Take Your Pick
By Fewthistle

For Kim, who deserves more than a drabble, but it will have to do for now. Hope that you like it.

If you'd asked her a year ago what she thought of a person so overcome with infatuation that she lay awake at night, watching her lover sleep, Tracey Kibre would have had a multitude of scathing remarks. Idiot. Whipped. Dolt. Naïve fool. Take your pick.

But that was a year ago, before she sat on a bar stool and flirted with Serena Southerlyn. Before she took her home, and took her to bed. Before she listened for hours, captivated, to Serena talk about anything and everything. Before she saw her laugh till she cried at old I Love Lucy re-runs. Before she held her while she wept at sappy Hallmark movies.

Now, in the strange liquid gold light of the city filtering in the window, Tracey lay awake and watched Serena sleep, her hair bleached to platinum, eyelashes dark against her cheeks.

Idiot? Maybe.

Whipped? Probably.

Dolt? Naïve fool? No doubt some would agree.

Odd that Tracey had a few more comments to add.

Satisfied? Unquestionably.

Content? Absolutely.

Happy? Serenely.

Take your pick.