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Lay Me Down In Sheets Of Linen
By EponinesGhost

"Blue jean baby ..."

Kelly sang to herself as she reached for the shampoo. She missed her Brookstone shower cd player. This was the third time she had showered at Tracey's before heading into the office. Don't keep score Kel.

"Pretty eyed, pirate smile ..."

As she lathered the strawberry/kiwi concoction of Tracey's shampoo into her hair she inhaled deeply and wondered if this would help anyone catch on. Would they notice that she didn't have her usual apple, peach or vanilla scent as often, that she smelled just like her partner ...mmm ... maybe put two and two together with them showing up more frequently in the same taxi?

"Ballerina, you must have seen her ..."

Rinsing, she chided herself. You're paranoid, Gaffney. You work with a bunch of men. They wouldn't notice if you dressed identically and wore promise rings.

"Now she's in me, always with me .."

Letting the water run down her face she allowed those words to call up images of the night before. Shivering. So hot. Better here than daydreaming at her desk later.

"Looking on, she sings the songs ..."

Kelly brought the mesh bath puff up to her neck, trying to remind herself to check it in the mirror as soon as she stepped out. At least it wasn't unusual for her to wear a scarf.

"The words she knows, the rest she hums ..."

As she squeezed the soapy warmth over her chest, she shuddered as she relived Tracey's lips following the same path.

"Oh how it feels so real ..."

Not a dream. Not anymore. Thank God. Her hands continued their work while her thoughts ricocheted back and forth.

"Lying here with no one near ..."

Tracey's body against her, beneath her, around her. The steam was closing in.

"Only you and you can hear me ..."

Novak. Not all men. There was Novak. She might actually be the first one to guess. Funny how she still thought of her by her last name, as long as they'd worked together.

"When I say softly ... slowly ..."

She never thought of Tracey as 'Kibre' any more. And hadn't for a long time. But ... Tracey called Novak 'Casey'.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer ..."

Wait a minute. Did that mean something? Should she ask Tracey about Novak? She shook her head. Trying valiantly to dismiss that train of thought. Stop it. Stop it.

"Lay me down in sheets of linen ..."

It was none of her business. Well, maybe it was, but she wasn't sure if they were "there" yet. Weren't they both pointedly avoiding defining this?

"You've had a busy day today ..."

Busy. That was one excuse. Work, complications, consequences. Don't dwell. Don't you dare mess this up.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer ..."

Tracey had been vaguely listening to Kelly's voice and the running water as she moved about the apartment. Smiling to herself, she realized how used to all this domesticity she could get. As she neared the bathroom door she tried to place the snippets of the song she was picking up. Elton John maybe? Amused, she leaned in, straining to hear the next lyric as she cracked the door open. The song title, it's meaning, and the clouds of steam struck her at the same time. Oh. Without another thought she slipped out of her robe and into the shower. She didn't need to be asked twice.

The End

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