way, and there's much less chance you get photographed.”

Ann bit her lip and nodded in agreement, she looked down at her hands drawing them down to rest on Anne's firm abdomen. “I do plan on telling Elizabeth soon.”

Anne lifted herself off the armrest, muscles rippling under Ann's fingertips in a display of strength that made her breath hitch.

They were eye to eye like this, Anne's hands on her waist. “Whenever you're ready,” she insisted. “We can have it like this a little longer.”

Ann smiled softly as Anne kissed her nose. “I don't want to keep you a secret.”

Anne smiled and touched their foreheads together, before she began a path of soft kisses from Ann's lips to her chin and along her jaw.

Her hands splayed across her back, their warmth radiating through the thin material of Ann's dress. Ann could do little else but grip broad shoulders and throw her head back. Those hands kept her in place, kept her upright. Strong and steady.

She moaned as Anne's lips made their way behind her ear and she was drawn in tighter. The hands on her back pressing but never forcing.

This is what it was to be cherished, she thought. To be held up and not held back.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing Sunday?” Catherine asked, shutting her laptop and looking over her desk to where Ann was seated on the sofa against the wall.

Her head snapped up from her phone at the question, Instagram forgotten.

“Ummm…” She started.

“Granny's having some kind of thing and Delia can't come and I don't want to go alone. She's a hoot and all but I don't want to be subjected to the rest of them without someone normal with me.”

Ann worried her lip between her teeth. “Well actually,” she went on, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I'll be away this weekend. I'm going to Lisbon.”

Catherine narrowed her eyes. “How very interesting, because I'm quite certain United is playing Benfica this Saturday, but of course you wouldn't know anything about that.”

Ann giggled at her cousin's playful tone. “No, I don't know anything about that.”

Catherine dissolved their game. Now they were both giggling, she ran giddily over to the couch.

“But seriously,” she said, bouncing down onto the cushion. “Are you really going with her?”

Ann only had to nod and Catherime nearly squealed.

Ann shot up and went to close the door over. “Cathy!”

Her sister's office was only a few doors down. The last thing she wanted was Elizabeth wondering what they were so excited about.

Catherine waved her off as Ann sat back down. “I'm just excited for you,” she said at a much more acceptable volume. “That's kind of a big deal.”

Ann nodded, playing with her fingers in her lap. She realized then she wasn't fidgeting, for once, because she was nervous but because she was excited.

She smiled. “We're going to share a hotel room.”

“I hope with two beds, young lady,” Catherine said with mock sternness.

“I hope not,” Ann fired back, in a fit of laughter.

Catherine feigned shock. “Oh really. Annie does that mean…”

Ann blushed furiously. “Anne came over Sunday-”

“Oh my God!”

Ann was grateful for the closed door, as Catherine shrieked and pulled her in for a bruising hug.

“Was it amazing?”

Ann hummed and nodded as they pulled apart. “It was,” was her only response.

Catherine huffed. “Well details. Come on Annie. Was it romantic? Was it how you thought it would be? Was she a sex god?”

Ann laughed at Catherine's wagging eyebrows. “It was romantic I suppose,” she confessed. “There weren't candles and rose petals and things but, Anne was very patient and very gentle and made sure I was comfortable with everything, and I think there's a certain romance about that.”

Catherine squeezed her knee and rubbed her thumb over the soft denim. “I love that for you, Annie. And did you…”

Ann grinned and looked away. “Oh…well…” she stumbled. “More than a few times, I think. I sort of lost track.”

Catherine's eyes widened. “Lost track? Good Lord.”

Ann chuckled. “I think at some point I just kind of became a little delirious,” she confessed with a contented sigh.

“Just all of it overwhelmed me. Then I fell asleep.”

Catherine shook her head. “I'd say I was happy for you, but I also kind of hate you right now.”

Ann giggled and slapped her shoulder playfully, slipping out of her shoes and tucking her feet under herself.

“Are you going to the match Saturday?”

Ann nodded. “Anne's arranged everything. She's picking me up Thursday morning to get to the airport. I'm going to watch the match from the cheap seats with Isabella.”

Catherine’s eyebrows shot up. “Isabella Norcliffe? That cad?”

Ann came to Tib’s rescue. “I met her briefly. She's not all that bad.”

“To you, maybe, her best mate's girlfriend, but I've had to beat her off with a stick at more than one event.”

Ann studied her cousin's face, eyes narrowing. “But you didn't entirely hate it, did you?”

Catherine sighed. “No. I suppose I didn't. She can be quite charming. I'm sure you'll have a great time, Annie. Now did you just come here to lord your new, sexy, exciting relationship over your poor, single cousin? On the phone you made it seem like you needed something?”

Ann bit her lip and pushed at a non-existent cuticle. “I..I was wondering if you had some time this afternoon to do some shopping with me?”

“Of course,” Catherine responded slowly, trying to figure out Ann's sudden shy mood. “What is it?”

Ann continued to play with her nails. “I made an appointment at that fancy shop on the high street,” she couldn't quite bring herself to say it. “You know the one near where we like to go to brunch.”

Catherine's eyes widened. “That fancy underthings shop? Annie! Temptress. I like this side of you. Of course I'll come. Now I know what you've got planned for Lisbon.”

Ann's cheeks burned. “I just- I don't have anything nice like that, and I spent the night at Anne's Monday and we you know,” she eluded. “But then I just wore one of her t-shirts to sleep and I was comfortable and all, but it would be nice to have something…sexy.”

She flushed at the word. It wasn't one she'd ever thought would apply to her, but Anne had that way of making her feel desirable. Bigger than she was. Brighter.

Catherine took fidgeting hands in her own. “Oh Annie, when we're done, she won't know what to do with herself.”

Ann smiled. Thinking of being away with Anne. Of Anne seeing her like that, knowing she was so wanted. That Ann wanted her. Knowing that with a look she could make the great footballer want to shrug off training.

The new thread of boldness that had weaved its way through her stiffened the once thin fabric of her being.

“I would hope she'll know exactly what to do.”

—

Ann felt her confidence rise to new heights Thursday when she stepped out of her door to the sound of Anne's sports car on the gravel.

“I thought it best to pick you up in style,” Anne said as she stood, leaning her forearms against the roof.

As she faced Ann she lowered her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and, peering over the top of the frames, let out a long, low whistle.

“Sweet Lord, you are something else.”

Ann made sure the door was locked and turned back, the smile pushing at her perpetually blushing cheeks.

Before she could even think of lifting her suitcase any farther, Anne had run around the car and bounded up the steps in two long strides.

“Hi,” she said, slightly winded, wrapping an arm around Ann's waist. “You look so beautiful.”

Ann smiled up at her. A piece of hair that had come out of her braid blew across her face in the breeze and Anne reached up to tuck it behind her ear.

“I missed you,” Anne said, before leaning down and kissing Ann soundly.

Ann hummed as they finally parted. “I missed you too. I like your suit,” she said, patting the gold crest on the black suit jacket that sat over Anne's heart.

Anne beamed and stepped back. “We do like to travel in style.” She made a show of adjusting the knot of her thin tie. “I think I clean up alright.”

Ann laughed and stepped closer, fixing the collar of Anne's black shirt where her pantomime had pulled it over her jacket. “Very well I think,” she agreed, looking Anne up and down. “Still in trainers though I see.”

Anne smiled a little abashed. “Well, a girl has to stay on brand. They are my most dressy trainers, though,” she said, looking down at her black shoes.

“They are,” Ann agreed, placing her hand on Anne's chest. “You look perfectly you,” she said, tilting her chin up in invitation.

Anne kissed her, smiles never faltering.

“You look phenomenal,” Anne murmured, their lips still only millimetres apart. “Is your wardrobe just dresses meant to drive me mad?”

Ann's tongue peaked out as her smile broadened, and she looked down at her knitted dress. September had definitely come this past week and she'd found this warmer dress, still with the tags attached buried in her closet.

It was navy and tight at the top with sleeves to her elbows. The skirt was lighter than the top, it flared out over her hips and down, ending just below the knee. It emphasized her narrow waist. She felt adult in it. Sophisticated.

Perhaps that was why she had never worn it before. She’d bought it on a whim she couldn't remember, but had realized getting home it wasn't quite her, though her anxiety would never allow her to return it.

So she put it to the back. She wasn't a woman who could wear a dress like this with proper shoes and a pearl pendant that had been her mother's, yet here she was. And under Anne's appreciative gaze, she felt even more like that woman.

Ann smiled at the question and gave Anne a soft kiss on the cheek along with her answer. “Maybe it is.”

Anne winked and grinned, dimples cratering. “I'll happily be admitted to your asylum, Miss Walker.”

Ann giggled.

“This it?” Anne asked, picking up her only bag.

She nodded. “I packed light, and it says it will be well over twenty all weekend so no need for any bulky jumpers and jackets.”

Anne groaned as she started down the steps. “Don't remind me of the heat. They're calling for it to be thirty Saturday. I'll be a sweaty mess out there.”

Ann grinned. “Lucky me.”

Anne raised an eyebrow as she shut the boot of her car. “Oh, it's like that is it?”

Ann stifled her bubbling laughter as Anne came around and pressed her against the passenger door. “Yeah,” she managed between kisses.

Anne laughed and pressed their foreheads together, bringing her hands up to hold Ann's cheeks between warm palms.

There was a moment then, when their eyes met, Ann's cheeks round and sore with mirth, that she saw for herself a future. Not the hazy possibilities she always struggled to envision. Something clear and tangible. Herself, older, happy and confident, waiting for Anne to open her car door, like she'd done hundreds of times before.

She bit her lip to stifle the words that threatened, but as Anne gave her one last soft kiss and reached for the handle, she held them in her lungs and breathed them deep.

Chapter Text

The flight was thankfully short enough that Ann didn't have to make too much conversation. Isabella did most of the talking. Distracting her from any fears and catching her up on the Benfica squad and what their tactics would be come Saturday. She listened and sipped her wine and nodded and hopefully asked the appropriate questions.

The manager, Samuel Washington, had chimed in every now and again. He seemed very kind and gentle, and Ann immediately took a liking to him. Especially after his very thorough explanation of the offside rule.

Ann had smiled as he pulled a small white board out of his bag and, coming across the cabin to the empty seat beside her, had set it on the table and drawn it out for her.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense, than the article I tried to read.”

His smile was kind. “You really never took any interest in the game? You must have been around the stadium at Lightcliffe growing up?”

Ann shrugged and fidgetted, her fingers playing with the marker on the table before her. “No, it wasn't really my thing. My father… Well he and Elizabeth were more in sync I suppose.”

Thankfully Tib jumped in then, changing the topic to the heat in Lisbon, and how she would cope.

When Ann met her eyes across the table, Tib offered a wink and soft smile, and Ann wondered how much she knew exactly. Had Anne told her to steer the conversation away from certain topics should they arise? Had they discussed her anxieties? Had Anne alluded to how her father had tormented her? Whatever Anne had told her, she was grateful she could count on Tib.

“What do you do Miss Walker with your time, if you're not involved with any family business?”

It was Charlotte who asked from her seat across the aisle. Ann found her gaze scrutinizing and could only hold it a second before looking down at her hands.

“Well I have some involvement in our charitable foundation,” she started, looking across the table at Tib who gave her a reassuring smile.

“And I just finished my art therapy schooling in the fall, and now my apprenticeship is set to start in the new year at a school in Hipperholme. I much prefer to be around children,” she admitted, before casting her eyes down again.

Charlotte nodded. “What led you to this career choice?”

“Let's not interrogate the poor girl,” Tib interjected, shooting a look at her sister that Ann didn't miss. “I for one think it's a noble pursuit and from what our captain has told me you're an unbelievable artist as well.”

Ann blushed, and thanked her lucky stars for Isabella. “She exaggerates, I'm sure.”

“I think you’re just far too modest to agree with her.”

Ann’s blush deepened and she only smiled shyly in response as the chime sounded to fasten their seatbelt and the attendant came to collect their various remaining mugs and glasses.

“Thank you,” Ann offered softly. At the same instant Anne's low but booming voice could be heard through the curtain that separated their section from the team.

“Oy! In your seats now, all of you, and shut up for five minutes!”

Mr. Washington chuckled and shook his head. “Our stalwart captain.”

Ann giggled and glanced out the window. She took a deep breath, smiling as they passed through a soft, white cloud.

My captain.

Ann thanked the bellhop who took her luggage. “Ab-obrigada,” she attempted with a shy smile.

She must have gotten it right for a broad smile stretched across his face.

“You are… welcome,” he returned in kind, reverting back to his native language as Ann pressed fifty Euros into his palm. His eyes widened and he tried to insist it was too much.

“Sim, sim,” was all Ann could insert into the few pauses of his rapid Portuguese. Finally he slipped the note into his pocket and offered Ann a hearty handshake.

“Obrigado, gatinha.”

“D-de nada,” Ann said, as he headed off.

Isabella sauntered over then, looking back at the grinning bellhop.

“Already charming the locals it seems.”

Ann shook her head. “I may have over tipped.”

Tib shrugged. “Ah well, I don't think it will ultimately put much of a dent in your net worth.”

Ann chuckled, and though she was happy to see a familiar face in the grand, bustling lobby, she couldn't help but dart her eyes around in search of someone else.

Tib patted her shoulder. “Team meeting,” she explained, handing Ann her room key.

“Won't take long. Just to hand out room numbers and go over the schedule until match day.”

Ann nodded.

“There's nothing else planned for this evening, so head up and she'll be there shortly.”

Ann smiled and slipped the key card into her purse. “Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for helping me keep my nerves in check on the flight.”

Tib patted her arm gently. “I'm sorry for my sister, she's clearly not as much fun as me. And Anne had mentioned to steer the conversation away from your father,” she went on, confirming Ann's earlier suspicion.

Isabella took Ann's hand as she continued, talking in the most sober tone Ann had heard from her yet.

“I knew him, your father. I knew him to be a despot and a bully. I think if you feel any disapproval towards you from Charlotte, he's to blame. He was very unkind to our mother,” she explained, giving Ann's hand a squeeze. “And I can only imagine what it would have been like being his child. But you're with us now. I don't care what your last name is.”

Ann looked down as she nodded. “Thank you, Isabella,” she murmured and threw her arms around the other woman. “That means a lot to me.”

Isabella pulled back and held Ann at arm's length. “Alright, alright, it's too early and I'm too sober for this much emotion.”

Ann laughed and nodded. “Fair enough.”

Tib tilted her head towards the elevator bank. “Go on then, get out of here.”

Ann offered a peck on the cheek that turned Tib crimson before making her way through to the lift.

The suite was spacious. High ceilings and windows to match offered a spectacular view of the bustling city below. The door opened into a large entryway and sitting room, the double doors at the other were open to reveal an even more palatial bedroom.

Her bag was waiting for her on the stand by an armoire against the wall on the other side of the room. It stood next to a closed door she assumed led to the toilet. Anne's bags were arranged neatly on the floor beneath the luggage rack.

She blushed while taking in the bed and its luxurious covers. Sitting down on the edge, she kicked off her shoes and curled her toes in the thick carpet and wondered how long she'd be forced to wait for Anne.

She felt bold suddenly and scooting back on the bed until her back touched the pillows and headboard, she pulled out her phone.

She lifted the skirt of dress up just passed her knees and, crossing her bare feet at the ankles,took a picture of them and her pink painted toes framed in the afternoon light of the expansive window across from the foot of the bed.

Missing you. She captioned it and hit send.

She watched as it went from delivered to read in an instant but there was no response.

She chewed her lip in anticipation, eyes on her phone until the sound of the suite door opening made her head turn.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

The question reached her before Anne burst into the bedroom, pulling her tie loose from her collar and dropping it to the floor.

Her jacket followed and she simultaneously seemed to pounce and slither up Ann's body.

Ann giggled and flung her arms around broad shoulders, throwing her head back against the pillows in delight and ecstasy as Anne kissed up her neck.

“I've been going mad all day since we parted,” Anne whispered hot against her skin. “Good God, you're fucking perfect.”

She said nothing else as she put her hand under Ann's skirt, fingertips grazing along soft thigh.

Ann couldn't help but moan, her legs spreading.

“I missed you,” she nearly whimpered, anything else she wanted to say was smothered by a searing kiss.

Anne's finger pushed aside the thin, silk barrier between them and Ann gasped at the contact.

Anne's lecherous, dimpled smile greeted her when her eyes opened.

“Did you ever miss me,” Anne drawled, swirling her finger in the fountain at Ann's apex.

Ann nodded her cheek rubbing against Anne's with the movement. “Yes,” she moaned, hips arching off the bed. “Always.”

With that admission, Anne broke through the now stirred surface of Ann's desire.

They both gasped at the incursion. Ann's followed by a moan. The other by a short, delighted laugh.

“God, darling, you're exquisite.”

Ann panted and pressed. She hadn't foreseen this outcome when she'd sent her silly, little message.

Did she truly possess so much power that a picture and barely a suggestion could make Anne come running?

The realization thrilled her. She thought of the underthings and negligee she'd bought with Catherine. What would Anne's reaction be, when she offered herself up on Saturday evening post victory? Would it be like this? Was it possible for there to be more passion between them?

She moaned and came back to herself as Anne kissed that particular spot behind her ear.

“Is this alright?” She panted against Ann's skin.

Ann nodded clutching at Anne's now rumpled shirt. “Yes,” she managed to answer. “Always.”

Anne must have slipped in another finger, for Ann felt the stretch between her legs increase deliciously.

“Always? Are you always this ready for me?”

Ann nodded again, growing near frantic at Anne's low, buttery tone. “I need you. Always. Always.”

With every word of the chant she ground her hips against Anne's relentless fingers.

“You'll have me, Adney. I think about you constantly. The way you look. The way you taste. The sounds you make. The way you feel. Being inside you. Making you mine.”

Each phrase was punctuated with a kiss along Ann's neck, then her jaw until they weren't kissing but merely panting against each other's lips.

Ann whimpered as the rocking of her hips increased. “Oh God. Yes. Yes. I’m yours.”

“My Adney, come for me.”

Ann cried out, back arching. She pressed herself against Anne's relentless fingers, the wanton sounds from between her legs mingled with their moans and sighs. She was so close.

“Show me why I'll always run to you.”

At the dulcet request murmured in her ear, Ann had no choice but to obey.

She clutched and pulled at Anne's shirt, hips rising impossibly higher off the bed, despite Anne's weight.

The cry she emitted was strangled and desperate, pulled from her lungs with a strong curl of Anne's fingers.

She fell back against the pillows boneless and breathless, pulling Anne down with her.

Anne grinned against her neck and offered a soft kiss, fingers still until they retreated slowly and delicately.

Ann hummed as she caught her breath, a hand coming up to hold the back of Anne's head pulling her hair loose from its tie. She ran her fingers through it and couldn't help the bubble of giggles that escaped.

Anne lifted her head, grinning, dimples cratering her rosy cheeks. “And what's so funny about that?”

Ann bit her lip to stifle her laughter before answering. “I just- What would you have done if I'd sent a picture of more than my feet?”

Chapter Text

Ann was giddy, buzzing with an energy she had never felt before.

Crammed between Tib and a jovial Benfica supporter, who didn't mind sitting beside the enemy, she’d cheered and hollered and held her breath along with the other sixty thousand or so people in attendance. There was singing and banners waving and cheering so loud it all combined into a rolling thunder like nothing Ann had ever heard before.

With the score still nil-nil nearing the end of the first half, she'd held Tib's arm tight as a mistake led to an opportunity for the home squad.

But there was her captain, rushing forward, a blur of deep violet against the green grass, sliding and smothering the intruding ball, sending the player that arrived too late over top to tumble and roll. They were still sprawled out, as Anne jumped to her feet, unphased by the cleat that had no doubt clipped her in the ribs.

Her quick throw seemed to catch the opposition off guard. They were still on the attack, believing the direction of play was very much still in their favour, while Anne threw it back in their faces.

The ball landed neatly at the feet of Halifax's young French phenom, Eugenie Pierre, and after losing the one defender that remained she took her shot.

Tib had caught her up on all the players over the course of the first half. Explaining when and from where they'd been acquired, their style of play, their strengths and weaknesses. Ann took it all in, nodding and trying to learn.

But even as Eugenie’s rocket of a shot rippled the netting, her eyes remained on Anne.

Their seats were near enough to see her. At the half line and ten or so rows up. Ann could just make out that the hair that had slipped from her ponytail was plastered to Anne's neck with sweat. She wiped the drops from her face with her forearm, panting in the heat.

When Tib screamed and jumped out of her seat, Ann smiled and clapped, watching as Anne's reaction was merely a clenched fist. She celebrated with nothing else and accepted some firm claps on the back before walking back to her goal.

They played only a minute more, before the whistle blew.

“They’ll be off kilter the second half now,” Tib nearly had to shout to be heard, sitting down and adjusting her jersey. “Fucking Annie's unbelievable out there today. She knows you're watching that's why.”

Ann blushed and played with the hem of the United t-shirt she was sporting. “Do you think she got hurt when that player collided with her?”

Tib shook her head. “God no! That's just a day at the office for Annie. Don't you worry. I doubt she even felt it.”

They chatted during the break. Tib made her laugh often, telling scandalous stories from her youth, and Ann realized that with the pleasant company and the distraction of the match and watching Anne in her element, she hadn't felt at all anxious that morning. The cramped seats and corridors, the din of the crowd were exhilarating rather than terrifying.

She felt alive.

Tib's prediction was correct. The second half was a rout, as though they were playing an entirely different team. By three-nil Ann was no longer concerned with the competition and her focus left the game entirely and shifted to watching Anne.

“She doing anything interesting?” Tib asked with a laugh. The play was firmly in Benfica’s half and it was obvious Ann was staring in the opposite direction.

She blushed. “I'm that obvious aren't I?”

“It's adorable,” Tib answered, bumping Ann's shoulder with her own.

Some home fans started leaving with ten minutes to go. Ann was shocked when Isabella stood along with them and gestured for Ann to do the same.

“Come on,” she started. “I'll get you closer to your woman.”

Ann needed no further explanation. Tib took her hand and weaved them through the crowd expertly. They made their way down towards the tunnel, stopping at a gate at the edge of the pitch. Putting her fingers to her lips, Tib let out a whistle loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

A woman in a United branded track suit standing near the tunnel entrance turned at the sound.

“Let us down Cordingley, will you?”

The woman strode over and said a few words to a nearby security guard, who subsequently unlocked the gate and ushered them down.

Tib clapped her hard on the back as they made their way into the tunnel. “Thanks Liz. Allow me to introduce you,” she went on as Ann made her way over in Tib's wake..

“Elizabeth, this is Ann. Ann, Elizabeth. Cordingley is our very amazing goalkeeping coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” said the round, rosy cheeked woman, and Ann immediately took a liking to her. “Not much coaching I've had to do lately, the likes of her out there.”

“You can still put her through her paces. She's a sucker for punishment.”

Tib and Elizabeth made conversation until the final whistle blew, while Ann loitered about the entrance, peering to see Anne but weary of the cameras. With one more goal against them in stoppage time, the home team was the first off the pitch.

The three women moved against the wall, their dejected host coming down the tunnel at a pace, some clearly angry and frustrated, others with their heads down.

Ann hung back with Cordingley as the United players started filtering in. Tib was out offering congratulations and firm handshakes.

Samuel Washington spotted Ann and offered a warm smile. She waved shyly and smiled in return, and then there was Anne. The last one off, carrying a small crystal trophy topped with a football.

Ann bit her lip and pressed back against the cool concrete at her back as Anne strode down, chin up, shoulders square, she nearly swaggered down towards them.

“Not bad, Cordingley,” she said, holding up her trophy. “Another one for our case.”

Elizabeth smirked and took the offered prize. “I'll put it with the others.”

Anne slapped a hand down on her coach's shoulder. “Let's keep our review of the match for when we're home. I think I'd much rather spend my evening seeing what Lisbon has to offer.”

When she spoke her deep, dark eyes flitted to Ann, taking her in with one quick, but intense look.

Cordingley looked between them, and Ann knew that after knowing Anne for so long, surely her coach had figured out what they were about.

“Of course, Captain. It was nice to meet you Miss Walker,” she directed politely to Ann.

“It was very nice meeting you,” she returned, managing to sound unperturbed by Anne's proximity.

Isabella had also made a strategic exit with the rest of the team, and, but for a lingering security guard at the mouth of the tunnel, they were alone.

Anne surged forward, pressing Ann between the wall and her firm, hot body. Her free hand snaked behind Ann's neck tangling in the wispy hairs beneath her ponytail.

Ann moaned, her hands bunching the damp jersey that clung to Anne's waist.

“I thought of you all match,” Anne admitted, as they pulled apart. “God, when you’re watching it's an inspiration I've never known.”

Ann pulled their bodies closer again. “I missed every goal. I was only watching you,” she panted against Anne's lips. Perhaps it was the heat, the exhilaration of the match, but Ann felt giddy and it lent itself to boldness. “I want you.”

Anne groaned and pulled away reluctantly. “I'll find Tib and you can head back to the hotel. I desperately need a shower. I'm disgusting. I shouldn't even be thinking about touching you.”

Ann whimpered and pressed forward, bringing a hand up to touch Anne's still hot, flushed face. “I like it,” she admitted. “I like seeing you like this.”

Anne pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, looking away in that way Ann was learning to hate.

“Still… I need a shower and I've got to address the troops. Let me tell Tib you're waiting and then I won't be more than an hour getting back.”

Ann nodded and tipped her chin up, drawing Anne's eyes back to her. The invitation was accepted with a soft kiss.

“Order us some room service when you get back, whatever seems good to you. I'm starving.”

Ann smiled, biting her lip and looking up through her lashes. “Yes, Captain.”

Anne's eyebrows rose. “I think you will be the death of me.”

“Not to interrupt the celebration ladies,” said Tib coming up the tunnel. “But they're starting to wonder where you're at Annie.”

Anne groaned and stepped back further. “Fine,” she sighed. “I won't be long.”

Ann nodded and accepted another quick kiss before Anne took off.

She patted Tib's shoulder on the way by and Ann watched her disappear around the corner.

Tib offered Ann her arm and a wide smile as she approached. “So, Miss Walker, what did you think of your first big game?”

Chapter Text

Ann had never crawled into someone's lap.
Her mother, though kind, had not been overly physically affectionate.

She could only recall once sitting on someone's knee. It had been her father and she'd tried to scurry away only to be held in place. She'd been playing in his office, not even ten years old at the time, and he’d knocked her away for being underfoot.

Immediately regretful, he had pulled her up on his knee and attempted to apologize only to be dropped to the floor when she wouldn't stop crying.

“Can't you stop that, and be more like your sister?” He'd hollered as she fled from the room.

She was still nothing like her sister. Her sister certainly wouldn't be straddling Anne Lister, grinding against her, shirt on the floor and bra in the process of being unhooked.

She wasn't like anybody. She was only herself and the moments that had shaped her. That had never been enough for anyone. Sometimes not even herself. Until she'd met Anne.

The room service cart beside the couch was long forgotten, though they'd gotten through at least some of the things Ann had ordered. They'd talked of the match, whether Ann had had a good time.

Was the crowd too much? No. Was it too loud? No. Had Tib behaved herself? Yes. Had she really? Yes.

Had she been too enthralled by Anne to really notice much else? Ann’s response had only been to bite her lip and smile. Which was when Anne had pulled her into her lap and into a long, passionate kiss. She'd lost her new United t-shirt soon after.

And now, Anne's mouth had moved along her jaw and neck, until she was nipping at Ann's shoulder, teeth impatiently tugging at the satin strap of Ann’s bra.

Ann giggled at her impatience and took her hands off broad shoulders so her bra could fall between them. Her soft laughter turned to a whimper as she was laid bare, her breasts bouncing between them. Anne's hands came up between their bodies to hold and squeeze them. Both women moaned at the contact.

Ann arched her back, pressing her breasts against Anne's palms. The tough calluses scratched her delicate skin and she whimpered again at the sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Anne groaned, running her hands down Ann's smooth skin. They left goosebumps across her belly before they came to rest on her thighs, fingers pressing into the sides, thumbs caressing under the frayed edges of Ann's denim shorts.

Ann shivered through it all. The cool air of the suite against her exposed skin, Anne's hands on her thighs, her lips and tongue which had ventured down from her neck to the tops of her breasts.

“Fuck,” Anne repeated, her breath hot against Ann's increasingly flush skin. “I've got to have you.”

Ann's only response was the instinctive grind of her hips, pressing herself as much as she could against the seam of her shorts. The satin material of Anne's track pants was soft against her inner thighs. She clutched at the shoulders of the matching jacket, desperately trying to bring herself closer.

“Did you work yourself up today, Adney?” Anne asked, bringing a hand from Ann's thigh to her breast and kneading the pliant flesh gently.

Ann whimpered. “Yes,” she hissed as an answer to both the question and Anne's tongue swirling around her nipple.

“When did you start thinking about me fucking you?”

Ann gulped. Anne hadn't ever spoken to her in such vulgar tones. Their few occasions together had always been sweeter and more tender than what Ann, even in her inexperience, would have considered fucking. Everything soft, slow and at Ann's request.

Not this. Anne had pulled her into her lap, had taken off her shirt and bra without asking explicitly for consent.

Ann panted and clutched at Anne's track jacket. She was enjoying the shift. Especially after watching Anne in her element. Commanding, powerful, confident.

Sweaty.

Ann whimpered at the graze of teeth against her nipple. “Oh lord, all match,” she admitted.

Anne's lips pulled away and she whimpered again. “Don't stop,” she pleaded.

Without even a grunt of effort, Anne lifted them off the couch. Ann held fast, her legs wrapping around Anne's narrow hips.

Ann gasped. She didn't think she'd ever get accustomed to Anne's displays of strength on and off the pitch.

“The second half my mind wandered to you every other minute,” Anne murmured as she maneuvered them to the bedroom. “Extra time was excruciating, pointless moments keeping me from you.”

She set Ann on the bedcover, her hands going immediately to the button of Ann's shorts.

Ann sat up before she could accomplish her task, pulling her hair loose from its tie. She would never tire of the power her hair seemed to have. Anne nearly growled as Ann shook it out. She grinned at the effect and sat up further pushing Anne's track jacket off broad shoulders.

“Take it all off,” she insisted, laying back and lifting her foot hooked her painted toe into the waistband of Anne's tracksuit bottoms, snapping the elastic playfully.

Anne raised an eyebrow and complied, her own grin spreading across her face. Now in only her black sports bra and matching boxer briefs, she reached again for Ann's shorts, tugging them and the lace beneath down her slender legs.

“Fuck, Adney,” Anne breathed, getting on the bed finally, and kissing her way back up those same legs.

Ann moaned and spread them, Anne finding her way between them immediately, her mouth now nipping and kissing Ann's soft stomach.

Ann scratched her glittering nails through the shorn hair at the back of Anne's head.

There was that contrast between them that made her squirm. She mewled and whimpered as Anne slithered back down her body.

Those hands she always admired, tanned and soft where they weren't calloused, pressed into the pliant flesh of her thighs, pushing her legs further apart.

A week ago she would have felt embarrassed and exposed at her position, wanton and needy, but now she couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else but on her back, knees spread, at Anne's mercy.

She squirmed at the first stroke of Anne's tongue, moaning as she threw her head back.

Her hands gripped the back of Anne's head as her hips lifted, attempting to press herself against the eager tongue that was moving far too slowly for her liking.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly. “I-”

“What baby?” Anne asked, the breath of her question burning against Ann's sopping flesh. “Tell me what you need.”

Ann squirmed, she could spread her legs so easily, so desperately, but couldn't seem to actually voice what she wanted.

Anne seemed to read her mind. “Don't be embarrassed,” she whispered, kissing the inside of Ann's thigh. “I want to do whatever you need me to do, baby. There's nothing else I want more.”

Ann took a tremulous breath, and took a hand from where it was threaded with Anne's hair and brought to the hand that was gripping her left hip.

“Fingers,” she managed, pushing Anne's hand over between her legs.

She felt Anne smile against her. “Fuck, baby,” she groaned, nipping at her delicate skin of her thigh. “You are so fucking hot,” she murmured.

Ann felt the tip of a long finger swirl through the delta between her thighs, the wet sound of it reaching her ears between her gasps and whimpers.

She wasn't sure she felt it enter her, not as Anne's tongue simultaneously connected again, hot and incessant, adding to her slickness.

“Oh God,” she choked out, back arching, pressing her head back against the bed.

A few soft strokes and licks and she felt the second, the subtle stretch and then the pressure they built and built as Anne curled those perfect, skilled fingers, as her mouth remained relentless.

The waves began, the first slight laps moving up the sand and slowly retreating, leaving only a few traces of their froth. They soon began to swell, just as her back arched further, as her hands grasped the bedcovers, as her heels pressed deeper into the mattress.

They pounded now against her shore, spray shooting into the air as the water crashed against the rocks steadily. Harder than they ever had.

Ann gasped, twisting on the bed, Anne's free arm was thrown across her belly holding her in place, unable to escape the onslaught of the ocean.

She moaned and whimpered. Murmuring words she didn't recognize. A litany of ‘Anne’ tumbling from her lips. The waves crashed faster and harder.

With one final, strangled scream and shudder, Ann succumbed to the storm. She was drenched, the sand of her beach carved with rivulets and soaked with spray.

She tugged at Anne's hair, at her shoulders, the straps of her sports bra. She took a deep breath of salty air and pulled at Anne until they were face to face, but it didn't stop.

“Oh, god,” she gasped, as the waves crept up again.

Anne swallowed the next moan, Ann's lip between her teeth as her fingers curled and pressed. The final wave crested, white capped and rolling.

For a moment, Ann thought she saw lightning, heard thunder. Maybe she did, her eyes screwed shut and Anne panting in her ear, then whispering. What a good girl she was. How good she felt. Better than any victory. Better than raising any trophy.

“I'd give it all up, just to watch you come.”

Chapter Text

Her nails were still digging into Anne's back as she returned to herself.

“Oh dear,” she sighed, breathing deep for the first time since they had moved to the bedroom.

Anne chuckled and gently removed her hand from between Ann's legs, and slipped it beneath the waistband of her own pants.

“Oh,” Ann repeated, her eyes flitting down and then back up to Anne's.

“Is this alright?” Anne asked, her hand now static between them, the muscles of her free arm and shoulder hard and bulging with the strain of supporting her weight.

Ann nodded. “Would you rather I…” She trailed off.

Anne answered the unfinished question with her own. “Do you want to?”

Ann didn't quite understand at first. Who wouldn't want to? But that look had come into Anne's eyes, dark and sad and lurking.

Emboldened by her overwhelming urge to vanquish it and whatever sad recollections were its cause, Ann slithered her hand between them until it rested over Anne's.

“Show me,” she murmured, before kissing Anne's lips tenderly.

Anne hesitated, but didn't object. She brought her forehead down to Ann's shoulder and started to move her fingers, pulling Ann's along.

Ann moaned at the wetness she felt even with her limited contact. She followed Anne's movements, her free hand went to the back of Anne's neck, holding her close, baring more weight.

Ann was pinned tight against the mattress, her legs spread wide. The slight thrusts that began to rock her sent a frisson up her spine.

She moaned at the possibilities she had never imagined, as Anne panted against her bare skin. She threw her head back and tried to focus on what Anne was doing. It felt amazing, feeling Anne and hearing her become quickly undone, being the catalyst for her pleasure. She'd never imagined feeling anything like this.

“Anne,” she purred, scratching her nails against the now slick skin of Anne's neck. Her other hand slipped from where it followed.

Ann was preparing to move her fingers out of the way until Anne groaned, and with her own, pressed Ann’s firmly against her wet flesh.

“There?” She asked breathlessly.

Anne nodded against her shoulder. “Fuck Adney,” she panted. “I'm going to have to have you again.”

Ann moaned. “You can have me. However much you need of me.”

Anne's panting became rapid gulps for air as she pressed and rubbed Ann's fingers harder and faster. They soon fell out of rhythm, but Ann didn't stop, continuing the pattern unguided.

“Fuck,” Anne ground out between gritted teeth, barely producing a sound, as she buried her face against Ann's neck. Her body tensed, hips grinding down between Ann's spread legs, pressing against her bared flesh in a way that made her moan.

Her hand, now trapped, was forced to stop its motions.

Anne lifted enough to pull her own hand free and Ann followed suit, bringing hers to Anne's backside and squeezing the taut muscle, wanting to feel more of Anne grinding and pressing down against her.

“You like that,” Anne breathed, kissing under her ear and across her jaw.

Ann sighed. “Yes.”

Anne rocked her hips. “God baby, the things I could do to you.”

Ann whimpered. “Do them. Whatever it is.”

Anne smiled against damp skin. “In time,” she murmured, pulling away her smile broad and lascivious. “I think for now,” she started, slinking down Ann's body. “I’m still a bit peckish after my match.”

Ann wasn't sure how much time passed between her last of three more orgasms, and feeling Anne's fingers combing through her hair.

She hummed and snuggled closer to the firm source of warmth that enveloped her.

Anne had managed at some point to get them under the covers, and Ann was cocooned in soft cotton and Anne's strong arms.

“That nice?” Anne asked softly, when Ann let out a contented sigh.

“Lovely,” she answered, opening her eyes and looking up into Anne's dark eyes. “I've never been happier.”

Anne smirked and winked. “I should hope so.”

Ann shook her head and nipped playfully at the shoulder beneath her lips. “Not just from that. Naughty. From everything,” she went on, pressing her face into Anne's neck. “You make me happy in so many ways.”

Anne fidgetted, her fingers toying with a tangle at the base of Ann's curls. “Yeah?”

Ann sighed and kissed her jaw gently. “Yeah,” she repeated, nuzzling in as close as she could.

Anne's fingers continued to play with her hair, blunt nails occasionally scratching her scalp. She was lulled into a near stupor, swaying along the precipice of sleep, until Anne's voice drew her from the edge.

“You make me happy too, Adney.”

It was barely a whisper and Ann realized as Anne continued talking that she must have believed Ann was asleep again.

“No one has ever wanted me just as I am, until you. No one has ever accepted me so readily, so completely.”

The words that followed were barely audible, murmured into Ann's hair.

“Don't hurt me.”

Ann shut her eyes tight to stymy the tears that threatened. She wouldn't. She would hold Anne's heart as delicately as she could, and hoped it would be forever. She would protect her in all the ways she could, and make certain to cherish and celebrate those things others had thought it acceptable to diminish. The depth of her feelings for Anne would forever be immeasurable.

“I love you,” she breathed, her body betraying her during her silent vows.

“Adney?”

Ann pressed her face, and treacherous lips against Anne's shoulder.

“Ann?”

She sighed and pulled back, looking up into deep, inquisitive brown eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

Ann nodded. “Yes, and I know it's soon,” she went on quickly. “And you don't have to say it back, and I know I've never really done this before, but I don't know what else to call all the feelings I have but love.”

Anne cupped her cheek delicately in a warm palm, brushing aside a stray wisp of hair from Ann's burning face.

“I would never hurt you, Anne,” she added in a whisper.

Anne closed her eyes, a single tear escaping silently. “I know, Adney.”

And in that single word, Ann was transported to Shibden. To a bridge and the dark passage beneath it. A young Anne eager to understand herself, longing for comfort and affection.

Adney. It wasn't a declaration, but between the syllables Ann felt every emotion it conveyed.

Chapter Text

Ann screeched, her socked feet slipping on the marble floor as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Anne was quickly descending behind her, as she attempted to make the sharp turn towards the kitchen.

“Anne!” She cried, feeling the fingers that brushed her, temporarily getting a hold of her loose t-shirt. Her squeal echoed through the empty house as strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was lifted off the floor.

“Come back to bed, Adney,” Anne purred in her ear, holding her tight as she placed Ann back on the ground.

A hand reached down and slid against Ann's bare thigh left exposed by her barely long enough Adidas tshirt. A shirt of Anne's that had quickly become hers during their Lisbon getaway.

“We barely left bed to fly home, you beast,” Ann laughed.

Anne nipped a pliant ear. “Precisely, we need to make up for lost time. You can put that little slip of silk you call a nightgown back on, and I can indulge in taking it off again.

Ann shook her head. “You already indulged. You ripped it, remember?”

Abashed, Anne buried her face in Ann's neck and flowing hair. “Well we'd spent that day at the museum and by the time we got back I had to have you, baby.”

Ann hummed. Anne had been particularly passionate that night. Luckily their flight hadn't been until well into the afternoon. She silently thanked the originator of the late check out.

“You're so sexy when you're talking about art.”

Ann giggled. “Oh yeah?”

Anne kissed her neck. “Oh yeah. Like the day we met. You're captivating when you're so excited, and I don't think you get as excited for anything as you do about art.”

“Oh, there might be something else now that gets me as excited.”

Anne's throaty chuckle tickled against her neck. “Let's find out shall we,” she murmured, long fingers pushing aside the flimsy lace of Ann's pants.

Ann squealed and struggled from Anne's firm hold. “Stop that,” she laughed. “Let's have some breakfast before you have to go to training.”

Anne sighed. “Fine,” she relented. “I better get dressed.”

“Can you bring me some kind of bottoms from my closet!” Ann called after her, as the sound of Anne's footsteps travelled up the stairs.

With a final giggle and skip, Ann headed off towards the kitchen.

She hummed as she put the kettle on the hob, and pondered at the open refrigerator over what her limited culinary abilities could assemble somewhat competently.

“You're awfully happy for the first thing in the morning.”

The swirl of cold air as she slammed the refrigerator door reached Ann's heart.

“Elizabeth,” she tried to keep the panic from her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Well hello to you too,” her sister replied with a raised eyebrow. “I was trying to get a hold of you all day yesterday.”

A vivid image of her mobile still in airplane mode flashed through Ann's mind. She cursed silently while Elizabeth continued.

“Catherine said she'd spoken to you Sunday. That you were deep in your paints, but you were nowhere to be found yesterday, and then Aunt had stopped by and said you weren't here. We worry about you, Annie, rattling around in this house after…everything.”

Ann fidgeted and busied herself taking the kettle off the heat. She took a deep breath and prayed Anne would stay upstairs a while longer, but she would never be so blessed.

She turned back to face Elizabeth just as they both heard Anne's quick footsteps approaching.

“Will these do, Adney?” She was asking as she entered the kitchen, holding out a pair of fleece pants, looking them over, oblivious to the other woman in the room.

Ann kept her eyes on the floor, as she felt Elizabeth's bore into her.

“Annie?”

She looked up through her lashes, long enough to see Anne acknowledge her sister.

“Oh, I've never quite liked being called Annie. I don't think it's ever suited me,” Anne replied quickly, striding around the kitchen.

“Here darling,” she whispered, pushing aside Ann's hair that had fallen over her face. “Don't worry. I'll not be scared off.”

Anne turned, keeping Ann covered as she slipped on her bottoms.

“I was talking to my sister,” Elizabeth responded pointedly.

Anne remained unphased. “Of course. Tea Ms. Walker?” She asked, reaching just passed Ann for the canister of bags on the counter. She went about pulling down three mugs, not waiting for an answer.

Ann felt frozen, useless. She kept her eyes on the floor, unable to face newfound disappointment from her family, no matter how unwarranted.

“I'll not be offered tea by you, in my own house.” Was Elizabeth's acerbic reply.

Ann bristled, finally looking up and reaching for Anne's hand. She squeezed it and pulled Anne back towards her.

“It's my home too, Liz,” she managed, her voice only quivering around the L. “It's ours, but I chose to live here again and try to make it someplace I can finally be happy. Anne makes me happy.”

Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath, eyes closed. She said nothing for a long moment.

Ann held fast to Anne's hand and arm, pressing her hot face against the back of Anne's shoulder.

“Remind me how much older you are than my sister again, Lister?”

Ann's head shot up and she felt Anne stiffen.

Elizabeth didn't wait for an answer before she continued. “And I'm sure you're aware of her immeasurable vulnerabilities?”

Ann felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes. “Liz…” She breathed.

“I believe Ms. Walker you've built me up into all manner of things I am not. And I'm shocked to discover you have the same unfavourable and limited view of your sister's abilities as the rest of your family seem to have.”

Anne turned at that to draw a crying Ann into her arms completely.

“And you're going to discover I have very limited patience for such disparaging talk about Ann, and I know you, of all people, are aware that the end of my rope leads me to swift action. That applies on and off the pitch.”

Elizabeth straightened. “Oh, we all know what you're capable of, captain,” she spat. “It's been in the papers for years.”

Anne sighed and Ann felt her sag slightly at the mention of the tabloids overblown ideas about her personal life.

“I understand you think you're looking out for your sister, but I can assure you Ms. Walker, that what's between Ann and me is not something casual.”

Ann glanced up, but sadly found Elizabeth's expression as cold and unmoving as ever. She hated the moments her sister reminded her of their father.

She wanted to scream. How could no one in her life ever be completely on her side? Was she so hopeless? So incapable?

She pressed her face into Anne's chest. Her shirt smelled of Ann's detergent. She'd washed it here herself, and folded it, and placed it in the closet on a shelf she'd cleared for a few of Anne's things that had begun to linger around the house.

Her house.

Ann raised her head, and still sheltered in Anne's embrace, faced her sister.

"Leave, Elizabeth," she started, managing to sound firm, despite the slight tremor in her voice. "I'll come to your office, later. Okay?" She said, her tone gentler as Anne stroked her hair.

Elizabeth let out a slow breath. "Fine," she sighed, and left without another word.

The slam of the heavy front door, rang the antique bell on its chain.

Ann flinched at the rattle and sank into Anne's embrace.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured.

Anne kissed the top of her head. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Adney."

"Don't let them frighten you away."

Anne shook her head, nose buried in Ann's unruly hair. "Not possible. Do you really believe there's anything on this Earth that could keep me from you? I'm far more concerned they'll convince you to part with me."

Ann lifted her face from Anne's shoulder. "Never," she was quick to say. "Anne, I could never explain how my life has changed since you became a part of it. I love my sister, but there's nothing she could ever say to keep me from you."

She stroked Anne's cheek softly with her thumb as she spoke, Anne pressing her face against her palm.

"I've never had what I've had with you, Adney. Something so honest, so accepting. Don't hurt me. I'm not as strong as you think."

Ann smiled softly, swiping away the single tear that had escaped down Anne's cheek.

"No?" She asked with a soft smile.

Anne smiled back, shrugging off her brief moment of vulnerability.

"Well I am, obviously," she paused and looked down abashedly, and for once it was Ann who was catching her cheek in a soft palm, lifting Anne's face up again.

"But sometimes I'm not."

Ann kissed her softly then, languidly. A reassurance.

"I love you, Anne. I'm in love with you. I always will be."

They collided. Ann pulled in by the seams of her shirt and held by string hands on her waist. Lips never parting, she was quickly lifted onto the counter.

"God," she gasped as Anne's kissed started their descent down her neck. She threw her head back, legs wrapping around Anne's waist.

She lifted enough to allow the sweatpants she'd hastily adorned to be relegated to the floor.

"Anne," she moaned. "We haven't time for this. You have training."

Anne shook her head as she kissed what bit of Ann's chest was exposed by her baggy tshirt.

"I've got to taste you," she murmured against Ann's skin. "And surely a point in your favour with your sister that you keep me from training, no?"

Ann laughed. It was hearty and the final thing she needed to wash away the last anxiety of the morning.

She pushed playfully against the top of Anne's head. "Get on with it then," she ordered, still giggling.

Anne made swift work of her pleasure, and left Ann a quivering mess, her pants still looped around one ankle, hanging there wantonly, as her legs dangled off the edge of counter.

"I've got to go," Anne murmured, with a kiss. "As much as I hate going, I do so much love leaving you like this," she finished with a leacherous look at Ann's dishevelled state.

"I'll call you when training is over, but if you need me before then text Tib, okay? She can get me on the pitch. Let me know how things turn out with your sister."

Ann pulled her in for a final kiss. "I love you," she reiterated. "I'll not let them keep me from you."