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Bette woke with a groan, her hand on fire, her head feeling like someone was pounding stakes through it. She rolled away from Tina, hitting her fingers by mistake and cursed eloquently, waking the blonde who sat up in concern.
“What? What happened?”
“My hand. My head. My fucking life.” Bette said with a snarl, rolling out of bed to wash her face awkwardly with one hand before going into the washroom, the door slamming behind her.
Tina sighed, washed her face and put her hair back in a loose ponytail before getting some things out of her bag. She changed clothes and then went to the door and spoke softly to Shane, who nodded and disappeared.
Bette came out, her feet shuffling, and Tina called to her softly. “Come here…” She held a chair out for Bette, seeing how gingerly she was moving, how she cradled her injured hand in her other hand.
Bette sat at the table where Tina stood, feeling dejected, flexing her hand painfully. She lay her head on the table on her good arm, her head down. Tina moved in front of her and gently began moving her fingers through the curly hair, massaging the back of Bette’s skull and neck with strong fingers.
When Bette lifted her head, Tina guided it to rest on her lower stomach and continued working on the back of the brunette’s head and shoulders, Bette’s good hand coming around to hold Tina gently on the back of her knee under her sleepshirt. Tina could feel the tension in Bette’s neck, the stress knotted in the muscles.
The pressure of being Captain and the pain in her body not allowing the brunette to sleep fully and get the rest she needed to heal, the alcohol not helping. Tina patiently worked through each area, while being acutely aware of the warmth Bette’s hand created on the back of her knee, Bette’s need to connect with her telling Tina there was more going on than just a hangover. She was really hurting.
And God if Tina’s fingers weren’t working magic to knead the stress and tension away from Bette’s headache. The blonde smelled so fucking good, the lavender scent infusing Bette’s head to calm her nerves, further relaxing her. She let the fingers of her good hand trail up higher and higher on the back of Tina’s thigh, wondering how far she would be allowed to go. The skin was so soft there, on the back of Tina’s thigh, soft but toned and warm. It was a nice distraction. Tina did not stop her hand and Bette went as far up as she dared, in the end lowering her hand gently, not wanting to push anything.