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Gideon loved her wife. There was no small, dark, goth woman that she could ever love more in all the world.
This was an immutable fact. The sun was hot, the universe was an ever-expanding entity of unknowable magnitude.
And Gideon Nav loved Harrowhark Nonagesimus. (It had taken an act of God to get her not to hyphenate her name when they got married. 'Your name is long enough as it is!' )
There were, however, days when Gideon's love and patience were tested by her dark and diminutive partner. Not in terrible, divorce, ways.
Just… Harrow ways.
Which, really, she should have seen coming from day one. The fact that Harrow was so goddamn weird was admittedly, one of the things that had initially drawn Gideon to her. Harrow did whatever she wanted without giving a damn about what most other people thought.
This however also extended into ways Gideon hadn’t expected. Which often included running commentary on her skeleton…
The hazards of marrying a paleoanthropologist had slowly crept in on Gideon. It was subtle at first. Now that she thought about it, Harrow perhaps hadn't been comfortable enough with her back then. It took her a very long time for her to warm to people.
It hadn't really started till they'd been dating a little while. Harrow had started making little comments about her bone structure being good. Strong mandible, thick femurs - which she was almost positive was her wife’s version of an innuendo - sturdy clavicle, etc.
As far as compliments went, she wished Harrow paid more attention to all the hard cut muscle mass she worked so hard to cultivate. Not that her biceps didn't get attention. Just not as much as she wished.
Gideon knew Harrow loved bones. Hell, anyone they came into contact with for more than five minutes knew that. Even in the company of others she'd make a comment on the set of Gideon’s brows or the slope of her frontal bone.
She just shrugged at their looks.
She didn't become fully cognizant of how far this little facet of her wife's personality went.
Not till Gideon had been in the process of trying to use Harrow's thighs as a pair of earmuffs and Harrow's hands had been sliding through her hair when they'd suddenly stopped and very acutely started prodding along a certain place at the back of Gideon's head.
"You have a healed skull fracture at the apex of your occipital bone,” she said suddenly and that made Gideon look up from what she had been doing.
She stared back at Harrow, blinking for a long moment. "What?" she finally said.
"I don't think it healed correctly, likely you have brain damage… which explains some things…"
Nothing had ever killed a mood so fast and Gideon had to ban all bone talk from their bedroom. Which Harrow protested and really killed some of her best jokes but it was a necessary evil.
Her observations just moved to the rest of their lives.
She'd walk around in shorts and a tank top and it was a fifty/fifty guess if Harrow was checking her out or examining her. Though given her wife's deep love of osseous matter, the two sort of blended together, indistinguishable from each other even at the best of times.
Harrow was also about as subtle as a flying brick to the face, god love her. She thought she was being quite sneaky about her examinations. In bed, in the shower, just walking up behind Gideon in the kitchen and running her hands over her arms.
She'd admit, more often than not, this one got her cause Harrow was at least, paying attention to her muscles.
Was it a ruse for examining Gideon's ulna, radius, and humerus? Of course, but she also heaped praise on the impressive muscle mass there.
So, Gideon let those slide.
Somedays, she didn't even attempt to be subtle, which honestly, she preferred to Harrow's lackluster attempts at subterfuge.
Like now.
There was sweat dripping down her face onto the mat as she struggled through the last few push ups of her workout.
Above her, sitting cross-legged atop her back, Harrow ran her hands over the taut lines between her shoulder blades and around her neck. It was supremely distracting and caused all the wrong kinds of burning but she considered ignoring it part of the challenge.
"318…319… 320." She held it for a half second before she let herself fall to the mat and Harrow yelped as she was jostled.
"A remarkable endurance for all the strain you put on your scapula…," she mumbled to herself after resituating herself at the base of Gideon’s hips. The redhead grunted, catching her breath beneath her wife.
Not for the first time , she thought and mentally high-fived herself
"You just like me for my bones," Gideon huffed and Harrow scoffed right back.
"If you are implying that I married you because you have a nearly textbook perfect skeletal structure, then you may have more brain damage than I suspected…" She prodded testingly at the back of Gideon's head pointedly.
"Not just them but what I can do with them…" She turned her head just enough to glean a look at Harrow over her shoulder and wag her brows suggestively. She heard the sigh and knew the eye roll was there without seeing it. "Now can I go take a shower or are you not done feeling up my skeleton yet?" she asked and Harrow wordlessly climbed off her back. She hopped up and stretched off the delicious burning in her muscles. Her arms felt like noodles. Harrow watched.
"...Are you still accompanying me this evening?"
Gideon looked over to where Harrow was now leaning against her seldomly used treadmill in their home gym and looking at her with barely concealed trepidation. She hadn't put her makeup on yet and without the thick covering of powders, shadows, and liners to help conceal her expressions, her wife's face was as easy to read as a large print children's book.
At least for Gideon.
"Don't you worry, my dark mistress. Your guardian idiot will be there," she said, wiping the sweat off her brow. Harrow frowned at that, brows furrowed.
"You are not an idiot…"
"Was it not you just implying I had excessive brain damage?" She cocked an accusing brow at her and Harrow had the good decency to look somewhat abashed.
"You know I don't think you're an idiot, beloved…" Harrow mumbled and Gideon’s heart gave a double tap within the confines of her ribcage. No matter how many times she’d heard it over six years of marriage, 'beloved' would always send a tingling up her spine. She took one long step to stand in front of her tiny spouse.
"I know… but we both know I'm going to be the stupidest person at this party," she grinned and Harrow's mouth twisted up like she wanted to argue. "Don't tell me I won't be. I'd be disappointed in your institute if I wasn't the stupidest person in a room full of scientists and doctors." She grinned and Harrow's lips twitched up. "I'm just there to look good on your arm, Dr. Nonagesimus." She swiped back the damp strands of red hair from her face and grinned.
"You're good for much more than just that…" Harrow rose up on her toes to press a chaste kiss to Gideon's mouth. "Now go take a shower, you smell." She sidestepped Gideon and walked out into the hall.
"You like my smell, don't even, Harrow!"
~ ~
The outside of the museum was lit up brighter than Gideon could ever remember seeing before as they climbed the steps up to the doors. Harrow's heels clicked loud and sharp with her every step as they approached. Warning shots.
She fiddled with the dark green tie as they walked, she never could get the damn thing to lay right, and was a hair's breadth from ripping it off her neck, knowing full well Harrow would have a conniption if she did. She grumbled and attempted to right it.
Suddenly, Harrow stopped and spun around, the black fabric of her dress swished about her calves as she glared up at Gideon, pretty in the off the shoulder gown even when glaring.
"Stop that before you choke yourself to death," she mumbled, reaching out to adjust the tie to lay smooth and flat against Gideon's throat.
"Isn't that what they're meant for?" she grumbled and Harrow rolled her eyes, smoothing her hands over the matching emerald green vest over a white dress shirt and straightened the jacket.
"No… but you look very handsome.” Gideon couldn’t help but preen at that. “Green always brings out the vibrancy of your hair and eyes." Her gaze flickered up and down Gideon's form before standing back. "Now hurry or we're going to be late.” She whipped back around and hurried into the building with Gideon trailing along behind her.
The rarely used ballroom housed within The Canaan Museum of Science and History was bursting with people and noise. All things Harrow despised and she could see as much in the rigid set of her shoulders as they walked in. Gideon reached down and gave her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. She'd long embraced her role as her wife's security blanket in social situations. She had a knack for drawing attention to herself, through sheer force of will, charisma, or just size. Which took it off Harrow…. who would deny it all vehemently.
The sharp lines of her form seemed to untense into just their usual rigidity at the squeeze. She looked around at all the dressed-up people and fancy decorations. The last party she'd had at work had included 25 screaming freshmen and the miniature Christmas tree in her room getting knocked down when a kid attempted to climb it. She was impressed with whoever was playing piano on the other side of the room but it was mostly being drowned out by the low din of chatter everywhere.
“Do we have, like, assigned seats somewhere or…?” Gideon asked, looking around and Harrow grunted.
“Somewhere…” She nodded, wrapping an arm around Gideon’s - for once - sleeved elbow and Gideon was sure she felt a soft squeeze.
“Stop molesting my bones," she chuckled and nudged Harrow with her hip.
“I’m not!” she hissed back, a little red-faced as they moved through the crowd, glancing at the name cards on the table.
“What was this for again?” Gideon asked, looking around at everything and everyone.
“It's a charity event for the children’s hospital. Every seat was 500 dollars a piece and they're auctioning off some less coveted pieces from the archives,” she informed her, and Gideon’s eyes bulged.
“Did we pay 1000 dollars to come to this dinner!?” she hissed into Harrow’s ear.
“No, we did not. My invitation and plus 1 were paid for by the committee,” Harrow huffed at her and Gideon relaxed somewhat. Sure, they both did well enough, but 1000 dollars!?
“Why?”
“I donated a perfectly preserved fossil of a mandible I excavated in Tunisia to the auction.”
“That jawbone rock that used to sit in glass on your desk?” Gideon asked, frowning as Harrow nodded. “Why, you loved that thing?”
“Perhaps, but I’ve gotten all I can from it for research purposes, and simply takes up space now.” She shrugged but Gideon knew better. Harrow could fool everyone else but she couldn’t fool her wife.
“uh-huh. I wonder what people would think if they knew you were actually such a soft touch deep…. DEEP down.” she grinned and Harrow glared at her. “Especially for kids…”
“Like you have any room to talk,” rumbled out under her breath.
“Yeah, but I don’t pretend I don’t. ” She smiled. “That’s why I teach for a living…”
“Shut up. These are our seats.” She pulled them to a stop at a table near the middle of the room by the dance floor with eight chairs. Two of which were already occupied by a woman and a man.
“Harrowhark!” the woman smiled and the man stood at their approach, smiling brightly at Harrow from behind her glasses. “I’m so glad you decided to come tonight. You remember my husband, Magnus.” She gestured to the man at her side in a dark brown suit with curly brown hair. He smiled and waved a hand.
“I had a change of heart, Dr. Pent. Good evening to you as well Mr. Quinn.” She nodded in greeting and sat in the chair with her name and Gideon slid into the spot marked ‘Dr. Nonagesimus Guest.’ The identified ‘Dr. Pent’ gave Harrow a tired look and Harrow adjusted herself in the seat. “Abigail…” she corrected and the spectacled woman smiled.
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Gideon asked her in awe and Abigail chuckled while Harrow shot her a look before turning back to Abigail.
“Abigail, Magnus, this is my wife, Gideon Nav.”
“Hey,” Gideon exchanged handshakes with both.
“A pleasure to meet you! I didn’t know you were married, Harrow.” Abigail looked at the younger woman as did Gideon.
“Wow…” Gideon drawled flatly, hoping it hid the little hitch in her feelings that caused. Harrow glanced over at her and frowned. Evidently, it did not because a hand laid over her knee beneath the table and squeezed.
“I simply don’t talk about my personal life at work,” she said.
“There is a picture of you on her desk though, now that I think about it. I just didn’t know who you were and had never thought to ask,” Abigail said, seeming to sense the brief moment of tension her statement had caused.
“You don’t wear your ring at work?” Gideon glanced over and her left hand and the silver and obsidian ring was sitting there in plain sight.
“Not usually. Some of the chemicals I work with on a daily basis will quickly erode such a soft stone as obsidian just from air exposure so I keep it in my desk.”
“Ah, yes, Abigail does the same. I bought some of those silicone ring bands for her to wear in the lab instead,” Magnus piped up and that did make Gideon feel better. She also felt a little silly for the knee-jerk reaction.
Harrow was nothing if not a creature of sensibility and practicality. If wearing her ring at work would damage it, she just wouldn’t and think nothing more of it. The greatest danger Gideon faced was sidestepping questions about her spouse when students realized she was married.
They chatted with Abigail and Magnus for a bit and Gideon decided she liked them both a lot. So when Magnus extended a dinner invitation for the next weekend, Gideon jumped on it. After a quick glance at Harrow, who jerked her head in a nod of acquiescence.
“Excellent, I’m going to start planning the menu!” Magnus beamed. "Do you like steak, Gideon?"
"If I ever say no, assume I'm an imposter." They both laughed while Harrow rolled her eyes and Abigail smiled fondly at her husband.
“Good evening, Dr. Nonagesimus, Dr. Pent”
A tall lanky man in glasses and a gray suit approached the table, a woman in tow behind him with a dark, angular cut bob of hair and wearing a business suit of the same cold gray.
“Dr. Sextus,” Harrow nodded and before Gideon could even open her mouth, Harrow was pinching her thigh in warning.
"Killjoy," she mumbled as the man, Palamedes Sextus, introduced himself and his guest, Camilla Hect to them.
"Your friend, Harrowhark?" Pal asked, smiling at Gideon and holding out his hand.
"Wife, actually, Gideon Nav," she introduced herself and watched Sexpal's - as she'd decided to call him - eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as he glanced back and forth between her and Harrowhark.
She couldn't blame him. She knew that look. They were literally day and night. She was the brawn to Harrow's brain, and all that good stuff. Gideon firmly believed that was why they worked so well. They filled each other out.
"The love of my life and spouse of six years does not see fit to acknowledge my existence here at work apparently, so you've probably never heard of me," she grinned and Harrow sputtered around the water glass she'd raised to her lips and Gideon could see the tips of her ears turning red. Magnus was chuckling quietly and Abigail politely hid her smile behind her glass.
"I just explained to you that I do not talk about our personal life at work!" Harrow hissed at her.
"A pleasure to meet you, Gideon." Palamedes nodded then looked at Harrow with a grin twitching at his lips. "I take it then that Ianthe also doesn't know you are married…?" He cocked a brow, eyes like clear water peered at her and Harrow sneered, setting her glass down on the table, making a sharp clinking sound.
"I especially do not share any of my life's personal details with Tridentarius. It should be enough that I have turned her down… countless times...," she snapped and Camilla narrowed her eyes as Pal held up his hands in surrender.
"I agree, but we both know that's not the case." He frowned and sat back in his chair. Gideon frowned at that, eyes narrowing at Pal before turning to Harrow.
"Who the hell is 'Ianthe'?" Gideon frowned and Harrow scowled.
"Ianthe Tridentarius. She's one of the coheads of acquisitions from the museum…. And based on what I've seen…" Abigail trailed off uncertainly.
"She's got a thing for Harrow," Pal finished, steepling his fingers in front of him
Gideon bristled at that.
"I have consistently ignored her brazen come ons and invitations. I highly suspect that even if I said I was happily married it would not deter her," Harrow grumbled, looking more than annoyed at the idea of this woman. Gideon's brain however noted the word 'happily' and that did a lot to soothe some of her aggravation. It was still smoldering in the back of her mind though. She was content to try and forget all about it until a pair of blondes strolled up to the table.
"Here they come…," Pal mumbled behind his own water glass and Harrow hunched as Gideon glanced over her shoulder.
Twins, both tall, blonde, and dressed impeccably, but where one seemed bright and robust, the other was waxen and thin. A deflated copy.
"Good evening all!" The robust twin smiled brightly and seemed to glow as she stopped at one of the two remaining empty chairs. Gideon surreptitiously strained her neck to glance at the card.
' Coronabeth Tridentarius .'
So the other one was most likely…
"Don't you all look cozy over here…," the other drawled lazily, beady little violet eyes roving around the table. They seemed to hesitate on Gideon before locking on Harrow with razor sharpness.
"Good evening, Corona, Ianthe. Naberius won't be joining you tonight?" Abigail asked and Ianthe just waved her fingers.
"He's over at another table," she seemed wholly unconcerned as she slid into her seat next to Harrow, looking downright predatory.
"Nevermind, Babs though! I've met the charming Mr. Quinn and lovely Ms. Hect before but I'm afraid we have yet to be acquainted and I'm absolutely certain I would remember you otherwise." Those bright violet eyes turned to Gideon and smiled. "I'm Coronabeth Tridentarius, Corona." She wiggled her fingers from her place on the far side of Ianthe.
She was pretty, one would have to be blind not to see it. Once upon a time, Gideon would have tripped all over herself for just a fraction of that kind of woman's attention. But those days had been over for almost a decade. Now she was a connoisseur of small and dark, but passionate gremlins.
"I-" Gideon started.
"My wife, Gideon Nav," Harrow introduced and was all but glaring at Corona.
" Wife ?" Both twins gaped at them and Gideon had the childish urge to stick her tongue out at Ianthe.
"I… was unaware you were… attached," Ianthe said, her face carefully schooled into neutrality but Gideon knew a jealous bitch when she saw one and couldn't help but feel some sense of sadistic glee at shoving their matrimony in her face.
"I am," was all Harrow saw fit to say in response before turning to Palamedes and dissolving into a heated conversation about some research paper he had written, all the while, running the thumb of her right hand over Gideon's left patella beneath the table.
Gideon caught those violet eyes staring at her over Harrow's head and she glared right back before deciding that first thing tomorrow morning she was going out to buy some of those silicone rings for Harrow. Surely they came in black.
She ignored the twins, or did her best, falling into conversation with Magnus, Abigail, and surprisingly, Camilla. Gideon quickly decided she liked her too. She was blunt and to the point.
"That reminds me of something our daughter Jeannemary said to me…" Magnus laughed and Gideon paused.
"Jeannemary Chatur?" Gideon questioned and then had both Abigail and Magnus' full attention when they realized she had both of the couple's children in class.
"Mrs. Nav!" Abigail suddenly said and Magnus laughed. "The teacher Jeanne is constantly talking about how big and impressive your muscles are."
Gideon snorted at that. She couldn't wait to tease the kid come Monday.
“They both adore your class,” Magnus smiled. “She does spend a lot of time trying to convince me of how big your arms are and… she was right..” He nodded, looking at the strained fabric of Gideon’s blazer.
"Stop wearing sleeveless shirts to school," Harrow grunted quietly.
"Never," Gideon chuckled.
By the time dinner was served, the table of nerds had devolved into work talk, save the plus ones, entertaining themselves… and Ianthe.
Who was still hitting On hEr WiFe?!?
"You simply must try these canapés, Harry," she offered and Harrow, with all the ice of the north pole in her voice, declined.
"If she calls you 'Harry' one more time, I'm gonna run her through with my steak knife," Gideon muttered into her wife's ear.
"Please do," was the equally hushed reply before turning her attention back to Sexpal and his talk about some conference the weekend before.
"You missed out on some fantastic lectures and a surprise tour of the facilities, Harrow," he was saying before he took a bite of his dinner.
"You didn't go?" Abigail gaped at her. "I assumed that you of all people would have been first in line to sign up."
"I was, till I saw the dates of the conference."
"Conflict of interest?" she asked and Harrow nodded.
"It was Gideon's birthday weekend."
"Ah, I understand." Abigail nodded.
The fork Gideon had been moving toward her mouth stopped short at that.
"My birthday? All we did was go hiking and have dinner. We could have done that any weekend," she looked down at Harrow curiously.
"But it wouldn't have been your birthday," was the simple reply before she spooned soup into her mouth.
Gideon just looked at Harrow, mentally fileing that a way to talk about later.
Later of course turned out to be twenty minutes later when she managed to drag Harrow out onto the dance floor. Mostly to get away from Ianthe whose hand was inching much too close to Harrow’s and someone was going to get stabbed.
"Why didn't you go to the 'once in a lifetime opportunity' conference?" she asked, wrapping her arms around Harrow's waist and leading them at a sedate pace across the polished floor. Harrow looked annoyed as she repeated herself.
"It was your birthday."
"I have a birthday every year," Gideon reasoned as they swayed.
"Yes, most people do," was the haughty reply. "You like celebrating your birthday."
"Most people do," Gideon snipped back and Harrow glared.
"Most people don't spend the first 18 years of their lives not celebrating their birthdays because they have no family and live in subpar orphanages and abusive foster homes."
Gideon's brows shot up her forehead at that and Harrow glanced away before refocusing her eyes on Gideon, her black stare was like looking into the sun. Almost painful but she couldn't turn away
"Ever since we met, I have known that celebrating your birthday was important to you. So even if we're doing something that could be done at any time, it's important to me we do it on your birthday. There will always be another conference to attend," she huffed with exasperation as though this was all very obvious, and using the time to explain it to her could have been better spent doing anything else.
"Oh…okay." That was all Gideon could manage to force past the boulder of clogged emotions stuck in her throat. Harrow said nothing else but Gideon felt the hand on her shoulder smoothly feel around the bone of her acromion.
"Harrow something occurred to me just a moment ago," Palamedes spoke up as they came back to the table, drawing his colleague's expectant gaze. "The name 'Nav' seemed so familiar to me, but I couldn't recall from where…," he started, smoothing a hand through the sparse beard at his chin. "It came to me though just now. Naveus-rubicundus herba!" He said, smiling.
"Gesundheit," Gideon said and both men chuckled and Cam grinned. Abigail looked equally amused by whatever Sexpal had just said and Corona looked only mildly interested while Ianthe swirled some wine in her glass, looking at them over the rim.
Harrow didn't say anything but Gideon glanced at her and stared in wonder as Harrow's ears darkened.
"No, no. It's a plant. Last year Harrowhark and I discovered the fossils of it in the South Dakota badlands," he stated.
"Oh, I remember that trip. You came back with the worst sunburn ever." She turned to Harrow. She'd been peeling dead skin off Harrow's shoulders and back in bed for weeks. The woman grunted in acknowledgment.
"Yes, well, I discovered it but Harrow did most of the testing that determined that it was once a bright red prairie grass that used to grow there. In a compromise of shared credit, I offered to let Harrow name it. That was what she chose. Naveus-rubicundus herba. 'Nav’s russet grass' in simpler terms." He was full-out grinning now and Harrow refused to make eye contact with anyone at the table. "I didn't really understand the name choice at the time but meeting you has put it into perspective," he chuckled, glancing at the russet red hair slicked back atop Gideon's head.
The buffering wheel in Gideon's head completed loading and she grinned, turning to Harrow.
"You named a thing after me!" she crowed grinning so hard it hurt.
"It's not that deep," Harrow lied through her teeth and Gideon knew it. "I needed a name. It was red. It made me think of you." She simply stated, not looking at the giddy grin on Gideon's lips.
"How exciting… grass…" Ianthe uttered sarcastically.
"Not the way I expected to leave my mark on the world, but I'll take it!"
Harrow grumbled something under her breath and Gideon squeezed her leg, ecstatic that Harrow, who took science as seriously as death, had named something after her . That cheery mood carried her all through the rest of the evening and was solely responsible for Ianthe’s continued life.
They managed to extract themselves from the ballroom an hour later, both with plans to dine with Abigail and Magnus the next week and Gideon with a boxing match with Cam in the morning.
"That was a lot more fun than I thought it would be," Gideon said, smiling and fighting the urge to undo her tie. Harrow liked to do it on the rare occasions she had to wear one. "Your jawbone got a pretty penny too." She looked down at Harrow, who seemed pleased as well.
"Yes, though I'm thoroughly done with socializing now."
"Well, let's get you home and away from all your adoring fans," Gideon chuckled as they stepped out of the lobby and into the cool night air. Harrow shuddered and without a word, Gideon slipped off her jacket and draped it over Harrow's shoulders. She clutched it to herself.
"Gideon…"
"Yes, my dark queen?"
"Are you alright?" Harrow asked suddenly and Gideon looked over at her, surprised as they strolled down the steps toward Gideon's car.
"Yeah? why wouldn't I be?" Gideon cocked her head. Harrow's jaw twitched. The sign she was trying to think of how to word whatever she was about to say and grinding her teeth.
"I just know that you were… less than pleased with me earlier in the evening,” she admitted and Gideon hummed in response, listening to the echo of their steps on the sidewalk.
“Yeah, I admit it. Learning that you’ve never mentioned me to anyone you work with and don't wear your ring at work or tell the shitty blonde constantly hitting on you that you’re married didn’t exactly feel good. I know you didn’t mean it but it almost felt like you were ashamed of me…”
She was jerked to a halt when Harrow stopped dead in her tracks.
“Harrow, wha-” the rest of her words died in her throat as she looked down at Harrow, whose dark eyes were so wide you couldn’t tell where the pupil started or the Iris ended. There was a look of such pained shock and panic on her face, as though Gideon had just stabbed her between the ribs.
“I am not ashamed, Gideon!” Harrow said sharply, a pitch of desperation coloring her words. “I don't…!” She sucked in a breath and released it in a little jerky exhale, her eyes turning downward, seeming to be calming herself. “It sounds stupid now doesn’t it? That in the almost year I’ve been working at the museum, I have never mentioned you to my colleagues…” She seemed to realize this suddenly. She looked back up and Gideon would swear that there was a wet shine to Harrow’s eyes. “I never intended for it to come across that way. I… don’t share with people… it has never had anything to do with you, Gideon.” her voice creaked.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to…” She reached up to grab both Harrow’s shoulders and pulled her into her chest. Thin arms wrapped tightly around her back. "I know you didn't even think about it and not intentionally, it's just… you. I know you weren't trying to hurt my feelings."
“But I did… and I’m sorry,” she said and the rare apology knocked the wind out of Gideon’s lungs like a professional kickboxer. “I promise, I am never ashamed of you, beloved.”
Gideon squeezed her. “Not even when I’m being an idiot?” she asked lightly and felt more than heard Harrow’s wet grunt against her chest.
“You’re not an idiot…. But yes, even then…” They stayed there for a minute, holding each other when Gideon felt fingers rubbing with precision along the line of her shoulder blades and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes fondly.
“Do you do that to everyone?” she asked suddenly and Harrow looked up at her, confused. Her mascara smudged a little. “Examine their bones,” she clarified. Harrow made a face.
“No, I don’t care about people's bones,” she huffed and Gideon was gobsmacked.
"You love bones, that’s literally what you do for a living, dig up and examine bones…”
“Dead bones, beloved. Not living ones.”
“You examine my bones all the time.”
“...I like your bones…”
Gideon couldn’t help but guffaw at that. “What, mine are the only marrow-filled calcium giving you a hardon?” she barked out a laugh and Harrow scowled.
“If you MUST describe it in such a crass way…”
“I must, yes.”
“...then yes,” Harrow grunted, much as it pained her to say. Then, quieter, and pressing in further to Gideon’s chest: "I like reminding myself how… sturdy you are. Strong, all the way to the core. It's comforting." Harrow’s fingers dug into the spaces between her ribs.
Gideon didn't know what to say to that, instead she just squeezed Harrow closer and placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
“Now, can we go home?” she pulled out of Gideon’s embrace but kept a hand slotted into the bend of her elbow and pulled her along back toward the car.
Weirdly, Gideon was relieved that the only living bones Harrow seemed to care about were hers. She would however deny that such a bizarre thing made her feel special and loved and that maybe she would play along more often when Harrow pretended she wasn’t examining the width of her phalanges or smoothing both her thumbs over Gideon's iliac crests.
"I can't wait to tell my students that there's a plant named after me!" Gideon beamed as they walked to the car and Harrow sighed.