~*~

I’m home at last and I’m soaking through and through,
then you handed me a towel and all I see is you.
And even if my house falls down 
I wouldn’t have a clue,
because you’re near me and
I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life.
	~ Dido, "Thank You"

~*~

With an unhappy grimace Rachel tossed her wavy brown hair over a shoulder and made her way up the long pathway to her house. The rubber band that had held her hair out of her way that morning had snapped early on and she’d had to fight with it for the rest of the day. It was also the reason she now had a large brown stain spread out across the front of her white button up. Somehow it had managed to wrap itself around her arm, so that when she’d tried to untangle it, while holding a stack of folders with the other arm, her cup had tipped, spilling so that not only was her shirt ruined but her chest had been scolded as well.

Blinking tired and bleary eyes at her front door she let out a relieved sigh. "Home at last," she mumbled, searching for the keys in her purse to unlock the door. Three minutes later she was cursing under her breath at the lack of keys. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she picked her way through the front flower garden and pressed her face to a kitchen window.

There gleaming in the afternoon sun was her key ring, complete with a shiny silver house key. Hitting her head gently against the glass she remembered the mad dash through the house that morning in a futile attempt to be at work on time. The keys had been thrown down onto the kitchen counter when changing into a new pair of stalkings after discovering the run in the first ones she’d put on.

So with another mumbled curse she set out for the back of the house, her pumps sinking into the muddy earth. The work shoes weren’t made for walking on linoleum much less mud and they slipped. Rachel just caught herself from ending up with mud smeared across her rump, the maneuver, however, left her with a dull ache in her wrist. Once at the back door she bent over and started picking up rocks to find the one with the spare key hidden under it. Each time she bent over her purse slid down her arm and knocked her hand out of the way with a thump.

With a relieved grunt she finally found the one with the spare, just narrowly missing having it knocked into a puddle of brown water by her kamikaze purse. Holding her breath in anticipation of another disaster she put the key in the lock. The cold made it stick so she had to force it in and fight with it.

She let out a soft grunt and it turned with a click and she was inside finally. Kicking off the now brown, once black, pumps by the door she made a beeline through the house for the bedroom. She slipped off her newly tie-dyed shirt and hurled it into the trash, careful of her tender wrist. Then she untied her jacket from her waist, revealing the tear that ran all the way up the back of her skirt.

That had happened first thing that morning, just as she had taken a seat at her desk. Having just bought the skirt days earlier she was less then pleased and it followed in the way of the shirt. Distantly she heard the front door open and close as she pulled a knee-length t-shirt over her head. As she straightened from taking off her pantyhose she felt two arms encircle her waist slowly.

"Seth," she sighed as she snuggled into his warmth, relishing the feeling as he kissed the sensitive spot just where shoulder met neck.

"Hey, baby," the words rumbled against her ear as he slowly backed her over to their bed. "Just a sec," he said as he set her down and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later a smile curving the edges of his pink lips and a hairbrush clasped loosely in one of his hands.

She lifted one eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she watched him pick his way to the bed. The mattress bent beneath his weight, causing her to lean towards him as he crawled to the space behind her. Gentle hands pulled the curled mass so that it rested at her back.

Her eyes drifted closed as he worked the brush through the rough tangles, starting at the bottom of her hair and working up. A process she usually didn’t bother with, it took too long and on most occasions she was too pressed for time.

He was careful not to pull any of the hair out and soon enough the locks were falling through his fingers like thick silk. They sat there for a few more minutes as he ran his hands through the brown waves before he pulled her back to nestle into his arms.

"Why’d you do that?" she asked sleepily, her eyes growing heavy all of a sudden.

"’Cause it makes me happy," he answered, his lips pressing against her ear. "How was your day?"

She felt a smile tug at her lips, "the best," she mumbled as sleep took her. The last thing she felt was soft lips pressed against her temple.