FIC: The Vow (Bree/Katherine)

[perfect_pride]

 Title: The Vow
Author: perfect_pride 
Recipient: philosapphic
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairing: Bree/Katherine
Rating: R
Word count: 4217
Disclaimer: Desperate Housewives and its’ characters are sadly, no invention of mine!
Warnings: Alcoholism
Summary: One shot for femslash11  that is set during the five years after the Season 4 finale, when Katherine moves in with Bree to help her to recover from alcoholism.

A/N: I really hope you like this as I read your “Dear Author letter” and used that to come up with this. :)

**

There were many positive aspects of living with another woman, especially when said woman was almost a carbon copy of yourself in every way possible. Bree and Katherine resembled each other in many ways, from the red hair to the need for impeccable hygiene standards. For Bree, it made living with her fellow female so much easier in many respects; Katherine didn’t leave dirty cutlery in the sink, she didn’t leave her things lying all over the house, and shock horror, she didn’t put the toilet seat up. Granted, Orson has always been tidy, but there was something about a woman’s touch that made the house complete for Bree.

Of course, there was a downside to living with your best friend and past frenemy, namely the fact that the entire reason she had moved in was because Bree was unable to just stop drinking. Wine, champagne, beer, vodka, tequila, gin; the list was endless. Only the reputable drinks though; no house white for her thank-you-very-much. Bree might be an alcoholic, but she still had taste. If she was going to get drunk than she was going to damn well enjoy it, not spend every mouthful wincing at the taste of acidic nail varnish eroding away her oesophagus as it journeyed down her throat.

Absurd that someone would do such a thing.

And that was exactly was separated Bree from the other alcoholics out there. She had standards, and class, and a reputation to uphold. Why did it matter if the neighbours thought Katherine had moved in so she could redecorate her own house without ingesting the toxic fumes? Why did it matter that Bree was so paranoid about them discovering the truth that she had paid for Katherine’s house to have new wallpaper and floors, just to tally with her story? It was natural to want to protect your weakness, to stop those who surrounded the private walls in which you lived from discovering your dirty little secret.

There were other benefits, of course, like the fact that being sober around Katherine meant Bree could escape her slurred world of Sauvignon Blanc and vomit and just be Bree Van De Kamp. She wasn’t one-time mom (grandmother) of Benjamin, or some-time wife to a husband that was behind bars. Her neighbours, friends and acquaintances didn’t know that she had fallen off the wagon, and the only individual who was privy to such information, Katherine, had vowed to keep it to herself.

Which so far she had done, to her credit. How long it would last Bree didn’t know, but she would be grateful at the moment for the fact that Katherine had achieved the impossible on Wisteria Lane and successfully managed to keep another person’s secret. She hadn’t exchanged it for new gossip, or used it against Bree as revenge for any wrongs she may have committed. As surprising as it was, Katherine had done the best she possible could for Bree.

How delightful of her.

**

Today, however, Katherine had gone out for the whole day. It was seven a.m. and she had left to attend a cookery convention that was an entire two hour drive away. The convention, she said, would last until at least five p.m. which meant that she wouldn’t be home for another twelve hours minimum. Thankfully, the fact that she had informed Bree of the convention a week beforehand had allowed her enough preparation time for the one thing that Katherine had expressly forbidden her not to do. Consume alcohol.

Three days ago when visiting the supermarket, Bree had cleverly bought three bottles of the finest champagne they had in stock, (Dom Pérignon) with cash from her safe and in a different transaction to her usual shopping. She had even remembered to throw the receipt into the trash the moment she left the store, preventing Katherine from finding it. Shortly after stowing the champagne bottles in the compartment underneath of the boot of ther car where the spare tyre was kept, Bree drove home as normal. Wonderful.

Bree had waited an entire hour after Katherine had left before she decided that it was safe to retrieve the champagne bottles. It would be too far for Katherine to turn back if she had forgotten something, and besides, Bree was certain she would phone ahead to say she was on her way should she be returning home for whatever reason, thereby giving her time to hide the evidence. Had she already began drinking she would have to get out of the house swiftly to prevent Katherine from discovering her intoxication, but for the moment there was nothing for Bree to worry about. She had planned for every eventuality, after all.

Upon gathering the bottles from the car, she placed them into the shiny silver, brand new toolbox she had brought out with her so that any nosey neighbours would not spot the alcohol. Nevertheless, she needn’t have worried; from what she could see there was no one about just yet. Saturdays were the days for lie-ins, even on Wisteria Lane. It wouldn’t be long before the Scavo boys started terrorising the entire neighbourhood, but for now, she was safe.

As Bree entered her house and made her way to the bedroom where she would be able to hide her alcohol quickly if she needed to, she once again ran through the precise morning schedule she had worked out in her head to ensure that all proceeded smoothly:

07.00am- First bottle of Dom Pérignon

07.27am- Use the bathroom

07.30am- Second bottle of Dom Pérignon

07.44am- Use the bathroom

07.57am- Use the bathroom

08.00am- Third bottle of Dom Pérignon

08.11am- Use the bathroom

09.00am- Shower

09.30am- Sleep

After that, Bree would allow herself to wake up naturally, though she had set alarms every hour on the hour to ensure that she wasn’t in an entirely deep sleep for when Katherine was expected back. If she took every precaution then she should be able to keep her plan well hidden from Katherine. It was risky, but then again this was the only chance she would have to satisfy her cravings. Besides, if she was only drinking for one day then that didn’t really matter, did it? After that she would be forced by circumstance to go back on the wagon. It wasn’t a problem.

Of course, Bree was intelligent enough to realise that it wasn’t normal. But then as much as she tried to lead a perfectly normal life, somehow things had never seemed to work that way for her. Mostly she was ok with that, and whenever she started thinking it wasn’t she just distracted herself with something mundane like weeding in the garden. Today though, she was going to enjoy a day of freedom no matter what the price. Even if her head felt like it had been run over by a thousand trucks and she had to force the vomit back into her stomach to stop Katherine from discovering her forbidden antics, it would be worth it.

Wouldn’t it?

Refusing to allow herself to debate any longer, Bree popped the champagne bottle into the bathroom sink (less mess to deal with when she was drunk out of her skull) and filled almost to the brim the crystal flute that she had been hiding in her dresser drawer for the past three days. Facing the mirror, she smiled at her near perfect reflection, ignoring the bags and lines that were barely visible due to her carefully applied makeup, and raised the glass to herself in a mock toast. With a wry smile, she tipped her head backwards, her red locks flowing around her shoulders, and downed the drink in one.

Bliss.

Ecstasy.

Pure unadulterated joy!

Bree was just about to pour herself another glass, when she sensed rather than heard someone else’s presence. Swiftly whirling around to face the doorway to the bedroom, her heart skipped a beat in sickening realisation as she set eyes on Katherine, who didn’t look at all surprised by the scene before her. She didn’t look angry, just disappointed, and almost as though she had expected to find Bree in this position as though she had experienced a premonition of some kind.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she drawled, pursing her rose red lips and folding her arms. The white summer dress she wore creased underneath her breasts as she placed her arms there, and Bree thought her heart may have skipped a beat. Blushing, she tore her eyes away, focusing on a slight crack in the wall just right of Katherine. I really should fix that.

“Katherine,” Bree said awkwardly, unable to formulate a sensible response in her head. All she could think was why now? If Katherine was going to find out about her drinking, why couldn’t she at least have appeared when she was completely drunk? Bree had barely had a taster, and the craving for more was overwhelming now that she had been allowed to remember the initial first few sips.

“You seem surprised to see me,” Katherine observed. “Or am I even later than I realised and you’re actually on your second bottle?”

“N-no,” Bree stuttered, suddenly with an intense desire to defend herself. “This is only my first glass.”

“You shouldn’t even have made it to your first glass,” Katherine said, sounding a little irritated now. “I obviously overestimated by a few minutes how long you would wait to have your first drink. Though for all I know you could have been drinking for the last half hour. Maybe I have a little too much faith in you, Bree.”

“I’m not lying,” Bree said, before she realised how ridiculous that sounded, even to herself. The lies were ever present in the room, resting encased in their glass bottles. Since alcohol had become somewhat of a comfort to Bree, it had changed her behaviour and aspects of her personality in ways that Bree had never imagined it had the power to.

Katherine smiled, though it certainly didn’t reach the darkness of her eyes. “Forgive me, but I have no reason to believe you.”

Undoubtedly, Bree understood why Katherine would make such a statement considering that she herself was aware of how absurd she had sounded by defending herself. She may as well just admit defeat, let Katherine lecture her and then hopefully distract her from the gigantic error in her judgement once a few days had lapsed. It was probably the most sensible course of action to take. Obviously it would take a great deal of hard work to push Katherine towards brushing this entire incident under the carpet, but she would do her best. Perhaps yet more compliments on her sumptuous lemon meringue pie would do the trick?

“Ok, fine,” Bree said slowly. “I accept that. Katherine can we just... forget this even happened?”

Katherine laughed, and stared at Bree in disbelief. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You genuinely want me to just walk away... pretend like you’re three and I’ve caught you sneaking cookies before dinner.”

“Well, I think that’s a little extreme...” Bree began, but Katherine held up a hand, cutting her off.

“No. Do you really think I’m that stupid? I knew what you were going to do, Bree. I may not have discovered where you kept your stash or what you were going to drink, but I knew that the opportunity to consume alcohol would be too good for you to pass up,” Katherine revealed.

Bree stared, eyes wide. “You... you knew?”

Brown eyes showed only pity as Katherine sadly nodded her head. “I set you up. It was a test to see if you could be trusted. As I said a moment ago, you weren’t ever meant to have your first drink, but I arrived too late. I didn’t plan for this, I’ll admit.”

The raw honesty that Katherine provided was too much for Bree to handle. The disappointment, the lack of shouting and the concern that practically dripped from every word her fellow redhead spoke was something that Bree just wasn’t ready for, and so she pushed past Katherine’s frame and entered her bedroom once more. Her chest felt tight and it was harder to breathe, as though her airway was involuntarily constricting, trying to force her to fight for every lungful of air she took in.

Somehow it was too much and not enough at the same time. Her life was empty of all the things she needed, and full of all the things she didn’t. It was a struggle for her to function at the best of times, and it was only her pride that forced her to keep getting up every morning and dressing well, applying her makeup immaculately. Katherine didn’t understand how much she just wanted to curl up into a ball and die underneath her duvet, and how disheartening it was to wake up every morning and discover that unfortunately she was still alive.

“You need to breathe,” Katherine told her, and Bree was suddenly aware that she was lying on the bed, her head lolling to the side. There was a soft hand rubbing her own hand back and forth, back and forth, and Bree fought the ridiculous urge to grasp the hand in her own, never letting it go.

“I am breathing,” she said, but even to her own ears her voice sounded far away and distant, as though she was speaking to herself from the other side of the room. It was a strange, floaty sensation, and for a split, morbid second, Bree wondered if she was dying. It didn’t feel like it should though, because she wasn’t frightened, or worried, and she didn’t even feel particularly ill. She just felt odd, and there was no air coming into her lungs.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Katherine stated steadily. “Just calm down and focus on me, sweetheart.”

Panic attack? But Bree wasn’t panicking, so how did that make sense? She didn’t understand how Katherine had come to form such a conclusion, but she was unable to speak the words aloud to enquire as to why she would think such a thing. Maybe it was because Katherine knew her so well. Yes, that must be it, she just knew that there was something wrong with Bree and had probably seen people in the midst of panic attacks in the past.

Had Katherine called her sweetheart before today? Bree couldn’t remember. She couldn’t really think about anything at all, and so she did as she was told and watched Katherine, wondering how she had ended up in such a humiliating situation. Nobody was supposed to see past her barriers, and yet the redhead in front of her had managed to trample them six feet under, leaving Bree open and vulnerable for her to see all of her weaknesses.

Eventually, her chest started moving more regularly, and the spaced feeling faded away, the blood flowing back to her brain and giving her the strength she needed to sit up against a white Egyptian cotton pillow. It felt soft and fluffy against her neck, and she sank backwards into it, wishing she could wrap herself up and hide in her own safe little cocoon, never leaving forever more. It was a nice image, she decided, but one that wasn’t feasible considering her basic human needs that wouldn’t just disappear.

“How are you feeling?” Katherine asked, after a few more minutes of silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence either, it was one full of a heavy tension that sucked at Bree’s head and made it impossible for her to think with clarity.

“Fine,” Bree said, despite the fact she knew Katherine would see through the lie.

The other woman gave an exasperated sigh. “Did you really think I wouldn’t even call you today? Or that you could just have one mouthful of alcohol and it would satisfy your needs forever more? Tell me, please. What exactly is going through your head?”

Make something up was Bree’s initial silent response, but she was too tired to think of a decent cover story. Anyhow, what would the point be? She had been caught in the middle of a forbidden act; she may as well explain her reasons. “I considered you might call, but I thought I could fool you. No, I didn’t think one mouthful would be enough because it never is. And I have no idea what is going through my head, because I don’t know what is happening to me,” she replied, not bothering to hide her frustration. “I am just so fed up of living like this. I don’t want to feel this way.” She paused, staring at Katherine. “There are so many things I don’t want to feel, and I’m tired of ignoring them.”

Katherine shifted slightly, and Bree suddenly realised that her fellow redhead still had a hand on top of her own. “What do you feel exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Bree said, because it was the truth, and she felt like screaming. “I feel so much that I want to explode, but I can’t explain it. Sometimes I just... I’m so sick of pretending to be perfect. I only want to be happy. Is that too much to ask for, Katherine?”

Shaking her head, Katherine shifted closer to her, pulling her legs up onto the bed and leaning her head against the pillow next to Bree. It was the closest they had ever been positioned to each other, but contrary to how Bree usually felt when her personal space was invaded, she found that she didn’t really mind. There was a gap in her stomach that hadn’t been filled with the alcohol she had so desperately desired, and now she just felt empty and alone. It wasn’t often that she felt comfortable enough to endure physical contact, but she wasn’t going to refuse the one thing that made the ache in her belly feel a little less worse.

“Of course not,” Katherine said, voice softer now. “But we’ve had a conversation very similar to this before. You don’t have to pretend when it’s me. I’m not going to announce to every resident of Wisteria Lane that you’re not Little Miss Perfect, twenty-four seven. Be honest.”

Bree stared, locking eyes with Katherine. She looked sincere, genuine. “If I’m honest with you, then you should be honest with me too,” she proposed, because she wasn’t baring her entire soul for nothing. If there was a risk in the future of her own feelings being ridiculed then she damn well wanted to have something to throw back in Katherine’s face.

A smile formed on Katherine’s face at Bree’s request, and at once, Bree noticed the smudge of lipstick on her front teeth. She had an overwhelming urge to rub it off herself, to reach out with her little finger. She couldn’t understand why exactly this was, but she chose not to look into it in too much detail.

For some inexplicable reason, she did. Brushing against Katherine’s lips, she felt a shiver somewhere low in her body as she felt the softness of her mouth as she gently rubbed her finger back and forth. It was an odd thing to be doing, but at the same time, strangely hypnotic. She must be going insane, she decided, because for a tenth of a second she considered pushing her finger against Katherine’s tongue, just to see what it felt like.

Katherine frowned, but didn’t jerk backwards or move away. Instead, she waited until Bree had finished, and then she watched.

Offering an explanation, Bree said, “You had lipstick on your teeth.”

“That’s it?” Katherine said, sounding unsure. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Bree shrugged. “I don’t know.”

There was a moment when they stared at each other, and Bree wondered what was going through Katherine’s head right now and if she was thinking the same thing that she was. That felt nice. No, it felt fabulous. More than likely though she was just thinking that Bree had lost her mind entirely; she’d be getting ready to have her sectioned any moment now. There was something about the way Katherine was staring at her that made her feel like she was the only person that mattered to Katherine, and that in turn made her feel special in a way she hadn’t for a very long time.

Whether it was this special feeling, the fact that Katherine was living with her, or just a moment of insanity that led to her next move, Bree had no idea. All she knew was that seconds later her mouth was inexplicably attached to Katherine’s, her eyes were shut and her arm was resting on Katherine’s bare thigh. It was warm and wonderful and it made her feel exactly the same as when she tasted that first sip of alcohol, except there was no burning in the throat or turning over of the stomach; the most accurate way Bree could describe it was supreme bliss. Katherine was everything that Bree wanted and needed except for the fact that she had breasts and female anatomy. As brilliant as it felt, it was all sorts of wrong.

But that didn’t explain why Bree couldn’t bear to tear her lips away from Katherine’s, or why she moaned without meaning to. It couldn’t explain why she wanted to pull Katherine’s dress from her or clutch onto her whilst pressing their bodies flush together. There were obscene images running through her mind that Bree couldn’t force away no matter how hard she tried, and when she brought herself to the present, to what was currently happening, she realised that Katherine was kissing her back. Crazy, of course, but there was no denying the passion Katherine put into the kiss was what quite literally had began spreading throughout and over her body.

It was when she started tingling right down there that horrified with herself, Bree pulled backwards. What had she been thinking? Maybe that glass of champagne had been stronger than she’d realised, or she’d blocked out the memory of the extra three she had ingested. There was absolutely no way on earth that she would have made such a ridiculous move on Katherine if she had been sober. She had no idea what Katherine’s excuse was, but supposed she must have just been too scared or frightened of what Bree would do if she didn’t reciprocate the kiss. Does that make me an attempted rapist? I’m a monster!

“I’m sorry,” Bree said eventually, cutting into the silence and desperate for Katherine to understand that she hadn’t meant it. She was a heterosexual woman, not some sort of lesbian whore. Katherine would probably be feeling disgusted right now, and horrified that she was friends with someone like Bree. It was one thing to accept your best friend’s son as being gay, it was entirely another to have a best friend with gay tendencies. Oh yes indeed.

“It’s ok,” Katherine replied, but she didn’t look as if she was ok. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes focused on everything except Bree. “You’re drunk, it doesn’t matter.”

Bree opened her mouth to deny being drunk, before she weighed up the options. Alcoholic heterosexual woman, or disgusting lesbian woman? Even in her own mind, she found herself shuddering at the latter identity even more than the former. It would be better if she just pretended to be drunker than she was in reality, and so she decided to go along with the lie. “I think I need to just sleep this off,” she said with a slight shake to her voice. “Before the alcohol forces me to make any other silly choices.” She avoided Katherine’s gaze, worried she would see the dishonesty in her brown eyes. So much for opening up to each other, that most certainly wouldn’t be happening now.

“Right,” Katherine said, somewhat awkwardly. “I’ll uh... I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” She left the room slowly, as though she wasn’t quite sure if she was doing the right thing but didn’t have any better ideas anyway.

Bree steadfastly decided to ignore Katherine’s offer, because she was too much of everything that Bree didn’t need. She was a pain in the ass, and as reluctant as Bree was to admit it; her equal in all the ways that mattered. Maybe that was why she had made such a stupid decision; what other possible reason could there be? Granted, she wasn’t drunk right now, but the amount of alcohol she had ingested over the years had no doubt permanently rewired her brain if she was suddenly considering her female best friend to be attractive. God, what was wrong with her?

She needed a drink.

Ignoring the craving, she pulled the duvet over her head and buried her head into the pillow beneath her. All she could think to do was restlessly sleep, awaken, plaster the pretty picture smile on her face that she had perfected years ago, and pretend like it had never happened. There would soon be a brand new day and a whole new set of problems to face, but with her nails digging into her protruding ribs, Bree swore a vow to herself that being a lesbian was not going to be one of them.

**