Chapter Text
Mel’s bed is empty when she wakes up.
Again.
She’s groggy and still mostly asleep, but she knows the bed is empty because it’s cold at her back.
It’s cold because there is a Demon Overlord missing, one that would usually be spooning her right about now.
(Abigael Jameson-Caine likes to spoon. Who would have guessed?)
(Literally everyone that’s met her and knows how soft she actually is under all the tough and heartless exterior she puts on.)
(The one that’s meant to mask the abused little girl that just wants to be loved.)
Then, Mel hears it.
It takes her a moment to recognize it, not just because she’s still sleep-addled, but also because- it’s so ridiculous?
Someone (Abigael Jameson-Caine, to be exact) is in her room…
… Humming the theme song to Xena: Warrior Princess.
Abigael sits at the vanity, dressed to impress (or kill, depending on what the purpose of her outing is, Mel muses) and applying her mascara as she keeps humming.
Mel can’t take it anymore, “Are you humming the Xena theme song?”
Abigael’s startled enough to poke herself in the eye with her mascara wand, eye squeezed shut and cussing like a sailor before turning to face the bed, face flushed even as she snarks.
“Good morning, darling. How did you sleep? I’m very well, thank you.”
Mel, at least, looks apologetic as she smiles at Abigael.
“Sorry. Are you okay? You look beautiful…”
And she does. Expensive too in her designer black jumpsuit, with lace and embroidered dark roses around the collar and across her shoulders. Taking in the perfectly styled hair, and the subtle makeup look that’s made to pop with red lipstick, Mel feels an uncomfortable tickle in the back of her throat at the sight.
Mel is not one to feel- less about herself, her looks. She doesn’t believe in feeling like she has to compete with other women; that’s what men want you to worry about to keep you distracted.
She knows she’s gorgeous. And she knows Abigael is too. She also knows that what she and Abigael have is absolutely real, that she has nothing to worry about.
Objectively, she knows all of these things.
But she also knows that while she’d never hurt Mel by cheating or anything asinine like that, Abigael is not exactly shy about her sexual desires, or her past. The woman oozes charm and confidence, so much strength and raw sex appeal.
And she’s not afraid to use any of her skills or talents to get what she wants.
(Maggie jokes that Abigael would be a Slytherin, what Draco Malfoy could have been if he had reformed sooner.)
And, well, Mel’s pregnant. So very suddenly so, so very much so. She went from being- herself, to practically nine months pregnant overnight. Neither she nor Abigael had a chance to adjust to the… physical changes.
(They didn’t get to have a night of wild sex before Mel needed help rolling over in bed, okay, that’s what she means.)
And, again, she knows that being pregnant doesn’t diminish her attractiveness in any way. Abigael has spent the last week telling her as much, just as attracted (see: horny) for Mel as she always has been.
Objectively, she knows this.
But she’s hormonal, tired, and emotional.
She’s insecure.
And seeing Abigael so dressed up so early in the day, obviously about to go out somewhere without Mel, without even mentioning her plans to her? It doesn’t help.
Still, she doesn’t say anything about it because it’s absolutely ridiculous. Right?
Abigael takes another few moments to fix herself up and add the finishing touches to her makeup, but she doesn’t linger at the vanity, Mel notices, as her gestures are quicker than earlier.
(Eager to be at Mel’s side.)
She’s aiming her softest smile at Mel as she moves back to sit beside her on the bed. Abigael’s fingers are warm as they cover Mel’s in a gentle exploration before bringing her hand up to kiss the back.
(She doesn’t even care about her meticulously applied lipstick as her lips linger against Mel’s skin.)
Her voice is equally as soft as her smile, “and you are breathtaking, Melanie Vera.”
Mel melts, bringing her hand – now covered with both of Abigael’s – to her chest, blushing a little as she smiles up at her.
Still, she can’t help teasing still.
“So. Xena, huh?”
Abigael rolls her eyes, but smiles.
“There was a marathon on last night after you lot went to bed.”
Mel tries her hardest to keep her smile in place, but it slips a little.
“You didn’t sleep again last night?”
Abigael, for her part, keeps her smile, but Mel sees the tension in her muscles. She shifts up a little more, Abigael helping her prop her pillows up how she likes them, and Mel takes a closer look at Abby’s face.
There is a weariness in Abby’s eyes that hasn’t really left since her stint in the Tomb. It’s been getting worse steadily in the weeks that followed the Tomb and the trial. She’s not sure if she remembers the last time Abby’s slept longer than 3 hours. If she sleeps at all.
“I had some work to go over. Both for the company, and as Demon Overlord. You know kingdoms don’t just run themselves.”
She’s joking, her voice is trying to anyway, but it never reaches her eyes.
“And now you’re going out.”
“I’m meeting Waverly for brunch.”
And that’s a new thing, which Mel’s happy about – don’t get her wrong – but she also worries.
Abigael and Waverly are working together, both to get the Blade of Clarity from Francesca and on their own relationship. But it takes work, and she knows they have a lot of bad blood between them to work through. And the two shared some- intense words when Mel first met Waverly, the hostility suffocating.
Hostility she knows hasn’t completely gone away yet, even if they played nice once Waverly’s demon hunter was vanquished. Because, sometimes, after Abigael gets back from these outings, her shoulders are hunched and her demeanor is… defeated. Sad.
(Unloved.)
It also explains why Abigael has put in a little more effort into her look for a simple brunch.
Mel knows that Abigael is trying to project a calm and composed image, in control.
Not unhinged.
So her designer outfits and powerful red lipstick is like her armor. To show Waverly that she is successful and thriving, as well as being armor to protect her.
Mel hums softly, gently reaching up to adjust a stray curl against Abigael’s temple, fingers gently trailing along her cheek to her jaw. She’s careful not to mess up Abigael’s makeup, her armor, as her fingers ghost closer to her lips.
She smiles when Abby does, tilting her head to press her lips to Mel’s wandering fingers.
“Where are you two going?”
“That wee café down the street from Safe Space. The one you love to run to when you need to hide from your sisters.”
Mel rolls her eyes in the face of Abby’s smirk. It doesn’t last long before Mel is smiling too, fingers toying with Abby’s as the latter gets a little more serious.
“How’re you feeling, did you sleep alright? Do you need anything before I go? I promise to bring you back those pistachio-flavored croissants you love, but what else would you like?”
“Say croissant again.”
Abigael laughs softly, kissing Mel’s fingers again.
(Because all Abigael wants is to never have to stop kissing Mel.)
(Because it isn’t enough to just kiss Melanie’s lips, Abigael knows. Her lips were made to worship every inch of Mel she can.)
So she kisses her fingertips as a way to sate her need for Mel, on her way to press kisses to Mel’s cheek and jaw, savoring the route to Mel’s lips.
Then, because she is absolutely at Mel’s mercy, she lowers her voice to that breathy purring quality she knows will drive Mel mad with want, accentuating the hints of a French accent as she repeats “croissant” against Mel’s cheek. Abigael relishes the shiver that she sees go through Mel as each letter of the word caresses her skin on its way to Mel’s ear.
“And you’re sure you have to go meet Waverly right now?”
Abigael’s eyes darken even as her grin remains – more or less – innocent, eyes raking over Mel’s form, “while I’d love nothing more than to spend the day in this bed with you, utterly ignoring the world outside these walls, you know I can’t. We’re getting closer to figuring out where Mother hid the Blade and forming a plan to get it.”
Mel’s pouting when Abby hesitantly continues, “And… she said she might show me pictures. Of Lydia…”
Mel softens, bringing Abby’s hands to her lips this time. Waverly still hasn’t allowed Abby to meet her niece, though Abby has been patient about it; she wants Waverly to truly see that she’s changed. But it’s hard sometimes; Waverly hasn’t even told Lydia about having an aunt, and Mel knows that hurts Abby.
“That’s wonderful, Abby. I’m so proud of you and the progress you two are making.”
Abigael doesn’t meet her eyes at the praise, but Mel doesn’t take it personally. She knows Abby struggles with feelings still.
“Go. Don’t be late, and have a lovely time, don’t worry about me. I’m just gonna boss Harry around to assemble the baby’s things today.”
“Absolutely not. Harold’s probably never even had a screwdriver to drink, let alone used one to build something. I will handle it when I’m back.”
Then she smirks and Mel’s stomach does backflips, front flips, side flips, 360 degree flips at the sight.
“Besides, I know you much prefer to watch me work anyway.”
The pair share a chuckle; Mel’s more embarrassed and telling, Abigael just pleased with herself.
“You’re sure you don’t need me to fetch you anything before I go?”
“No, but help me out of bed?”
“That’s certainly a first…”
So Abigael slips her hands into both of Mel’s gently easing her to her feet out of the bed…
… and wastes no time burying her face in Mel’s neck, spreading kisses against every sliver of skin she can feel under her lips.
It makes Mel giggle when it tickles, and that in turn makes Abigael smile against her skin, fingers holding on to Mel’s waist closer.
“Abby! You’ll ruin your makeup.”
“Worth it,” comes the muffled reply.
But she does pull back when she feels Mel’s hands gently pushing at her shoulders.
(Not before scraping her teeth against Mel’s pulse in a last, lips-parted teasing kiss. Mel’s fingers squeeze her arms then, steadying herself on her feet, and there is the faintest groan from the back of her throat. Abigael makes a mental note of it for later.)
They kiss, then, soft and slow. Lingering. Breathing each other in for another moment before Mel heads off to the bathroom.
Abigael watches her go til she can’t see her anymore.
Then her sister is calling; Abigael is late.
She barely fixes her lipstick before leaving in a puff of smoke.
When Abigael gets home in the afternoon, later than Mel thought she would be, she’s tense about something.
But Mel doesn’t get a chance to ask because Abby’s beaming the moment she lays eyes on her.
And Mel’s breath catches in her throat because this smile? It lights up Abigael’s entire face.
It shines a light on the shadows that had built up in Abby’s eyes.
She’s handed a pastry bag at the same time as Abigael’s lean in for a greeting kiss.
(And that’s been a new thing to get used to, too. The freedom to kiss and hold hands and- be together without the fear of Mel’s sisters seeing.)
Before she gets a chance to dwell on it, Abby settles on the ground at her feet, pressing a kiss to her thigh and knee while she’s at it, and whips out her phone to show Mel something.
There, on Abigael’s screen is the image of a little girl beaming at the camera while holding a stuffed giraffe that Mel’s very familiar with after spending two hours at the shop with Abby trying to pick something out.
It’s Lydia, she knows. She’d know that even if she wasn’t holding the giraffe.
Abigael looks so proud, as she rattles off the events of her morning with Waverly; about how Waverly has told her daughter that she’s got an aunt, and that Lydia is excited to meet the woman that gifted her with her favorite stuffed animal.
“… she’s named him George, isn’t that brilliant, Mel? Waverly said she picked it because she knows both George and giraffe are spelled with a G; she’s only three but she’s so bright and brilliant, just- brilliant…”
Mel can’t keep up; Abigael is so excited and happy about the events of the day. But Mel makes sure to burn this moment into her memories, onto her heart. The pure joy emanating from Abby, achingly radiant in her happiness. At peace, even temporarily. It’s rendered her usually so eloquent Abby inarticulate.
So Mel slips her fingers in Abby’s hair and gently scratches at her scalp, relishing in the feel of Abigael leaning into her touch.
“She sounds like she’s really smart, babe. I’m so glad she knows about you. Maybe you can meet her soon.”
When Abigael looks up at Mel, there’s no trace of the demons that have plagued her this past week. It warms Mel’s heart endlessly.
When Abby leans up on her knees to kiss Mel, she does so deeply and fully. Fingers carding into Mel’s hair and anchoring on her waist, Abigael pours everything she is into this kiss.
It leaves Mel breathless and dizzy. And beaming back at Abby when she sees her smile.
They spend the rest of the afternoon talking about Lydia as Abby shows Mel more pictures and the thank you card her niece made for her.
(Mel makes a mental note to put it on the fridge if Abby’s okay with it.)
And as the afternoon rolls on, Mel teasing that Waverly must have her hands full because Lydia’s got Abby’s cheeky smirk that Mel knows is dangerous when utilized correctly, Mel silently wonders if their baby will have Abby’s smile and eyes too.
(She desperately hopes so.)