12 Days of Christmas

Part 7 = 'Tis the Damn Season

This isn't the first time Kara has woken up alone after a hookup. That's not to say she has them often, well, not terribly often. Okay, so maybe now they're becoming a little bit more often, but since discovering that as attractive as she finds some men, she's more attracted to women, she's had some lost time to make up for. Who can blame her? Soft lips and subtle curves make a strong argument for doing the horizontal tango. So she does.

She does with a woman or two (okay four) at work. She does with a few (who's counting) women that she meets at bars and clubs. She even does with a woman she meets at her sister's office party. That's how she finds herself here, stretched out on sheets with a higher thread count than she knew existed and underneath a comforter she is fairly certain is stuffed with actual clouds. Mmmmm, cloud blankey.

The bed itself smells like vanilla, though a well-earned hint of sex still hangs in their air. In Kara's mind, it's the perfect combination. She could get used to waking up like this every morning especially if it's after a night like last night. Still, being alone in the home of someone that she knows biblically but not well doesn't allow her to relax long. She finally pulls herself out of bed and dresses, once she collects the bits and pieces of last night's outfit that are strewn about the room.

There's a long hallway she needs to navigate, stopping at a bathroom on the way, to find the stairs down. The place is bigger than she remembers, but to be fair, she was more concerned with the breast size of the raven-haired beauty last night. She peeks into the living room, seeing no one, and looks briefly for some way to scrawl a quick note of goodbye.

She smells food before she hears someone moving about in the kitchen. It's the rich odor of coffee, sizzling bacon, and some form of carbohydrate. It's enough to lure her to that room, to see what's being made and by whom (though she hopes she already knows the answer to the latter.)

She does. "Morning."

It's her hookup from last night... um... Lena! (Phew). Lena smiles over at Kara's greeting, green eyes as lovely in the morning light as they were under last evening's subtle illumination. Lena looks softer in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt than in last night's sheath dress and heels that could kill a man. As attractive as the woman was all made up, Kara finds herself instantly attracted to this more realistic but still stunning a person. She gets a quick flash of the 'get a girl who can do both' meme and relates in a visceral way.

"Good Morning." Right, Lena has an accent. It's slight in most words, but as they drank and laughed last night, it seemed to grow. It's as charming as the woman herself, and Kara hopes Lena didn't say where she was born. If so, it was lost in the alcohol and press of bodies. "I hope that I didn't wake you."

"Oh, no. I just, you know, woke up."

"Like you do," Lena says.

"Like you do," Kara agrees. A buzzer chimes on the stove, and Kara discovers what's making that delicious odor, as Lena pulls muffins out of the oven. Her stomach rumbles in response. "Sorry about that."

"You're hungry. Good." Lena pulls a plate and glass down, setting them on the kitchen table kitty cornered from the set already there. "I made plenty, and I have fresh squeezed orange juice. Won't you join me?"

Never one to turn down a lady or food, Kara readily agrees. She's pleased to find that the food, blueberry muffins, taste as good as they smell. Her eyes widen as Lena places three pieces of bacon on the plate with a quiet, "You need protein," that feels like a comment on last night's exercise regimen. She only hopes it isn't a criticism.

"Thank you," Kara says as her glass is filled. "These muffins are amazing. Did you make them from scratch?"

"I did. I love to cook. I don't have time during the week, so I take every opportunity to do it when I'm not at work. It's a nice change to be able to cook for someone else." The way Lena flits around the kitchen has Kara's mouth watering for an entirely different reason. It's homey and comfortable, so different from the elegant woman from the party and the passionate person she spent hours exploring in bed. Within the course of twelve hours, she's gotten to see three sides of this beautiful person, each more attractive than the last. "Coffee?"