Trini is slowly woken up by lips pressing featherlight kisses to her hair, hands rubbing soothing circles along her shoulder, her hip. She nestles into the warmth in her side, below her, tightens her leg thrown over hips, her hand splayed against ribs, and burrows her nose into soft skin, inhales sea salt and the remnants of familiar perfume; Kim. The hands on her body cuddle her closer, the lips press firmer. She has never woken up feeling so relaxed, so content. They both sigh. "Good morning."

Trini kisses Kim's collarbone, the thrumming pulse at her neck, the underside of her jaw. Tilts her head up and smiles into the meeting of their lips once, twice. Wishes that she could wake up like this every day. "Morning."

Kim pulls the green afghan back up from where it had bunched around their waists during the night and tucks it under Trini's chin, brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand finds her shoulder again, anchoring Trini to her without making her feel trapped, as her lips brush her temple, "I love you."

Trini's heart swells as she completely relaxes into her girlfriend; warm and safe and a little overwhelmed with happiness. She is pretty sure that she has not stopped smiling since last night; tucked into Kim's arms on Zack's worn couch as they whispered about nothing and traded chaste, and not so chaste, kisses until they fell asleep. The insecure part of her, a part that has become smaller and smaller since finding that yellow coin, had been sure that Kim would leave before the morning. But Kim is here and Kim is clinging to Trini just as much as Trini is clinging to her and Kim loves her. She tilts her head up again and Kim finds her lips in the dark. "I love you, too." They hug closer and she settles into Kim's shoulder. Lets herself drift back into sleep. Feels Kim's circling fingers, steady breaths slow as she does the same.

…

Something shakes her shoulder, jolting her awake again. "Oh no you don't. It took me five minutes to wake you guys up the first time." Trini tries to shrug Zack's hand off and groans, buries her face in Kim's shirt when he flicks on the lamp. "You two have school."

Kim's hand slides from her hip to her thigh under the afghan, runs up and down her leg. "We're up."

Trini feels Kim's other hand thread into her hair, massage her scalp, and she hums happily, burrows her nose into Kim's neck. "No we're not."

"What time is it?" Kim kisses her temple; Trini can feel her amused smile against her skin, and gives her thigh a squeeze before starting to slide out from under her. Trini groans in protest, skims her hand from ribs to waist, rubs the pads of her fingers against smooth skin. Kim sucks in a breath, cheeks flushing. "That's cheating." She trails her fingers from her shoulder down to her hand, her own fingers, and threads them together, brings them up to her lips, whispers "we have to get up," into her knuckles. She calls back to Zack, "you're not going to school?"

Trini hears Zack shuffle into the kitchen, floorboards creaking under his padded steps. Cabinet doors open and close. He raises his voice so that it carries over the shaking of pill bottles, "a little after four." The stove clicks on. "Frank's got some work for me at the Seaside Complex; two apartments need a fresh coat of paint and a dryer's busted." The faucet runs. Shuts off. Runs again. Silence. Then Zack's resigned voice; "we need the money."

Trini finally manages to sit up fully, pressed into Kim's side, and runs the fingers of her free hand through her hair in frustration. She knows that he is right; the Taylors moved twice in three years, too, from a house that still has Zack's birthday height marks etched into a bedroom doorframe to a ground floor two bedroom apartment with handicap access to a trailer that his mother has not left in months. That he skips meals. That he hates when she stocks the pantry but loves his mother more than his pride so he always tells her 'thank you.' She also knows that Mrs. Taylor would give up anything to see him graduate, that he started his senior year with all AP classes and the promise of scholarships. That he and Billy could probably design an death ray or blow up half of the mountain together if Jason did not hover over them like a mother hen.

And they may be superheroes and they may have saved the earth but she cannot fix any of this; so when he reappears from the kitchen with a glass of water and a capful of pills worth more than Kim's oversized television she just asks, "see you at practice?"

Zack hesitates, looking down at them from behind the couch, and nods. "Yeah."

Kim kisses the back of her hand one more time before standing and starting to fold the afghan. "Thanks. For letting us stay here."

Zack shrugs, clicks his tongue. "Yeah well, you guys are… you know."

"Family."

"Yep. That." He heads for his mother's room, voice laced with affection, "really weird, color coded, super powered family."

The door shuts and Trini puts her weight on her feet to stand. Stinging pain shoots up from her toes to her calves and she jerks them off of the carpet with a hiss.

Kim is at her side immediately, afghan and donut box and coffee cup forgotten. "What's wrong?"

Trini closes her eyes and focuses on the hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, tries to ignore the throbbing of her soles in time to her racing heart. "Feet are just a little sore."

She feels Kim shift from the couch to the floor and opens her eyes, watches her push the coffee table away to give herself more space. Kim delicately wraps a hand around one of her ankles and looks up, waiting for permission. Trini lets out a long breath through pursed lips, nods. Kim shifts her foot into her lap, kisses her knee, before carefully pulling the sock down, centimeter by centimeter. Every time it sticks or snags on a patch of particularly raw skin Trini clutches the couch cushions until her knuckles turn white and bites her lip. By the time the sock is off she tastes copper.

Kim tilts her foot up with a guiding hand on her ankle and inspects the sole. "Fuck, Trini." Her voice catches on her name. She lets her forehead fall to Trini's knee. "I'm sorry."

Trini immediately shakes her head. "It's not your fault." The hand on her ankle flexes. "It's not." She runs her fingers through Kim's hair, along her scalp, mimicking the soothing movements that she likes best from her girlfriend. "Please don't feel guilty about last night. I don't blame you. For any of it." Kim nods into her knee, once, and she smiles, "besides, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out."

Kim rests her chin on Trini's knee with a sigh and returns her smile with a smaller one of her own. "I really liked waking up next to you."

Trini's smile turns into a grin. "Me too." She wiggles her toes experimentally, feels them burn as the skin stretches. "I've gotten worse from training." Kim furrows her brow, unconvinced, and Trini tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "They'll be fine by tonight. Super healing, remember?" Super tough skin or super pain tolerance would have been nice, too, but she will take what she can get.

Kim's jaw flexes and Trini knows that she is feeling frustrated, guilty, protective. Knows what she is going to say. "Let me drive you to school?"

Trini's first instinct is to say no, to refuse help; she shakes her head, "I can walk."

Kim presses another kiss to her knee. "I know you can. But you don't have to." She lets the sock drop, forgotten, and shuffles up onto the couch. "Will you let me help you?" They sit pressed together; Trini loves feeling the weight and warmth of Kim against her, is starting to believe that Kim might like it just as much. Their hands, their eyes, find each other's. "Not because you need it. I know you don't need it. But because I love you."

The fingers of Kim's other hand come up to trace the fresh bite marks on her lower lip. Trini kisses them, then leans in and kisses Kim's cheek. If Zack can let her buy groceries and Kim can give up her comfortable bed for a night on the couch then Trini can let her girlfriend give her a ride to school. "Okay. I love you, too."

…

Trini pauses at the bottom of the stairs, backpack slung over her shoulder, and glances at the light streaming out of the kitchen. She can hear the coffee pot percolating, the sharp tap of a mug meeting granite counter, and looks at her watch, bites her sore lip; she has a few minutes until Kim picks her up a block and two turns away. Her father passes by the doorway and she sighs, her anxiety spiking, walks tenderly on stinging feet into the room.

"Morning, Papa. Make enough for two?"

Her father looks up from Angel Grove's thin daily paper, surprised, "Trini." They stare at each other under the harsh white glow of the florescent lights, the coffee pot dripping beside them; her waiting for him to speak, him trying to decide what to say. The distance between them seems to stretch with each silent second. Then he smiles; nothing more than a little tug of his lips, but it reaches his eyes, and Trini feels some of her anxiety dissipate. "Yes. How's school?"

They both move; breaking the stillness. Trini sets her backpack down next to one of the stools and sits. "Good. You can tell mama I've made friends."

Her father grabs her favorite mug from the cabinet; white with a crude painting of her and the twins that they made for her in kindergarten. "You should tell her yourself."

She starts to scoff. Hesitates. Worries her lip. Thinks of Zack's mother; how he would give anything, anything, for more time with her. While Trini's own mother is healthy and here and maybe, maybe, the void that has formed between them is not irreparable. She nods once to herself as he pours sugar and creamer into their mugs. "I will."

"Soccer championships this weekend." He slides her the mug. "Want to watch? Sunday after mass?"

"Sure." She warms her hands on the porcelain, holds in a breath as she waits for him to press the issue of church. She has stepped into Angel Grove's Catholic church three times since they moved here; two Christmases and an Easter, and is reminded of this fact, loudly, every Saturday night at dinner. But he just returns to his paper and they talk teams and players and stats in between sips of steaming coffee. The conversation is completely civil, if superficial, and it feels almost normal; like a shadow of their previous mornings.

Trini watches her father's hands as he complains about a trade and tries to remember the last time that she sat and drank coffee with him. It was before they moved to Angel Grove; she barely knows this kitchen. Before Sarah. Before her mother's 'love the sinner, hate the sin' speech. Would she tell him about Kimberly over coffee in this kitchen one day? The madly-in-love part of her wants to. Wants his acceptance, his happiness for her. She looks at the crucifix around his neck and bites down the words, heavy on her tongue. Not today, but maybe, maybe.

Their conversation drifts to the twins' winter soccer league and her thoughts drift to Billy. Fatherless. Her own father shifts, the morning light catching the grays starting to pepper his hair, and Trini is overcome with the guilt of years of wasted mornings. She stands, suddenly, and with the same recklessness that drove her to jump a cavern, to slam Rita against her wall, hugs her father from the side. "I love you, Papa."

He stiffens against her. Then pats her arm awkwardly. Trini swallows, self-conscious, anxious, and lets him go. He flips a page. Sips. "If you want money I don't have any."

Trini rolls her eyes with a scoff. "I don't want money."

He looks up at that, face etched with familiar disappointment. She knows that look too well. Knows that any progress that she made in mending their relationship has been undone. "You in trouble?" A frustrated sigh. "You didn't get suspended, did you? Your mama's still upset about the Saturday detention thing-"

"No, Papa. I was just saying it to say it."

A pause. "Oh. Okay."

She waits, trying to read him while he reads the paper, desperately wanting him to say it back. Tries to remember what his voice sounds like, what his eyes look like, when he does. Her father sips his coffee.

…

Trini tosses her backpack into the back seat, fastens her seatbelt, and meets Kim over the center console for a quick kiss; the ache in her heart dissipating a little as soon as their lips touch. Their hands slide to the base of each other's necks almost simultaneously as they both hold the other close; lips opening, searching, deepening the kiss. Trini pulls Kim's lower lip between her own, nips, teasing, and Kim sighs a faint whine into her mouth. She breaks the kiss, smiling, a little proud. "School?"

Kim blinks and turns forward, hands finding the steering wheel, dazed. "Yeah... Oh, before I forget..." She reaches behind the passenger seat and pulls out a small bouquet of yellow daffodils.

Trini takes the flowers, surprised and a little uncomfortable; Kim's gifts are always more personal. "When did you have time to get me these?"

Kim shifts into gear, pulls away from the curb. "I didn't. They're from my mom. She would like to formally apologize. And have you over for dinner."

Trini inspects the bouquet, then sets it down in her lap, her stomach knotting at the thought of facing Mrs. Hart again. "When?"

Kim reaches over and finds Trini's hand, gives it a comforting squeeze. "Whenever you're ready."

"Okay." They are both quiet for a few blocks. Trini marvels at how comfortable and welcome the silence is between them, when just a few minutes ago she felt like she and her father were being suffocated by it. She squeezes Kim's fingers. "I had coffee with my dad."

"How did that go?"

"Fine." Trini worries her lip, tastes Kim's lip gloss. Threads their fingers. Separates them. Threads them again. Kim gives her hand an encouraging tug, and she takes a settling breath. "Does your family… How often do you hug your parents?"

Kim barely pauses to think about it. "Most days, I guess. They've always been pretty affectionate."

Trini nods. Goes back to threading their fingers. Traces Kim's palm, her wrist, finds her pulse point and feels her girlfriend's heartbeat. Kim lets her explore, patient, keeps her hand relaxed and pliable. "And you guys say 'I love you?'"

"Yeah." Kim glances at her, concerned, and laces their fingers together again, offering an anchor. "Trini, what happened?"

"Nothing." It comes out defensive and she winces. "Sorry." Her chest still hurts when she thinks of her father's reaction, and she wants to stay silent, to protect herself from any more rejection. But Kim has never made fun of her feelings, has always made her feel validated. Kim is not like her parents, not like Sarah, and Trini trusts her. So she opens up, "I gave my dad a hug and told him I loved him."

"And he hugged you back. Said it back."

Trini tries to remember the last time her parents did either of those things. Christmas, maybe? And before that… has she hugged them in their new house? She swallows around the lump in her throat. "I think my family's a little fucked up." Kim's hand tenses around the steering wheel, the leather creaking under her fingers. Trini barely notices, lost in her thoughts. She pulls her hand away and rests it in her lap, over the flowers. Stares at them without seeing. Tries to remember the last time her parents said 'I love you' to each other. The last time they kissed. Hugged. Held hands. "I'm not clingy, am I?"

Kim jerks the wheel, startling her, and pulls into a dirt alley that runs in between two rows of small shops. She turns off the car, jaw tight. Unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to face her girlfriend. Trini's heartrate accelerates at the flash of anger in Kim's eyes, but she recognizes it as Kim's anger for her; her overprotectiveness of her. "Trini." Kim reaches out and traces her temple, the anger replaced with tender concern. Waits until she looks up and holds her gaze. "You are not clingy." She brings her other hand up and frames Trini's face, palms on her jaw, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "You can hug and kiss me any time you want. I love how physical you are." They both lean in, resting their foreheads together. "And I love you. And I'm going to keep telling you I love you until you're sick of hearing it."

Trini pinches her eyes closed in an effort to hold back stinging tears. "Can you come here?"

She hears the bouquet hit the back seat, feels her seatbelt slide off, and then Kim is straddling her lap, hands coming back up to cup her jaw. Lips brush her cheeks, "I love you," her nose, "I love you," her chin, "I love you." Drag down her neck, over her pulse point.

Trini wraps her hands around the tops of Kim's thighs and crowds their bodies closer, feels her skin flush with soft heat from the tips of her ears to her chest. "Kimberly." It comes out as a whisper, as a whine, and the muscles under her hands tense at the sound. Kim slides her hands into her hair, presses their chests, their hips, together, and lets her lips finally, finally, find Trini's. Kim kisses her slowly, kisses her thoroughly, kisses her with soft lips and gentle teeth and a patient tongue. Their hands explore; tracing firm biceps and toned abs and smooth skin, wandering over denim, under shirts, through belt loops, until their breaths puff against lips in time with their drumming hearts.

Kim releases Trini's lip with a wet pop, scrapes her teeth along her earlobe, and Trini's hips roll. Her hands flex, digging into thigh and shoulder. "I want you, Kim."

"I want you, too." Kim nips at the sensitive skin below her jaw, runs her tongue over the mark. Leans back with a frustrated sigh. "But I don't want our first time to be in my car."

Trini leans forward, chasing her mouth. "Why not?" She smirks. "Our first kiss was in your car. It could be our thing."

Kim bites her bottom lip and groans, hand fisting in Trini's shirt. "Don't tempt me." She takes a steadying breath, holds Trini's gaze, her expression serious. "Are you sure? I don't want to rush you."

Trini nods. "I'm sure. I love you." Their next kiss is a promise, and Trini lets Kim slide off of her lap and back into the driver's seat. "We could skip first period and keep making out."

Kim drops her head onto the steering wheel and groans. "Now you're just being mean." After a few deep breaths she starts the car.

"You like it."

Kim takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "I do."