Chapter Text
She’d had a day
A day so long, so drawn out, it felt like time itself had conspired against her
The kind of day that twists and tangles, like a vine growing in every direction
A round of house to houses followed by torturous firearms training, topped off by three back to back witness interviews
She could feel the weight of the hours as if they were piled up on her shoulders
She was wrecked
Bone-deep exhausted
Every muscle in her body ached, her mind heavy with the kind of fatigue that couldn’t be slept off
All she’d wanted, all she’d needed, was a quiet glass of red in her local
The kind of place where the hum of conversation felt like a soft blanket around her
Just a moment of peace before she headed home
At the precise moment Ryan had poured (well, over-poured, perks of being family) a supposed-to-be medium glass of red and set it down in front of her, he’d walked in
Peter flamin’ Barlow
A ghost from the past that had no right to be there
And just like that, the calm she’d been craving slipped right through her fingers
It shouldn’t have mattered
She’d known he was out there somewhere, eventually bound to turn up
But still, the sight of him—his familiar face, that smile like nothing had ever changed—it struck her like a wave, knocking all her carefully constructed walls into disarray
She’d told herself she wasn’t going to let it bother her
That she was stronger than this
But the pit in her stomach said otherwise
There was something about seeing him again
About how quickly everything felt unsettled, that made her feel off-balance
She didn’t have time for this
Not today, not any day
But here he was
And everything she’d tried to keep steady felt like it was starting to slip
*
She slips through the front door, the soft hum of home greeting her before she’s fully inside
Betsy’s voice, sharp and full of mock indignation, floats down the hall
Even I knew that! How thick d'ya have to be to not know that?
The Chase, always a point of contention
She toes off her boots, the rhythmic thud of her steps punctuating the silence as she hangs up her coat
The house hums with familiar sounds — the rattle of pans, the scrape of utensils against the counter, the steady flow of the tap running in the kitchen
Something smells good
She inhales deeply, but the warmth of it doesn't settle the tightness in her chest
She wishes she could just be here, truly be here, in this moment, but her mind lingers elsewhere
Oh hi Swainy
Betsy’s voice calls out, teasing
Delightful of you to join us
Lisa lifts an eyebrow, a wry smile pulling at the corners of her lips
It’s not even six - what’re you on about?
Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically, the gesture as familiar as her sarcasm
You said you’d be home earlier today. You know, to help me with that application thing?
Lisa palms her forehead, guilt washing over her
Love, I’m so sorry—I completely—
Betsy cuts her off, her voice light but tinged with a hint of frustration
Forgot, I gathered, don’t worry, your missus helped me instead
Lisa nods gratefully
Carla appears in the doorway, tea towel slung over one shoulder, warmth already softening her features
Hi, darling
She steps into Lisa’s space like it’s second nature
Arms sliding around her waist, foreheads brushing, a kiss pressed to her lips like punctuation
Oh my god, gross
Betsy groans from the sofa, dramatically upping the TV volume with the remote
Lisa huffs a laugh against Carla’s cheek
Erm, x’cuse you, we’re in love, didn’t ya know?
Carla calls over, grinning
Another kiss — slower this time, just because — before Carla pulls away, already drifting back toward the stove
Dinner’s nearly done
She says over her shoulder
Lisa follows the smell
Something rich, comforting
Her stomach makes a low, hopeful sound
Smells unreal, she murmurs, glass of red?
Carla glances back, nodding
Read my mind, love, ta
*
Plates clatter gently
Bread is passed hand to hand, butter smeared without grace, and the scrape of forks fills the quiet between conversation
This is so good
Betsy says, sitting back in her chair with all the flair of a food critic
Like, actually good
Carla freezes mid-bite
Did you just—did you just compliment my cooking?
Betsy shrugs, eyes dancing
Miracles do happen
Lisa smirks into her glass, watching the exchange with quiet amusement
But, don’t get too carried away like
Betsy adds quickly
It’s probably just a fluke
Carla lets out an exaggerated gasp, clutching at her chest
Unbelievable. I pour my heart into one lasagne and this is what I get?
Lisa leans over, bumping her shoulder
It is good, love, really, just unexpected
Carla narrows her eyes
Why are you pair acting like I usually serve burnt toast and flamin’ regret?
Lisa grins, looking over at Betsy
Should we remind her about the stir fry incident or let her enjoy the moment?
Betsy grins back
Let her have it, she’s still holding her knife
Carla brandishes it with a flourish, playful
Exactly. Wise choice.
Betsy grabs her phone
Lisa opens her mouth, ready to say something about phones at the table — but is met with a raised index finger and a pointed look
I’m just checking the date of something, one sec
She scrolls with purpose, thumbs moving fast
Then she brightens, tapping the screen
Oh yeah — this Saturday. There’s an open day I wanna go to
She shoves the phone across the table, Lisa leaning in to squint at the details
That should work
Lisa nods
What time’s it start?
Betsy checks
Like midday onwards or summat
Lisa shifts slightly, glancing over to Carla now — a gentle check-in, just to be sure
That work ok for you, love?
Carla’s fork slows against the plate
She doesn’t look up at first, just traces the rim of her dish with her thumb before answering
Well, it’s Ken’s birthday, so I thought I’d drop by, show my face — think it kicks off at 1
Silence falls, sudden and sharp
Lisa stills — not completely, just enough that Carla notices
Her jaw tightens, one shoulder ticks slightly higher than the other
Then — clipped, colder than before —
Ah. That’ll be why Peter’s back then
Carla’s head turns fast, eyes locking on Lisa
But Lisa’s already staring dead ahead, not meeting her gaze
Betsy groans, dramatic and theatrical
Wow, y’know what? This feels like a great time for me to leave
She scrapes her chair back, grabs her plate in one fluid motion
No, Bets — you’re fine
Carla says quickly, a little too quickly
Still trying to catch the thread of something that’s already unraveling
Nah, honestly, I’m good, ta
Betsy says with a small shrug, breezing past
Good luck with the wrath of Swainy
She taps Carla’s shoulder once — half fond, half mocking — and disappears up the stairs without waiting for a response
The silence settles thick between them
Lisa’s still facing forward, like if she stays still long enough, Carla might just say what she needs her to say
But nothing comes at first
Just the quiet hum of the fridge and the tap of cutlery against porcelain
Storms brewing behind green and grey
Lisa willing herself to be more okay with this than she actually is
Carla bristling with that quiet defiance — the kind that says “I don’t need permission”
It’s just a brew and a bit of cake, love
Carla tries casual
Shrugs it off like it’s nothing
Keeps it light in the way people do when they’re hoping the other person doesn’t look too closely
Lisa lets out a scoff, dry, pointed
Who invited you?
Carla falters — a blink, a beat too long — wasn’t expecting that one
Well, Peter, he’s organising it — just a little surprise thing for Ken
Lisa’s spine straightens, subtle but sharp
A shift that says message received
Sounds cosy
Carla sighs — the long kind
The kind that’s been building since the first tension in the air
Darlin', Ken’s always been good to me — even when things were messy with Peter. I care about him, I wanna go. It’s got nowt to do with flamin’ Peter
Lisa presses her lips together, drops her fork with a soft clink
Suddenly doesn’t fancy the rest of her dinner
So you knew he was coming back, then?
Her voice stays steady — almost too steady
Would’ve been nice to have a heads up. I’ve just seen him in the Rovers
Carla rubs her face, tired now
He literally messaged me this morning — you can look at my phone if you want
Lisa’s head snaps up
That lands wrong
They’re not that couple — never have been
She takes a breath, slow and deliberate
I don’t need to check your phone
A softer sigh
I trust you. It’s just, something about it feels weird, off
Carla nods, reaches across the table
Lets her hand rest gently over Lisa’s
Feels that flicker of relief when it’s not pushed away
I wanna get this right — what feels off?
Lisa looks down at their hands
Shakes her head, lips twitching like she wants to say isn’t it bloody obvious?
But she doesn’t
Doesn’t want to turn this into a row
Instead, just mutters — quieter than before
You, over there, playing happy families
Carla shifts, just slightly, the kind of lean-in that says I’m still here
Her voice is quieter now, less sure of itself than usual, like she knows she’s treading on something tender
They’re not my family, Lis’
She lets the words settle before continuing
Not even close, not anymore — all of thisher hand moves, sweeping gently through the air to gesture around them, this is my family, baby, you and Betsy, that’s it for me — I’ve got no interest in anything outside of that
Lisa wants to believe her
Wants to let the truth of it sink in and anchor her the way it used to
But something keeps floating up — something tight in her chest that hasn’t let go since seeing him
Still, she feels a little crack open somewhere inside
Just a brew and a bit of cake?
Her voice is smaller than she means it to be
Carla smiles at that, warm and steady
Yes, I promise
She threads her fingers more tightly through Lisa’s
Lisa nods
But she doesn’t ask what happens after the cake’s gone
Doesn’t say how much it rattles her, knowing Peter’s back — in the places that belong to them now
It’s too much, the thought of sharing space with someone who once held a piece of Carla
So she doesn’t say any of it
Just lifts Carla’s hand to her mouth and presses a kiss against her knuckles
Something soft, something grounding
Something to say I’m trying
Even if she’s not quite sure what she’s trying for yet
*
Legs bracketed either side of Lisa’s hips
Hands fisting into the headboard, knuckles pale against soft wood
Breaths uneven, shallow, mindful — the house isn’t empty
Carla’s rocking against her, hips chasing something just out of reach
A flicker of heat, a sting of pressure, something
She hisses through her teeth
God, please
Barely audible, mouth brushing lips as she speaks
Lisa’s palms a trail slowly up the backs of her thighs
Thumbs grazing the crease where softness gives way to want
So close
But not quite there
Not yet
A little worked up, baby?
Unmistakable smirk in place
Carla tips her head back, eyes screwed shut
Y’know I am
Lisa hums, tongue skating over flushed skin
Teeth nipping at the swell of her chest
A sting met with a gasp
Fingers skating higher over Carla’s back
Holding her steady, holding her here
Don’t make me ask again
And maybe Lisa is being cruel tonight
But she doesn’t say it
Doesn’t admit this is less about pleasure and more about leaving a mark
A reminder
For Carla, and for anyone else who dares look too long
She thinks of Peter
The familiarity of him, the shared history
She hates that it gets to her
Hates even more that it shows
But she lets that energy live here, just for now
Lets it shape the pace, the pressure, the way her hands map every inch of Carla’s body like a claim
And what if I do?
Lisa murmurs, lips brushing her ear
Make you ask again, I mean
Carla’s laugh is sharp, low
She lifts her head, meets her eyes
Then I’ll just take care of myself
Lisa scoffs, playful and daring
Carla rocks her hips forward, deliberate
She exhales
Fingertips slip between them, slow and searching
Drawing patterns, teasing edges
Carla opens for her, knees shifting, breath hitching
She’s right there — poised — when Lisa stills her with a palm to the chest
The pressure is firm, a quiet command to wait
Lisa's breath quickens, heat building low in her belly
She wants to stretch this, make Carla ache a little longer
Carla swears softly, the sound pulling at Lisa’s grip
Lisa moans — louder than she should — drowning in anticipation
Because it’s the waiting she loves
The slow, torturous delight of filling Carla up
Tension that builds like a held breath
The stretch, the ache, the way Carla looks at her like she’s the only thing she’ll ever need
And Lisa, god
She always gives in eventually
But never without a fight
Never without making sure she’s felt, known, remembered
Carla’s fingers close around Lisa’s wrist
Guiding her, slow but sure
The pressure steady, deliberate
She shifts again — hips rolling forward — and Lisa meets her there
Their breaths tangling, matching pace
Fingers pressing, heat encasing
And it’s everything
But Lisa’s jaw is tight
Shoulders tense
Her rhythm steady but rigid
Controlled in a way Carla recognises
In a way that isn’t just about pleasure
Carla stills
Not stopping
Just holding
Lisa meets her eyes — something flickering there
A flash of distraction, of something darker
Carla tilts her head, eyes searching
You with me?
Her voice low
Lisa doesn’t answer straight away
Can’t
She’s too busy trying to swallow the thought
Of Peter
Of what it means that he’s back
Of all the things she hasn’t said out loud
Carla blinks once, then again
Oh
Her voice a whisper
So that’s what this is
Lisa exhales — sharp
I’m fine
But she isn’t
Not really
Carla doesn’t pull away
Doesn’t push either Instead, she shifts forward, pressing their foreheads together
Hey, you don’t have to fight for this
Her breath warm against Lisa’s cheek
You already have me
It undoes her
Completely
Lisa squeezes her eyes shut Lets the words sink in
The truth of them
Lets go, just enough
Her fingers adjust, angle changing
The movement purposeful now
Not to claim — but to connect
To show her
Carla gasps
Her body opening for her again
Gripping tight
Lisa kisses her
Desperate
Mouths crashing, tongues tasting salt and breath and promise
She moves with more urgency now
Not from jealousy
But from want
From need
Carla’s hands claw at her shoulders
Her hips frantic, wild Lisa meets her again and again
Breathless
Carla breaks the kiss to whisper her name
Over and over
Like a prayer, or a promise
Lisa
Lisa
Lisa
Lisa holds her tighter
Keeps her here
Anchored
Their eyes meet again — raw, wide open
And Lisa sees it
All of it
The heat
The history
The love
Peter’s ghost is gone
Nothing left but this
Gonna come baby, fuck, I'm gonna --
And when Carla finally breaks apart in her arms
Lisa holds on through it
Mouth at her throat
Fingers pumping
Taking her higher, even as she falls
Until the only sound left is breathing
And the creak of cooling floorboards
And the heavy, devastating truth of this, of them
*
Their breathing slows, the silence stretching warm and close around them
Carla’s still draped across Lisa, her limbs loose now, pliant
She lets her forehead rest against Lisa’s collarbone
Lips ghosting over skin like she’s trying to commit it to memory
Lisa keeps a hand at the small of her back
The other drifting through Carla’s hair, gentle, absent-minded
Neither of them says anything for a beat
You alright?
Carla’s voice is soft
Not worried exactly—just tuned in
Lisa nods, slow
Yeah
Carla doesn’t move, but her fingers press lightly against Lisa’s ribs
A subtle nudge
A silent go on
Lisa exhales
Seeing him earlier, just totally threw me off
Carla stills
Her breath catches, but only for a second
Then she nods
Understandably love
There’s no tension in her voice
No panic
Just a quiet knowing
Lisa shifts a little, not pulling away—just readjusting
Trying to find something steady to anchor to
I know you said there’s nothing to worry about - and I believe you, I do, she pauses, it’s just -
She trails off
Carla lifts her head, finally meeting her eyes
She doesn’t speak
Just waits
Lisa reaches up, fingers brushing lightly across Carla’s cheek
It’s stupid
Carla arches an eyebrow
Is it?
There’s no judgment in the question
No edge
Only that soft, familiar pull that always seems to coax the truth from her
Lisa smiles, small
I trust you, course I do
Carla tilts her head
Then what?
Lisa shrugs
History, maybe. The parts of you I wasn’t there for
A beat
Struggling with the reminder that you’ve loved others before me
Carla snorts softly
Well, I lived a lot of life before you darlin'
She says, her thumb brushing along Lisa’s jaw
But it’s never felt like this
Lisa softens Her chest aches in that way it always does around Carla—tight and full and terrifyingly exposed
You don’t have to say the right thing
She says quietly
I’m not
Carla replies
I’m saying the real thing
She nestles closer, her hand resting just above Lisa’s heart
Feeling it beat out something frantic beneath her palm
Lisa kisses the top of her head
Lets the silence come back
Lets it feel like safety instead of avoidance
Because right now, with Carla’s body flush against hers
Her breath evening out
Her fingers tracing lazy shapes across Lisa’s skin
She’s here
She’s really here
And Lisa decides that that’s more than enough, for now