Chapter Text
The night shift was never going to be her favorite, but there was something enticing about being paid double time for being willing to work during exam week, especially when she wasn’t expected to do much more than sit on her ass, reading or studying. The section of the second floor she was supervising, typically reserved for individual study spaces, was eerily quiet and sparsely populated, though perhaps that was fitting for ten p.m. on a Thursday night. Shauna moved idly through the rows of tables, pulling a small cart beside her, as she picked up any books, study accoutrement, or trash left behind by harried, sleep-deprived students. She was grateful it was mostly library materials and miscellaneous printouts she was collecting, though she was building up an impressive collection of decent pens she’d likely be sneaking back to her dorm after midnight.
Never underestimate the scavenging skills of a starving college student.
Cleaning up was a self-imposed effort to stretch her legs a little after sitting for two hours, but as the task dragged on, she found her thoughts straying to the copy of Tipping the Velvet she had hiding under a collection of Virginia Woolf essays back at her desk. Eager to return to it, she picked up the pace, the traitorous parts of her brain looking to soothe her boredom with a fantasy of stepping out into Victorian London in a three-piece suit and tophat, a beautiful woman on her arm who bore a haunting resemblance to Jackie Taylor.
Before she could indulge any further in her daydreams, the old elevator announced its arrival on her floor with a low ping, the accordion gate groaning open to reveal her temporary supervisor for the week, Dr. Hawkins. He was a tall, spindly man whose sharp, pointed nose and habit of looking down at people over the thick frames of his glasses earned him the nickname “Hawkman” among the junior staff. Hawkman was very clearly in a strop as he approached her with a deep scowl, lips pursed like he’d eaten something sour. Though he was never one to possess a pleasant demeanor, he had clearly drawn the short stick when it came to the finals week schedule, making his displeasure the problem of every student stuck working with him.
Hawkins spared her the briefest of glances, attention locked on the clipboard in his hands. “Shipman, I’m sending you downstairs for the rest of your shift.”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “Downstairs? Are you taking over for me, sir?”
Hawkins sniffed derisively. “Heather will be taking over your desk. She and I were working on a cataloguing problem, so she’s bringing our materials up here as we speak.” He glanced up again with those beady dark eyes. “Get going, Ms. Shipman. You know the library policy about leaving public areas unattended.”
Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Shauna stuffed her books and journal into her messenger bag, flying down the staff stairwell lest Hawkins change his mind and she be stuck longer in the second floor’s oppressive silence.
She slung the bag over her shoulder as she reemerged into the staff-only hallways of the ground floor, debating with herself whether whoever was covering in the front would mind waiting for her to grab a cup of coffee. As she oscillated between her options the closer she drew to the break room, a petite redhead stuck her head out of the staff office to flag her down. “Shauna!”
Grace's little whisper-shouts were usually as adorable as her freckled cheeks and bright smiles, but the usually sunny grad student was looking anything but, immediately drawing Shauna's concern. “Grace?”
Grace hesitated, freckles standing stark against her pale, anxious face. Her discomfort stirred something protective in Shauna, soft as she was for her from the day the perky ginger first introduced herself (haunting Shauna with memories of Van, human sunshine, and Laura Lee, sweetness personified). She immediately turned on her heel to backtrack to the office, hovering protectively as her hands landed gently on Grace's shoulders. “Gracie, what's wrong?”
Grace grimaced. “You, uh…you don’t actually have to go out front. Kim has it covered.”
Shauna's brows arched so high they nearly hit her hairline. “Ohh-Kay. Then why did Hawkins send me down here?”
“He didn't have anything to do with it, Heather just took one for the team.” Seeing the way Shauna's expression tightened with suspicion and expectation, she winced. Her cheeks puffed as if she was holding her breath, her next words coming out in a rush. “Someone showed up asking for you, said she knows you from back home. She looks like she really needs a friend- I'msosorryweliedShauna!”
Shauna blinked, taking a few beats for Grace's hurried tangle of words to fully register. Her face relaxed into a soft, amused smile as she realized all the strange behavior was just sweet Grace’s distaste for lies and subterfuge. She gave Grace’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, running through a quick mental catalogue of who the mysterious ‘she’ could be.
The list was admittedly pretty short when it came to Wiskayok. It was possible Tai was spinning out for the umpteenth time about her plan to reconnect with Van over winter break. Less likely was Lottie, especially traveling so far without a phone call first, but they had bonded after graduation about mental health struggles, and she might seek Shauna out in a crisis if Laura Lee wasn’t available. The only other option Shauna could think of was Melissa, doubtful as it was; a summer fling a couple years ago certainly brought them closer, but even their amicable split hadn’t left them in regular contact.
Bemused, she could only obediently follow after Grace into the office, still mulling over possible candidates when the door swung fully open and the small room came fully into view. The sight that greeted her immediately froze her in her tracks- spine stiffening, back ramrod straight, as her feet refused to move, feeling heavy as lead against the hallways’s linoleum floor.
Her mind stuttered and stumbled, struggling to comprehend whether the figure before her was a mirage born of her deep yearning, or if the universe had finally tired of her indecision and decided to be equal parts cruel and benevolent.
Jackie Taylor was just as breathtaking at twenty-two as she'd been at eighteen, even as she appeared in that moment as the picture of vulnerable beauty. The modest red dress she wore was a choice Shauna hadn’t seen from her often back in high school, favoring a more daring, trendy cut when they went to parties, or polos, casual buttondowns, and sweaters when she was out of Mrs. Taylor’s judgemental eyeline. Her honey-blonde hair had been curled at one point, now lying disheveled and limp as if Jackie had been running her fingers through it continuously.
It was her face that left a painful lump of emotion catching in Shauna’s throat, her big doll eyes red-rimmed and teary. Her makeup was running, mascara staining those familiar porcelain cheeks. The mess was being tenderly wiped away with a tissue by Angie, a comparative literature major who often boasted of being named for Maya Angelou (it wasn’t completely unearned, as she was a talented poet).
Shauna swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, lips parting to breathe life to a name she had rarely let herself voice in years. “Jackie?”
Jackie turned her head to face her, Shauna’s heart twisting when the other woman looked ready to start crying all over again. Her lips quivered as she managed a tremulous smile, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “Hiya, Shipman. Long time, no see.”
Shauna huffed out an incredulous little chuckle. “God, Taylor, you always did know how to make an entrance.” Her own vision got blurry as she tentatively stepped closer, stopping when there was less than a couple feet left between them. The pull of her felt heavy and full, inevitable as fate itself, written in the laws of the universe that where Jackie Taylor dwelt, the heart, soul, and mind of Shauna Shipman was destined to be drawn back into her orbit. But unlike her teenage self, young adult Shauna possessed not a single impulse to resist the lure of gravity. “Hi, Jackie. It’s really good to see you.”
Jackie’s watery smile got a little bigger, a little more genuine. She was so clearly nervous, Shauna wanted to erase all the years apart in an instant and wrap around her protectively. She restrained herself, just barely.
“Yeah?” Jackie asked quietly, a soft, fragile hope in her eyes.
“Yeah,” Shauna affirmed. Her eyes swept over Jackie’s form once more, but this time it was less about drinking her in and more about assessing the situation. The dress was long, nearly coming to Jackie’s ankles, and the satiny material of the skirt was splattered with wet patches, likely from the slush and snow typical of a Rhode Island December. There was a tan trenchcoat draped over the back of her chair- one of those short, tapered things meant more as a fashion statement than real protection from the elements- but the sleeves of her dress cut off above the elbow, exposing her long forearms covered in goosebumps.
Shauna’s hands automatically went to the hem of her crewneck sweater, a deep forest green matching the green and black flannel she wore underneath. She pulled it off and closed that small distance between her and Jackie, taking Jackie’s elbows with a simple instruction. “Up.”
Jackie obeyed, her face lighting up as she lifted her arms like Shauna had just offered her Gucci instead of something from a K-mart men’s section. She looked unfairly adorable once Shauna tugged the sweater down over her head and shoulders, absolutely swimming in it as Shauna was now the taller of the two, with fuller hips and breasts, broader shoulders, and bigger biceps from regular workouts. She might not have loved soccer, but she liked the athleticism, and activities like boxing, weightlifting and rockclimbing did wonders for keeping her temper in check.
“Thank you,” Jackie muttered shyly, looking up at Shauna through her lashes. She reached up to smooth down a few flyaways hairs on Shauna's head, freezing halfway through the action as realization caught up with her. She drew her hand away, looking uncertain.
Shauna smiled with a gentleness that seemed to catch Jackie off-guard, the shorter girl looking up at her with awe. Shauna opened her arms and Jackie flew into them, clutching desperately to the solid reassurance of Shauna’s presence. She shivered, nestling close, and Shauna tightened her hold, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “What happened, sweetie?”
“My parents.” She pressed her face to Shauna’s shoulder, feeling the way the brunette’s muscles tensed at the mention. “I…” she trailed off, peeking over Shauna to glimpse Grace and Angie still lingering, pointedly looking away but unsure if they might still be needed.
Shauna caught the direction of her gaze and straightened up, reluctantly drawing her arms away. “Sounds like we have things to talk about. I can take you back to my place?” At Jackie’s eager nod, she continued. “Gracie, Ang, are you able to keep covering with Hawkins?”
Grace nodded so quickly she resembled a little ginger bobblehead and Angie grinned, waving a hand in Shauna's direction with a carefree confidence. “Don't worry about Hawkman.” She remained unrepentant at Grace's little reprimand over the nickname. “We already got you signed out for a family emergency. Kim has the first floor covered, Michelle's closing the third before she heads out, and Heather'll keep Hawknose occupied.” She paused for a moment, raising her eyebrows for dramatic effect. “Might wanna send her a fruit basket or something. She's really taking one for the team.”
“Her sacrifice is noted and appreciated,” Shauna replied dryly.
Jackie hummed thoughtfully. “Last time I was in New Haven, there was a new business doing fancy things with fruit arrangements, like you do with flowers? Edible Arrangements, I think. It wouldn't be hard to call in an order.”
Shauna smiled fondly, dropping another kiss to her forehead. Jackie’s skin hummed pleasantly at the easy affection. “That sounds really nice, Jax. I'll write it down when we get home.”
Jax. “When we get home.” The hum only intensified.
If Jackie was reluctant to separate so Shauna could retrieve her things from her locker (and trying not to show it), Shauna was openly unhappy to do so. She got that broody, scowly look on her face Jackie remembered so well, the combination of her apple cheeks and doe eyes making the expression resemble a pout more than anything else. Still, she did begrudgingly let go of Jackie, looking for all the world like a toddler whose favorite toy was being taken away. She pecked Jackie's forehead one last time and finally left the room.
Three forehead kisses in the span of ten minutes. That happy little hum might never fade.
In her absence, Jackie wrapped her arms around herself, savoring the warmth lingering on the sweater. Before she could do something really embarrassing, like lift the collar to her nose in search of a familiar scent, she felt the weight of eyes on her, and her hands stilled.
Grace was quick to make herself busy with packing up for the night, but Angie met Jackie’s questioning gaze head-on, folding her arms across her chest with a mischievous grin. “Sooo…is Shauna someone special to you?”
Much to her mortification, Jackie felt heat rise to her cheeks, all the more evident with her foundation and blush half washed away. She gave Angie a tentative, shy smile, wondering if Shauna had ever blushed at the thought or mention of her any time in the last three years. It was an endearing flush that used to creep up Shauna's neck and turn the tips of her ears a bright, burning red whenever Jackie flirted or teased just right.
She longed to see it again.
“Childhood friends,” she answered finally.
“Special indeed,” Angie sing-songed, cocking an eyebrow with a sly little smirk.
Reappearing at her side with not just her bag but Angie’s as well, Grace rolled her eyes at the poet’s dramatics. “Ignore her. Jackie, right? I’m glad you’ve come to visit. I haven’t seen Shauna smile like that in quite a while.”
From how her face grew warmer, Jackie could only guess her blush was deepening, but she was thankfully saved from further embarrassment (gentle interrogation?) by Shauna returning, clad now in a sharp black peacoat and knitted cap in heather-gray. She held out a pair of bright red earmuffs in one hand (an accessory that wasn’t characteristic of Shauna at all, instead something Jackie would have chosen for herself when they were younger), and a cozy-looking scarf matching the hat in the other. Jackie would recognize Bubbe Miriam’s handiwork anywhere, having received a matching set of her own every Hanukkah from fifth grade to senior year.
Tears pricked her eyes at the warm memory, eagerly reaching for the scarf. She could almost smell the familiar mix of peppermint and Chanel No. 5, feel herself press a greeting kiss to a papery, wrinkled cheek as her own was affectionately pinched. As she wrapped the knitted warmth around her neck, she could almost hear a soft, “Hello, my shayna punim,” feel the phantom weight of a plate being placed in her hands, heavy with cinnamon babka and candied fruit.
As always, it ached horribly to remember what she’d lost when she and Shauna fell apart.
Once again displaying an emotional competence Jackie would have killed for either of them to manage in high school, Shauna seemed to immediately clock her sombering mood. She frowned in concern and gave Jackie’s shoulder a quick squeeze as she reached for her coat, holding it open and giving her finger a little twirl to indicate Jackie should turn around.
“So chivalrous, Shipman,” Jackie teased as she turned as bid, butterflies in her stomach as she slid her arms into the coat and Shauna’s strong hands tucked the jacket around her shoulders. The brunette snorted in amusement at the tease and physically turned Jackie back to face her, smoothing down the lapels and fastening the few buttons there were. She frowned contemplatively and clicked her tongue, finally looking up again to meet Jackie’s eyes. There was a familiar look on her face, dissatisfied but resigned to her circumstances.
“That’ll have to do. I know better than to try getting you into my coat. You’d just argue with me and stomp off outside until you made yourself a Jackisicle.”
Too moved by the abundant affection and care to even feign offense, Jackie just giggled and mirrored Shauna’s earlier attentions, fiddling with the lapels of the peacoat. She pressed a sweet kiss to Shauna’s cheek, leaning up to whisper in the writer’s ear. “Don’t worry, Ship. If our talk goes well, maybe I’ll let you have a lick later.”
Shauna’s face exploded with color, her mouth falling open in shock as Jackie drew back with a smug grin. Jackie giggled at the gobsmacked expression and briefly considered snatching the hat off Shauna’s head to see her ears flush. She linked their arms together instead, not so discreetly giving one of those toned biceps an appreciative squeeze. Shauna apparently wasn't flustered enough to ignore those pettier, possessive instincts that always lingered between them, automatically upping the physical affection ante with a protective arm around Jackie’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Holding her as tight and snug as she had since their first sleepover in elementary school, as if she could keep Jackie forever safe and warm through sheer physical presence alone.
(She wasn’t entirely wrong)
Grace was polite enough to hide her giggles behind the hand she placed over her mouth, but Angie laughed, loud and boisterous, at Shauna’s expense. She threw back her head as she cackled delightedly, pearly white teeth contrasting strikingly against her warm brown skin. Jackie might be a bit jealous that Shauna had such gorgeous friends if it wasn’t for the absolutely smitten look on Grace’s face as she watched Angie’s joyful expression.
Angie wheezed, leaning her shaking body against Grace's smaller frame for balance. “Oh my God, Shaun. I don't know what she said, but I wish you weren't so anal about the snow and that camera you're always carrying around. That expression deserves to be fucking immortalized, babe. Like the time that finance douche said there wasn't anything queer about Whitman's poetry and we were delusional.”
For three years, there'd been a box in the back of Jackie's mind labeled Shipman, opened and resealed more times than she wanted to admit despite how often she berated herself for it. But those little pieces of metaphorical tape were growing weaker for months, slipped looser and looser over that drive to Providence, finally springing free at Angie's words and launching Jackie straight into a memory:
Sundays were theirs, full of quiet hours spent locked away in Shauna’s room, privacy guaranteed by Deb working a weekend double. The low afternoon sun cast a dreamy, halcyon glow through the attic windows, spilling like liquid gold over their naked skin as they lay entwined in Shauna’s narrow twin bed.
Auburn highlights danced through the thick mane of hair Jackie’s hands were buried wrist-deep in, her fingers gently threading through the dark tresses as Shauna slowly, leisurely, kissed her way down Jackie's body. Eyes the color of melted chocolate turned honey gold when they caught the light, determinedly holding Jackie's gaze as Shauna mapped freckles and tan lines, reciting bits of poetry against her skin. Cummings and Whitman, Dickinson and Neruda- reverent words of beauty and passion, whispered tenderly until Shauna's mouth found its destination and became otherwise occupied. Still, they lingered and echoed in Jackie's head, only fading away when thinking altogether became impossible to maintain.
Jackie could have lost herself in those memories for quite a while, distantly aware of Shauna’s grumbled, “Fuck off, Ang,” as she watched Shipman’s rosy color deepen to the shade of a ripe tomato. But something Angie said drew her attention back from her daydreams, looking up at Shauna with wide eyes.
Shauna’s lip was curled in annoyance, likely about to launch another retort when Jackie squeezed her arm, her attention immediately reverting back to the woman beside her. It would be almost comical how quickly her face softened, if Jackie wasn’t so caught up in the soppy feelings about it. “Jax? You okay?”
Jackie stared back at her with those eyes- hazel-green with little flecks of gold, like a verdant forest floor dappled in sunlight, wide and eager and imploring, urgently asking some question Shauna couldn’t yet answer as it hadn’t been asked.
“Is she talking about the Nikon, Ship? Do you still have it?”
The question was spoken softly, with a forced casualness, but Shauna saw right through her, saw the tentative hope and trepidation, the way she was bracing herself for a negative answer but trying so hard to keep a little kernel of hope alive behind her guard.
Warmth swelled in Shauna’s chest, spreading through her like a slow, syrupy sweetness that made it hard to deny how much Jackie Taylor still possessed of her heart.
The Nikon FM10 had been Jackie’s gift to her for her sixteenth birthday. She took it everywhere with her for most of junior year and long into the summer after. Then Jackie came back from a family vacation letting Jeff steal away their Sundays, no longer reciprocating “I love you”s, and Shauna stopped carrying the camera around.
“Of course it’s the Nikon, Jax.”
It was snowing as they walked out of the library together, still wrapped around each other. Fat, lazy flakes fell with a lethargic, haphazard air, melting against Shauna’s cheeks like tiny wet kisses, catching in the curls of Jackie’s hair. Jackie felt the weight of Shauna’s eyes on her and smiled softly, nose crinkling at the damp touch of a snowflake.
Shauna raised her free hand and touched her fingers to the underside of Jackie’s chin, tipping Jackie’s face up and leaning down until they were nose to nose. Soft white puffs of breath lingered in the cold air between them, foreheads gently meeting. A sharp intake of breath, long lashes fluttering closed, slender fingers curling around her wrist- and Shauna Shipman was just as enamored at twenty-two as she’d been at fourteen-sixteen-twelve-eighteen.
Shauna remembered their first kiss.
It snowed heavily the night before, the first real snow of the season. It was a Saturday morning after a sleepover, Jackie waking her in a tizzy of excitement at the sight of Shauna’s yard blanketed in white. Shauna would remember for years how bright her eyes were, how pretty her face was when lit up with joy.
Jackie’s overeagerness got them caught before they made it out the door, scolded by Shauna’s mother and made to bundle up before they were allowed outside. Buzzing with excitement like the familiar mascot Jackie had been aspiring for since flipping through the Taylors’ premium channels had landed them on the 1991 Women’s World Cup and Jackie became obsessed. She barely waited for Shauna to step into her boots before she was pulling her out the door and into a world of pure, breathtaking white.
Jackie was beautiful in her excitement, even as her cheeks and nose turned nearly as red as her bright cherry earmuffs, snowflakes catching in her bouncing curls. Hand in hand, she pulled Shauna into a strange, spinning dance, bright crystalline laughter breaking through the cold, crisp air as they whirled and twirled about.
She doesn’t remember who lost their balance first, but they were so tightly wrapped around one another that gravity took its toll, sending them both plummeting toward the ground. They fell into a shallow snow drift with a dramatic plop, Shauna flat on her back with Jackie on top of her.
Jackie managed to lean up by steadying herself against Shauna’s shoulders, only to freeze partway when their faces ended up only inches apart, Jackie staring down at her with an unreadable expression. Shauna would never forget the pounding of her heart, the painful catch of a half-finished breath in her throat.
A cold nose grazed against hers, hot breath mingling, lashes brushed against her skin in a butterfly kiss. Then warm lips brushing against hers, a real kiss, lingering longer than they could reasonably just call an accident, soft, chaste, and sweet.
The fragile moment was shattered a moment later when a call came from the house, her mom calling them for lunch. Jackie sprang away from her, looking terrified.
They were twelve. Jackie gave her the silent treatment for a full two days before Shauna finally stopped trying to get her to talk about it. It wouldn’t stop Shauna from feeling a pang of hurt when Jackie came over during their freshman year, excited about the prospect of her “first kiss” with Jeff. Wouldn’t stop her from coaxing Shauna into “practicing,” upping the ante every year they grew older until Shauna knew every dip and curve of Jackie’s body better than her own.
In the end, it was “practice” that broke them.
This time, it was Shauna who closed the distance, and Jackie welcomed her beautifully. Jackie’s arms twined around Shauna’s neck, fingers sliding into her hair, and those gorgeous lips parted beneath hers with a sweet little sigh.
As they stood there in a college parking lot, kissing languidly in the snow, Shauna wasn’t sure if it was three or ten or seventeen years in the making, but every bit of the wait felt worth it in that moment.