Lilywhite Boys - Susan/Cara
[Technically a split between mirror and armour, but who's checking.]
*
Susan came home late, drenched, and in a foul humour. The current case was a murder, rather grisly; Whitechapel mirrored yet a-bloody-gain. The governors were in a strop about it, at each other’s throats, and Susan was heartily sick of humanity.
She found her door unlocked, a slender figure kneeling by the fireplace. The fire was a welcome surprise, but the face lifting to hers brought another kind of warmth.
Susan dropped her gun arm. “Christ, Cara. I could’ve shot you. What are you doing here?”
Cara rolled her eyes. “You gave me a key, you termagant. I missed you.”
***
Cara helped with her stays, peeling damp layers off Susan’s body. Standing in front of the mirror, with Cara’s fingers deftly undoing soggy knots, Susan felt herself unravel slowly, the armour of tasks and purpose dropping away with her mud-splattered dress. It was not an entirely welcome relaxation.
“Cara.” She took the busy fingers gently, pulled Cara’s arms around her middle.
“What?” Cara met her eyes in the mirror, and Susan frowned at the dark circles under her eyes, the slightly laboured breathing.