Time Warp: Incomprehensible Demand

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

July, 2025
Set directly after; I Need a Saviour

Really, Lucy felt concern for her best friend. She knew Sawyer had a massive task ahead of her. But she wouldn't have asked her to handle something so imperative if she didn't think she could. She was Sawyer. She could take on the Serrano-Blaise collective household. Right?

Lucy was just glad she wasn't there. And that the families had no way of knowing where they were going.

Besides, she was dealing with a problem of her own.

The Australian wasn't sure how long they'd been on the plane heading the hell out of America. She never had a penchant for time, really. That was Penny's thing. But Lucy definitely knew it'd been a few hours, and they hadn't spoken. She was getting various vibes from her counterpart, and the ink manipulator wasn't sure which was more prominent. Whatever it was, she was definitely on edge.

Closing her eyes, Lucy leaned back in her seat and breathed an audible sigh with purpose.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

They’d been on the plane from New York for two hours, forty-seven minutes. That left fourteen hours, forty-three minutes left of their flight. That was too long to be stuck on an airplane with her newly wed wife sitting next to her. It was torture, even.

She was tense. It was clear in how she held herself. Even as they sat, the Brit’s posture was perfect. Legs crossed. Lips pressed into a hard line as her dark eyes scanned the travel book on Naples she bought at the airport.

Penelope refused to touch Lucy, and kept to the space of her own seat as she continued reading in silence. It wasn’t until she heard the audible sigh from her counterpart that she acknowledged her for the first time in about an hour and a half.

Still, she didn’t even look at the Australian.

Instead, she clicked her tongue lightly as she flipped to the next page of the book. Restaurants. She was already planning out their meals for the two weeks they’d be staying in the city.

“This is your fault.” She stated softly. Factually. Frustration was prominent in her tone.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Of course, Lucy was acutely aware of the lack of contact. It made things a lot more difficult. Because it wasn't a thing, it automatically was. So she'd breathed a sigh with obvious intention, knowing it would get picked up on. And she was right.

She didn't look at her either as she heard the familiar click of her tongue. Absently, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

Her eyes snapped open instantly when the declaration left her mouth. She dropped her jaw, intent on saying something definite as a response, but nothing came through. She was surprised. Overtly so.

"What?" She asked quickly, "How? It's-" Fumbling over her words, she made sure her gaze was fixed upwards rather than on her. She raised her hands, instinctively gesturing to herself. Physically asking for clarity when such words failed her... Until she resided to the fact that she had no fault to wear; "You're pissed at me already?"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Finally, Penny tore her gaze from the book in her hands, raising her eyebrows at her counterpart. Was she really confused on the matter? Her lips pursed as she considered ignoring the Australian and returning to her book for another fourteen hours, but she continued to watch as Lucy's eyes shifted up.

When the ink manipulator gestured to herself, Penny's own gaze traveled downward to her wife's hands. She really was confused. The Brit straightened her back, sucking in a short, frustrated breath. Something about Lucy being oblivious just made the entire situation that much more worse.

Her eyes traveled upward, pausing briefly on Lucy's lips. This was unbearable. Her head snapped forward as she flipped to the next page of her book, jaw clenching briefly before she spoke again; “You shouldn't have called Sawyer back.” It was barely an explanation, but it was one nonetheless. "So yes, I am."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy could feel Penny's eyes on her, and it was incredibly difficult not to look back at her. The weight of her gaze was profound, and she knew that already. If she looked at her, she felt as if she'd lose whatever this was.

The ink manipulator felt her own eyebrows twitch when she heard a short, frustrated inhale from her counterpart. She was acutely aware of her breathing. Even if she sounded frustrated, it was absolutely impossible to ignore.

Right when Penny looked away, Lucy turned to look at her. Her gaze traversed the line of her face, catching the tension she wore in her jaw. But the words didn't make sense to her. Without Sawyer, they wouldn't have been able to get out of that situation, and now she was practically cursing her?

Lucy breathed a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. There was no way she was wearing any blame here, especially for something she didn't understand. Resting a hand on the armrest between them, she turned it to face her palm up, waiting for familiar fingers to find the space between her own.

Because this was ridiculous; "I didn't do anything."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope tried her best to keep focused on the book, but the words on the page failed to capture the psychometrist's attention. She felt acutely aware of the presence next to her. Even as she kept her gaze fixed on the book, she knew Lucy was looking at her.

Her lips pressed into a hard line as she heard Lucy's laugh. Penny knew well enough by now what that laugh meant. She could practically see the Australian shaking her head, which only caused Penny to let out another frustrated breath.

When she felt the Australian shift, she glanced over to the arm rest, catching sight of the hand waiting to be taken. Her fingers involuntarily twitched. She wanted to reach out to her counterpart. It felt natural to do so, even if Lucy wasn't expectantly waiting for Penny to take her hand she usually found herself seeking it out. Still, she didn't move; instead, her fingers tightened on the book in her hands.

“Exactly.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy watched the way Penny seemed to struggle through what she would deem an involuntary decision. Her hand was there, waiting to be taken. And she was ignoring that. Lucy glanced down at her wife's hand, picking up the way she seemed to twitch. Like she wanted to, but she couldn't.

She wouldn't look at her. She wouldn't reach out to her. The severity of the single word she offered was just as jarring as these two facts alone. Lucy opened her mouth to speak; to press the issue of her confusion.

Until she realised what was going on. Or rather, she thought she did.

Her fingers curled into a fist, intent on stretching the muscles idly before she turned her hand again. Her hand made a definite point of holding onto the arm rest.

"Why won't you touch me?" She asked curiously, keeping her eyes on the Brit as all confusion had drained from her tone. She was searching for something.

An answer she was sure she already had.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Proximity was always an issue for the pairing. It was hard to stop once even the slightest contact was made. A simple holding of the hand could quickly turn into an awkward explanation about why the two of them went into the same washroom.

Her eyes flicked up towards the restroom sign, lingering on it briefly before she shook her head lightly in disbelief at herself. No. Her gaze traveled back to Lucy's hand, making note of how the Australian decided to claim the arm rest for herself.

Penny raised her eyebrows at the change in tone in Lucy's voice, and she couldn't help but to roll her eyes. Penny was positive the Australian figured it out. She snapped the book shut, turning slightly in her seat to face her counterpart.

“You know why.” Penny shot back, her tone lacking any form of amusement.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy found herself relatively oblivious to the way in which her counterpart's gaze moved. She primarily expected her to look away because it was easier to do so. Proximity was a killer, yes. But so was eye contact. Penny didn't need to physically connect with her for her to understand the vein of frustration they were sharing. Sometimes it was all articulated in a look.

She watched the way she shifted in her seat slightly, granting the ink manipulator some well deserved eye contact. But Lucy couldn't help the way the corner of her mouth pulled into a grin when she spoke. Of course she knew why.

Besides, she was feeling it too. The fact that her wife couldn't keep her mind off such a subject was - quite possibly - more intoxicating than if she'd managed physical contact.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Lucy asked, raising her eyebrows once.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Making eye contact was a bad decision for Penelope, and as her dark eyes met with Lucy's she knew she had made a mistake. There was so much that didn't need to be verbalized between them; all it took was shared look to express the pent up frustration Penny felt. That they both felt.

That grin received an audible sigh from the psychometrist. Lucy knew what that grin did to the Brit, and that day was no exception to the rule – if anything, it made matters worse.

“You know what I want you to do about it.” she stated with irritation. The amusement her counterpart wore only added to her frustration; that look was annoying and intoxicating at the same time. Quickly, she shifted again, pressing her straightened back to the seat.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

There. Lucy found herself practically plagued by that look. Whatever this was, she suddenly felt as if she was losing it. And that wasn't something she liked feeling, much less admitting to.

She heard the way Penny breathed. She found it distracting. But she felt just as determined not to let it be so.

But it was her statement that pushed Lucy more. She knew her counterpart had chosen her words carefully, but that within itself was such a driving factor. Her breath caught in her throat momentarily, but she did her best to push through it; exhaling heavily moments afterwards. Fourteen hours of this?

"I do know." Lucy replied simply, drawing her hand away before she even dared to make contact. Leaning into the seat again, she exhaled another sigh and glanced up. "Point made." She added quietly, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip again. Her curiosity was successfully backfiring.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It wasn't lost on the Brit how Lucy's breath caught in her throat momentarily. The way she forced the breath out heavily. Penny's lips pressed into a hard line as she brought a hand up, pinching the bridge of her nose as she let out her own short breath. At least the feeling was mutual, but knowing that the ink manipulator was frustrated was distracting. It added fuel to her own annoyance of the situation.

She caught sight of Lucy's hand drawing away, and she naturally wanted to reach out for it. It was rare for the Brit to not do so, but she knew well enough by now that even the slightest bit of contact would be detrimental when stuck on this monastery of a plane they were stuck on for the next fourteen hours.

As Lucy spoke, Penny's tried her best to ignore the tightening of her chest. Again, she shifted her gaze over to Lucy. She couldn't help but to look at her, even if she knew the dangers of doing so. Her eyes dropped down to catch sight of Lucy's teeth sink into her lower lip. The Brit clearly tensed at the sight, sucking in a quick breath. “Stop that.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy was incredibly lucky that Penny didn't follow the normality. That she didn't reach out to her. By now, she wasn't sure how well that idea would have gone for either of them. This always happened. She found herself getting a little burned the second she started messing around with this kind of fire. It was an idiotic move on her part, really. But she could never help herself.

It was worse when she quickly realised that Penny was looking at her again. She was making a point now, of not looking directly at her. Not moving to catch or maintain eye contact.

But the demand she offered caused Lucy to drop her lip on a slow burning exhale. "I can't." The ink manipulator retorted sharply, though she dropped her voice low. She didn't really want to snap at her loudly. That didn't seem fair. Lucy moved to rest her arm on the arm rest again, her fingers tapping across the metal in a frustrated manner. She pressed her lips into a line.

Slowly, her hand shifted slightly, away from the arm rest and towards her, hovering over the space above her thigh. But she wouldn't make contact. She didn't make another move in her direction; "You stop."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The sharpness of Lucy's tone caused Penny to raise her eyebrows, her grip on the book tightening to the point where it put a crease in the pages. She caught herself, however, and forced herself to loosen her grip, running her thumb over the crease mark, still keeping her eyes fixed on the Australian in the next seat. The act did nothing to fix the crease in the book or her frustration with the situation at hand.

This was impossible.

When she caught sight of Lucy's hand hover over her thigh, Penny's eyes widened slightly. She kept her eyes on Lucy's hand, focusing on the band around her ring finger; she couldn't help but to suck in an involuntary breath, a smile tugging at her lips even in her irritation. Even so, she was quickly brought back when she realized that Lucy was threatening her with physical contact.

“Don't you dare.” she breathed, her voice lowering. Part of her wanted to feel the familiar fingers on her skin, but she knew very well that if she did so, the rest of this agonizingly long plane ride would be brutal. “I'm not doing anything.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy's gaze only wavered from her hand to look to her face and gather her reaction. She watched the way her attention dropped; focusing on the hand that hung above her thigh. The smile that pulled at the psychometrist's mouth was difficult to ignore. This was impossible.

Her lowered voice forced Lucy's breath to catch for a second. Even that was unfair.

"You're you." Lucy offered in return. Really, Penny didn't need to do anything. Her existence was enough. Their new found status, more so. "I can't-"

The rest of her sentence dropped away as her hand lowered. Just a little, but it was enough; her fingertips brushed momentarily along the exposed skin of her thigh, across the hem line of her dress before lifting away again. And instinctively, she looked up to catch whatever expression she wore.