Valentine's Day Dream (Dorsie)

She was pleasantly aware of a fluttering kiss that pressed onto her nape and was just as swiftly gone. Her body tingled in response to the contact, and she continued to pretend that she was still fast asleep.

“Dorsetshire,” the voice breathed huskily into her ear. She suppressed a hitched breath and the game of possum carried on, though not for long if he carried on with such an assault.

“If you don’t wake up, you won’t get your Valentine’s gift,” he murmured, trailing a hand down her bare back. Another fleeting kiss, this time further down, on her left shoulder blade. Still, Dorsetshire kept up the charade.

“If you don’t wake up, I’ll carry on down,” Ian teased.

Please do, she thought dreamily.

“I’ll carry on down…” he continued, lowering his hand to the flesh of her buttocks, “and I won’t…”

A gentle squeeze. Dorsetshire felt her heart flutter.

“Stop.”

His fingers traced the contour of her rear, arcing around to draw tantalisingly close to the building heat in between her legs.

“Until—”

“MORNING MUMMY AND DADDY!”

The voice shocked her into waking and she squeaked in surprise and not a little frustration as a young girl burst through the door to their bedroom. She wore a set of frilly blue pyjamas, her short blonde hair a bedraggled mess, but never without her somehow immaculately pristine pink bow.

“Paz!” Dorsetshire shrieked in surprise as the young girl cannoned into them, wrapping her arms around her parents even as she drove them down onto their bed in a pile of tangled limbs.

“Why are you naked?” Paz wondered, looking up at her red-headed mother with inquiring and entirely innocent eyes of the purest blue that Dorsetshire had ever seen. Indeed, the word seemed to encapsulate her daughter’s personality perfectly.

Pure.

Right now, however, no answer that Dorsetshire could possibly dream up in her current position would do anything other than stain that purity.

Thankfully, Ian had kept a cool head, even as he regarded Dorsetshire’s flustered expression with no small amount of amusement.

“We were just about to take a bath together, Paz.”

The girl paused, considering, and then beamed up at her parents, “Then I’ll join you! Come on, come on!” she urged, hopping off the bed and tugging at their arms.
***
One quick bath later and their little family was sat at the table as Dorsetshire finished serving up three plates of bacon, eggs and toast. Paz immediately tucked into her own food, while Ian gave his wife a grateful peck on the cheek before starting on his own. The redheaded cruiser-girl sat down in between the pair of them and took a breath. The day had barely begun, and yet she felt curiously at peace.

No, not at peace.

Happy.

Yes, that was it.

This warm, uplifting feeling in her body that made her feel like she was floating on clouds all the time, like nothing could ever bring her down.

Then she looked at the clock hanging over the entranceway to the dining room, and her blood froze.

“Paz!” Dorsetshire cried, shooting up and knocking her chair over in her rush, “You’re going to be late for school!”

“Really?” Paz craned her head to follow her mother’s gaze and froze, mouth agape. A chunk of egg dropped from her mouth and onto the sparkling white floor tiles. The *splotch* it made when it landed spurred the young girl into action.

“Oh, no!” she wailed, “Not on my first day! I’m going to miss Hoel and Anna!”

And then, as if on cue, there was a series of rapid-fire knocks on the front door, followed by a booming American voice which could only be—

“Paz! C’mon, yer ass is late!”

Hoel…

“H-Hoel, don’t be so rough! This is their home,” whined another American girl—Anna—if memory served. Secretly, Dorsetshire preferred the much more demure redhead to her more boisterous friend, but she would never even consider denying her friendship with Paz. Loud and irreverent she might be at times, but Hoel was also a fiercely loyal friend, and Dorsetshire had noticed Paz’s own confidence grow immeasurably in the time since the two had first met.

Still, it wouldn’t do to let her know she thought any of this.

She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“Don’t forget your packed lunch, dear!” Dorsetshire called as Paz rocketed down the stairs towards the front door, screeching to a halt as her mother’s warning finally registered. She nipped into the kitchen, snatched up the adorably pink lunchbox and hugged her parents goodbye before racing back to the front door and throwing it open to greet her friends.

“Took you long enough,” Dorsetshire heard Hoel mutter.

“Did you sleep in, Paz? It’s not like you to be late,” Anna wondered in agreement.

“Eheh, I guess I just lost track of the time today,” Paz answered sheepishly.

“What, your parents too busy making out to do breakfast or some shit?”

“Hoel,” Dorsetshire tutted sternly, poking her head around the corner, “Please, none of that language in this household, thank you very much.”

“Sorry Misses D.,” Hoel said in a way that told her she was decidedly /not/ sorry. Dorsetshire frowned, but didn’t press it.

“Now run along you three, it wouldn’t do to be late for your first day of High School.”

“She’s right, Hoel, we’re already pushing it for time as is, now let’s go!” Anna fretted.

“Yeah, come on, guys, I’ll race you both there! Last one there buys us ice cream on the way home,” Paz said, already starting off.

“Oooh, big mistake there, Pazzy,” said Hoel, and Dorsetshire could /hear/ the grin no doubt splitting the girls’ face, “I’m faster than both of you slowcoaches! I’m going to ask for three scoops of vanilla and a wafer today!”

And then they were off, three shrieking, chatting, and laughing young girls in the prime of their youth. Dorsetshire wondered what sights they would see today; what sounds they would hear; what lessons they might learn.

“She’s a good girl,” Ian observed as he pulled Dorsetshire close to him, wrapping his arms around her stomach protectively. Dorsetshire hummed and leaned her head back into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes and just enjoying the closeness she shared with her husband.

“She is,” she agreed.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Ian continued. “I know you worry, but at some stage, you will have to let her go.”

“She’s only sixteen,” Dorsetshire said, stifling a chuckle. “The day she flies the nest is a long day off yet.”

“No,” Ian said sadly, “that’s not what I meant.” He released her and gently spun her around to face him. For some reason, his features seemed… indistinct, like they were blurred. Dorsetshire rubbed at her eyes, assuming she was still a little tired. When she finished, however, his face was just as blurred as it had been earlier. Only his eyes—shining, cerulean blue—were as clear as she remembered, and they were heavy with sorrow.

“You’re going to have to let go someday, my love,” he whispered, drawing her into his arms, stroking her hair with a hand. “You can only live this day so many times.”

She was about to ask what he meant, but suddenly found her chest was tight, and speaking was impossible. A tear forced its way out of the corner of her eye, and why did her chest suddenly pain her so?

“I love you, Dorsetshire,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead. “Never forget that. But I can’t always be the anchor that chains you down.”

She wanted to respond, but all that came out were half-choked sobs. Her heart felt like it was rending itself apart. Why was this happening? She had everything she ever wanted. She had a loving family. She was happy. She was—

“Wake up, love.”
***
Dorsetshire awoke with a start, sitting into an upright position and blinking as sleep reluctantly detached its deceptively tender claws from her. She had the faintest impression that there was something important about today, something that she was forgetting.

Blearily, she turned her eyes to the clock atop her chest of drawers.

14/02…

It took her an embarrassing amount of moments before the realisation struck.

“Oh, silly me,” she murmured, still drowsy. Yawning, she took stock of her room. Norfolk was laid out scarcely two feet away, clad in only a black tank top and her underwear, a hand resting on her exposed stomach. Dorsetshire suppressed a sigh at her sister’s poor sleeping habits, and winced at the simply dreadful noise she made as she snored. She loved her sister, and was ever so thankful that she was… well, herself again, but she very, /very/ almost missed the days before her operation when she didn’t snore.

Then, latched onto her side, was Paz. Her angel. The Supercarrier-cum-spectre-cum-shipgirl. The girl she had brought into being.

Almost like a real mother.

Her lips quirked at the thought.

She yawned again and stretched her arms out, hearing Paz mumble and shift at the movement. She glanced at the clock again. It was still early, she could probably spare a few more minutes.

Lying back down, she pulled her sheets over the two of them and gently shifted the young blonde supercarrier closer. Paz groaned in her sleep and shifted some more, finally resting her head on Dorsetshire’s ample bosom, who closed her eyes and felt the lull of sleep tug at her.

Just five more minutes.

Then she’d work out what on earth she was going to do for Valentines.