Title: Steal the Covers

Author: Sarah (surrendersomething)

Characters: Kirsten & Sandy

Rating: K+

Spoilers: absolutely none, set pre-season 1

Disclaimer: yada yada. All I own is a vast amount of clothes and shoes, to be honest.

Notes: I just can't stop the writing thing. This one was initially inspired by a line from Sandi Thom's "What if I'm Right?" and was further inspired by a line from "You Give me Something" by James Morrison; & I had to try my hand at the Berkeley thing. Muchos thanks to Sammie & Anna for reading & giving advice!

Steal the Covers

He didn't steal the covers.

It was the first thing that alerted her to the idea that maybe, this was different.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing. Such a life changing decision could not simply be based on such a trivial matter.

But it was true. Jimmy had always stolen the covers, as did the large majority of her friends. Waking up frozen at 2am was one of her pet hates… but slowly, she had begun to think it was normal. So when she woke up toasty and warm at 9am the morning after they'd first shared the same bed, she'd assumed she was alone in her own tiny little room.

But then he'd rolled over, wrapped an arm around her waist and murmured a sleepy greeting in her ear.

She hadn't even slept with him properly; but she already knew it was different.

Then there was the first time he waited up for her. Spending Sunday mornings lying in bed together had become routine for them; and when she took on extra Saturday night waitressing shifts, he'd had her a key cut and told her to let herself in when she was done. Her first extra shift had finished a little after midnight, and she'd crept into the poky little flat in the dark, nearly jumping out of her skin when he appeared in the bedroom doorway, informing her that he'd waited up because he wanted to spend some time with her.

They still hadn't slept together.

The innocence of it all was exhilarating. Both of them out of serious relationships, there was something of an unspoken consensus that theirs was a relationship not to be rushed. Her friends teased her, but they all secretly wished they could have a relationship like that of Kirsten and Sandy. His friends stuck to sarcastic digs, but were all secretly jealous.

Because there was an intimacy there that no one could deny.

And suddenly, it was less innocent. She found herself stopping herself… and by some unspoken agreement, they both wanted it to be perfect. Neither bought into the fairytale, clichéd romance she read about in trashy novels; but they didn't want it to be some drunken mistake. They wanted it to mean something, and if that meant waiting… well, the anticipation was good enough for both of them.

Of course, they did sleep together eventually.

It wasn't all flowers and candles and soft romantic music. But it was amazing… and the fact that she was beginning to think she could spend the rest of her life with this one man made it electric. Every time he touched her she had the urge to drag him somewhere private… and she lost count of the number of times she acted on that urge.

It was a big part of their relationship, but not the only part. She'd always felt that a relationship which began purely physically would never go far, and whilst theirs didn't exactly prove that right, it definitely showed her how important she found everything else they had.

The fact that a hug from him could make everything better; the fact that they never ran out of things to say… and the simple fact that she loved him.

The first time he told her he loved her, it had slipped out casually – he hadn't even noticed until he caught her grinning like a schoolgirl. The first time she'd returned the sentiment it had been quietly; when he'd found her in floods of tears after an argument with her father.

He didn't pretend to understand her family – their backgrounds couldn't have been more different, but he was her never ending source of comfort when things did go wrong. He didn't particularly like her family either, but that was a different matter. Besides, she wasn't too keen on his mother either, if the truth be told.

It was unspoken, but they both knew family would never come between them.

That's not to say their relationship was perfect, though. They fought. Of course they fought – she would've worried if they didn't. But there was something different about their arguments. Something that gave her the confidence to shout and scream and cry, because she knew that once all that was done there would still be a relationship. Their friends all joked that they fought so much simply because they loved the making up; but the truth was that they fought because they were strong enough to.

Not that the making up was a bad aspect, of course.

It was funny though; that every time she thought about their relationship, she always came back to the one simple fact that he didn't steal the covers. It was a tiny, insignificant detail – when she'd mentioned it to him, there was laughter in his voice as he pulled her into his arms and told her he loved her, but for some reason it was the justification she kept coming back to.

And then she realised. He might not steal the covers; but he had stolen her heart.