Chapter 1
Alexis spends her whole flight back thinking about how much she’s missed Schitt’s Creek. Sure, having her own room again was nice, and New York is such a magical city and she’s definitely in love with her job, but…
As much as she loves the modern juice bar a few blocks from her apartment, she misses walking into the Café Tropical and watching Twyla’s face light up, the way her name on Twy’s lips always sounded warm and bubbly, how Twyla knows what she’s having before she even opens her mouth. New York doesn’t exactly do regulars, and it’s been months since someone recognised her on the streets – she misses walking into David and Patrick’s store and knowing every single customer in there – if there were any.
Besides, she’s run out of lip balm and her brother’s clearly too grossly in love to send her more, and – she’s back, now, for a few weeks over the Christmas holidays, and she’s missed them all so. much.
She’s staying at the motel, in her old room, for old times’ sake, and when she’d rung to book it Roland had answered with a ‘hey, ‘lexis, ‘m just eating lunch, what can I do for ya?”
She hates to admit that she’s missed him too, their grabby baby and Jocelyn’s warm words. She misses walking past the town hall and hearing the Jazzagals sing, Ronnie’s deep alto accompanied by her mother’s ringing high notes.
And she misses her brother, of course. Although, thinking about it now, she probably misses Patrick more. She thinks of how Patrick – donned in a tan way too dark for his gorgeously alabaster skin tone – had found her as they both did sad walks in the dark the night she’d broken up with Ted.
God, it’s funny, really, the way she can think about that now. For a while, she’d not been able to think about how Ted had driven her home, how they’d held each other in the dark under the Motel porch, how she’d kissed him one last time and then watched from David’s window as Ted sobbed once and drove away.
Then, she’d put her runners on and walked. Until she’d bumped into Patrick, walking around near the store aimlessly, in the midst of a tiny fight with her brother.
Seeing him, so hopelessly orange, knowing that he was hurting but he loved David, and fuck- Ted had loved her too, and she him, and Patrick still had David and they were getting married and it should have been her and Ted as well-
She’d started sobbing into the night and wordlessly, he’d wrapped her into a hug and rubbed her back and held her, and when she’d calmed down a bit, he’d taken her home to David, who had promptly forgotten that Patrick had mentioned something about those people, and held her til she’d finally fallen into a sad sleep at about 3 o’clock in the morning. She knows David and Patrick were having gross husband-to-grossly-in-love-husband eye conversations over her head, but she was too busy crying.
Anyway! She’s – mostly – over Ted now, and besides… she’s got her sight set on someone else.
She’d spent the night – god, that sounds bad – with Stevie after David and Patrick’s wedding. It had started off with Alexis-is-sad and neither-of-us-are-in-love and this-is-just-a-tad-bit-too-depressing-to-be-funny, as David and Patrick made gooey eyes at each other from where they were wrapped up together, as her parents danced slowly, as Twyla and Mutt did a strictly friends little waltz thing. She and Stevie had watched them, downing their drinks, until Alexis had leant her head on Stevie’s shoulder and Stevie had shrugged and together, they’d danced.
They’d kept dancing long after Twy and Mutt had headed out the back to make out. Long after David and Patrick went home, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Long after her dad announced ‘big morning tomorrow!’ and pulled her slightly-too-drunk mom back to the motel.
And suddenly it had just been them. A slow song, too slow for Alexis, and low lights, and she was so fucking sad, and Stevie was looking at her in that very Stevie way, like she had a hold on the earth but wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and Alexis had cupped her chin and kissed her.
Later, back at Stevie’s apartment, Alexis stopped her, stopped her clever hands from roaming too far, from pulling the tie of her not-a-wedding-dress undone before it was too late.
“I’m sad,” she’d said, with a little smile. “This isn’t fair.”
“I’m sad too,” Stevie had replied. “because you’re leaving in three days and I’ve wanted to do this since you first stepped into my motel four years ago. So.”
Alexis had stopped smiling pretty quickly. “That makes it even more unfair.”
“Jesus Christ, Alexis,” Stevie had sighed. “Okay. Fine. Want some more wine?”
And they’d sat there for an hour, laughing tipsily at videos of David on Stevie’s phone, and then Stevie had cuddled herself into Alexis’ side and she looked so fucking soft, softer than Alexis had ever seen her before, softer than she’d ever shown any of them at work, and she’d sighed slightly and suddenly Stevie was kissing across her collarbone, looking up and saying “tell me to stop”, and Alexis didn’t, she couldn’t, and they were making out, and then –
And then Alexis hadn’t stopped thinking about her for three months.
She had no idea how Stevie went with things like this. They’d spoken on the phone – mainly texts and stupid David stories and occasionally the odd phone call late at night, and truthfully, Alexis was nervous to see her today. Because her face didn’t normally light up at notifications on her phone, even if it was Sydney Sweeney. And her heart didn’t normally skip a beat when she heard David tell her about Stevie’s ‘stupid friendship with my husband, Alexis, I swear he loves her more than me!’
She wasn’t used to feelings, and the last time she’d had them she’d sent them away to the Galapagos and taken three months to repair them.
And now they were back, way too soon, and she was nervous.
She’s exhausted by the time her plane landed, but her whole existence lights up in a way she hasn’t felt in months when she rolls her luggage out of the tiny Elmdale airport and sees David and Patrick – the only other people there – holding up a sign that reads Ms Alexis Rose, Girl Boss.
“Oh my god, my favourite brother!” she squeals, and throws her arms around Patrick. David grabs the sign off his husband and hits her with it, and she giggles, wrapping herself around him. God, she’s missed him – his smell, his warmth, him, and she doesn’t let go for a fraction too long, until he pushes her back with an ‘ew, Alexis, feelings much?’
She hits him back, a huge smile on her face, and Patrick drives them back to Schitt’s Creek in his hatchback. She’s too tired to tell them about how she met Zendaya last week, or how Mel Gibson’s in her next movie deal with Interflix, or how they want her to do a tour of a southern village in France for a press release thingy. So she lets Patrick regale her with stories of a puppy that they might be adopting – ‘she’s so cute, David’s just worried that she has better hair than him’ – and how they’ve certified a deal with more vendors, and how the rest of the town’s going.
“Thought we could head back to our place for dinner,” David says, stunning her out of her tired, sleep-deprived reverie. “Pizza or something.”
She nods. “Sounds good. I’m not staying with you two, though, David, because we’ve done that once and I never want to do it again.”
Patrick blushes slightly, David hits her, and she grins. God, she’s missed them.
“…Oh, and Stevie’s coming. She wants to see you.”
Alexis blinks. “Sorry, what?”
“Stevie. Remember? Flannel, looks like a homeless lesbian, lowkey scruffy, with the wit of – god, I don’t even know what. Works at the motel?”
She brushes him off. “Stevie wants to see me?”
“Yeah, keep up. You’re one of her only friends, apart from us. Of course she does.”
Right. “Of course.”
0o0o0
She has to shower, now, ugh. She was planning on sitting wrapped in David’s merino blanket that he wouldn’t let her take to New York, and drinking wine until she passed out pleasantly and Patrick drove her home to the motel and she didn’t even have to see Stevie til tomorrow.
But now, she has to shower, and do her hair, and – ugh, David, why?
He must have missed her too, because he comes in when she’s just out of the shower and refuses to let her shoo him away, taking a comb and parting her hair and braiding it down both sides of her scalp, just like when they were little. He finishes them with a kiss to her part and whispers “I’m glad you’re home” which is, like, the most un-David thing ever, so much so that she turns around and asks if he’s okay.
He flicks her, which makes her feel better, and tells her to get dressed soon because Stevie’s coming in fifteen, be ready.
Be ready. Like fuck she will.
0o0o0
She’s gone with a knitted cable sweater and black leggings, because a) it looks cute with her braids, and b) she’s so fucking tired, but she sprays herself with perfume and rubs a tiny bit of vanilla body cream behind her ears and puts hoop earrings in – but fuck her face, makeup is too much of an effort. Bye the time David calls for her to come out, she smirks at the unintended joke, puts her glasses on because fuck her eyes hurt so much, and steps into the hall.
And promptly, her breath falls out of her chest.
They stare at each other for a moment, before Alexis collects herself with an “Oh my god, Stevie!” And David’s muttering about how she remembers now, of course, but she’s holding her arms open and hoping to god Stevie steps into them.
And step into them she does, and Alexis remembers just how perfectly she fits in, how small she is, and her heartrate jumps and she breathes in Stevie’s musky smell, and godshemissedhersomuch.
Stevie steps away with an awkward shrug and a ‘hey, Alexis,’ and Alexis feels awkward too for a minute but then Stevie smiles slightly at her and their hands brush and it’s fireworks fireworks fireworks all over again.
They catch up all night but she’s still fucking exhausted and her eyes are drooping shut as she curls up against David and Patrick’s couch, toes tapping against Stevie’s. Stevie has her hand on Alexis’ ankle, but David and Patrick either haven’t noticed or don’t care, because they haven’t said anything.
“You must be wrecked, Alexis,” Patrick says quietly, and she nods, stifling a yawn. “You should head back. I’ll drive you, it’s okay.”
“No, I can take her,” Stevie says, and David furrows his brows slightly. Stevie blushes, holding a hand out to Alexis. “It’s practically on the way.”
“It’s really, definitely not,” David murmurs, but he doesn’t stop them as Alexis links her hand with Stevie’s and allows her to lead her to the door. “Bye, I guess. See y’all tomorrow.”
Stevie shouts a bye but Alexis is too caught up on their hands to notice, because – it’s so warm and I’m tingling so much, is this how hands feel? Why is it so soft?
They’re in the car before she knows it, and Stevie drops her hand to grab the steering wheel.
Alexis whines.
Actual, honest to god, whines.
Stevie laughs quietly, picks it back up, and strokes her thumb over Alexis’s knuckles all the way to the motel.
They’re there all too quickly for Alexis’s liking, and she refuses to get out of the car, clutching tighter to Stevie.
God, Stevie.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Stevie says bluntly, and Alexis looks up.
“I want to,” she says honestly. “God, I want to.”
And then they’re kissing over the console, hands and bodies a mess, trying to hold each other, and Alexis pulls away breathlessly and looks at Stevie. “Come inside with me.”
Stevie just nods, locks the car, and the second they’re inside she’s backing Alexis up against the wall and – wow, actually, Alexis missed this place – and her hands are tangled in Stevie’s hair and Alexis makes this gorgeous little sound in the back of her throat that has Stevie pulling back to whisper ‘I missed you so much.’
“I missed you too,” Alexis says, and it’s so devoid of Alexis, of her usual vocal-isms, that Stevie’s put in her place.
“God, you must be so tired,” she says, a laugh bubbling from her chest. “How long have you been awake, huh?”
“Like, fourteen hours at this point.”
“Jesus,” Stevie whispers, and she pulls Alexis over to the beds. “Should we put them together?”
“You’re staying, are you?” Alexis laughs, and Stevie’s face goes white.
“Oh! No, god, I don’t have to – fuck, um –”
“I’m joking,” Alexis giggles, long fingers encircling Stevie’s wrists. “Please stay.”
Stevie lets out a tiny sigh of relief, giggling too. “I’d love to.”
“Good,” Alexis says, softer than usual, and she still hasn’t let Stevie’s wrists go. “It weirds me out, though, knowing that David’s slept there. Can we just use mine?”
“You know I’ve washed the sheets since you left, right?” Stevie teases. But no one’s stayed here. Not these rooms. She’s vowed only to rent them out if absolutely necessary. They’re Rose rooms, through and through.
“Ugh, yeah, I know, but still – that’s David’s, Stevie, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”
“Oh, I can’t?” Stevie grins, suddenly a lot closer than Alexis was ready for, her hands finding Alexis’s hips and her face tilted up to meet Alexis’. “You sure?”
Alexis shudders, curling her arms around Stevie quickly, holding the back of her neck as she draws her into a searing kiss. Stevie moans lowly, helping Alexis over to the bed, sitting her down and straddling her lap easily, never breaking the kiss.
Alexis kisses her back, hands roaming up and down Stevie’s back, but Stevie pulls away again. “You’re tired. And we have two weeks. Let’s sleep, okay?”
Alexis doesn’t have the energy to argue, so she nods. “Wanna borrow some pyjamas?”
Stevie shakes her head. “I was hoping this was how tonight was gonna go. I have a bag in the car. I’ll be two minutes.”
Alexis just watches her, a smile on her face, unclipping her earrings. Yes.
0o0o0
By the time Stevie’s back and dressed, Alexis has taken her earrings out, put her glasses on the nightstand, moisturised her face and changed into a comfier top. She reaches her arms out needily as Stevie grins at her, and makes a happy little sound when Stevie lifts her up slightly and settles them in against the headboard. Stevie’s laying against the pillows, Alexis draped under one arm, her long legs entangled with Stevie’s. Alexis is drawing loose patterns with her nails on Stevie’s stomach, head tucked into Stevie’s neck as she blinks sleepily.
“Go to sleep, Alexis,” Stevie murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “We have two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” Alexis echoes, but she’s starting to think she wants more.
“Two weeks,” Stevie promises, tracing her braids down the side of her head and pressing her lips to Alexis’s forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.”
“This is… too goo’,” Alexis mutters tiredly, eyes dropping shut. “Gotta end… too good…”
“You deserve good,” Stevie whispers. “We deserve good.”