Trigger warning: blood, drugging

The sound of ice skidding underfoot made Serena yelp and grab onto the frost coated metal mailbox with one desperate hand, the other clutching at the cling wrap clad paper plate of goods in the other. Serena’s heart beat hammered away in her chest, like a loose hummingbird in a cage as she regained her composure, cursing harsh words at the bleak slick patch of ice that had caught her feet by surprise. It was the dead of winter, the time when the snow was crusted over enough to get away with ditching the pesky cleats, which of course were left on the floor of Serena’s mildly messy blue Sedan.

With ginger footsteps, she carefully climbed up the driveway, freshly scattered with chunks of salt that had melted the pavement enough for her to toe by the dainty miniature statues of garden gnomes in santa hats and the thick red and gold bows that were nailed up to the side of the house. The Wilson’s home was always well prepared for the winter festivities, with small quirky things here and there, having a home that looked like it belonged in homely holiday postcards or painted Christmas cards. Serena managed to make it up to the porch safely and knocked on the door politely, checking her box made sugar cookies for damage, the frosting on a few bells were slopily smeared, but the mistletoe cookies were still in good shape. 

The sound of twinkling bells caught Serena’s attention as the door swung open. Michelle Wilson stood at the front door entrance, all pearly white in a lottery fleece sweater, her pants a dark red and green plaid and a tasteful glittery silver necklace hung low around her neck. She smiled widely at Serena, a stemless wine glass in one hand as she opened the door wider.

“Serena! Oh I am so glad you made it!” Michelle exclaimed, ushering Serena into the gaping warmth of her home, “we were hoping you’d show up!”

The inside of Michelle’s house always appeared as one would think it would, quilted tapestries and framed photos of family members hung up on style walls painted in warm hues. There was a candle wax burner next to the front door that smacked Serena’s nostrils with the scent of peppermint and lavender. From the living room, Serena heard a caterwauling of laughter from the other guests as she took off her shoes and hung up her coat. 

“Well I couldn’t miss a Wilson Cookie Social, what would the neighbors think?” Serena lowered her voice, not masking the sarcasm that dripped off of her words.

Michelle’s blue eyes twinkled with laughter as she placed a beige manicured hand on Serena’s arm, snickering at the comment. Serena had known Michelle for a few years, when Serena’s late mother passed away at the Wilson’s and the church helped fund the funeral. As typically Christian the Wilson’s were with their stunning blue eyes and long dark tresses of brunette hair, lovely homes and all the accoutrements, they were a very open sort of people. The kind of religious that worked in kind ways that never asked for anything in return. They were not the religious type, the Adams were not the type of people that went to church, Sundays were spent working and spending the evenings watching movies. Serena used to have a distaste towards them and never understood why Gertrude, her mother, was friends with Michelle’s father; until she had gotten to know Michelle. She was very sweet and quick to be patient with Serena’s weak heart at the time and stubborn attitude about the arrangements, grief bonded them quickly. There were friends and then there was Michelle, patient and willing to deal with Serena’s grief at her lowest and she would always be grateful for it.

“Oh it’s not so bad, Lora brought deviled eggs so at least you have the advantage of bragging about being on theme,” Michelle tapped her finger on the cookie plate, “come on now, let me get you something to drink, it’s a party!”

Serena followed after Michelle in tow to the main hub of the gathering, in a well fitting living room where three other women chatted around the coffee table. There were an assortment of cookies and a deviled egg platter that Serena pointedly placed her cookie plate down next to. Michelle disappeared into the kitchen, and Serena was left to social with the other ladies.

Most of the women in tonight’s circle were aforementioned Lora Brown, a short lady that loved her copper bangles and always had her auburn hair put up in curls. Lora was the local social studies teacher at the middle school and had a tense air to her that was good for bickering with anyone she had to pick a bone with. Madeline Miller, a bank clerk and single mother of two, laughed in a bubbly manner and had large brown doe eyes that followed anyone out of a room like a beacon. Then there was Jessica Perez, petite to the point that her glasses almost swallowed her entire face, but she was at least a familiar face to Serena, they worked at the local newspaper together.

Jessica rose from her seat, wobbling over to give Serena a firm hug, her rose water perfume coated Serena’s sense as she returned the friendly hug.

“Oh it was so boring without you,” Jessica whispered to Serena as she pulled away.

Lora smacked Jessica in the shoulder, “hey I heard you Perez, what you have something to say to me? Am I not entertaining enough for you?”

“Oh Lora she didn’t mean anything by it,” Madeline defended quietly from the sidelines.

“Yeah!” Jessica gestured to Madeline, “you know it is officially winter break now teach, save that kind of talk for your husband.”

Lora’s jaw dropped and Serena sneaked over to Madeline, picking out a nice gingersnap front he coffee table to nibble at as Lora went at Jessica. Michelle swept back into the living room, holding an additional glass of wine as Lora began to complain to Jessica about the tortures of commanding a class of rogue thirteen year olds with hormonal issues. Serena reached out for the glass and clinked hers against Michelle’s own as the brunette draped herself on the couch next to Serena and Madeline.

“A classic Brown and Perez debate, I call Perez,” Michelle’s timbre spoke to Serena and Madeline.

“Yeah Jess has an edge tonight,” Madeline agreed.

“Nah, I think Lora is going to tire her out, she has the rage from finishing grading finals, this is going to be a while,” Serena gave her intake as Lora’s face began to grow pink.

The three of them idly chatted over cookies and wine as Jessica and Lora went off at each other over the seasonal saxophone track playing in the background. Serena swirled the deep red wine in her cup, bringing the glass up to her lips slowly as Madeline whispered about something new that came up with her eldest daughter as to not interrupt the argument going on. The merlot was rich when it touched Serena’s tongue, almost coating over it instantly as she took in a good gulp of the warm liquid, letting it slowly ooze down her throat. After the busy rush to cover new articles for the paper, meeting all the deadlines and getting all of her presents bought and wrapped, Serena finally felt like she could spend some time unwinding with the girls.

Taking another generous gulp, a little bit spilled past her lips and before she could recover front he feeling of the liquid dripping onto her blouse a firm thumb brushed right under Serena’s chin. Looking up, Serena saw Michelle, now firmly draped over the backrest of the couch, her ice blue stare focused on Serena’s chin as she gently sipped the drip of wine from her skin. With a coquettish grin from Michelle’s pearly white teeth, she pulled her thumb back and stuck it into her mouth, making a point of sucking the caught drop off of her thumb.

 A rush of warmth flushed to Serena’s face, she placed her glass down and excused herself to the bathroom. Once inside the perfect seashell decorated room, Serena stared herself down in the mirror. Quietly, she tried to will her heartbeat to calm down, she felt very out of place getting a little worked up over an affectionate gesture from Michelle. Truth be told, this was not the first time this had happened. Easter Brunch had Serena almost breathless when Michelle applied lipstick to Serena’s lips, on her birthday the woman had also written her such a loving note in her birthday card. Serena felt too old for crushes, she was thirty eight years old and knew which trees to bark up if she wanted another woman’s affection so badly and Michelle Wilson was not it.

Fixing her raven hair, Serena slowly pulled herself back together, gently patting her face and counting the beauty marks on her face. Once she began to feel more composed, she straightened out her skirt and left the bathroom.

Jessica and Lora were done arguing by the time she returned back to the livingroom and now Jessica was settled in getting Madeline to dance with her while Lora and Michelle chatted away. 

“Who won?” Serena asked, pulling out a cheery smile quick to get back into the swing of things.

“Lora, now come over here and spin me bitch!” Jessica cackled, quickly grabbing Serena by the arm and swinging her into the over the top swaying and jiving that Jessica was trying to get her and Madeline to do. 

They laughed and swung around, moving around to the smooth tones and accompaniment of percussion that played over a rendition of Little Drummer Boy. Serena soon found herself swaying with Madeline, twisting and giggling along with the way Jessica moved in an exaggerated manner. When Jessica twirled Serena around in a circle her entire world spun and she lost her grip on Jessica’s hand, hitting the ground hard. Serena felt a dizzy spell and the room smudged over itself, she did not have that much to drink… Had she?

Laughing on the ground, Serena grabbed the coffee table to try and help herself up, “I think that’s enough spinning for me! Oh shit-”

Serena’s arms gave out as she got up part of the way and hit the ground again,except this time the impact did not hit her. At first she thought that maybe she had hit her head in a wrong way or maybe that the ceiling looked a little too funny, it seemed to fade into speckles of tv static. The vision was interrupted by Michelle’s face looking down at Serena, the brown ringlets of her hair pointed down at her like the tentacles of a jellyfish. 

Michelle looked placid and calm as Serena spoke up in a shaky voice, “hey can I get some help?”

“Madeline,” Michelle looked up, her blue eyes leaving Serena’s vision, “can you get her propped up?”

Serena felt a furrow of confusion start to swirl in her head as then Madeline came into view. The quiet and well kept woman propped Serena up against the coffee table,making her sit up as Serena struggled to move a single limb. It felt like every nerve in her body had abandoned her and not a single ounce of feeling was found in them. Her breathing picked up as Madeline backed away, crowding next to Jessica, who placed her hands on her hips, looking at Serena and back to Michelle who was disappearing again into the kitchen. The sounds of drawers being opened and clattering of utensils faded into the room as Lora sauntered in next to Jessica and looked at Serena like she was a spectacle.

“Wha- what’s going on?” Serena spoke slowly, her mouth felt heavy and moving her jaw took a lot more work than she expected. Serena’s chin nodded down once, she blinked and then her head snapped back up, eyes fluttering to fight the heavy feeling that nestled down into her bones.

“We drugged you,” Michelle’s voice twittered back into the room as she came back in from the kitchen. The sound of her footsteps thudded against the floorboards as Serena watched her renter holding a rather small kitchen knife. Panic spiked in Serena’s heart when she saw the metal glinted as Michelle got close and crouched down in front of her.

Managing to shake her head, Serena tried to move her legs. Jessica snorted, grabbing her wine glass up from the coffee table, “you’re full of the good stuff babe.”

“A sedative,” Michelle said, grabbing Serena’s twitching arm and holding it up. The silver metal shined in Serena’s eye as the twist of it met the skin of her arm and she closed her eyes. 

A cool hand cupped the side of Serena’s face, pulling her head in the direction of Michelle as Serena’s eyes opened up to see her up close in Serena’s space. There was a spot of red on Michelle’s mouth as she tilted Serena’s head. Her blood ran cold and nausea spiked up in her chest as she watched her arm being held up by Madeline and the sight of her letting the blood from the cut drip into Lora’s awaiting wine glass.

Serena’s eyes fluttered, this had to be a sick joke, she had to be dreaming. Just a dream, a sick twisted dream, it had to be!

Michelle tilted Serena’s face back to her and now Serena could smell the way Michelle’s breath smelled of copper and she shook her head in defiance. Everything was making her sick and she refused to get sick or cry as blood was being drained from her arm.

“Serena, I’m going to need you to open your eyes and look at me,” Michelle spoke in a strict tone.

Serena made a disgruntled noise in protest, “sweetheart if you don’t look at me this will only get worse.”

Breathing became harsher and Serena felt her vision beginning to fade out, washing away like a tidal wave. Everything was fading into static and obscurity, wavering into undulating colors and vertigo that made her want to hurl. It was over, it was all over…

Serena gasped for breath, inhaling so deep that it hurt and made her ribs contract too tight against her insides. The pale white sheets on her bed were cool and stark against her vision as she coughed and sputtered against her pillow. The clock on her bedside table read at eleven thirty am in the morning, she focused on that as her breathing began to even out and a warm hand rubbed between her shoulders.

“Shhh shhh,” a soft sound came from the familiar form cradling up behind Serena as she regained her groundings. It was just a dream, another twisted thing that snuck up on her when she slept.

Taking her time, Serena slowly turned around in her wife’s arms, tears being whipped away gently by Michelle’s fingers, soft baby blue eyes looking at her with concern and patience. This was her Michelle, not the one from her dream, the one that she’s raised her kids with and shared one too many nights being in her arms when a particular nightmare froze her in place.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Michelle asked softly, cupping Serena’s face.

Irrational guilt and embarrassment prickled up Serena’s spine, she could not even begin to explain the dream she had just had, even more so it was something for her therapist to hear. Serena gently kissed Michelle’s forehead and shook her head.

“No,” her voice came out hoarse and strained, “just a stress dream…”

“Alright… You can always talk to me,” Michelle reassured her, kissing Serena once before pulling her into a long embrace. Serena buried her head down under her wife’s chin, pressing her face into her exposed collarbones and wrapping her arms around her waist.

“I know, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michelle muttered into Serena’s hair as the moment drew on, leaving them to their quiet recovery, settling things back into place for the day.