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“So, how’s Kate?” Pam asks as Theresa enters the room, tapping a message or something to someone, head bent, and she hopes that that will keep her from noticing the blush that spreads across her cheeks, because everyone has started doing it, this asking how Kate is like they’re… involved. And they’re not. Not how Pam means with her smirking at her as she mumbles something inaudible in response, and not how Ben means when he tries to subtly ask about Kate when Kate isn’t in the house.
“What was that?” Pam’s smirking, and she looks so pleased with herself, and Theresa is glad she has something else to concentrate on so she only has to see that with her peripheral vision.
"I said, she's fine, I think."
"Good, good. And how are you?"
"I'm fine," her tone is wary; she hasn't forgotten about Pam's counseling qualifications, but Pam just smiles and rolls her eyes - this exchange is near identical every morning, right down to the mumbling.
It's not until later that Pam decides to bring Kate up again, when they've been sat staring at their tablets for a good hour (everything runs smoothly practically by itself at this point - the only thing to monitor is the Abbies and they're not doing anything out of the ordinary).
"You should ask her out on a date."
"What?!" Theresa's head jerks up from where she was intensely reading a boring memo about sewage or something similarly uninteresting, and her cheeks are already filled in with pink before she can get any further. "Kate? Why would I -" she scrambles.
"I don't need to psychoanalyse you to be aware that there's something between you," Pam is smirking again and Theresa mostly just wants to sink into a puddle on the floor, melted down by the heat in her cheeks.
"I can't believe you even mentioned this, we're just friends," she sounds firm, sure, but Pam is voicing worries and doubts that she's only been able to think about in the middle of the night, when she's considered that her relationship with Kate may be more than just bonding over a traumatic event, when she's wondered why she looks at Kate the way she does (she's not sure she wants to know the answer).
"Friends that look after Ben together, and live together, in a format where the two of you have adopted traditional Mother and Father roles."
"But I'm not," she paused, uncomfortable. "Gay?"
"It doesn't mean you are - sexuality is much more complicated than that."
"Now you're definitely psychoanalysing me," Theresa sounds more frustrated than before, and she almost wants to talk this over with Pam, to tell someone who also knows Kate, not just the therapist she'd been assigned that she'd never actually seen outside his practice.
"I'm trying to help." Pam responds but Theresa can't help but think that actually she's just as menacing as she was three years ago (it's a persona Pam maintains) and receiving "help" on this personal a subject seemed unlikely, even with the friendship (or something) that they had developed.
"Just because I think Kate is attractive and enjoy her company does not mean that I am interested in entering into a relationship with her."
"Aren't those the things that people look for in life partners - a connection and healthy attraction? You two are already there, from the looks of things.”
“Surely if I was interested in women I’d know?” Theresa tried, running out of excuses as it started to make more sense than she would like - she was rather enjoying the idea of getting to hold hands with Kate, and honestly going on a date with her actually sounded fun.
“Theresa, how do you feel about spending the rest of your life with Kate?” she fought back a sigh - compulsory heterosexuality got to everyone in the end.
“Well that’s completely different to taking her out on a date, I mean we’re already doing that,” Theresa stuttered, and seemed to have to visibly shake herself to get started again. “Kate’s straight,” she managed, and Pam almost started laughing, but stayed with smirking knowingly.
“That’s your final argument? Because we both know that if you were to mention it to Kate, and asked her on date, and she didn’t want to go, she wouldn’t let it affect the relationship the two of you have now.”
Theresa’s tablet pinged with something utterly unimportant, but she read it with a creased brow and used it as an excuse to get out of the room as soon as she could, and tried to ignore the smirk that followed her out of the room.
When Theresa gets home Kate is already there, spread out across one of the sofas with her eyes closed, and it makes Theresa worry that she isn't getting enough sleep. She lingers in the doorway, just looking, and tries to ignore the way her eyes linger almost as though they have a life of their own, and when she finally tears herself away from the room she has to admit that she looks back at her, cheekbones high and dappled with light from the setting sun, lashes long and dark, hair splayed out across the arm of the sofa. Theresa hurries away, and decides not to think about it.
Theresa's loathe to wake her later, when the room is dark and dinner's almost ready, but she already knows that Kate's going to find it impossible to sleep before 2am as it is, and that if she let's her stay on the sofa she'll complain about backache tomorrow. As Theresa approaches she turns on the table lamps but not the main lights, so as not to startle her, and she crouches in front of the sofa for a long moment, and listens to her breathing, and maybe marvels at how they are both here, alive, in these circumstances, and she is maybe falling in love.
"Kate?" she tries, gently pushing at her arm, trying to wake her slowly; she's seen Kate jerk out of sleep enough times to know not to surprise her.
"Hmm?" Kate manages, and she rolls over onto her side, facing Theresa, her eyes still closed, and she looks as though she's ready to just go straight back to sleep.
"You need to get up, you've been asleep since I came home, and you won't sleep tonight," Theresa tries her best Mum Voice, the one that she uses when Ben’s being particularly stubborn, but Kate just groans at her and buries her head in the sofa. “I made lasagna and if you don’t get up I’m sure Ben will be happy to eat yours,” she pulls out her trump card and laughs as Kate raises her head, eyelids fluttering as she attempts to pull herself awake.
“There’s lasagna?” Her voice is sleep roughened and her words a little slurred with tiredness, but when Theresa nods she sits up, rubbing at her eyes, yawning, and stretches in a way that makes Theresa avert her eyes so she doesn’t stare.
“You can lay the table then, as you’re awake.” She makes sure to keep her voice light, and she makes eye contact as she stands, smiling as Kate yawns again, admiring the way that one side of her hair is flat from where she was laying on it, and how creased her blouse is. Kate stands too, still looking sleepy and cute as hell, and Theresa turns quickly and doesn't think about what Pam said.
"Are you okay? You seem kind of... Jumpy?" Kate asks a few days later, after another occasion where Theresa had flinched a little when Kate had got a little too close, and she mentally berates herself as she attempts to give a satisfactory answer, annoyed that Kate had noticed but more annoyed at herself for being obvious.
"What? No, I'm fine," she says, trying to continue eating her breakfast in peace, glad that Ben had already gone to school and didn't have to witness what she was fervently hoping wasn't going to turn into a confession.
"Are you sure? Because if there's something going on, something safety related, I'd like to know?"
"What? No no everything's fine we're all fine," she said quickly, and she's not surprised that that was what Kate had assumed - from what she'd seen Kate wasn't the sort of person to consider feelings first.
"I'd like to help, whatever it is?" She even pushes her coffee to the side to reach over and put her hand over Theresa's, and when Theresa flips her hand over to interlink their fingers she smiles, even as Theresa slightly regrets it, and she hopes her palm isn't sweaty because apparently she's turned into a fourteen year old.
"I'm not really sure you can," she sighs, and looks at Kate for a long moment, who looks earnest and like she wants to help, and not at all like she regrets starting this conversation before she'd finished her second coffee, which Theresa's sure she will soon. "I just," she paused again, struggling, looking at their hands, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm not sure how you'll react."
"You're stalling," Kate notes with a smile, and squeezes her fingers lightly, trying to be reassuring. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." She tries not to think of the things it could be, like that Theresa is no longer happy living with her, or that Ben doesn't want her here, or something that means that she doesn't get to come home and fall asleep on the sofa and have Theresa wake her up with that small smile, laughing at the way that her hair is all ruffled and her eyes feel glued shut, or that she won't get to see Theresa in the mornings, or eat Theresa's lasagna anymore.
"I've been struggling with some... Feelings," she manages, and Kate thinks oh no this is it when Theresa doesn't continue.
"If you're not comfortable with me being here any more then I can go, your comfort is more impor-" But she's interrupted by Theresa shaking her head, and looking exasperated.
"You always jump to the worst conclusions, no it's not that I promise, it'll never be that. Actually it's kind of the opposite of that," she admits with a small, wry smile, and is slightly disappointed by how confused Kate still looks, and decides to put them both out of their misery. "What I'm trying to say is, I kind of think I've fallen in love with you." It comes out in a rush, and Kate's facial expression barely changes, apart from to look more confused.
"But I thought - you're straight?"
"So did I, but of course I totally understand if you are, and if you're not interested." Theresa's bright red, and she tries to retract her hand, which she was looking at instead of at Kate, but Kate holds on tight.
"No, erm," she laughs, nervously, and when Theresa looks up she's also bright red, and looks like she doesn't know what to say. "I, well, that's actually kind of good because me too."
And they're left staring across the table at each other, bright red, holding hands, like they don't know where to go from here.
"Oh." Theresa just looks at her, for another moment, and then she smiles, and Kate smiles back, and then they're just grinning, and Kate looks beautiful, as always, so Theresa does the one thing she could think to do in this situation, and leans across the table to kiss her, just soft and quick, to test the water, and Kate follows her as she pulls away, swaying across the table like a flower towards sunlight.
"I suppose I should ask you on a date," Kate says with a smile, and Theresa laughs, pleased and surprised.
"So long as you don't cook."
"I wouldn't dream of putting you through that."
They're still smiling and holding hands when Kate's tablet buzzes, and when she checks it she realises they're both late for work.
"We're going to be so late," she mutters, and they both stand, rounding the table shyly, and Theresa lingers while Kate quickly finishes her now cold coffee, and when she comes to a stop next to her after putting the empty cup in the sink they return to blushing and looking awkward.
"We're going to have to talk about this more," Theresa says, looking at her shoes.
"We are," Kate pauses. "I've never done this before, the dating someone I was already basically married to."
Theresa laughs brightly, meeting her eyes again. "I'm pretty sure it's the same, just with more kissing."
"That sounds agreeable," she smiles, and leans in, and it's still short, like they're testing, and it's still awkward like a first kiss, but they're both grinning as they leave the house.