A/N: this fic is entirely thanks to chrismcvie
Christine threw her coat haphazardly onto the rack, pressing her hand against the paper bag from the restaurant, checking it was still cold as she walked through the hallway into the kitchen. The huge glass patio doors were open, leading out into the garden and for once, she hadn't been greeted by the dogs, so she walked through to the patio, grinning as she was greeted by her favourite sight in the world.
She joined the blue-haired woman sat on the patio chairs, leaning across to press a kiss to her rosy cheek. Startled, she turned around, smiling sweetly when she saw Christine,
"I wasn't expecting you until eight!"
"I had to come home and see my beautiful wife, right?"
"You saw me this morning- and the day before- and the day before that- and the-"
"I always want to see you, Indy," she shook her head, "I brought you a treat, have you eaten dinner yet?"
"Yeah," Indigo put down her pen, "Why?"
"I brought dessert."
"This better be real dessert and not one of your weird euphemisms for sex, Chrissy, you know I'm craving sugar again."
"It is, princess, don't worry," she chuckled, "But you have to give me a kiss first."
"Is this bribery now? You my sugar daddy?"
"As if I need to bribe you," Christine laughed as Indigo stood and moved to sit on her lap, careful not to wake the golden retriever sprawled out at her feet and securely closing her sketchbook.
She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Christine deepened it, opening her mouth, tasting cranberry juice and lingering mint on her lips. Indigo smirked and tossed her hair over her shoulder, wriggling back until Christine groaned softly. She leaned closer to kiss her exposed neck as Indigo took the opportunity to wrap her arms around her shoulders and deeply inhale the scent of Christine's perfume, feeling at home again. Once she was settled, Christine unwrapped dessert, bringing the spoon to her lips and watching as her eyes closed in delight.
"That good, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Still wish I could have persuaded you to come with me. You'd have loved it there."
"You need time to yourself sometimes," Indigo said, licking her lips, "Besides, you love coming home to me."
Christine eyed her low cut, loose blouse,
"Yeah, I do."
Rolling her eyes, Indigo undid another button on her blouse, letting it fall open and give her an even better view of her bare chest. Christine shook herself quickly and tore her eyes away from her wife's breasts,
"Did you have a good day?"
"Yeah, you wanna see what I did?"
"I always do."
She pulled her sketchbook over and flipped through the pages, showing her sketches of the dogs at her feet and ones of them playing in the garden, others of the roses growing against the wall and some of the budding sunflowers they'd planted last year.
"You've had a busy day then, these are gorgeous!"
"I confirmed a show for the end of the month too," she looked up, "They saw my work in the post you made when we came out and wanted to see my college stuff."
"That's brilliant," Christine smiled, "I love that stuff."
"Will you help me choose what's going in it?"
"Of course," Christine played with a loose strand of her hair, "Gotta keep it clean right? Take all those nudes you have of us out."
"They were artful nudes!" she exclaimed playfully, "You looked so cute when I painted your boobs!"
"But nobody wants to see my breasts," Christine laughed, "Even if they did have beautiful sunflowers painted on them."
"Everyone does," Indigo giggled, "They're good breasts."
It was getting dark out when Christine patted Indigo's thigh and suggested thy went inside for the night. By the time they were both ready for bed (and the dogs had been rounded up and curled up at the foot of their bed), it was pitch black. Indigo turned off the bedside light and her hand reached out for Christine's, on autopilot after so many years of this routine, until she slipped into bed behind her and held onto her waist. Christine pressed her torso up against her back and rubbed her hip gently. She thought of all the nights they had spent time this and wondered why Indigo's body seemed tense and fragile, like she could break in her arms.
"Indigo?"
"Yeah."
"Are you happy?"
She didn't respond for a moment, turning to face Christine. Her face was barely visible through the dim light seeping through the curtains, but Christine could see the tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm so happy-" she whispered, "I'm so happy with you, but I felt so lost without you today."
"I thought so," she said sadly, "The last time you got through fifteen pages was a very bad day, I remember how it was, baby."
"I didn't know what else to do to numb it."
"Next time, call me, yeah? You're always my priority."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, love," she kissed her forehead, "How about we get some sleep and talk about it in the morning?"
Indigo turned back over, melting into Christine's arms and curling tightly against her.
"This makes me the happiest woman in the world," she whispered, "Our life here. I'm so happy here with you."
"Me too."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
