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“I’m back!” yells Mabel, wandering into the Green Parlor. “I found new orchids! They’re in the kitchen!”
Her vocal inflections don’t come off particularly well, and she knows she’s being a little too loud, but it’s okay! She’s excited! And Anna has never been rude about it before!
“Hi, baby,” Anna says absentmindedly, accepting Mabel’s kiss on her forehead while still largely distracted by her book. Mabel, for her part, blushes bright pink and stands back up to flap her hands as subtly as possible. The walls of the house push her back towards Anna (the traitor! How dare it try to embarrass her!) but fortunately Anna doesn’t look up, far too engrossed in the novel.
Anna only registers what she said about a minute late, closing her book. “Mabel?”
“Hm?” says Mabel, who has not stopped flapping and is now rocking herself on the balls of her feet.
“I didn’t ask you if that was okay, and I should have. Do you mind me calling you endearments?”
“No!” Mabel says— yells, more accurately, flapping her hands faster. “No! Nope! Nuh-uh, I don’t mind, I like them, they make me feel— like. Like river water.”
“In what way?” Anna asks, smiling at her, the sort of nervous half-smile she always does whenever Mabel surprises her.
“Like all my guts are that sort of foam you get when water goes over a dam,” Mabel responds, closing her eyes to picture it better. “You, in this case, would be the basin at the end of a waterfall, which catches all of the overflow. I like the names. You should keep using them.”
“Babe,” Anna says (cue more flapping), “that is the gayest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Well,” Mabel responds, flustered, “that’s because I am in love with you.”
“Shocker, shocker.” Anna holds up her hand to show Mabel her ring. “That is why we’re married.”
Mabel smiles at her and then paces around the room for a few minutes, thinking about the best combinations for the flowers in the big third-floor window and how nice Anna looks today. When she gets bored, she sits on the arm of the couch and leans over until she’s comfortably got her head on Anna’s shoulder, playing with her wedding ring to get rid of the last bouts of energy.
“Can I tell you about my book,” Anna asks, voice flat. Mabel hums. “Cool. There’s a ghost child who wanders around the edge of town, and—“
Mabel is not usually a terribly good listener, but she scribbles down what Anna says onto a spare piece of paper, doing her best to keep up and asking questions when she feels it’s a good time. When Anna finishes and goes back to reading, Mabel tucks the paper into her shirt pocket and wraps one arm around Anna’s stomach, closing her eyes against the light streaming in from outside.
“It’s only two,” says Anna teasingly. “Since when do you take naps in the afternoon?”
“Since my wife decided she would read in the Green Parlor all day and not mind if I fall asleep on her,” Mabel responds, eyes still closed. To prove her point, she pushes her head against Anna’s shoulder. “Am I supposed to just refuse that chance?”
“At least let me get you— one second,” says Anna, and then there’s a sound like a vortex opening up. Mabel feels Anna tuck a blanket around her shoulders. “There.”
“How domestic.”
“Mmm, well, spending the first three years of your relationship fighting monsters and gutting tyrants—“
“And falling in love with a monster!”
“Yes, that, and beating down an evil cult—“
“And killing clones—“
“Don’t say that too loud, Vera’s still sensitive— anyway, doing all that will lead to earning some domesticity, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Mabel opens one of her eyes for a moment, catching a glimpse of Anna looking at her like she’d hung all the stars in the sky. It’s a sight that kind of makes her want to cry and kind of makes her want to kiss Anna, but she does neither, just smiles.
“I love you,” she says, and she doesn’t need to mask her tone at all.
“I love you too.” Anna pauses, shivering a little in the way she does when she has an intrusive thought. “I called you baby a few times before when you were unconscious. I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Mabel asks, doing the logical thing and sitting up for a moment so she can hold onto Anna more comfortably. “I said it was alright. You’re good.”
“It just makes me think of when you got shot,” Anna says quietly, blunt in the way she gets before an anxiety attack. “I don’t like thinking about that because you got hurt, and—“
“It’s okay,” Mabel says firmly. “I’m safe and alive. The scar on my arm has not burst into infective flames yet, except when I want it to. You saved me, and I love you, and I want you to be here with me forever.”
“Promise?”
“Of course I promise,” Mabel says without a second of hesitation. “Now tell me more about your book until I fall asleep, or I will actually be upset. That is a joke.”
Anna pulls Mabel into her arms and begins to talk, quiet at first before getting more and more excited about everything she’s saying.
There’s no nicer way Mabel could think of spending an afternoon.