“Expensive jewelry, totally a normal friend gift,” Jess looks at the necklace in Reagan’s hands, caught somewhere in between two instincts. She could act with self-preservation, draw some lines, create some healthy boundaries.
“Let me take you to dinner,” Reagan’s hand trails through Jess’s hair. “Dress sexy, we’re going someplace nice.”
Jess really isn’t good at the whole self-preservation thing.
“Okay,” she agrees, despite the angry nervous butterflies flopping around aggressively in her gut.
She could have just thrown on one of her nicer dresses and a pair of heels, but she can’t help herself - she pulls out all the stops, donning one of the dresses Cece bought her, even putting on a bit of that lipstick that makes people stare at her mouth. All in all, she looks pretty good.
Reagan is waiting for her in the living room when she’s done getting ready.
Jess may look pretty good by her standards, but Reagan? She looks like the main character in one of those Hallmark films about a CEO who finds love in some small town. She looks perfect.
“Wow, when you said dress up -” Jess says, glancing down at her own tight red dress with second thoughts.
“I meant exactly this. You look insanely hot. You should wear stuff like this more often,” Reagan says easily, discarding Jess’s concerns easily.
Jess laughs it off awkwardly, fiddling with her glasses, “Thank you, you look - well, hot as always.”
Reagan smiles at her warmly. “Shall we?”
____________________________________________________________________________
Dinner is too good. Jess tries to bring up boundaries but she keeps getting lost in the way Reagan is treating her.
She’s not used to being taken out like this. Sure, she’s been on nice dates, even fancy dates, but no one has ever doted on her like this.
Reagan orders wine for her, somehow picking out exactly the type that Jess likes despite her not recognizing a single brand. She orders for them both in perfect Italian, earning an approving look from the otherwise sour-faced maitre’d.
She tops off Jess’s wine without asking, feeds her occasional bites of her own pasta, even orders a sharing dessert for the two of them.
If this was a date, Jess would be majorly impressed right now, especially with the expensive necklace displayed openly around her neck, emphasized by the strapless dress. Especially with how Reagan’s eyes linger on it…
But she’s not allowed to think about that. Heck, she should be mad at Reagan for looking at her like that in the first place!
But she can’t be. She’s too enamored, too ready to let this little fantasy play out, including the bit where Reagan opens her car door for her.
Her wish is fulfilled as soon as they leave the restaurant.
When they get home, Reagan walks her up with her, waving casually to Nick who’s sitting on the couch eating leftover birthday cake. “You two look nice,” he says through a bite.
“Jess deserved some spoiling,” Reagan says conversationally, like she and Jess hadn’t just been sharing tiramisu at a candlelit table. She could go along with it, but her guilt has reached a head that needs to be popped.
“Okay, this is too weird,” Jess says, finally breaking. They both look at her, surprise in their eyes, and a little worried as well. “I’ve been acting like a girlfriend to Nick, and I know you’re not a jealous person, but now I’m your girlfriend too! I know you’re just being nice, but I can’t keep being your…relationship proxy!”
Reagan looks very serious. “You’re right,” she says, and Jess feels relief, and also disappointment.
Despite having the status quo reset, she will miss all this, weird as it is. She likes making cakes and going on dates where she doesn’t have to order for herself because Reagan knows what she likes. She likes making Reagan coffee in the morning when she’s up hours before Nick, and she likes how Nick asks her every day about what students annoyed her. He even knows their names.
How much of that will change? Where is the line?
“What if we actually dated?” Reagan asks, and Nick and Jess freeze, dumbstruck.
“You’re breaking up with me?” Nick asks, voice laden with shock.
“Of course not,” Reagan says coolly. People accuse her of being a robot, but Jess feels like she can always see the mask. Reagan made herself into a person that can’t be shocked to compensate for her childhood, that much is obvious, even if she never talks about it.
“So…” Jess leaves the sentence open, feeling more nervous than ever.
Reagan chews the inside of her lip nervously, drawing both Jess and Nick’s eyes to her lips as they pull to the side.
Jess looks away, and Nick looks at Jess, both of them blushing.
“You like her!” Nick accuses Jess, pointing at her dramatically as he leaps to his feet, still on top of the couch.
“I like both of you!” Jess yell-groans, her mouth working before her mind does.
“Good!” Reagan says victoriously, and they both turn to look at her again, “So we can just do this for real now.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Nick asks, still staring at Jess in confused interest.
Jess wants to hear the answer too.
“It means…” Reagan thinks for a moment, her brow crinkling in that cute way that happens when she tries to express emotions. “I date Jess, I date you, she dates both of us. I think we all want this. Tell me that I’m wrong.”
Nick and Reagan look at Jess, who feels very much like a deer in headlights at the moment.
“Um,” she says, uncomfortably fiddling with her glasses and looking anywhere but at either of them. Nick adapts to the new mindset quicker, always more malleable to his surroundings than the others. It’s a strength he doesn’t utilize enough, but that line of thought is put aside rapidly as she listens to how he speaks to Jess, his voice soothing, like the ASMR tracks Reagan plays to fall asleep.
“Jess, breathe. I know this is weird, but I’m down for this, whatever we make it. Whether that’s you being our friend or you being our girlfriend. Things don’t have to change, but change doesn’t have to be bad either. It seems like it could actually be pretty amazing this time, if it’s something you want,” Nick says in one of those rare moments of wisdom. The tension is immediately eased.
Jess takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, finally looking up at the two of them. “You’re right. Both of you. I do want this. I’m just scared.”
Reagan is beside her in an instant, stroking her hair lovingly like she always does, like Jess is precious to her. She is, she amends mentally. “It’s okay, baby, why don’t we just talk tonight and watch a movie?”
Jess melts. She doesn’t think Reagan meant to call her baby. It didn’t sound purposeful. Actually, it’s not the first time she’s said it.
Jess blushes, leaning into Reagan’s touch without meaning to. It was easier to resist when she thought she had to.
Now though? Now she’s succumbing. She nods, easier than trying to speak again.
“Okay, you two go wash off your makeup, I’ll grab the comfy clothes and pick out the movie. Back in ten?” Nick asks, happily chugging along as the night continues to take unexpected turns.
They take turns in the bathroom with practiced ease, having lived together for weeks now. When Jess emerges, there’s a pile of clothes picked out for her, evidently taken from her laundry pile. She puts on her favorite comfort sweater with the fuzzy rabbit on the front and her soft cotton shorts with little neon pink strawberries on them.
She should feel stranger than she does at the moment, considering the circumstances, but…
But, Nick knows what sweater she wears when she wants to stay in and snuggle into her blankets rather than face the world.
Jess takes a deep breath, and goes to the living room.
Nick and Reagan are on the couch already, quietly discussing something. Nick’s eyes snag on her as she exits the hallway, his mouth stopping mid-word.
It’s tense again. “Come here,” Reagan says, her voice sultry and heavy in the otherwise silent apartment.
Jess can’t help but obey, sitting in the spot they make between them.
There’s a brief moment of tension as Jess settles in, all of them too nervous to make the first move.
“Is that wine?” Jess asks, reaching for the glass sitting in front of her spot, obviously hers with two partially drunk glasses to the right and left, one of beer and one of whiskey.
“I bought it in California for you. I was saving it for a special occasion,” Reagan says, and Jess feels enamored. She takes a sip, humming with delight at the sweet, bubbly red. It’s her new favorite in an instant.
“It’s perfect,” she says, too emotionally, and it’s weird again. “What are we watching?”
Nick answers, a salve on the weirdness of the situation, as always. “Gilmore Girls, the Logan season,” he says confidently, pressing play.
____________________________________________________________________________
It’s weird. It’s beyond weird.
Jess wakes up hours later, Reagan’s hand still curled in her hair from where she’d left it last night, Nick’s curled around her hip, his nose tucked snugly against her neck.
She wiggles herself out of the cuddle puddle, moving quietly as she makes coffee, unable to rest now that she’s woken up at her typical early hour.
She automatically chooses the light roast - Reagan’s favorite - so she can’t be too surprised when she turns around and Reagan is there in her sleep-rumpled designer sweatpants.
“Did I wake you up?” Jess asks apologetically.
Reagan steps into her space, looking purposefully between her lips and her eyes.
“No, I just smelled coffee. The one I like, that’s been mysteriously appearing in the cabinets since I mentioned it exactly once,” she says, stepping closer.
Jess takes a step back, and with how small the kitchen is, that means she can now feel the counter behind her, pressing into her lower back. “I like having coffee with you, I wanted to have the coffee you like,” Jess says, feeling dumb as she blushes.
Reagan takes a half-step closer, pressing herself against Jess. “I get up this early because I like seeing you with bedhead,” she breathes into Jess’s ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“Really?” Jess croaks, suddenly feeling like every bone in her body has dissolved.
“Really,” Reagan says, her lips barely touching the skin of Jess’s neck as she speaks.
“You’re my girlfriend, right?” Jess asks, the reality of the situation dawning on her with the light of a new day. No pun intended.
“Yes, I thought we figured this out last night -” Jess cuts her off, pulling her to her room and shutting the door behind them, pressing Reagan firmly against it, her hands roaming boldly across her curves.
Reagan gasps, but the sound is swallowed up by Jess’s mouth as she kisses her thoroughly.
The truth didn’t fully sink in last night.
Now it does. She can touch Reagan as much as she wants, within reason.
That’s more freedom than she should be trusted with.
Reagan moans, melting into putty under Jess’s ministrations.
Jess pulls her by the waist, pushing her down into the still-made bed.
She savors the moment, looking down at the beautiful woman, her perfectly straight hair splayed out across Jess’s cupcake-patterned pillows. She looks at Jess warily, like Jess will disappear at any moment.
“We don’t have to do anything if -” Reagan says, cut off by a gasp as Jess’s mouth kisses along the exposed line of skin between her shirt and boxers.
“What was that?” Jess asks teasingly between bold nips at the skin leading to Reagan’s hips.
“Do anything you want,” Reagan amends dangerously.
Jess grins, tugging down her shorts with a hungry look.
Reagan moans submissively, an unexpected turn in the Jess situation.
Yeah, she fantasized about this, but it was nothing compared to what’s happening now. Jess may like to be taken care of in normal day-to-day existence, but here? Apparently Jess is the generous one.
Reagan gives control over. Jess hasn’t ever been with a woman, but she seems to know exactly what to do, or maybe it’s her enthusiasm that’s making up for her lack of experience.
“Can I taste you?” Jess asks, pausing a hair’s breadth from Reagan’s thin satin panties. Reagan can feel the heat of Jess’s mouth as she speaks.
She shivers, nodding slightly. “Use your words, pretty girl,” Jess says, her voice deeper than Reagan has ever heard it.
“Yes, please. Please taste me,” she says hurriedly, nearly begging as Jess grins, running her finger along the line of the thong before pulling it aside.
Reagan moans, squirming into the mattress, trying to get more, anything Jess is willing to give.
Jess shocks her again, a harsh slap landing on her thigh, followed by both hands pressing her hips securely to the bed, motionless as Reagan freezes, looking up at Jess with new eyes.
“Be still until I tell you to move. What’s your color?” Jess knows Reagan will recognize the color system. Reagan does, but she’s usually been the one asking the question.
It excites her to have the tables turned so suddenly. “Green, green, so fucking green,” she begs, willing her legs to stay exactly where Jess has them pinned. The Snow White-esque Jess is long gone now. The woman staring down at her is lustful, hungry, possessive. Reagan has never been so curious. She wants to get to know every facet of this woman, who she apparently doesn’t know nearly enough about.
Jess devours her, frustratingly slowly, building Reagan up over and over again but not letting her have the final push she needs to come completely undone.
“Tell me what you want,” Jess says, Reagan shivering under her hot breath, watching as Jess licks her lips.
“I want you to make me cum,” Reagan says, surprised she’s able to get through the whole sentence with as much as she’s whining.
Jess grins lasciviously at her, looking very much in control. Reagan’s happy to give her all the control. “Squirm as much as you want, love. You’ve been such a good girl for me.”
Reagan cums the moment Jess dives back in, licking with purpose now, two fingers teasing at her entrance and finally pushing in.
Jess hums happily, pulling back only long enough to nip at Reagan’s thigh, leaving a small hickey on the inside. It feels like she’s being claimed, and Reagan can’t get enough, happily allowing herself to be broken down, orgasm after orgasm.
When Jess finally sits back, it’s with a smug look on her face. She disappears for a second, reappearing with a wet washcloth.
She gently cleans Reagan up, the still-shocked woman relishing every soft touch.
“You did so good for me,” Jess mumbles reverently, tucking them both into her comforter, wrapping her arms lovingly around Reagan.
“I didn’t even return the favor,” Reagan murmurs sleepily, feeling the bone-deep exhaustion set in.
“There’s time for that later. Nap now,” Jess says soothingly, pulling the blankets tighter around them.
Reagan nods, letting her eyes drift shut.
____________________________________________________________________________
When Reagan wakes up, Jess is just starting to rouse, her face still slack with sleep. How the hell did Reagan get so damn lucky?
She relaxes back into Jess’s embrace for a little bit longer, waiting for Jess to wake.
A few minutes later, those achingly blue doe eyes open up to her, going wide like she didn’t expect her to be there.
Reagan grins. “Bashful? After all that?” Reagan jokes, sitting up in bed and delighting in the blush on Jess’s face. She loves the insanely hot dominant goddess she met two hours previous, but she can’t help but be enchanted by the awkward dork in equal measure.
“So, no second thoughts? You still want me?” Jess asks, and Reagan nods happily, automatically reaching up to thread her hand in Jess’s hair.
“No second thoughts. I just keep wondering how I got so fucking lucky,” Reagan says, kissing Jess lightly.
“Good, me too,” Jess stammers, looking adorable as she squirms in place.
“Brunch?” Reagan asks, and Jess grins, looking more like herself.
“I could make pancakes!” she says happily, already moving to get dressed.
Reagan throws on a pair of Jess’s sweatpants and a tank top. It would be easy enough to grab something from her bag in the other room, but she doesn’t want to. It’s a small thing, but she really wants to wear Jess’s clothes. She’s always enjoyed getting to borrow from her, or, best of all, wearing the things Jess made by hand.
They smell like Jess, purely feminine, all jasmine and honey and the vague scent of vanilla frosting.
Reagan is out right behind Jess, but something has stopped the brunette, because she’s just standing in the hallway, staring at the living room.
“Oh,” Reagan says, catching up to what’s happening.
Cece and Schmidt and Winston are in the living room, arms crossed and staring judgmentally at the two of them.
Maybe they just got here and didn’t hear anything -
“Finally emerging from your sex den?” Schmidt says angrily, getting up from the couch.
Nick snorts, then immediately falls silent as Schmidt glares at him. “You should be outraged more than anyone! Except me. I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces when the betrayal finally sets in.”
Reagan is the next to break, laughing out loud as Schmidt’s face goes from red to full on tomato with rage.
Nick grins at her and the very embarrassed Jess.
“You’re not doing your guilty face,” Winston says, an accusatory finger pointed at Jess.
“Of course she’s not,” Nick says, putting on his best cowboy voice. He’s nervous. He does voices when he’s nervous.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Jess says suddenly, falling prey to Cece’s investigative stare.
“What?!” all three yell at once.
“And that means you feel justified having horribly arousing carnal sex in the hearing range of your ex? Both of your ex - exes! Grammar wasn’t made for this horror show of a romantic entanglement!” Schmidt yells, waving his arms around in frustration.
Jess flinches, and Reagan instinctively moves between her and Schmidt, crossing her arms intimidatingly as the room falls silent and Schmidt takes a big step back.
“Calm down, she’s dating Nick too. We both are,” Reagan says coolly, despite her still angry-looking face.
“And you didn’t tell us immediately?” Winston asks, staring at Nick with exaggerated hurt.
“The man who can barely handle having one girlfriend has two now? This is madness! Madness I say!” Schmidt shrieks, eyebrows raised so high they might as well be a part of his hairline by now.
“I don’t know,” Cece says, piping up for the first time.
Schmidt looks at her with shock written across his face. “You’re talking crazy, baby,” he says beseechingly.
She shrugs. “It kind of makes sense in a really weird way. Reagan has that effect. I mean, you heard her, making Jess whine like that. You would crumble too.”
Schmidt is almost purple at this point. Winston nods wisely in agreement with Cece’s assessment, as if he knew it all along.
“That wasn’t Jess,” Nick says, Jess burying her face in her hands behind Reagan.
“Bullshit,” Winston says, eyes narrowed at Nick, then back to Reagan for confirmation.
“I…may have been the one…making noise,” she admits, refusing to use the word whining, standing proudly, bolstered by the feeling of Jess pressing into her shoulder, hiding from the shocked looks.
“You’re kidding,” Schmidt says, looking between Cece and Reagan.
“She’s not,” Jess says, stepping out from behind Reagan, still cringing as she takes her hand, thankful that Reagan squeezes it immediately, interlocking their fingers like they’ve done it a million times.
“Wait so let me get this straight -” Schmidt says, his seriousness undercut by Winston’s snort.
“Jess tops Reagan, Reagan obviously tops Nick, and Nick tops Jess?” Schmidt says, methodically, pointing at each of them in turn.
Cece narrows her eyes at Jess, who is now not looking at anyone at all. Which is hard, considering how many people are in the small room.
Even Reagan is watching Jess as she looks away guiltily.
“Okay so I may...top Nick too,” Jess says, summoning some amount of courage as she juts her chin out, trying to convey some amount of control over the situation.
“More than I ever needed to know,” Cece says, “But also good for you. And them, apparently.” She raises an eyebrow at Reagan knowingly.
Uncharacteristically, Reagan blushes and looks away, obviously feeling defensive. It’s all the confirmation Cece needs.
Winston breaks down in laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. “This is amazing.”
“Can we stop discussing my sex life now, or…?” Jess asks, her confidence wavering.
“Not when you’re apparently a secret casanova! Who’s going to be taken into your freaky reverse harem next? Cece? I won’t allow it!” Schmidt’s voice goes up in pitch as he gets more and more panicky.
“Gross, Schmidt. Jar,” Jess orders, and Schmidt is halfway there before he turns to her with a horrified expression.
“Oh my god, I’m next,” he says, eyes wide and frantic.
Cece rolls her eyes, pulling him down to the couch next to her. “Jess, please tell Schmidt you have no interest in seducing either of us into some weird harem, reverse or otherwise.”
“Double jar fee, that’s disgusting,” Nick chimes in irritatedly.
Winston nods sagely. “Just because Jess is a sexual deviant beyond anything we imagined does not mean she’s interested in you or your girl. She has a type.”
“Oh?” Schmidt says, a curious eyebrow up and inquisitive.
“Obviously,” Winston says, producing a bubble pipe from his robe. “Elementary, even,” he says.
“The theatrics are unnecessary -” Jess says, cut off by Cece.
“No, let the man cook,” she says, and Jess groans in defeat.
“You like emotionally unavailable people who are dominant everywhere but in bed. You’re soft everywhere, but in bed,” Winston waggles his eyebrows suggestively, a case solved successfully.
Nick nods, “It makes sense,” he says.
“That’s enough,” Cece says, looking to Reagan for confirmation as Jess dances between being hidden behind her and not.
“I say Jess makes pancakes and we all just accept that we live in the reality that Jess has more game than any of us,” Cece says, and everyone nods, Jess avoiding everyone’s eyes for the next several hours.
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
“Cece, I need help,” Reagan says, looking panicked.
“What, lovers-es quarrel?” she wrinkles her nose in frustration at the weird grammar. How do you pluralize a plural? Whatever.
“I need to get Jess a christmas gift,” she says.
Cece frowns. It’s Schmidt who answers, though. “You know that’s damn near impossible. And you waited until two days before christmas?! The woman is walking holiday cheer. She’s Cindy Lou-Hoo and everyone compared to her is the Grinch. Why would you do this to yourself?!”
“I’ve been looking for over a month and I still can’t find anything good enough! I have ten backup presents at this point, and all of them suck ass!” Reagan says, her voice raising with panic as she speaks.
“Fine, bring them out,” Schmidt says, waving his hand dismissively at her.
“What?” Reagan says dumbly.
“He’s right, bring out the backup gifts,” Cece says, “We need to see what we’re working with here.”
Ten minutes later, the various jewelry and clothing boxes are laid out across Schmidt’s bed.
“Am I doing the math wrong, or did you spend over ten thousand dollars on all this?” Cece asks judgmentally, Schmidt looking like he’s about to spiral.
“Her gift has to be nice!” Reagan says defensively.
“Okay, I’m about to school you on Jess real quick,” Schmidt says.
“Cece has known her for ten years longer than you -”
“No, let him cook,” Cece says, watching Schmidt with interest.
“You can give Jess anything, but it’s the thought you put into it that matters. Why did you pick jewelry and clothes?” he asks, pushing Reagan down into the chair beside his bed and crossing his arms like she’s being interrogated.
“She deserves nice things, and I like seeing her in the stuff I get her,” Reagan says simply.
“Good reasons. Jess can’t be bought, so it’s the thought that matters. We just need to repackage some of these absurdly expensive items so they show why you got them for her,” he says, a knowing gleam in his eyes.
Cece nods sagely. “He’s right. This is Jess. You can’t just give her a gift. Why not make it a thing to do. Take her out somewhere special, and give her the outfit to wear for the date. Make a memory.”
“You’re so wise,” Schmidt says adoringly to her.
“So it needs to be a…thing. A romantic gesture,” Reagan says, tripping over her words as her brain whirs to life with potential plans.
“I’ve got this,” she says, gathering the assorted boxes and getting ready to rush through preparations. She has a little over 24 hours to make this work.
“You’ve got this!” Cece and Schmidt echo enthusiastically, but Reagan hears the whispering behind her. She knows Schmidt doesn’t believe it for an instant.
She’ll show him. She can be good at Christmas. She can.
____________________________________________________________________________
She can’t. She’s freaking out.
She can’t do this. It should be simple, but it’s not.
“Whoa,” Nick says, entering his bedroom, which has been turned into a staging area.
“You’re spiraling,” he says, tutting amusedly. “I get it, this isn’t my first rodeo trying to give Jess gifts. It’s impossible. Just accept that hers will be better and she will love whatever you get her, even if it’s dumb.”
“That’s not good enough!” Reagan frowns down at the now neatly-wrapped packages.
“I’ve got a plan,” she says, trying to quell the anxiety in her gut. She’s really not good with not being good enough. “I need your help, though,” she says.
He shrugs. “Cool, what do I need to do?”
____________________________________________________________________________
Nick is waiting for Jess when she gets home from volunteering at the soup kitchen.
“Hey Jess, I need your help with something,” he says. He’s a bad liar, but she’s too distracted by untangling her apron to notice.
“Whatever it is, it can wait. I need a shower so bad,” she says exhaustedly.
“Actually, that’s perfect. The thing I need help with is in the bathroom,” the bathroom that he’s been keeping the other occupants of the apartment out of for the past thirty minutes.
“Don’t tell me it’s clogged again -” Jess says, opening the door with a worried expression.
“Oh my god,” she says, staring at the candles lit all around the tub, and the rose petals leading to the already bubbly bath. There’s even a glass of wine already poured, and a note.
“Did you do this?” Jess asks, eyes watering with unshed tears.
“Just read,” Nick says, shutting the door behind him.
“Jess -
Relax, enjoy a glass of your favorite wine, unwind. I’ll be there in two hours to pick you up. Don’t worry about what to wear, there’s something for you on your bed.
See you soon,
Reagan”
Jess smiles softly, undressing quickly and sinking into the bath, moaning as the wine hits her tongue and her muscles relax into the warm bath.
She keeps an eye on the time, too excited to stay in the bath for more than thirty minutes.
She enters her bedroom happily wrapped in a towel, a smile on her face as she sees the various boxes, all tied up with red ribbon.
The first is jewelry again, this time a golden necklace with a beautiful but simple red gem dangling from it, a matching set of earrings sitting alongside it in the velvet box.
Reagan really likes spoiling her. The thought warms her cheeks. She’s always been an independent person, trying to provide for herself so no one else has to.
It feels good letting someone else take care of her for once.
The next box makes her heart beat nearly out of her chest.
It’s lingerie, fine red lace with tiny golden stitches. There’s a scrap of lace that counts as panties, and a beautifully made bra, simple and softer than anything she’s ever owned.
She puts it on without questioning what’s in the third box, knowing it will go perfectly with the lingerie, whatever it is.
She’s right.
When she opens it, her breath leaves her lungs in a rush.
It’s the type of dress she would never buy for herself, daring and bold, luxuriously crafted. All the things she doesn’t usually have the confidence or income to wear.
She pulls on the red dress, marveling at how the satin hugs perfectly to her curves, the sweetheart neckline cutting dangerously low but fitting her so perfectly that she doesn’t worry about it falling.
The skirt of the dress is long, clinging to her hips before flaring out again in a flowy mermaid tail, a long slit showing off her long legs.
Jess looks in the mirror, feeling sexier than she ever has before.
She leaves her hair loose around her shoulders. She loves when Reagan plays with it.
When she’s satisfied with her makeup, she opens the final box. There’s a sinfully soft faux rabbit (Reagan would have no doubt bought her real rabbit if she wasn’t opposed to animal furs) stole, fastened with a golden clip, and a pair of red heels with gold straps meant to be tied around her ankles.
She finishes off her outfit, glancing at the time.
She’s overshot, taking five minutes later than Reagan’s planned time.
She hurries out the bedroom door, pleased to see Reagan waiting for her with Nick in the living room, quietly chatting amongst themselves.
“Wow,” Nick says, eyes wide and appreciative.
“You look incredible,” Reagan says, eyes hungry as she looks from Jess’s heels to her necklace and back again.
“Thank you,” Jess says, cheeks flushed as she looks between the two of them, finally settling on Reagan. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” She says nervously, eyes momentarily stuck on the sharp V at the top of Reagan’s dress.
“There’s one more box,” Reagan says, holding out a slim package.
Jess opens it, tugging slowly at the ribbon. Inside are tickets for The Nutcracker ballet, set to start an hour in the future.
“This is amazing,” she says honestly, wiping at her teary eyes, careful not to smear her mascara.
“Shall we?” Reagan asks, smiling happily at Jess, completely relieved now that her plan had gone off successfully.
____________________________________________________________________________
Christmas morning dawns happily over the apartment. Reagan wakes up to Nick groaning and Jess jumping on the bed, in full christmas pajama attire, a change from how she’d gone to bed, which was nude.
Reagan wishes she was still naked. But right now Jess is bubbly and has that sparkle in her eyes, so Reagan settles back into her satisfaction.
“Why couldn’t we do this not in the morning time?” Nick whines.
“Shut up, she brought cinnamon buns,” Reagan says happily, taking the plate and coffee that Jess offers her.
“Thank you baby,” Reagan says, kissing Jess on the cheek before tucking into the fresh-baked roll, moaning at the flavor.
“Did you put cinnamon in the coffee?” Nick asks, sipping and looking much more pleased than he did a moment before.
“Yes, also yours is basically just cream and sugar,” she says.
“It’s like cereal milk without the cereal,” he says appreciatively, “You know me so well.”
“I know,” Jess says, beaming at the two of them as she places pristinely wrapped boxes in front of them.
“I would have been satisfied with the cinnamon buns as a present,” Reagan says honestly, squeezing Jess’s hand.
“Oh, I know. Open the box,” Jess says with a smug smile.
They both open their presents. Nick grins, holding a personalized leather laptop case. “This is amazing. I’m going to look like a real author now. How did you know?”
“You once described what a ‘real author’ looks like to me. You were very specific about the briefcase,” Jess replies easily, accepting a soft, slightly teary kiss from Nick as thanks.
“It’s perfect,” he says, trying and failing to not cry as he runs his finger over the engraved letters that read, “Det. Julius Pepperwood”.
“Wow,” Reagan says, looking down at her gift heavily. She’s really not good at emotional things, gifts or otherwise.
“Don’t worry. I know what you like too,” Jess says, which helps but not all the way. She’s still nervous as she pulls the ribbon and begins unwrapping the package.
Reagan opens the box, finally letting out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding in.
“Cinnamon rolls,” she says, lifting the box to inhale deeply. She notices an extra scent, and lifts the foil pan, revealing four bags of her favorite coffee.
“So you don’t have to pretend to like my coffee anymore,” Jess says with a smirk.
“Yours is -” Reagan stops the white lie in the wake of Jess’s pointed look. “Okay, it’s terrible. It’s so burnt.”
“Then why did you drink so much of it?” Jess fires back, amused. “You could have told me!”
“I like seeing your bedhead in the mornings. I was afraid you’d stop making me coffee if I complained,” Reagan says.
“Oh,” the smug look finally falls off Jess’s face, replaced by a shy smile and flushed cheeks. “I would never do that,” she adds. “I like how soft you are in the mornings.”
“Sounds like I’m really missing out on the whole morning coffee thing,” Nick says thoughtfully.
“You’re not invited,” Reagan says definitively.
Nick frowns. “Wait, so you guys get to have side things? I want side things,” he pouts at them both.
They both roll their eyes, but crack immediately nevertheless. “Okay, negotiation time,” Reagan says, shrugging. “We have football and the cigar club.”
Nick nods thoughtfully. “True. Any objections, Jess?”
Jess holds up a finger. “I would never step foot inside that smoke pit, don’t worry about that one. However, I do reserve the right to be involved in any potential football watching themed parties that could potentially have a theme and a reason to bake.”
“Easy yes from me. Reagan?” Nick asks. She nods.
“Agreed. I smoke cigars with you, have coffee with Jess, and we all have football parties,” she says, ticking off the points on her fingers as she lists them.
“I like this agreement,” Jess says, wiggling happily in place.
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