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Vanya was driving Klaus home after a particularly gruesome battle with the rest of the Umbrella Academy. Ben had made quite the mess with the agents from the Commission. The asshole got blood and guts over everyone, and of course Klaus complained all the way home about how his favorite tunic had been ruined. Blood just does not come out of such delicate fabric—how would you even begin to clean it?

“The cult spent hours making this,” Klaus said with a dejected flair. “Now I'll have to explain the carnage and spend actual time with them. You know how frustrating that can be, Ben!”

Of course Klaus was having a one-on-one conversation on the car ride home since Ben was actually dead. Somehow it was always slightly amusing to Vanya, and she couldn't help but giggle to herself as she dropped him off at the mansion and watched him slow walk, dragging his feet, into the throngs of adorers.

Vanya finally had the car to herself. She listened to music the whole way home, jamming out to her favorite Beatles song.

“And please, say to me, you'll let me hold your hand,” she sang as she turned on to the dirt road leading up to the farm.

A hitch entered her voice as she saw the barn in the distance. Every time she neared the farm these days the butterflies began. Whenever she came home to Sissy, Vanya felt as if she was holding her breath. She imagined that the butterflies were constricting her insides from functioning in normal human ways. Although, I suppose I'm not really human . . . am I? Vanya thought. She shook her head, trying to banish the question. Her origin, along with the origins of her brothers and sister, had always been a little suspect. She had no idea what they were, truly.

As she pulled into the driveway beside the house, Vanya steadied herself and attempted to inhale deeply once more. No luck, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face as she resigned herself to shallow breathing and resonating nervousness. She didn't even care about the dirt caked in her hair, she was sure she could get it out in the bath. And of course she would need to burn her clothes. She closed the car door and walked the few steps to the front door in a single breath. She couldn't get inside fast enough. Suddenly, as she opened the door, she realized that Sissy's son, Harlan, may be nearby and probably wouldn't react well to her bloodstained clothes and general disheveled appearance. She silently kicked herself, realizing that she should have stopped at Allison's and cleaned up before coming home. Vanya had just been too eager to return to Sissy.

Sissy was at the door before Vanya could close it.

“Oh my! What happened? I've never seen you so messy before. Is everything alright?” Sissy sputtered, obviously distressed.

“Yes, I'm fine, Sissy. There's no need to worry,” Vanya said, quickly reassuring her by putting her hand on her shoulder.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” Vanya said, realizing that her hand was still lingering on Sissy's shoulder.

Vanya removed her hand with a shy smile as Sissy bent her head, a slow blush spreading across her face.

“Well I suppose we should get you cleaned up before Harlan wakes up from his nap. Whatever should we do with these clothes,” Sissy muttered to herself as she took in Vanya's appearance.

“We can burn them, probably better in the long run,” Vanya replied, moving into the dining room to put her keys down. “Thank you for letting me borrow the car again. I promise that I put a blanket down on the seat to avoid any bloodstains on the leather.”

Sissy sighed and put her hand on her forehead, shaking her head in a small fashion.

“Gosh,” Sissy said. “I didn't even think of that. Thank you for thinking ahead, Carl surely wouldn't like blood in his car. Thank god he's gone for the week. I didn't even think of the car! I guess I was more concerned about you . . .” Sissy said, trailing off.

They were both quiet for a moment, taking in the weight of Sissy's last words. Vanya shuffled her feet and bent her head, trying to hide her own blush this time.

Vanya cleared her throat and said “I guess I should get cleaned up then. Where would you like for me to burn the clothes?”

“Out back, we'll just have a bonfire this evening. Harlan will love that,” Sissy replied as she took the keys and put them away in a container in the kitchen. She titled her chin to her shoulder without turning around to Vanya. “Would you like for me to get you a robe? I can take your clothes,” Sissy half-whispered.

There went Vanya's breath again, stopping altogether. She attempted to inhale again and responded in a half-whisper back. “Sure.” A single word was all she could get out.

Vanya walked in silence to her room. As Vanya continued forward, Sissy grabbed a trash bag and made sure Harlan was still asleep, closing his door. Sissy stopped in her own bedroom to grab a towel and a threadbare blue robe with small yellow flowers. Finally, she walked the few feet to Vanya's closed door where Vanya was already inside. Sissy opened the door.

Vanya had just taken off her long-sleeve plaid shirt and had it in her hand. She stood looking at Sissy. Vanya was only wearing a simple white bra and jeans.

“I'm sorry for barging in!” Sissy exclaimed. “Here's a bag for your clothes and a robe,” she continued, embarrassed as she idly waited by the door awaiting Vanya's reaction.

“That's fine. There's no need to be embarrassed, right? We're fine,” a hitch creeping into Vanya's voice once more.

Sissy could only nod and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Vanya quickly finished undressing, throwing her clothes into the bag and putting the worn-in robe on. She couldn't help but notice how it smelled like Sissy—a touch of floral and citrus, Sissy's favorite perfume. But there was something else, something that was intrinsically Sissy. Vanya couldn't put her finger on it, but it immediately became her favorite scent in the world, wholly Sissy. Vanya left the bag in the room and walked to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the claw-foot bathtub, her robe coming slightly undone, revealing her thighs and collarbone. She ran the water, turning her hand over and under, testing it for the right heat. Just then, a hesitant knock could be heard in the background.

Vanya pulled her robe around her and answered, “Yes?”

It was Sissy of course, nervously standing on the other side of the door, an unopened bottle of shampoo in her hand. “Thought you might need this. May I come in?” she asked.

Vanya took another shallow breath and stood up. “Thanks. Yes, of course,” she replied.

Sissy walked in the room and took a moment, surveying Vanya in Sissy's favorite robe. Vanya's hand clutched the center close, as the shoulder fell slightly, showcasing the paleness of her skin along her neck and shoulder, leading down to the collarbone again.

Sissy gestured with the shampoo in her hand and said, “Would you like me to help you wash the dirt from your hair. It's pretty caked in there.”

Vanya averted her eyes, trying to catch her breath again. It was a never-ending battle that she certainly would not win. After an awkward moment of silence, Vanya merely nodded and reached past Sissy to shut the door behind her. As she did that, her face and chest neared Sissy ever so subtly. Vanya remained there for a brief moment, turning her face to Sissy before collecting herself and quickly walking toward the bath that was now full.

Now it was Sissy's turn to inhale quickly as Vanya moved away. Despite the dirt, Sissy felt as if she could drown in Vanya's scent. To her, that moment felt like years even though it passed by in mere seconds.

“I guess I'll just get in and then you can help me?” Vanya said, a bit unsure of herself.

She turned her back to Sissy, as Sissy averted her eyes. Vanya let the robe fall, stepping into the bathtub. Sissy raised her head and saw Vanya's chiseled back disappear into the water and suds. Sissy grabbed a stool nearby and sat down, putting the shampoo on the floor. She put her hands into the water.

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The water was warm—almost as warm as the blush radiating throughout Sissy's body. It felt like she was on fire with an unexplained excitement. Vanya leaned back, her head cradled by the curvature of the bathtub, closing her eyes as she neared Sissy's awaiting figure. Sissy slightly stroked Vanya's head, ever so gently as if Vanya would break right there. The room was still, each of them wandering amongst their own thoughts.

With her right hand, Sissy grabbed a nearby cup that she had used for Harlan before. She put the cup into the water, near Vanya's shoulder and filled it. As Sissy wet Vanya's hair, Vanya swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry, lips parched. Lost in her own private desert, Vanya felt the silence singing around her.

“Um, thanks for helping me with this. I'm sure I would look like a mess if it weren't for you,” Vanya practically whispered.

“Of course, it's the least I could do,” Sissy responded. “You help me . . . and Harlan so much. I don't know what I would do without you . . .” She said, trailing off as her nerves took over, suddenly aware of the intimacy pulsating between the two of them.

They collapsed into silence once more. As the dirt floated away, Sissy occasionally let her hands drift into the water, absentmindedly stroking the top of Vanya's shoulder with her thumb. Sissy couldn't help but watch Vanya breathe in the water—her chest obscured by the suds, rising and falling as if to some song that only Vanya could hear.

“So,” Sissy said, inhaling quickly. “How did it go, today? Did you win?”

Vanya smiled and opened her eyes, lifting her head from the water to look directly at Sissy. The soap in the water shifted along with her movement, revealing the curve of her body just slightly. The movement created subtle tidal waves, sloshing and splashing against Vanya's naked body.

Sissy could only inhale and exhale, her hands falling into the water in response.

“Yes, it was a successful outing. Did you really want to hear the gory details?” Vanya asked as Sissy gathered her composure, tilting her head and shoulder in a sort of “maybe” gesture.

As Sissy listened, she slowly removed her hands from the water and put them into her lap. She took another breath, gave a little smile, and grabbed the bottle of shampoo. Vanya nodded in response and rested her head once more.

Vanya smiled and said, “Well let's just say that there are some of us that need new clothing—myself included, of course. I honestly don't know where Five finds new uniforms. Perhaps he just has a really good dry cleaner?” She mused, laughing to herself.

Sissy laughed and began lathering her hands with the shampoo. She listened quietly as Vanya continued reflecting on the day.

“And of course, all Klaus could do is complain. He's so particular about his l'ensemble you know.” Vanya continued, pronouncing the ending with a flourish. “Honestly, it's beyond me why he would wear lace to a fight with the Commission as is. But you know Klaus, he is who he is,” she said with a lilt in her voice.

Unspoken relief poured between the two of them as they found a natural rhythm once more—the weight of their intimacy subsiding for the moment.

Sissy massaged Vanya's head with care as she said, “Well I'm still learning about all the interesting characters in your family, but I can say this about Klaus. He's fabulous. I'm just so happy your siblings found you. Granted, I'm not too excited about the danger they always seem to put you in.”

“Ah, it's just good fun. Trust me, we've got it all under control,” Vanya remarked with a stern face before erupting into a chuckle once again.

“Yes, of course. And how did you wind up in 1963 again?” Sissy responded, a slight sneer appearing across her face.

Vanya looked up at Sissy and was taken aback by Sissy's beauty before finally mustering a halfhearted response, “Point taken.”

As the silence encroached once more, Vanya's thoughts shifted to her new found family and their oddities. From Luther to Ben, and everyone in between, each of her new siblings had such strong personalities. Sometimes she felt like a mouse compared to them. But, as she came more into her own powers, Vanya began to feel that she had a solid place in her family as if she had belonged from the beginning. Five's mistake of stranding all seven of them in the 1960s may have been a blessing in disguise. Vanya had a new perspective on her family, compared to the stories they told her of who she was in the future. And of course, without her family, she never would have met Sissy. And that, Vanya could not bear. As her thoughts once again fell upon Sissy, Vanya concentrated on the occasional sound of the water lapping around itself. To Vanya, it was the only sound for what seemed like miles around.

The room suddenly felt eerily quiet to Sissy. Her breath quivered every time she touched Vanya's head, even if it was just to wash dirt from her hair. There was something magical about the moment for Sissy. Her whole body tingled in response. She couldn't help but study Vanya with intensity as Vanya lay there with closed eyes—her body barely covered with disappearing suds as the water grew colder. Sissy moved her attention from the dissipating soap and began to memorize Vanya's face, pore by pore. She wanted to caress every bit of her, from her long eyelashes, to her cute button nose, to her lips that seemed to sparkle with fullness.

For a second, Sissy began to imagine what Vanya's lips would feel like. But the thought terrified her. What would Vanya think? Would such thoughts scare her? Why was she thinking about Vanya's lips in the first place? Sissy ruminated on these thoughts, turning them over and over in her head, like marbles between fingertips. Sissy contemplated floating away in the questions but instead chose to keep her feet grounded by focusing solely on washing Vanya's hair.

Time passed by slowly for both Sissy and Vanya. Eventually, Sissy finished massaging Vanya's head and began to wash the hair with water again. Vanya didn't want Sissy to leave, even as uncomfortable as she felt. Her nerves crushed her with expectation. She could hear Sissy began to shift on the stool as if she were beginning to move away. This was the last thing Vanya wanted.

“Thanks for washing my hair,” Vanya said in a rush. “But I'm afraid that the dirt may have permeated my back now. Would you mind washing my back too?” Vanya couldn't believe the words as they left her lips. The boldness foreign to her.

Sissy nodded and leaned forward, grabbing the navy blue hand-towel that hung on the rung near Vanya's head. Sissy's hand brushed Vanya's cheek as Sissy reached past her. A shiver emanated throughout Sissy's body, like the gentle brush of electricity.

Vanya sat up in the water, her chest to her knees in anticipation. Sissy was hypnotized by the outline of Vanya's body, no suds in sight. Sissy's world stopped for a moment.

When it began again, Sissy found herself slowly dragging the towel up and down Vanya's back. As much as she leaned forward, it was not enough for Sissy. Vanya felt eons away and Sissy could not get close enough, no matter how far she got.

“I'm not sure this is really helping,” Sissy whispered into what felt like an echo chamber within the little bathroom in her little house, on their little farm in the middle of nowhere. Unbeknownst to each of them, in that moment, both Sissy and Vanya imagined themselves as tiny in a never-ending space.

Vanya took a shallow breath, her voice tinged with disappointment, “Oh, that's okay. I appreciate you trying.”

“No, I just think I need to get closer,” Sissy said with a slight hiccup in her voice.

And with that, Sissy stopped fighting herself.

She stood up in her old blue dress, littered with tiny white polka dots. The dress had been worn so often that the soft blue had faded into a greenish color. Of course, Sissy couldn't have anticipated losing control over herself like this. Perhaps had she known, she would have worn something different. Regardless, there was no going back—Sissy had committed. She moved the stool aside and kicked off her fraying beige slippers. Then, with another inhale and exhale, Sissy began removing her dress . . . one button at a time. Vanya could only turn her head and watch as Sissy got undressed and into the tub.

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Sissy's mind had gone completely blank as she put one foot in the tub and then the next. She wore white underwear and a pale lavender bra that immediately felt cold against her skin as she sat behind Vanya.

Meanwhile, Vanya stopped breathing altogether. Is she really getting into the tub? What should I do . . . what should I say? Vanya's mind raced with thought after thought, the questions eating her alive. A strange thrill of excitement surged through her body as she felt Sissy's body heat near her. The water splattered itself into a frenzy, creating microscopic works of art as it settled and sighed.

“Is this alright?” Sissy asked quietly.

Vanya could hear the question, but she felt underwater, sinking into an abyss she thought she'd never arise from.

“Um, yes. This is fine,” Vanya responded after a moment. “Would you like me to move?”

“No, I like where you are. Do mind if I put my legs next to yours?” Sissy whispered, the tepid temperature of the water irrelevant as she felt Vanya's soft skin next to hers. “Just lean forward a bit so I can reach your whole back,” Sissy continued.

Vanya leaned forward and instinctively turned on the hot water for a little while in order to warm up the bath for Sissy. With the added water, the remaining dirt began to filter down the drain, leaving just the heat left between the two. The room went silent as Vanya felt the cool brush of the towel on her back.

“Thanks for the hot water. That's sweet of you,” Sissy said after awhile, her fingertips caressing Vanya's back along with the soap.

Sissy cleansed Vanya's back, moving the towel around the curves of her body, from the sides of her chest, to the tip of her lower back. She then took her hands and sweetly moved Vanya's hair to her shoulders and swept the back of her neck with the towel. Vanya shivered in response.

“Oh, did that make you cold?” Sissy asked with concern.

Vanya sputtered, “No, I'm sorry, it was just involuntary. I didn't mean to shiver. I'm not cold.”

“Do we ever expect to shiver?” Sissy quietly responded.

As Sissy continued to brush the towel across Vanya's neck, Vanya started imagining what it would be like to have Sissy touch more of her body. Suddenly, Vanya wanted to feel the texture of Sissy's hand next to her own. Without thinking, she reached up to her shoulder and put her hand on Sissy's, who audibly inhaled as their fingers interlocked just briefly.

Sissy was still holding her breath as Vanya angled her body, her bare chest now facing her. The water soaked Sissy's bra as Vanya began to move toward her. She was now fully exposed, just as Vanya was. Sissy imagined that she may never breathe again.

“Is this okay?” Vanya murmured as she sat on her knees, facing Sissy.

Sissy swiftly nodded. In her whole life, she had never felt this anxious. It was choking her with its promises of splendor. Vanya opened her hand to Sissy, and waited for Sissy to reciprocate. Vanya could practically hear her heartbeat as she waited to feel Sissy's hand in hers. Despite Vanya's inherent shyness, she could no longer hide her feelings.

Sissy dropped the towel into the water. It swam away with her mind as she found herself reaching out for Vanya's hand. Skin to skin their hands lay—each of them memorizing the calluses and lines from fingers to palms.

“Sit with your back to me,” Sissy heard herself say. “I want to hold you.”

Without a word, Vanya turned around and rested her back upon Sissy's chest. Vanya could feel Sissy breathe in and breathe out, a rhythmic song that quickly became Vanya's favorite in the world. They raised their arms out together, clasping fingers, stroking hands with the gentle touch of a soon-to-be lover.

Sissy watched Vanya's body move as she breathed, quietly trying to stay present in the moment. But all she could focus on were the lines of Vanya's clavicle as they melted into the curves of her chest. She could think of nothing else in the world that she'd rather be doing than touching Vanya. Sissy explored Vanya's skin, lightly touching her from wrist to elbow, savoring every pore.

Vanya felt her body tingle in response as if there were some sort of energy emanating from the blending of their skin together. Her head spun with warm colors, all floating into one another while her mouth formed itself into an involuntary smile, left side up. She dropped her hands from Sissy's and let them fall gently on Sissy's thighs. Sissy's thighs, Vanya thought. My hands are on her thighs. What I am doing? What if Harlan wakes up—should we be doing this. . . I can't stop myself, I want to drown in these thighs. Sissy moaned just slightly in response while Vanya quietly ran her fingers along her muscles, briefly gripping the sides of Sissy's thighs.

“Yes . . . please,” Sissy whispered.

Sissy moved her hips just so, pressing herself against Vanya all the more. The motion made Vanya massage Sissy's thighs with more intensity as she could feel Sissy's hips meet her own, over again. Sissy pulled Vanya closer still, hands on Vanya's taut stomach, crawling upwards towards her breasts.

And with that, all doubt was removed from Vanya's body. She turned around to face Sissy once more. Sissy took one look at the bare body in front of her and suddenly felt wildly overdressed—no matter that her clothes were see-through at this point. She sat up and reached back to remove her drenched bra, freeing her breasts. She dropped the dripping clothing on the floor, making a loud slop as Vanya just stared at her, a look of wonder on her face. Vanya reached into the water and put her hands on the waistband of Sissy's panties and felt Sissy raise her hips in anticipation. Vanya gently pulled the fabric off of Sissy's wet body and dropped it right along Sissy's bra on the floor, the soaking clothes co-mingling.

All Vanya wanted to do was kiss Sissy, feel her lips upon her own. She pulled Sissy close to her, her hand on Sissy's back, their bodies pressed together—bare skin burned into one another. They sat up together in the tub, both on their knees as their lips met for the first time. Vanya was beside herself. Sissy's lips were everything she imagined, full and luscious, tasting a bit of coffee from her afternoon cup. Sissy was consistent that way, a cup of coffee in the morning around 7am and another around 1pm, at the beginning of Harlan's nap. But none in the evening, that was the cool down period. Vanya knew her schedule by heart. Just as she would know the taste of Sissy's lips by heart. She leaned in further, enveloping herself in everything Sissy had to offer. Vanya gently bit Sissy's bottom lip the deeper they kissed.

Sissy intertwined herself into Vanya, their arms wrapped around each other. She pressed her hips into Vanya's. Sissy's form against Vanya's felt alien and yet so comforting. She imagined that this moment with Vanya was all she had ever known and would ever know. She never knew that this was what was missing in her life. Nothing would ever compare—there was no going back. Oh my god, was all that Sissy could think as Vanya slenderly opened her mouth further, their tongues making the briefest of interactions.

With her hand on the small of Sissy's back, Vanya cradled Sissy in her arms. And Sissy let her, fully giving into Vanya's embrace. Vanya slowly moved forward so that Sissy was practically leaning against the back of the tub, submerged and wet. Vanya moved from Sissy's supple lips to the soft spot behind Sissy's ear, crawling inch by inch with tiny kisses, taking a moment to nibble on Sissy's earlobe for a second or two.

Sissy emitted another small moan, an intake of breath and an audible “Yes.”

Vanya moved Sissy's hair out of the way and began moving her lips down Sissy's neck, kiss by kiss. Sissy's body automatically moved in a convex fashion, her breasts rising in response to the proximity of Vanya's tongue. Vanya gripped Sissy's body tighter as she made her way south, inches from Sissy's nipples.

And then the world came to a crashing halt.

Vanya could no longer hear the subtle sounds of Sissy's light moans. Her chest, still and quiet—Sissy was frozen in time. Vanya stopped immediately and looked at her immovable lover in confusion. Was Sissy even breathing?

“Are you okay?” She muttered, half expecting Sissy to start moving once more—snap out of whatever time warp she must be experiencing.

“Sissy, Sissy?!” Vanya's voice rose in panic as the seconds ticked by.

It was only at that moment that Vanya noticed. A tall and elegant woman was standing against the porcelain sink in their tiny bathroom with an expectant look upon her face.

The Handler had arrived.

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Sissy was perpetually stuck in her position, not breathing, her heart not even beating. Vanya quickly covered her body in response with a nearby towel.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?! Get out of here,” Vanya snarled at the unwelcome intrusion.

“Oh, my my my. Aren't we in the middle of something, you naughty thing. Please, don't stop on my account,” The Handler said, laughing to herself as Vanya grabbed her robe from the floor and exited the tub hastily.

“You're The Handler, aren't you?” Vanya stated as The Handler smiled and nodded. “Five has mentioned you, what are you even doing here? Are you lost? You trying to pick off my family one by one now? 'Cause that won't work, I will hurt you,” Vanya said forcefully.

The Handler moved herself from the sink and walked toward Vanya in a slightly menacing manner. Her dark blue pencil skirt had a matching jacket with long tails that hung like a perverted tuxedo. It was cinched in so tight that Vanya wondered how she was still breathing. The suit set had giant, exaggerated pointed shoulders, finished off with a pink striped collared shirt with tiny yellow cockroaches on it. She completed the look with a top hat that had a citrine-colored cockroach broach on it. Her outfit was so over the top that Sissy's house looked dreary and dull in comparison. The Handler clearly did not belong. The click-clack of her blue stilettos on the linoleum made Vanya involuntarily swallow nervously.

The Handler's fingers curled ever so slightly around her Commission suitcase before she calmed down and cooly said, “I certainly am not lost. You're lucky that I deign to be in your presence, I am just tired of hearing Five prattle on about the end of the world. It's your fault you know, your family's presence always leads to the end of the world. So here I am, on my lunch break mind you, to fix your mess. Because I care. Especially when the timeline is at stake.”

“The timeline?” Vanya asked, confused. “What timeline? I don't care about your timeline. I just want you to leave.”

“Clearly. So much hostility for such a tiny package,” The Handler said, mulling over her latest manicure. “Tch tch tch, I knew that cerulean was the wrong color choice for these nails. They simply clash with this hat—throws the whole look off balance. I do so hate being off balance. I should be wearing millennial pink. Don't you hate when that happens? Granted, I understand that millennial pink won't be a trend for another fifty years, but what can I say? I'm before my time.”

Vanya immediately began to problem solve as The Handler talked to herself. Vanya considered how she could defend Sissy and make sure Harlan was okay without alerting The Handler to his presence. Of course, her biggest concern was endangering Sissy and Harlan. And if she had to defend them, she may end up destroying their house in the process. She felt as if she was hanging on to a cliff by her fingernails, and her fingernails were already short enough as it was! The more she contemplated her situation, the angrier she became.

Vanya interrupted The Handler's diatribe and said, “ I don't care about whether your nails should have been pink or cerulean, whatever that is. I care that the world has stopped,” Vanya stated before gesturing to Sissy, “Is she even okay?”

The Handler nodded dismissively as Vanya took a sigh of relief. At least Sissy was safe. Now, all Vanya could do was worry about whether Harlan would wake up and walk in on them in this compromising position. Oh, no. What if he were to walk in and find his mother frozen and naked, let alone find a strange—really strange—woman in his house? She thought, forming her hands into a fist before relaxing them once more.

“So what, you just stop the world whenever you feel like it? Everyone just stops in place? Or is it just in here? Is that it?” Vanya asked with venom in her voice, searching just a bit for an answer.

“No, no when I stop time, she stops, he stops, they all stop!” The Handler said waving her hands around like a she was at a beauty pagent. “But dear, I have not come here to fight,” The Handler remarked with a cloying smile transfixed to her face. “The timeline is not to be messed with, and you and your precious siblings keep screwing it up. So I have simply stopped time to fix time. It's really a clever solution, no? You see,” The Handler gestured to Sissy in the bathtub. “You understand, don't you? You don't belong here.”

“I understand that you think the world just belongs to you. But I belong here. I belong with Sissy. I belong with my family. You cannot tell me who I belong with and where I belong. So I suggest you leave,” Vanya said, standing straighter with her shoulders back in a position of power. She looked The Handler dead in the eyes with defiance.

The Handler tilted her head in response and moved forward toward the bathtub. Vanya rushed forward to protect Sissy but The Handler instead sat ever so pristine on the edge of the tub near the faucet. She turned the hot water on and ran her fingers beneath it, playing with the stream. Soon, steam could be seen from the heat of the water. Vanya's chest glowed bright blue in response as she switched the faucet off with her power.

“Truly, my dear, Vanya,” The Handler said with a flourish. “I am only here to suggest that you embark upon a welcome change from the drab—albeit interesting—life you've got going here. You're bringing danger into this world. You think you're little Commission fights will continue to be little? Oh, no.”

“Danger? . . . I suppose we are . . .” Vanya quietly responded.

Vanya stood closer to the still version of Sissy. She certainly did not like the proximity of The Handler next to her love. God, Vanya thought, momentarily distracted. I do love her, don't I? Anything, I would do anything to keep her safe. With that, Vanya was brought back to reality and to the danger, sitting in a distorted version of Chanel in front of her.

“Little?” Vanya replied. “Sending a thousand agents is considered little?”

The Handler audibly cackled and said “Please, you think we're at all concerned with the amount of third-rate agents we're sending your way? You haven't even seen the worst that we can offer. Come on now, the Swedes are contractors. We don't even have them on the payroll! They have to fill out a 1099 for god's sake. But I digress. A thousand agents is nothing, we are just cleaning out the recruits that can't hack it. Granted that seems to be all of them for now—but rest assured that I will fix that once I get back to the office.”

Vanya looked at The Handler plainly. “I'm tired of asking,” she said. “What do you want from me?”

The Handler smiled and gestured for Vanya to sit on the tub as well, facing her at an angle. Vanya obliged, putting her hand on the small of Sissy's back for just a moment. Vanya desperately needed to feel like Sissy was okay, even if Sissy was frozen in time.

“How sweet,” The Handler said, devoid of sincerity.

They stared at each other, not speaking as the seconds ticked by. The Handler tapped her shoe against the tub, tip-tip-tip, emulating the drip of the water from the leaky sink faucet. Everything felt loud to Vanya as she waited for The Handler to explain herself.

“I don't have all day,” Vanya finally said, irritation seeping into her voice.

The Handler laughed again and replied with a sneer, “I mean, you literally do. I have frozen time, remember. You have as long as I say you have. But I suppose I should just get to the point, no reason to dilly dally when the world needs saving, right?”

Vanya nodded, watching The Handler with caution. She focused on what The Handler was saying while imagining all the different ways that she may be able to kill her. Granted, Vanya had no idea what The Handler had in her arsenal, so she was more cautious than usual.

“Here's the thing, Yes, I usually work with Five, the little fucker. But he tends to be more hostile than I'd like to deal with right now. I just had a facial and a massage, there's no need to get worked up. Am I right? Right,” The Handler answered her own question before continuing her unexpected monologue. “Since I believe you are the only member of your family with any sense or ability to reason, and you don't even remember your future—what's to lose? You are the obvious choice of who to offer the deal to.”

“Deal? What deal?” Vanya responded with hesitation.

Vanya contemplated briefly what the deal may be. Perhaps it was freedom from the fights, maybe it was a ceasefire. Oh, what it would be like to not have the stress all the time, what it would be like to be with Sissy more regularly. Perhaps, run away with Sissy . . . This thought left Vanya spinning.

“Here's the deal: Since you and your band of miscreants cannot seem to enter an era without wrecking havoc on what's supposed to happen, I am offering you and your family safe passage to the future, no questions asked. There will be no more blood shed, no death . . .”

“Death?” Vanya interjected, suddenly alarmed.

“Oh, yes. If you continue in this timeline, someone will die. This is a foregone conclusion. It is only if you leave now that everyone leaves with their limbs and lives attached.”

Vanya stood up in a panic and asked pointedly, “Who dies?!”

The Handler wagged her index finger back and forth like she was speaking to a child before she patronizingly said, “Uh uh uh, no answers for those that don't heed my advice and leave.”

She smiled and watched Vanya narrow her eyes before she elaborated further. The Handler was going to milk this moment for all that it was worth. Messing with Vanya was bringing more joy to her than expected.

The Handler took a breath and said “No, you either leave with all family members and only family members—no sneaky ideas—or someone special to you dies. That's the deal,” she said before gesturing towards Sissy's motionless body. “Tick-tock, kid, don't you want to make sure that everyone you love is safe?”

Chapter Text

Vanya was beside herself. She couldn't bare the idea of losing someone in her family, or . . . Sissy. She didn't want to be responsible for putting anyone's life in danger. But this sort of deal wasn't up to just her—she'd need to run it by her family. The idea that I could decide on such a major life change on my own is ludicrous. I just have to figure out how to get her out of here so I can bring it to the group—no way am I making this decision on my own. But . . . I can't run it by them, what if they collectively agree to the deal and I have to leave Sissy behind? Vanya considered frantically.

All Vanya wanted to do was bring Sissy back to life. She was her only focus. Could Vanya really leave Sissy behind in 1963, never to see her again? And what would the future look like for Vanya? Who would she become without the grounding force of the farm, and of Sissy? Apparently I dated a serial killer before, who knows who I'd be with in the future. I wouldn't want to be with anyone but Sissy, honestly. Could I even leave her? Is that my future? Vanya lamented, momentarily lost in the idea that eventually she may have to leave Sissy anyway, and this would just be speeding up that painful reality.

The Handler began tapping her foot against the tub once again. The water moved minutely, whirling in waves around Sissy's frozen body. The Handler did not have all day, especially when it came to deals. To The Handler, this was a no-brainer.

“Any thoughts? You're awfully quiet over there,” The Handler said as she rose from the edge of the tub and walked over to the sink where Vanya had moved.

The Handler's presence closing in on Vanya was all the more disconcerting. Vanya knew that she needed to have a solid response, and have it quickly. She could only imagine that this deal had a rapidly disappearing time frame. Vanya had gone practically catatonic as she mulled it over, paralyzed by her own thoughts. If I don't take the deal, what does it mean for us in terms of our supposed eminent death? Could we all survive if I say no? I don't think I could live with the knowledge that I left Sissy alone to fend for herself now that The Handler knows about her. Can I risk that? And what if The Handler decides that I'm taking too long and takes the offer to another sibling—like Luther?! He'd take that deal in a heartbeat considering that it would make Allison single again. Diego and Five won't trust The Handler and may say no. Although, Five seems to be quite the wild card. Allison probably wouldn't want to take the deal either as it would mean leaving her husband. But Klaus, Klaus would just go with the flow. Vanya considered how each of her siblings may answer and came to the same conclusion. Their potential death aside, her siblings' involvement would only further complicate the matter.

This was up to Vanya, she couldn't leave it up to the will of her siblings. Should The Handler take the offer elsewhere, she needed to have a firm opinion now so they couldn't convince her otherwise—no family meeting, no discussion. It was all her.

“No,” Vanya said firmly. The conclusion was definitive. There was no way that Vanya would leave Sissy all alone, unprotected, even if it meant risking her siblings. “No, I'm not taking a deal from you, and you'll be hard-pressed to convince any of us to leave loved ones behind . . . siblings or otherwise.”

“Uh huh, you're missing the bigger picture here, kid. This isn't about the others—this is about you. If you leave, they'll follow. Family sticks together, blah blah blah. Plus, they wouldn't want you to trigger yet another end of the world scenario, right? Or,” she paused with an exaggerated expression of concern, hand on her chest, “kill someone you love . . .” The Handler smirked just slightly as she stood face to face with Vanya, intimidating her with piercing eyes and reddened lips.

Vanya stood straighter, staring down The Handler with a sudden burst of confidence. Vanya could take her if need be. If she could take down the moon, Vanya could certainly take down The Handler. Besides, she's been better at controlling her power since the time jump. Granted, she had only heard stories of her future thus far, but she hadn't blown up any celestial bodies yet, so that was a good sign. Vanya wondered if she could focus her energy solely on The Handler and leave Sissy and Harlan safe. Her chest began glowing blue as a reaction.

“I'd step away if I were you,” Vanya spat out. “I've said no. I'm willing to take the risk. Besides, now you've given away that someone is in danger, I think we can handle it from here. Now is the time for you to leave and unfreeze everyone.”

“You're going to be sorry. Just because you can change colors doesn't mean that I'm afraid of you. Please. I know better. I always come prepared,” The Handler remarked coolly.

Vanya took a breath, unsure of what was to come. What did The Handler have planned for her? Vanya would need to be more in control of her power than she ever had—even more than when she saved Harlan from drowning. This attack would need to be precise.

Just then, Lila walked into the bathroom. Like The Handler, Lila was somehow fantastically dressed for such a contentious exchange. Wearing a black miniskirt, a formfitting black turtle neck, and knee high black patent leather boots, Lila looked like the most fabulous spy—decked in fight gear that could find itself on the pages of a 1960s issue of Vogue.

“You're in quite a position here, Vanya,” The Handler remarked.

Vanya found herself feeling incredibly vulnerable as she glanced down at her threadbare robe. And poor Sissy, with only a towel to cover her. Oh shit. This could get very messy. How the hell am I going to get them outta here. Vanya thought as she glanced between the both of them.

“Hello, little one,” The Handler said, inviting Lila into the suddenly crowded bathroom. As they kissed cheek to cheek, The Handler warmly purred, “Welcome, to the farm. Make yourself comfortable, this won't be but a minute.”

Vanya immediately stopped glowing, and said in a rush to Lila, “Who are you? Are you with the Commission, too?”

Vanya had no idea who Lila was or what significance she had to The Handler. Diego and Five had not been exactly forthcoming about their interactions with the questionable newcomer. Vanya was certain she'd be able to handle them both, but she worried that it would require more energy than she could adequately control without endangering Sissy and Harlan. And physically fighting was out of the question—her siblings may have grown up as crime-fighting heroes, but to the best of Vanya's knowledge, she had not.

“Do you really need to know my name right now?” Lila said with a smirk. “Does that seem like the most pertinent piece of information to you at this very moment? I think you need to get your priorities in order, Vanya. Your question should be 'Why not take the deal?' What's there to lose when you get to protect your entire family?”

Vanya rejected The Handler's offer and said in a threatening tone, “What I know is not to trust the Commission or The Handler.”

The Handler sighed and tilted her head, putting on a facade that she was crushed by Vanya's words before she gently said, “My dear, what is there not to trust? I am only here to help you—you are the most reliable one of the Umbrella bunch.” The Handler reached her free hand out to Vanya in a friendly manner. “Of course I come to you with only good intentions.”

Vanya ignored The Handler's false gesture and said to Lila,“Since you're here with The Handler, I can only assume that you are not someone to trust as well. I have heard enough stories to know that there are always strings attached to any deal. I, or anyone in my family, will not take a deal from the Commission or an overdressed sycophant such as you,” Vanya said gesturing back to The Handler who looked aghast at the insinuation.

“I am not overdressed,” The Handler remarked while wagging her finger at Vanya.

“I wouldn't underestimate us,” Lila said calmly. “You have no idea what I can do, or how I can make life difficult for you and whoever is under that towel,” she continued.

Vanya looked back and forth between Lila, The Handler, and Sissy's compromised position. How could she protect Sissy from either of them? She felt severely outnumbered and unable to exit this situation peacefully. Life was simpler when you were here and breathing, she thought as she glanced towards Sissy's silent figure. Ah, Sissy, what I wouldn't give to be back in that moment with you. But now, she would have to do something. As Vanya moved from the sink and backed herself against the wall, she turned towards Lila. Vanya's face and eyes went white with resolve.

The next movements went faster than Vanya expected. In one motion, Vanya grabbed the mirror hanging on a hook on the wall behind her and smashed it. In a split second, she had Lila pressed against the wall by her energy tentacle. The wall visually buckled under the pressure, cracking and trembling in response to Vanya's power. Vanya ran across the room and with the shard of glass in her hand, put it up to Lila's struggling body, moving the turtleneck aside with a deftness she didn't know she had. With the glass at Lila's neck, The Handler loudly sighed in the background.

Unbeknownst to Vanya, The Handler subtly shook her head at Lila, signaling for her to halt whatever she had planned for Vanya. For some reason, The Handler did not want to reveal everything in that moment. With The Handler, the end result was always the most important.

“Dear, dear, Vanya. Is this the way you treat your guests?” The Handler said as she walked to the left of Vanya, and leaned her shoulder against the bathroom door.

“You were never invited,” Vanya nearly spat out.

“Well . . .” The Handler remarked as she watched her daughter struggle against Vanya's attack, “I see that our peaceful negotiations have dissolved.”

“Cut the shit, unfreeze everyone, and leave,” Vanya responded. “We are done here. I'm sure we'll meet again on the battlefield—wherever that may be. But understand that my family and I will destroy you,” Vanya said as the glass broke through the skin and blood dripped down Lila's shirt, soaking the pristine jersey knit fabric.

Thankfully, Vanya's robe was long enough that it sheltered her hand from the glass shard, only inflicting pain upon Lila instead. As spots of Lila's blood seeped onto the sleeve of Vanya's robe, The Handler moved closer to Lila's position, a Commission briefcase in hand. Vanya recoiled from her presence and, though the wall was bellowing under the immense pressure, she concentrated on keeping Lila against it with all of her might. Still, there were mere minutes left before the wall crumbled.

“You're so sure that you can actually harm both of us without blowing up the house? I hear your power is spotty at best,” The Handler said with a laugh.

“Spotty can still get the job done,” Vanya replied, pressing the shard further into Lila's neck.

The Handler sighed again and stealthily grabbed Lila's hand, holding it in her own. The altercation was reaching its climax, each party unwilling to cave as the wall began to quiver, struggling to hold itself together. The Handler thought the house would crumble due to Vanya's lack of control and she didn't want to be anywhere near the farm when that happened.

“Don't you understand?” The Handler whispered menacingly, losing her composure for the first time. “You are not the end-all-be-all. I will find a way to fix the timeline and you and your vagabond troupe will be out of here. Consider this a momentary ceasefire, for you will see me again. And I won't be so nice next time. This is your loss, Vanya. Consider that.”

And with that, The Handler and Lila were gone in a flash.

Chapter Text

The birds sang, the bees buzzed, the wind whistled as the seconds began ticking by in their little bathroom. Following the departure of The Handler and Lila, the world's heart began beating once more—including Vanya's love. With a start, Vanya turned just in time to catch Sissy before her head hit the back of the tub. And with an intake of breath, Sissy was back in the story.

The relief that poured from Vanya was palpable. Despite the drama and stress that she had just endured, she was glowing with excitement to be holding Sissy once again. The second she finds out what happened, Vanya thought, she probably won't want me to touch her anymore. But at least I have this moment. One perfect moment where the world is back to where it was, no consequence, no questions. Yet . . .

“Oh, my! What happened? Why are you behind me now?” Sissy exclaimed with alarm as she adjusted to the new scene before her.

Sissy sat up and turned to face Vanya. This was very different than she expected. Last Sissy remembered, Vanya was hovering above her nipples, tongue at the ready. Now, Vanya looked haggard, a distress danced across her face. Sissy was thoroughly confused and wondered what had transpired that would change their positions so entirely. Instead of the anticipation of a first time, Sissy stared at a Vanya who was standing outside of the tub, robe tied on, blotches of blood on her sleeve.

“I'm so sorry,” Vanya responded, her attention now focused on the bewildered Sissy sitting in the tub in front of her. “I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

She's sorry? Is she already regretting what's happening between us? Sissy pondered as she watched Vanya's face fall further into sadness. I'm not sorry. I don't want her to be sorry. Is that why she exited the tub so quickly . . . how did she do that? Sissy knew that asking question after question would just add unneeded stress to their predicament. At that moment, she decided that she would do her best to diffuse the situation, and be as rational as possible.

“Sorry for what?” Sissy asked, taking a deep breath. “Is that blood on your robe? Did you accidentally hurt yourself getting out of the tub that fast? Just tell me what's going on. . . . Do you regret what happened between us?” Sissy continued, barely able to raise her voice above a whisper.

“No! I don't regret it at all. It's not like that. None of this has anything to do with what happened between us. Please don't think that!” Vanya said in a rush.

Vanya began worrying on a whole other level now. She never imagined that Sissy would first think that Vanya was not interested in her. That was not the case at all. In fact, Vanya was risking everything for Sissy. The idea that Sissy doubted her interest, sent Vanya into a never-ending spiral.

“I'm sorry, let me explain,” Vanya said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice as she surveyed her sleeve. “Oh, I didn't even see the blood. I didn't mean to ruin your robe. I'll make it up to you!” She took another breath before she continued, “I got caught in something and things got a little messy. The Commission arrived and paused the world in order to try and convince me and my family to leave—go back to the future,” Vanya said, downplaying the altercation while Sissy sat up in the tub and pulled the towel around her.

Vanya could only stand there and watch Sissy process what Vanya was telling her with bated breath. Sissy just sat there running her hands through the water absentmindedly, staring off into nowhere. Will she hate me? Vanya lamented. I imagine this may be the end . . . ironically, before we ever truly got our beginning. Vanya could think of nothing worse than Sissy rebuking her affections.

The edges of the towel floated in the water as Sissy began to process what Vanya was telling her. She doesn't regret it! At first, Sissy could think of nothing but relief. However, after a beat, the significance of what Vanya said began to hit her. The Commission. She said the Commission was here. The danger of Vanya's life had finally begun to make its way into Sissy and Harlan's life. As exciting as it had been to fall in love with a real-life superhero, Sissy hadn't contemplated what that might mean for her and her son in the long run. In love? Am I really in love? Sissy wondered.

Unbeknownst to Vanya, Sissy's head spun with a range of emotion as she responded to Vanya, “The Commission was here!? What do you mean they paused the world? You're leaving? I'm sorry for all of these questions, I'm just so confused. Wait, is Harlan okay?” Sissy asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“Harlan! I'll check and be right back!” Vanya hurriedly said.

Vanya quietly rushed out of the bathroom and down the hall to check on Sissy's sleeping son. With a slow creak, she opened the door to Harlan's room just a bit to see the sleeping figure at peace in his bed. Vanya lingered for a moment to make sure that he was breathing at an acceptable pace before she closed the door and made her way back to the bathroom.

“He's fine. He's still asleep and breathing alright,” Vanya quickly reassured the panic-stricken mother.

Sissy exhaled a sigh of relief and said, “Thank god.”

Sissy felt frozen in the tub—not just by the rapidly cooling water—but with an inability to cope with what just happened. She looked over to her right and noticed giant cracks in the wall that she had never seen before. Sissy wondered if this was part of Vanya's “mess.” How am I going to explain that to Carl? Sissy thought as her anxiety swirled around her.

“We can talk about all of this later,” Vanya said, interrupting Sissy's train of thought. “But first, let me take care of you. Are you cold? Do you need help getting out of the tub?” She gently asked as she reached out for Sissy's hand.

Still stunned, Sissy did not immediately reach back for Vanya's outstretched hand. Her head lowered, severing eye contact with Vanya. She had gone silent as Vanya slowly lowered her hand and backed away just slightly from Sissy.

When her gesture was not reciprocated, Vanya felt a crushing weight on her heart, now that the immediate fear and adrenaline of her run-in with The Handler had begun to deplete. It was hitting her that she and Sissy may never get back to the place they were just in. Regardless of whether Sissy wondered whether Vanya regretted their time together, Sissy would of course kick her out now. There was no other solution. Their love would remain unrequited. Vanya couldn't imagine any other outcome. She had put Sissy's family in danger, and would continue to do so if she stayed living with them. No, it was time for Vanya to leave.

And that thought . . . that thought may just break her.

Sissy looked down at the water around her. Leave . . . She said they were trying to convince her to leave. Go back to the future . . . back to a time where we aren't together. What if she is? Sissy's thoughts swam around her in a wave of worry and wonder. Leave. I don't want her to leave. But should she? And what if she does?

Vanya dropped her head, put her hands on her face, and collapsed onto the stool near the tub. The impending truth felt like too much for her to handle. What had she done? There was no way that Sissy would love her now. Vanya was sure of this.

Sissy looked up at Vanya, and pulled Vanya's hand toward her. She took her index and middle finger and dragged it along Vanya's palm before placing her hand in Vanya's. She felt a familiar shiver as their skin met. Hand to hand, all doubt was removed from Sissy's mind. She motioned for Vanya to come closer.

Oblivious to Sissy's resolve, Vanya braced herself for the rejection that she knew was inevitable. This is it. She's getting ready to say goodbye. There's no other option, She's just being nice, don't read too much into this. Sissy needs to cut me out of her life. I may not be able to keep her safe. I don't even know if I can keep her safe from me, let alone the Commission or whoever else may walk through that door, Vanya thought as she dejectedly stood up and walked closer to the tub.

Sissy sighed and said, “Apparently I can only focus on you leaving.”

“I know. I need to leave,” Vanya responded, still clutching Sissy's hand.

“But . . . I don't want you to leave,” Sissy whispered. “I'm not ready to deal with this new reality yet. I have so many questions, and so many concerns,” she said, speaking with her hands as she gestured to the cracked wall, the bloodstained sleeve, and finally back to Vanya. “What I do know, is that I don't want you to leave.”

Vanya looked truly shocked as she said, “You don't want me to leave? What do you want me to do then?”

Just kiss me, Sissy thought. Please. Sissy let go of Vanya's hand and angled herself toward the faucet. She removed the bathtub drain stopper and turned on the hot water. As Sissy filled up the tub with fresh water and replaced the stopper, Vanya remained silent, just watching her.

“My first thought is 'kiss me,' I want you to kiss me,” Sissy said with a seriousness. “To be honest, there's so much to consider now. And I don't want to,” Sissy answered. “I don't want to think about the future. I don't want to think about either of our questions. I just want to be. I want to make the most of our time together. Since meeting you, I have felt the freest I have in my entire life. Whether it's the Commission or my husband that eventually pulls us apart, I don't want to miss this moment, with you. I want you to kiss me,” Sissy said with a pleading tone.

And with that, Sissy threw the wet towel to the floor. She sat naked in the tub and watched Vanya process what was happening. Vanya's face swelled with emotion as a smile crept across her face.

To Sissy, none of their problems would amount to a repudiation of Vanya's love. If Vanya would eventually need to leave, Sissy didn't want to miss out on a single second of being with her. She wanted to experience all of Vanya, feel her every inch. For Sissy, there was no going back. If Vanya would still have her, Sissy would be hers.

“You still want me here?” Vanya whispered in response.

Sissy looked for approval as she sat up, reaching toward the tie on Vanya's robe and said, “I don't want to imagine being without you. Tomorrow, we can take on the world. But today . . . today, I just want you.”

Vanya removed her robe, letting it fall to the ground as Sissy took Vanya's hand and pulled her closer. Sissy motioned for Vanya to join her in the tub again. With surprise splashed across her face, Vanya acquiesced and took Sissy's hand, allowing her to lead Vanya back toward the tub. With one foot after another, the two stared at each other, a teardrop falling down Vanya's cheek.

“I thought I had to leave you and it broke my heart,” Vanya said as Sissy took her in an embrace, nuzzling Vanya against her.

Vanya pulled back from Sissy's embrace to look at Sissy and study her every feature. I can't believe it, she thought. This is love, despite everything, she still wants me. And I want her. I can't imagine ever wanting anyone else for the rest of my life.

“I just want to look at you, and memorize this moment,” Vanya said, as her hand stroked Sissy's face.

Sissy tilted her head into Vanya's hand further, and kissed it gently. With that, Vanya leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met with an intensity beyond anything they had ever experienced. They knew that no matter what, they would always choose one another.

As if a soundtrack played in the background, the two wordlessly swayed together, both of them listening to the same imaginary song—on the same page, again. Vanya held Sissy's face in her hands, crawling her lips down Sissy's neck. Vanya then moved her hands down Sissy's shoulders reaching her torso, holding Sissy just a bit tighter with every sweet touch of lip to skin.

“I'd risk everything for you,” Vanya whispered between quavering breaths.

“Me too. Together, that's all I want to be,” Sissy replied, her hands wandering down the small of Vanya's back.

The two began to naturally lean back together in the tub, their soundless song playing for them. Momentarily out of water, they rose with backs arched, hands and tongues searching, exploring each wet crevice. Sissy and Vanya, Vanya and Sissy, a cadenced ballet as they became one, moving in sync—pulsating. One by one, shuddering the other, a vibration and fevered breath became their only soundtrack, the moan of the outside and inside blended together into a silent roar.

After their song, Sissy dragged her tongue north as they both slid back into the water. Vanya's hands pulled Sissy closer and closer till they were face to face. And when their lips finally met once again, the two took a collective breath, easing into each other.

“Now where were we?” Sissy said, smiling between kisses, her heart all aflutter as she looked back into Vanya's satisfied eyes.

Vanya shook her head incredulously at the woman in front of her and said, “I was taking a bath.”