A/N: Well! Been a long-ass time, hasn't it? I made my way through the show again in preparation for season 2, and the muse returned to wrap this up. Thanks for the encouragement, everyone - hopefully this is better late than never!

An achingly long silence passed, during which Trish wondered whether it'd be worth it to have mind–reading as a superpower. Most of the time Jessica was pretty forthcoming, but the times she wasn't were usually the instances where Trish would give anything to know what was going on inside her head. At that moment, she would not quite have been able to guess that Jessica was biting back words like, Shit, Trish. You're doing it to me again. You're making me want to get all romantic and shit and what the hell? How the hell do you do this to me?

(Kilgrave had been such a damn traditional romantic. To his twisted mind, he had never done anything wrong because in bed he had never acted physically forceful or made it rough. Why would he need to when his mere words were powerful enough to do the trick? He liked to fancy himself a gentleman and her an eager lady. His touch was gentle, but did not feel like a caress. Her lips moved softly, not from reverence or respect, but because it was what he commanded.)

(She had liked to think she broke the bed with Luke because they could, and it was a laugh. But maybe subconsciously it was something—anything—to get away from that fake fucking tenderness Kilgrave had tried to establish with his idea of "lovemaking.")

But this needs to be its own thing. It can be different from him, and different from Luke.

It's been Trish the whole damn time.

Jessica got up off the couch and held out her hand for Trish to take; in a moment they were standing almost toe–to–toe. Trish was surprised to feel Jessica's hands were cold and a little sweaty clasped within her own—and, unless Trish was very much mistaken, they were trembling. The trembling stopped when their foreheads touched.

"I've…um…been burned before," Jessica muttered, her usual wryness absent.

"Never again," Trish whispered. "Not while I'm around."

Though a meager smile passed at the sincere sentiment, Jessica said, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Trish. I believe your intentions, but let's not get carried away here."

Trish's instinct was to protest, but she took a moment to consider what Jessica was saying. Just because Kilgrave was gone didn't mean his effect would be; they had learned that the first time they'd believed him to be dead.

"God damn, why do I keep doing this to myself?" Jessica snorted. "You know what I keep thinking of?"

"What?"

"Something you said to me. You said… you told me that when this was all over, when I won, you hoped I'd finally allow myself some happiness. And then I run my big mouth like some kinda dipshit when I've got a pretty good idea what'd make me happy. It's just an extension of what's kept me sane through all of this."

"You know that would make me happy too, right?"

Jessica swiftly picked her up, and after getting over her initial surprise, Trish smiled and wrapped her legs around Jessica's waist. Taking Jessica's face in her hands with a gentle touch, Trish dipped her head down to kiss her. It was short and delicate, yet enlivening almost beyond belief. The impulse was to kiss her back immediately, but Jessica first walked them over to the bed, depositing Trish in the middle of it and balancing herself over her. Trish's hand slid from Jessica's face, receiving a kiss on the palm on its way down.

Jessica lowered her head and Trish lifted her own to meet her in a kiss, but Jessica shifted to the side, brushing her lips against Trish's cheek. Dark hair tickled Trish's skin, just as the breath from her shaky—satisfied—sigh broke against Jessica's. Short, manicured nails grazed Jessica's back, digging in a little harder as Jessica left a longer, more purposeful kiss on Trish's neck.

She said to just show her. But you could at least say something. Anything. She deserves much more, but definitely at least that.

"I like that you call me Jess," she whispered.

"Jess" was short, sweet, to the point. Not drawn out to three full syllables in a commanding or condescending tone. Not cutesy like "Jessie." Just Jess.

"It suits you," came the murmured reply.

Trish didn't want to wait any longer and she reached for Jessica's head, bringing their lips together again. Her fingers traced Jessica's cheeks before rising up into her hair.

"You'll say, right?" Jessica asked. "You'll say if I'm hurting you, or I'm doing something you don't like?"

"Of course," she said. "Jess, we're here because we both want to be here. Nobody can come between us anymore, not my mother and not K—"

"Trish."

She looked surprised to be getting cut off. "What?"

"I don't want to hear his name ever again." Her tone was serious, but not angry or demanding. Trish nodded her understanding. Jessica then sat up on her knees, pulling her hair back. "This is getting in the way."

It was a small thing, but she liked that even while she was performing this simple utilitarian task, Trish's touch hadn't stilled. Her hands lightly massaged Jessica's thighs as Jessica made quick work of putting her hair into a sloppy bun and lowered herself back down. This was a strange sensation: she felt jittery and calm all at once, hovering over Trish.

There was so much she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure how to put it all into words. And even if she could, it'd feel like too much. If she tried to articulate any of the joy, guilt, love, or desperation coursing through her at this very moment, she'd probably never shut up.

That's why you're here, genius. She said to show her. Make it count. Show her.

One hand was planted on the bed near Trish's shoulder, holding Jess up, while the other had restlessly been moving along Trish's side before Jessica forced herself to stop dawdling and get into action.

But she had only planted one kiss on Trish's neck before she started chuckling.

"Do I want to know what that's about?" Trish asked.

"Reminiscing a minute ago about the music we used to make each other listen to, I just thought of that terrible, cheesy Boyz II Men song you loved so much."

"One Sweet Day?"

"No, the…" Jessica was looking down at her now, their eyes locked, and her breath seemed to vanish for a moment. There was so much love and trust evident in Trish's gaze; she wondered how she'd managed to go so long avoiding what it really meant. "Y'know, that stupid one one that went like…" She cleared her throat and when her voice returned it was quiet, but still trying to keep things light as her whisper mimicked a power ballad: "I'll make love to you, if you want me to."

She was still trying to laugh, but Trish wasn't joining in. With a completely serious tone, Trish said, "I want you to."

That simple phrase knocked away any of Jessica's last remaining hesitations, and she met Trish in a kiss. Memories came flooding back to her – she remembered the newness and uncertainty which had colored the first kisses they'd shared all those years ago, when neither of them had had any experience and were still figuring things out. Self-consciousness had no place in their bed tonight, but that didn't mean the complete erasure of anything new.

Her lips traveled down Trish's chest, hands preparing to pull up her shirt. But she paused, kissing the tip of Trish's breast through her t-shirt. No words were necessary to know they were both reliving the same memory of the last time they had tried fooling around as kids, when the farthest they'd gone was to have Trish do this same thing to Jess. But with a soft moan and slow roll of the hips from Trish, Jessica snapped the nostalgia short and helped Trish remove her top.

She couldn't help pausing again, and later—when she was still lying awake at night as Trish slept by her side—she would contemplate how she'd been unable to hesitate like this during sex for quite some time. Once Kilgrave got going, he didn't like to stop, and given the option, she'd be damned if she ever drew out a round with him. She'd had some nice moments with Luke in the quietness afterwards, but during the actual act the main focus was on physical gratification. There'd been too much discomfort and distrust (with herself) to allow much time for other kinds of appreciation. The burgeoning personal connection to Luke had had to be compartmentalized for any hope of making the physical connection to work.

But this, here, this was like livewires crossing and she could not help stopping—not to stare, but to admire.

"Oh, wow."

The words slipped out in a whisper just before she kissed Trish again, soon retracing her way back down to her breasts.

Beautiful beautiful beautiful.

Trish's back arched, her mouth opened to a silent gasp. Her hands latched onto Jessica's head, while Jessica tried not to get too greedy even as she was already blindly tugging down Trish's sweats. She wasn't rushing because she wanted it over with; she was rushing because it was all too good to be true and she couldn't get enough.

Savoring was a skill she had lost years ago but was now desperate to regain.

She moved back up, meeting Trish in a deep kiss, but not for long: she broke it off with an involuntary gasp when her hand brushed between Trish's legs.

"Shit," she whispered. "Trish, you're so…"

"Mm, I know." Trish rolled her hips, seeking more contact. "Jess, please…"

Jessica moved her hand forward and was about to kiss her again but held back when Trish swore and moaned. Trish's eyes were screwed shut, missing the sight of Jessica regarding her in awe. She didn't want a single sound from Trish to be muted by a kiss. She wanted to hear every whimper, every groan, every breathy swear that came tumbling from that beautiful mouth. Jessica shifted, keeping her hand at a fervent pace between Trish's legs and her returning her lips to Trish's breast. One then both of Trish's hands went back to Jessica's head, holding her there until Trish tensed, her body straining to move and not to budge at the same time.

Jessica had been so lost in what she was doing that she was almost surprised when Trish's full weight relaxed. She brought her hand back around to Trish's thigh and moved up the bed to rest next to her.

"That was quick," she whispered.

It was hard to tell if Trish was annoyed or amused by the quip until her eyes opened and fixed on Jessica's, and her small smile reached them. She reached over to rest her fingers on Jessica's cheek and inched closer, bringing their foreheads together. "Feels like I've been waiting a long time."

They stayed side-by-side, kissing until Trish realized her sweats were still strung along her ankles. She laughed and ducked away to remove them altogether. When she rolled back, Jessica was watching her hesitantly.

"Jess?" She got close again, taking gentle hold of Jessica's waist and fingering the hem of her shirt. "What do you want?"

"I want…"

Her head spun with the possibilities, and with appreciation that Trish asked instead of took. Jessica sat up a little, turning off the lamp on the nightstand and plunging the room into darkness. This made it more comfortable for her to undress quickly, and she soon rejoined Trish under the sheets.

I just want to feel your body against mine.

Jessica leaned forward for another kiss, bringing their bodies together. One of Trish's legs slipped between hers, and Jessica moaned at the contact. She shifted onto her back, pulling Trish on top of her and then Trish's hands were on her body and oh God, oh God, oh God—! Jessica rolled her hips upwards as Trish thrust against her. Every part of her was tensing with pleasure before she fell limp.

Trish propped herself up as a precursor to moving off, but stopped when Jessica touched her hip. Her other hand skirted down Trish's body until it stopped between her legs.

"Shit, that's not fair," Trish whimpered, her limbs weakening.

Jessica pulled back at once, even though she wasn't sure what Trish meant about fairness. "Should I stop?"

"No!" Trish laughed. "No, no, no, God, no, I'm just babbling. Come on." She met Jessica in another kiss.

It didn't take long for Trish to collapse on top of her with deep, shuddering breaths. Jessica's arms encircled her. She kissed Trish's forehead and closed her eyes. After a minute or two, Trish pulled back again, kissing Jessica's cheek and then her lips. She slowly moved off Jessica and this time met no resistance. Jessica shifted to kiss her again, but it was different this time. This was after-play, not foreplay; these kisses weren't building up to something, they were winding down. It was lazy and slow and comfortable.

Comfort, yes. There was comfort in returning to this familiarity. They had fallen asleep like this many times as teenagers, albeit with less sex and more clothes back then. But they would lie there and kiss until consciousness ebbed away, and they would trade off on big spoon/little spoon roles. Usually though, Trish would curl into Jessica's side and rest her head on her chest, sometimes in a position to listen to Jessica's heartbeat. Those were the times Jessica most often opened up: still vulnerable and emotional and keyed up from making out, and feeling protected by the darkness and Trish's closeness.

It happened again tonight.

"I think my parents liked my brother more than they liked me."

Trish lifted her head off Jessica's shoulder to look at her, wondering if she'd heard that right. "What?"

Jessica kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Maybe not at first, but at the end I think so. I can't blame them, though. He was a funny, well-behaved kid and I was a whiny, obnoxious teenager. Well, I mean you know that."

"I would never think of you as whiny. You were obnoxious, for sure." They shared a chuckle over that. "But not whiny."

"Yeah," Jessica said with a deep sigh. "Angsty as fuck, though. I've never talked about this, because it seemed like a shitty thing to be fixated on. Like we should only have warm and fuzzy feelings about people who are gone, and anything else isn't or shouldn't be allowed. That's what the school psychologist made me feel like, anyway."

"Well then she was a sucky psychologist," Trish said without hesitation.

"I dunno, I didn't listen to her half the time, so I'm sure I'm not giving her due her credit. I don't know where the hell all my anger issues came from before my parents died. Maybe that was just normal teen angst, and then it got amplified. I was pissed at them for dying because it meant I couldn't be mad at them anymore," she said with a sour laugh.

Of course, that wasn't all, and they both knew it. Jessica appreciated that she didn't have to outline all her thoughts, that Trish could be counted upon to fill in the blanks more often than not. When she remembered that, it made sharing thoughts out loud much less of a daunting task.

"Parents shouldn't have favorites, and I'm sure they didn't, really. But I think I've always been kind of ...sad." A word she hated to use, but no others seemed to apply. "Sad because I didn't feel like I came in first with anyone. For a long time I felt like my parents would've wanted my brother to live instead of me, if they'd somehow had a choice."

Trish said nothing, but strengthened her hold on Jessica. The gesture provided more comfort and reassurance than empty words could have. Jessica acknowledged it by rubbing Trish's back before going on.

"You were the first person who ever made me feel like I came in first with someone. And I don't mean in a romantic way, or whatever. I just mean any way. I thought I came in second with my parents. My friends at school put me on the bottom rung. I didn't think I cared about anyone and that I didn't need to. But then you started hanging out in my room, every night, and I... it's like I started being human again. I could laugh. I could feel. Jesus," she sighed. "I was so damn needy; I'm hearing it now."

Trish propped herself up. "Jess?" Her eyes had adjusted to the dark by now, but not quite enough to make out the nuances of Jessica's expression. "It's not needy to want to feel things, okay? It's not needy to want to feel, well, needed. Okay, I hear it now, but you know what I mean, right?"

Jessica snorted and put her arm around Trish, pulling her back down. "See, this is what I meant about being better at showing than telling."

"I think you were doing a pretty good job. Was there more?"

The silence that followed was so long that Trish thought maybe Jessica had exhausted her emotional reserves. But then she started again, her voice softer than before:

"After we um, cooled off, I never thought I'd have that again. More teen angst, I guess, but this was my fault because I said it'd be better for us to spend more time with other people. Or spend less time alone. And then the shit with Kilgrave..."

"We don't have to talk about that," Trish whispered.

"I know. Yeah. I messed up after that first time. I thought it'd be best for both of us if I kept my distance, but damn was that a bad idea. Thanks, Trish. Thanks for being there. Thanks for... everything."

Trish kissed her cheek, and Jessica turned to meet her lips with her own. The blazing desire that had earlier surged through them both had now simmered to a different, but no less pleasurable, kind of want. Trish shifted her leg across both of Jessica's, and Jessica grasped it gently, pulling her in just to feel her close. She traced her fingers along Trish's back; Trish hummed into their kiss.

"I know it didn't always show," Jessica murmured. "And you probably already know this by now, but you never stopped being my number one. So I guess this…" She went in for another kiss. "…was maybe inevitable."

"In a good way, I hope?"

"Yeah, Trish. A good way."

Trish kissed Jessica's nose, and laughed when Jessica's response was to wrinkle it. "Jess?"

"Yeah, Trish?"

"I love you, too."

The End