Shane lays stretched out on the couch in the living room, Dexter curled up in a tiny ball on her stomach, purring like a miniature boat motor. One of her hands rests on his small, furry body, but she's not petting him. The hand is still, as she's fallen sound asleep, her head having sunk off to one side, chin brushing the soft, worn cotton of her ( Read more... )

[Continues from hereTara wraps her arms around Shane, resting hands on her wife's abdomen and chin on her shoulder. "It looks good," she murmurs, pleased by the softly twinkling lights amidst the green branches of their newly decorated Christmas tree, and the whimsical but wholly appropriate ornaments contributed by their guests. "Now all we need ( Read more... )