Fic: Enough is Never Quite Enough (1/3)

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17 Νοε 2013 (πριν από 4 χρόνια και 8 μήνες)

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Fic: Enough is Never Quite Enough (1/3)



Hard R




None of this is true.

She doesn’t think she could handle it being another pause.


Normal rules apply. It’s open for the first 48 hours before I friend lock it. All mistakes are
my own.


The first time Naya tells her she loves her

really, truly, from the bottom of her heart, is
her loves her

is on her weddin
g day.

She’s stood in a hotel, dressed from head to toe in white, when Naya appears in the doorway and
asks to speak to her.

She looks beautiful, and that’s what Heather hates most because it makes everything a million
times harder. She’s wearing red, an
d it feels fitting considering she’s the so
called “other
woman”, but she’s the most beautiful thing Heather’s seen today, no matter how many people
tell her that thing is actually her.

“It’s almost time,” Heather says and the annoyance and worry in her v
oice is clear. It betrays her
true feelings. “What are you

“I love you,” she says and it’s a breath more than a word, an exhale that she almost didn’t mean
to release.

It’s not until Heather tries to speak that she realizes that she just stole all the
air from the room.
Her eyes are wide and glassy and she takes an uncertain step back at the power of the words that
just left her. Heather just stares, shocked, hurt, disappointed. There were better times to do this.

Naya gasps and swallows. Heather can’t

decide if she didn’t want to say that or if she never
expected to be able to.

The words themselves are not actually shocking

if anything, she thinks she’s probably known
the truth behind them for longer than she can remember

it’s that she finally actuall
y said them.

“Heather, I love you…” she says again and it’s worse than the first time. “I love you. I’m
in love

with you and I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you

I can’t let you do this. I

you, Heather,”
she says when Heather just stares at her.
“Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you
understand what I’m doing? I’m doing
. Just like you asked.”

Finally, Heather just shakes her head. The thought of taking that step back makes her feel sick.
She was excited about this day. She was ready to mov
e on. She’s so close to it.


“It’s not enough anymore,” she whispers and she’s too
aware of the fact that her mother and her
sisters and all of her friends are stood somewhere close and they could be listening. She’s too
aware that this is some
thing she doesn’t want anyone to hear. It’s because of that need that she
knows that she’s ready. “You can tell me you love me but what does it even mean? What does it

, Heather

“What do you want, Naya?” she asks softly. “Tell me. B
e honest. What do you want?”

Heather already knows the answer. She wants to be an actress, a singer. She wants to be
successful; she wants everyone to know her name. She wants the thing she’s been building since
she was a little girl. She wants this thing

but, whenever she’s asked why, she can’t ever seem to
come up with an answer. That’s why it never feels honest.

And, just like always, it’s minutes later and she still hasn’t answered. She hasn’t come up with an
answer. She can’t be honest.

“Goodbye, Na
ya,” she says and Naya’s eyes go wide and sparkly with tears. Her mouth opens
and closes with the need for words but they never actually leave her mouth. She just stands there,
gaping, and Heather feels herself give up.

“I can…” Naya tries but stops when
she realizes she can’t.

Heather sighs. “I’m standing here, in a white dress, about to marry somebody else. If you can’t
say all the right things now, you probably won’t ever.”


“That’s it, Naya,” she whispers and she tries to keep the begging,

the please
anymore whimper, from her voice. “That’s it. That’s it, now.”

When Naya walks away, she’s sure that’s it.

She’s wrong.


They were naked the first time Heather told Naya that she loved her. It was 2010 but she’d felt
that way

for months, too scared to say it out loud.

Naya’s hips slowed to a stop against her fingers and her body collapsed atop her. She kissed her
sweaty forehead. She pushed dark hair away from Naya’s eyes. She was panting, desperate, and
it was the only thing

she could think of to say when she looked at her.

It felt like a beginning, a start, months of sleeping together and being “best friends” finally
becoming something. It felt like a beginning but their beginnings have mostly felt like endings.
Except, the
y’re not even endings. She wishes they were endings. They mostly just feel like
someone’s pressed pause.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

And, it was with those words, that the moment where their beginning should have begun, the part
where Naya’s
eyes should have softened and she should have buckled with relief, never
happened. Instead, it was the tiny body in her arms stiffening as her head shook

“You can’t,” she said softly.


The “you cants” continued for a while after that, until Heather ga
ve up and turned bitter.

She stayed that way for a long time.

She lost one of her best friends and she blamed herself, blamed Naya, blamed anyone she could.
Brittany and Santana started happening and she blamed some more, different people. She acted
id for a while, acted bitter, acted like a crazy person.

She pretended she was stupid enough to think Artie was good enough for Brittany. She pissed
people off with it. She tried to scare them away.

Then tour happened and she started slipping. She starte
d falling asleep in Naya’s bed watching
TV, caught herself staring at her at breakfast when she would yawn and the curve of her lips
would crease cutely. She found herself drawn to her again. She kissed her on stage. Brittany and
Santana became girlfriends
. They got closer again. Everything was forgotten. At least, they
pretended it was forgotten for professionalisms sake. Brittany and Santana kissed and held
hands. They were in love and, after a while, Heather felt in love with Naya again to.

It didn’t ta
ke her long to realize that she’d never really stopped.


They were clothed the second time Heather told Naya she loved her.

They were in Mexico.

They’d been skirting around each other since Naya had arrived. Things had been tense and it
wasn’t until
Naya snapped, and asked her what the hell was going on with them, that anything

Heather kissed her, there and then, overlooking their perfect view of the water and the sun setting
into it. Naya pulled back and let out a nervous giggle. It hurt a

little, even though she was sure
Naya didn’t even mean it. It was just awkwardness. Discomfort. It was shock.

Still, Heather ran. She ran until she found their friends and then she got drunk. Really fucking
drunk, drunk enough to need a babysitter by the

time it came to them returning to the hotel. Naya
offered and Heather was too drunk on tequila and wine to protest when everyone else let her. She
woke up in the middle of the night and Naya was awake beside her, watching over her.

“I didn’t want you to
choke on your own tongue,” she said as an excuse, even though she was
inches away from her face. Their noses might as well have been touching.

Heather’s heart had caught in her chest and she’d gulped. When Naya had tried to move back,
she wouldn’t let her
. Not even when Naya asked her what that kiss was. She tried to get her to
admit it was nothing

just a mistake, done in the heat of the moment

but Heather had refused.

Instead, she kissed her again, softer this time, and whispered the truth against her li
ps. “I still
love you.”

It took all of five minutes for Naya to stop protesting.

Maybe she wasn’t as drunk as Heather but her hands were just as desperate. She barely even
touched the most intimate parts of her, just the soft, strange places it felt like

no one else had
ever kissed

her eyelids, the underside of her arm, the blueprint maze of veins on the inside of
her arm, her elbows, her knees, the curve of her hip

and she worshipped them all reverently.
She discovered them like an explorer. She wasn’t s
loppy or haphazard. She was loving.

It was then that Heather knew the truth but needed to hear it. She could feel it.

She could feel it the next night, and the next night, and when they snuck away for the afternoon
and just kissed each other, stroked eac
h other in the privacy of a mostly
quiet beach. She could
feel it when it all became too much and they made love too quickly in the sand, trying to be as
quiet as they could. She could feel it then.

She could even feel it when Naya promised her they were
just fooling around.

She could feel it when she asked Naya what she wanted from this and Naya turned to her and

She wanted the career, the esteem, the fame. She wanted notoriety. She wanted everyone to
know who she was.

“That’s fine,” Heather had
said. “But you realize it won’t last forever right? What are you going
to do then? What are you doing to do when everyone knows your name but nobody knows who
you truly are? What then?”

Naya had no answer. She just walked away.

Heather wasn’t so sure she

wanted to hear the truth then.


It happened a couple of times after that. Maybe three. Four.


Seven times.

She slept with Naya

cheated on their boyfriends

seven more times after Mexico.

It wasn’t until they were out of Mexico that Heather ev
en realized how guilty she needed to be.
Mexico felt like another world where nothing was real, nothing except her and Naya.

Once she realized how guilty she felt, she wanted to stop. She told Naya as much but, every time
she tried to stop them, Naya woul
d look at her like she does, like she was the thing that makes
her damn world keep spinning, and Heather lost all fight.

She gave in.

Until she couldn’t anymore; they were just hurting everyone around them and she couldn’t

“Make your decision,”

she’d said softly, determinedly. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t sneak
around anymore. It’s all or nothing,” she’d whispered. “It’s us or it isn’t. No take backs.”

Naya chose isn’t.

She didn’t want any take backs.

Until that day in that hotel room, w
hen Heather was wearing her white dress and her veil and
there was a boy, who she was sure she loved too, standing at an alter waiting for her.

By then, it was too late.


She gets married.

There’s a ring and there’s papers and a kiss to sign the deal

All her friends and family witness her making promises with words like life, death, wife, honor,
love, forever.

She feels okay.

It feels enough, for now.

It feels like the beginning she always wanted.

Now there can be a future, a husband, a house, b

That’s what she’s always wanted, right?

At the thought of babies, two separate images pop into her head.

The first is her new husband holding her brand new baby niece a few years ago. He looks
uncertain but he’s smiling, he glances up at her and
gives her a look.

She feels nothing from it.

The second is of last May, of sitting beside Naya, and Vanessa suggesting taking pictures of
them pretending to be her moms. There’s a head in her lap and her fingers brush Naya’s as they
cradle it together. N
aya’s face is soft and smiley.

She feels everything.

She brushes it away and dances with her husband.


Things are good.

She has a husband and a cat and a dog and a job. She’s a lot better off that plenty of people she
went to high school with. She’s

got friends and she has a social life. She’s got everything that a
person should have and want and strive for.

Is she happy?

She doesn’t like to linger on that question too often.

She’s not sure what happiness is anymore.


She’s not sure what it is

until she doesn’t have it anymore.

She’s not sure what happiness is until she’s out at the store one day when she gets a text. It’s

You need to go home
, it says.
You need to go home and you need to decide what you’re doing to
do before Taylor ge
ts home.

There’s no explanation, no reason, and it’s so ominous that she feels sick. She forgets everything
else she needs to get and just pays for the stuff she already has before driving home as fast as she


(When she looks back, she’ll wonder

how different things would have turned out if she’d have
just dropped everything and left the store.)

(She figures probably not much.)

(By that time, it was already too late.)


He’s already home when she gets there, watching it.

She’s confused. He
should be at work. He refused to be a house husband. She puts down her
bags and rolls her eyes. Maybe something happened. Something that means he’s at home on a
Thursday afternoon watching porn on her computer.

She doesn’t mind. She works long hours. She
gets home late. It’s been a while. She gets it.

“What are

” is all she manages to get out before he’s talking.

His voice is low, warning, different. She stops putting away the groceries and narrows her eyes
at him. He’s sat on the couch with his back to
her and his shoulders hunched. She can see
something moving on the screen but it’s too far away.

“You know…” he whispers. “it’s enough that I get questions about how my wife is famous all
day every day. I can handle that. That’s fine. I expected that. The

amount of people telling me
how lucky I am because they’ve seen your naked pictures… That gets to me. The fact that people
everywhere all over the world can see my wife naked gets to me.”

Heather opens her mouth to speak but she’s not sure what to say. S
he’s not sure what’s going on.
It’s not until he turns around and she sees that he’s crying, that there is honest
God tears
rolling down his cheeks, that panic sets in.

She feels like she knows what’s happening, even if she hasn’t got a clue.

“But whe
n I get back from lunch and every person I walk past starts laughing at me because a
video of my wife


fucking her damn co
star is on the internet… that makes me feel
,” he spits, a sob coming out too. “When my manager brings me into his office
to ask me if
I’m okay, and then proceeds to show me this damn video to explain, it makes me feel

it makes
me feel

Everything gets kind of hazy after that. She zones out of his words and realizes what he’s
watching on the computer. A video

hosted on one
of those sleazy video sites

of two women
having sex on a beach, is open in a tab. The beach looks familiar, one of the women does, too.
Too familiar. In fact, both of them do. She takes a step closer and her legs almost disappear from
underneath her when s
he realizes what she’s looking at.

“Oh my God,” she blurts out. “Oh my fucking… what the…”

She takes the computer from him without a thought and looks at it closer. There, on the screen, is
herself, and Naya, rolling around on that beach in Mexico where
everything was supposed to be
private. They’re naked and her fingers are buried inside Naya

she can see that from this

and they’re kissing. She can remember that she was panting Naya’s name as short nails
dug into her ass.

It’s an out of body experi

She doesn’t know why but she hands the computer back to Taylor and falls into the armchair
across from him.


it’s online?”

He laughs, bitterly. He looks at her and she’s never seen someone look at her like that, with so
much disdain and disap
pointment. “You’re not even going to try and explain this, are you?” He
shakes his head. “You’re not even going to try and deny it.”

She doesn’t think she could get her voice to work. She’s sure that her shock is saying enough for
her already.

He sniffs
and then something switches in his face.

“Can you find somewhere to stay tonight?” he asks softly.

Her eyes go wide and panic sets in. “What?”

He sniffs with sudden indifference and stands up. “I would just up and leave, go to my parents,
but I have wor
k in the morning. Can you find somewhere to stay tonight? I don’t want to be near

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Asking for some space,” he mumbles. “while I get things figured out.”

“What things?” she asks desperately.

He shrugs. “My lawyer, my right
s… I don’t know.”

Her stomach drops, her heart flips over in her chest, she goes dizzy with nausea. “You’re leaving

His smile is bitter and his face is disappointed. “You had sex with someone else.”

“But it’s
,” she chokes breathlessly. “We wer
en’t even
. We’ve only been married
two months. We can get over this."

He wanders over to the closet by the front door and reaches inside, hands her a duffle bag.

“But that’s the thing, Heather,” he whispers. “I don’t think we can. Not when I know


the chance, for her

you’d do it all over again.”

She can’t argue with that, but hell does she try.

It was supposed to be over.

It was supposed to be an ending.

She doesn’t think she could handle it being another pause.


“Have you heard
from your manager?”

She shakes her head.

“Your publicist?”

She bites her lip to fight off tears before doing it again. She hasn’t spoken to anyone but him.
She has no idea what’s happening other than the fact that, three hours ago, she was getting stuff

to make pasta and now she’s sitting on her best friend’s couch heading for a divorce.


She buckles a little and swallows. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I… I don’t even know
where it is.”

Ashley reaches for her purse and finds it. Unlocks th
e screen and sighs. “Yeah, well…” she
mumbles. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

She pockets it, protectively.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” she says softly, disbelievingly. There’s
nothing left in her. There’s no fight left.

“I’m sorry.”

Heather shakes her head. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Ashley nods. “Water, juice, soda… I think I have some iced tea, maybe…”

“No,” Heather says. “Something stronger.”


It’s not the best idea she’s ever had but, when it comes to Naya, those never

really happen.

Her cabby doesn’t ask any questions and doesn’t protest like Ashley had done before she’d lied
and said she was going to talk to Taylor again. He just tells her not to puke in his car and she
grunts in promise before reeling off the addres

She probably tosses too much money at him when they get there but whatever. She’s drunk. She
doesn’t give a fuck.

She just stumbles up the driveway to Naya’s house and bangs on the door. She bangs on it louder
when she takes too long to answer and doe
sn’t even flinch when someone yanks it open. Brown
eyes burst wide open and then she’s being dragged through a front door away from prying eyes.
She flinches away from it instantly.

“Don’t touch me,” she mumbles. She can’t remember why she’s here. “Don’t
you fucking touch
me. Don’t you ever touch me again!”

“What are you

Heather’s too busy noticing the makeshift crisis team that’s congregated in Naya’s kitchen.
There’s her manager, her publicist, her

by the looks of it, Dianna, Kevin, Telly. There’
some other people she doesn’t know

maybe a lawyer.

, she needs a lawyer.

“You!” she says and she stumbles to the side. “You are poison. You are

you are…” she takes a
deep breath. “You are the bane of my fucking… This is your fault. This is all your


“Heather…” Naya tries. Dianna comes through from the kitchen. “Heather, we’re gonna deal
with this. They can’t prove anything… they can’t…”

“Bullshit!” Heather says and she stumbles again. “It’s
, but what’s even more

hat you’re gonna try and lie about it. That’s what you
. You lie. You’re a liar. You hurt
people. You hurt

Naya just stands there and takes it. She looks red
eyed, tired, terrified, but Heather doesn’t care
because she knows that no matter what hap
pens, Naya will still end up with everything she
wanted and she’ll be the one with nothing.

“This isn’t

fault…” she timidly tries. “I didn’t…”

“I don’t care,” Heather says petulantly. “I don’t give a fuck because you’ve ruined my fucking
life. You and

your fucking pathetic issues have fucked me over and now I’ve got
Nothing. Do you understand me?” she shouts. “You’re poison. You’re fucking poison and you
don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.” She falters a little. She feels someone grab

under the arms. She sees glasses when she turns and knows it’s Kevin. “My husband is divorcing
me because of you, because you fucking

because you… because you’re so fucking convincing.
Do you understand that? You played your games and now my

s out there, in my house,
calling up some lawyer to divorce me. Do you get that?”

“Heather…” she hears someone whisper but it isn’t Naya. Naya’s just standing there, stunned
and silent.

“I’ve lost my house,” she continues and her eyes start stinging. “My

house and my husband and
… my fucking cat.”

The first sob leaves her unexpectedly, surprises her.

“I’ve lost my cat,” she whispers tearfully. “I’ve lost my cat and everyone’s going to know the
truth now, except that I still don’t get you, do I?”

She whimpers and arms wrap around her waist. She can hear someone on the phone, maybe her
phone. She doesn’t know.

“Do I?”

Naya doesn’t answer but they both know the truth.


“You’re an idiot.”

Heather stares, wide
eyed at the TV in front of her. She
’s been staring at it all night, letting the
effects of the alcohol slowly wear off and leave a welcome headache behind.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

Ashley sighs.


The only thing she manages to keep is her job and Ashley.

Her friends feel too awkward to cal
l her.

Her sisters don’t know what to say.

She doesn’t pick up her mom’s calls, too scared to listen to the disappointment across the line.

The letter from Taylor’s lawyer comes to the studio lot and she has to deal with finding out he
actually wants to

divorce her in front of everyone she works with.

No one goes after her when she storms off set or asks her anything when she comes back thirty
minutes later needing her make up re


Things get better.

Better meaning that they get a little easie
r to handle…

She manages to answer her mom’s calls and answers all her questions for hours before her mom
says that she needs a little time to process everything. It must be strange having to listen to your
daughter admit that she thinks she’s more gay th
an bi, that she never really wanted to marry her
husband and that she’s been secretly in love with her co
star since the minute she met her. She
guesses she’d need a moment too.

She’s glad for the show’s crappy writing because it means she hardly has to s
ee Naya. The
storyline that she’d been so opposed to mere months before becomes her only lifeline.

She sleeps on Ashley’s couch and stops going out with her friends. There are too many paparazzi
trying to take her picture if she does. She just lays hersel
f out on Ashley’s couch and only moves
when she has to go to work or to meetings with her lawyer.

There’s a lot of discussion because they never got a pre
nup. Taylor’s not an asshole, though,
and, when he says he’ll take the house and doesn’t want any al
imony, she agrees because she
doesn’t know if she can take a reminder of everything she did every month. He tells her she can
have the pets and offers to put her stuff into storage for her, and it’s more than he has to do, so
she nods and finds it hard not

to hug him goodbye.


It’s not her fault.

That’s what she keeps telling herself.

It’s not her fault that Naya’s “dating” everyone she can and going out every night.

It’s not her fault that phrases like “out of control” and “trouble” and “train wreck
” are being
thrown around by trashy news outlets. It’s not her fault because she doesn’t know it’s happening.

All she knows is what she overhears and even then she pretends she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to
know and they can’t force her to.

Still, she hea
rs people whispering about how much of a mess Naya is and can’t help but feel like
she’s somewhat to blame.

She remembers what she said to her that night in snippets and each one makes her feel quietly
worse than the last. She turns over any and all magaz
ines she finds so she can’t see their
headlines, avoids the internet and watches as many movies as she can to get out of her own head.

It works, for a little while, until it doesn’t and she’s just consumed with worry and guilt that her
pride won’t let her

face up to. She wants to ask Kevin how she is sometimes, wants to read the
magazines that Vanessa leaves around. She switches over to E! or Access Hollywood when
Ashley isn’t home and finds herself missing Naya’s face.

When she falls asleep before 3am fo
r the first time in weeks with an episode of
the Insider

paused on Naya’s face, Ashley doesn’t say anything. Heather wakes up at her alarm with a
blanket around her and pretends it never happened.

“You’re worried about her,” Ashley says softly.

Heather j
ust gulps.

“You still love her.”

It’s not a question.

Heather doesn’t answer it.


Her manager comes to her trailer one day.

“You need to explain yourself,” she says softly.

“I don’t need to do anything,” Heather retorts with a mirthless smirk.

r manager sighs. “They think that you broke her heart. They think that you’re the reason she’s
running around Hollywood drinking and doing and fucking whatever the fuck she wants
regardless of writer boyfriends, jobs, contracts… all of it. You need to expl
ain. If anything, you
might take some heat off of her if you tell the truth.”

Heather stops at that. The grip of guilt she’s felt for weeks now tugs at her a little harder than
normal. She breathes out.

“What were you thinking?”


She gapes. “
?!” she lets out a squeak of unamused laughter. “Really?”

“She’ll ask the right questions,” her manager says. “She won’t be rude, she won’t intimidate you,
she won’t judge… she’ll just talk.”

Heather gulps and thinks for a long time. Her manager jus
t stares.

“Fine,” she whispers. “Whatever.”


Things get worse around the time that she’s supposed to be going on

Rumors of Naya being on drugs and being pregnant, sleeping with married politicians and
celebrities, all seem to come to light in
the few days before Heather goes on

to explain
what’s happening. Her manager tells her that Naya’s team have just given up trying to save her
reputation and if this is what Heather wants to do they don’t care what she says.

It doesn’t feel real unti
l she’s sat in a chair beside Ellen and her face is hurting from smiling for
the first time in forever. She sighs and puts her hands in her lap.

“I want to ask you a question,” Ellen says softly. Heather nods in recognition. She knew that
already. “A litt
le while ago there was a video… of you and, uh, a video of you and your co
Naya Rivera and you’re not exactly in the most uncompromising position, let’s say.”

“Yeah,” she nods.

“I know you want to talk about it.”



what happened there?

Her eyes are incredibly kind as they look at Heather. Heather feels her throat burn with tears.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, I guess stuff just happened. It was

“You were fooling around?”

Heather nods.

“But you w
ere married.” It’s a statement.

Heather nods. “I’m not anymore, though.”

“Oh, really?” Ellen’s eyebrows shoot up. She’s waiting, trying to find an in.

“I don’t want to go into it but… uh…” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. It is a big deal. It still
ts. “He asked me for a divorce and I gave him have one.”

She has to hold onto the
What else could I do?

that threatens to leave her mouth. She shrugs
again. It’s becoming a nervous tick.

“He didn’t want to work on it?” Ellen asks. They’ve already talked
about how much she wants to
say backstage but nothing feels like it’s going to come out right.

“He didn’t see the point,” Heather corrects. “He… I guess he felt stupid after what I did. I can
get that. I felt stupid, too. It was a stupid situation.”

n’s eyes spark. “Who made you feel stupid? Your husband?” Heather shakes her head. “Who

Heather gulps and shrugs. “Naya,” she says softly. She laughs awkwardly. Heather feels silly
because she feels like this poor woman is doing her a favor and all

she’s doing is wasting it.

“What’d she make you feel stupid for?”

Heather gulps and her eyes nervously flick to the audience and the cameras.

“Falling in love with her,” she whispers too quietly and then she shrugs. It feels easier to shrug
then, just
to keep her mind off the fact that everyone’s staring at her. Ellen just looks at her and
she doesn’t know what this interview is. Ellen’s interviews are supposed to be funny. She made
the president dance for Christ’s sake. She laughs and sweeps a finger u
nder her eye to wipe away
a tear she hopes no one has noticed yet. “I don’t know,” she whispers nervously.

“People are blaming you for her recent problems, right?”

“I think so,” Heather whispers and wipes away another tear. “I don’t know. I did say some
things. I blamed her a little bit. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not her fault. I’m as much to
blame as she is. She was scared… and stuff. Scared about what would happen if anyone found
out. I get it.”

Ellen reaches over and takes her hand.

l be right back after this.”


“You did great, sweetie,” Ellen winks kindly. She pulls Heather aside. “Listen, here’s

never done this before but I feel like I can help. So here’s my number if you need any advice.
You’re a smart girl.”

Heather nods

and leans in for a hug that Ellen gives her readily.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“It’s fine,” Ellen whispers. “I get it, too.”


The day after the episode airs, she gets back to Ashley’s from the store to find a familiar white
Range Rover parked up ou

Ashley opens the door before she can get scared and drive away and Heather feels an
unnecessary burst of hope and fear swell inside of her.

Why is she here?

“You better come in quick,” Ashley whispers once she gets close enough.

Heather swallow
s when she sees Naya’s jacket slung over the arm of the couch. She walks in and
Ashley closes the door behind her. Heather keeps walking, the groceries in her hands, until she
reaches the kitchen.

Naya’s stood there, tear streaks down her cheeks and a cup

of coffee in her hands.

“I’m going to go… do stuff,” Ashley says and Heather misses the glance that she shares quickly
with Naya before leaving.

Heather works around her, silently putting the groceries in the right places and ignoring she’s
there even t
hough she’s hyper aware of her presence. Her entire body feels warm and tingly
around her. She feels right stood beside her. She basks in it until a hand catches around her wrist
and stops her.

Heather gasps and glances to her out of the corner of her eye
. There are tears rolling down her

“Are you still in love with me?” she asks and it’s so quiet she almost doesn’t hear it.

Heather gulps and takes a moment before nodding timidly. She might as well tell the truth. She
doesn’t know much but she doe
s know that.

Naya’s eyes bulge a little but then she’s swiping her thumb over the bone in Heather’s wrist
that’s still in her hand.

“Then I feel like I should tell you

because I hope it

it might mean something again at some

” Heather watches her cu
riously, confused. “that I am still

in love with you.

Heather’s breath catches and she doesn’t know what to do. “Naya…”

Naya smiles at her, watery and strangely sad. “Just a second,” she whispers. “I’m not done yet.”
She swallows back a whi
mper. “I’m hoping that might mean something again… but I know that
this definitely does…”

Heather frowns and she’s too swept up in getting lost in dark, sad eyes that she doesn’t see Naya
reach into the back pocket of her jeans. She misses her pulling som
ething out, until it’s pressed
firmly and surely into her palm. She frowns in confusion as she takes it.

Her breath hitches when she realizes what it is, strangely, weirdly, right away. She remembers it
from when she was there when her sister took one onc

“Naya…” she whimpers.

Naya breaks down. “I’m sorry,” she chokes. “I’m


Heather gasps and wants to say something comforting to her but she’s too busy looking down at
the item in her hands. Her eyes are too busy searching out what she knows i
s already there. Why
else would Naya be apologizing?

When she finally finds the plus sign, bright and bold there on results window of the perfectly
white stick, she’s not sure if her heart slows down or speeds up.

All she’s aware of is the fact that it’s

still beating.

For that, she’s grateful.

Fic: Enough is Never Quite Enough (2A/3)



Hard R




None of this is true.

It feels like a beginning.


Normal rules apply. It’s open for the first

48 hours before I friend lock it. All mistakes are
my own.



I need some air,” she stutters after a moment.

It must say something that, out of all the things that have happened to her recently, this news
brings out the most visceral r
eaction in her.

She feels like she’s been punched in the chest.

She can’t breathe and she watches Naya’s face fall as she turns away from her, stumbling when
she walks out of the kitchen. Tears stream down Naya’s cheeks but Heather is too busy feeling
ke she’s being suffocated to pay any attention.


No… Stop. Don’t

don’t leave…” Naya cries desperately, following her. “I’m sorry. I’m


Heather halts at the request and tries her hardest to breathe out so that she might calm down. She
s and blinks and then opens her mouth, willing herself to speak. It’s more difficult than
anything else she’s done in a while.


it’s fine,” she manages to whisper.

Naya scoffs at the words and a whimper escapes her. “It’s

fine,” she cries and pr
esses a hand
to Heather’s back that she instantly removes when Heather stiffens at the touch. “It’s not.” She
pauses. “Heather, I’m

” she trails off awkwardly. “Heather, I might be… I might be preg

Heather doesn’t know whether to laugh, that there’s ano
ther important thing Naya can’t manage
to say, or feel hopeful that this worry might not even be warranted yet. Instead, she just swallows
and breathes.

“It changes things,” Naya whispers.

Heather shrugs. “Does it?”

A hand presses to her back again and
she tries not to stiffen this time. When she feels it drift
down and around her waist it gets a little more difficult, it becomes impossible. When a nose
presses warmly to the base of her neck, warm breaths brushing against her skin, she feels like she
ht stop breathing at the sensation.

“We love each other,” Naya whispers and Heather feels a tear roll down her cheek at the
reminder. She swipes it away quickly. “We love each other. I love
. You told the entire world
that you fell in love with me. Tha
t means something.”

Heather gulps after a few moments of silence. “I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

Naya whimpers against the back of her neck and Heather would peel Naya away from her body
if she wasn’t that sure putting her hands on her woul
d be the last thing she needed to give in.

“I want you to say something,” Naya whispers. “I just want you to talk to me.”

Heather nods. She curls her fists into the front of her jeans and breathes in. She tries to think of
anything she might say to satis
fy her but the words she does say shocks them both.

“Is it Matt’s?” she asks and Naya flinches against her. She breathes out. “I mean, could it be

“No,” she whispers after a moment. “No, we broke up a while ago. I mean

whatever we might
have had

finished forever ago.” She turns quieter then. “I don’t know whose it could be,” she
whispers shamefully. Heather doesn’t know if that makes things better or worse.

She feels both.

“Why are you here, Naya?” she asks softly. Her voice sounds too calm.

aya sniffs and nuzzles into her skin. “Because I fucked up,” she admits. “I fucked up my entire
life. I stopped giving a shit because I thought it might make me stop feeling so guilty about how I
treated you. I thought it was the right thing to do, but the
n, a few days ago, I saw you on TV.”
She swallows at the tightness that plagues her voice. “I watched you tell everyone the truth and I
started giving a shit again. But the minutes I stopped acting like an idiot I realized the fact that I
was puking so muc
h wasn’t because I was hungover. I remembered everything that I’d fought so
hard to forget and I just… I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive.” She shrugs and
sniffs. “I told my mom first, then my manager, then my family and they all said the sa
me thing.
None of them care. They think it’s just another stupid thing I’ve done and told me to get a
damn…” She trails off and Heather feels her shudder. She wants to shudder too. “They said it’s
the only thing that could help. They said that it’s the onl
y thing I can do to start fixing everything
that I broke except… I don’t know if I can do that and I don’t know what to do.”

Heather laughs mirthlessly even as she feels an uncomfortable weight of panic settle in her
stomach. It’s new and unfamiliar and d
oesn’t really make sense.

“What makes you think that I have a clue?” she says honestly. She’s not exactly the poster child
of the perfect life, right now. She shakes her head. “This is your
, Naya. I can’t tell you how
to live it. Sometimes

things don’t turn out how you expect them or want them to.
Sometimes you have to deal with stuff you never thought you’d have to.”

Naya shrugs and pulls back. Her forehead rests on Heather’s shoulder blade. “I still don’t know
what to do.”

“Well, what do

, Naya?” she breathes. “Not what you think you want but what you
. Stop thinking about everything, stop caring about everyone else and figure out
what you need to make you happy. Stop thinking about what everyone else thinks is good f
you. Stop thinking about me and just… do what you need to do.”

Hands grip around her elbows then and urge her around. She goes with it, until she realizes how
close to Naya she is when they’re face to face.

“I need to be with you,” Naya whispers and i
t’s almost everything Heather’s wanted to hear and
everything she can’t bear to listen to right now. “I need you with me.”

“Because I’m the only one left?” she asks softly.

Naya’s face falls.

“Because I love you,” she whispers softly. “I love you and yo
u told everyone you’re in love with

The sincerity in her eyes almost makes Heather give in but she can’t.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Heather whispers. “It doesn’t mean anything’s changed. I would
have told everyone that years ago but you wouldn’t

let me because you were scared. ”

Naya opens her mouth to speak but Heather cuts through her. She reaches up to cup her cheek on
a whim and regrets it instantly. It makes her crack a little.

“I’m in love with you,” she whispers, her voice breaking. Naya
’s face softens completely. “So
much that I think it might kill me, except I don’t even

you right now. I don’t even know who
you really are. I don’t even think you do.” She shrugs. “I would love to be with you but I can’t,
Naya, I can’t. I can be your

friend, but I really think you need to figure out who you are and what
you want before anything else can happen.”

Naya’s face falls and tears stream down her cheeks. Heather wipes them away reverently, breath
uneven at the wetness on the thumbs.

“You do
n’t want me?” Naya chokes hopelessly.

Heather smiles and shakes her head. “It’s not about what I want,” she breathes. “Plus,” she tries
to smile. “It might not just be you that I’m getting.”

Naya’s confused at first but then her face falls with realizati
on. Her hand subconsciously falls to
her stomach as she bursts into terrified sobs but, it’s okay.

For a while, everything’s okay because Heather wraps her arms around her and holds her tight.


She asks Heather to go to with her to her doctor’s appoin
tment a week later. She asks her if she’ll
come in with her and hold her hand when she finds out but Heather swallows and shakes her
head, promising that she’ll be there in the waiting room when she gets out.

It doesn’t work so well because, ten minutes i
nto the appointment, the doctor steps out and says
that Naya’s asking for her.

When Heather steps inside and Naya’s laid on the examination table, sobbing with every single
inch of her being, she doesn’t even need to ask what’s going on. She swipes a nerv
ous hand over
her eyes and worms her hand into Naya’s as she sits down, looking toward the doctor.

“Eight and a half weeks,” he tells her softly, picking up on the mood easily. Heather shudders out
a breath and nods nervously.

She’s never felt further aw
ay from Naya, even as she’s flashing her the most reassuring smile she
can manage.


She gives Naya a few days to work out what she wants to do but, while she does, they try to get
back on better terms. They both move slowly. For the first time in weeks
, they actually
acknowledge each other at work and they say hello and goodbye before they leave each day.

Heather feels strangely nervous about everything, terrified that Naya’s going to get scared and
make the wrong decision. She doesn’t want her to get
rid of this baby for the wrong reasons. She
doesn’t want her to regret it. At the same time, she’s not sure why she cares so much.

She’s equal parts terrified and relieved when, a few days later, someone knocks on Ashley’s
front door at eleven o’clock at
night and it turns out to be Naya. Ashley excuses herself to bed
and Heather moves to the kitchen, too nervous to do anything else.

“Do you want a drink?” She gestures to the fridge.

Naya shakes her head. “No, I’m

I’m good.”


Naya nods with cert
ainty. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m

I’ve decide what I’m going to do.”

Heather gulps and waits, hands clutched at the counter. She nods for her to continue.

Naya laughs awkwardly but then her face drops into fear.

“I’m gonna keep it,” she nods softly. “I’m go
nna keep it,” she repeats and it’s obvious she hasn’t
said it out loud yet from the way her eyes go wide and watery. “I’m going to keep the…”

Heather’s eyes widen and she looks straight at Naya. It feels like it’s first time she’s looked at
her properly i
n ages. It probably is. She feels full of respect and pride and they’re two things she
hasn’t felt for Naya in a while. It feels good.

“Yeah?” she asks quietly to make sure.

Naya’s head bobs adamantly as she nods. “Yeah,” she says softly and then, before

she knows it,
Heather’s got her wrapped into a hug.


They’re friends.

In a weird way, it’s like they’re the only friends each other has. No one else seems to get it. They
don’t know what to say or what to ask. Whenever she sees her friends, they kind

of just sit there
in silence, not sure how to ask
“How are you since a sex tape of you fucking your co
star was
released online and your husband left you?”

It’s just too obscene to try.

With Naya, she can just sit there in silence and they can avoid tal
king about their problems and
the huge elephant in the room between them.

That’s the only difficult thing: the feelings.

She catches Naya looking at her sometimes. They’ll be sat in one of each other’s trailers and
she’ll hear something and look up and f
ind her, sitting there on the couch

with a hand on her
be bloating stomach

watching her softly, in a way she’s never been privy to before.

Heather always opens her mouth to say something but Naya cuts her off before she can try.

“You know the bab
y has eyelids and everything now…”

She always says something to do with the baby and it’s completely distracting in a way that
makes Heather fill with a million different things. Her stomach buzzes with butterflies and her
head goes fuzzy. It shuts her up


It gives her a million more important things to worry about, and the fact that Naya is staring at
her is nothing in comparison.


Naya asks her not to tell anyone. Heather thinks that it’s because she’s not sure but Naya
explains, when the
y’re sat in her trailer one day, that she’s only really scared that about
something bad happening and people judging her.

Heather believes her completely and is quietly glad for whatever best friend protectiveness
Ashley subjected Naya to before she arriv
ed at her house that day. It means that she has at least
one person around her that knows why she’s so jittery and weird all the time, who knows what’s
going through her head. It means that they can have the occasional, disconnected conversation
about Naya
’s struggles and Heather can offload a little.

She just hates the way that everyone treats Naya.

She almost hates it as much as she hates how everyone looks at her for talking to Naya. They
already looked at her like she was about to fall apart and now t
hey look at her like she’s an idiot
for being her friend again.

It makes her want to scream at them that they don’t know anything but she can’t, so that’s why
she’s left telling Ashley about how another crew member completely ignored Naya today or that
e heard people gossiping about her at lunch.

It’s better than only having Naya, even if Ashley looks worried about her sometimes, like she
can see things happening that Heather can’t.

It’s not perfect, but it’s all she has right now.


Heather has wor
k the day of her twelve week check
up and she feels nervous all day, going
through the motions until it’s time to go home and wait for Naya to drop by like she said she
would. Ashley isn’t home and Heather’s glad because once she’s changed and showered, sh
e sits
on the couch and worries herself into a mess that doesn’t let up until Naya’s pulling up outside.

“Look,” she says quietly the minute that the door’s closed. Heather doesn’t tell her that Ashley’s
not there because she’s too hypnotized by the secre
tive hum of her voice, how excited and happy
she sounds.

Instead, she takes what she’s being handed and has to take a steady breath at what she sees.

It’s a damn sonogram.

“It has a heartbeat,” Naya whispers hurriedly. Her finger presses to the picture.

“There was a tiny
flickering heartbeat, right there, and it was just

Heather nods because she can remember going with her sister to an appointment once. It was the
weirdest thing ever but this doesn’t feel weird. It feels like nothing she’s ever felt b
efore and she
swallows away the need to sob as she clutches the sonogram in her hand.

She thinks she’s doing okay until Naya tells her that she can keep that one, that she has more.
She takes it from Heather’s hand and steps over to the fridge, finding on
e of their alphabet
magnets and fixing it there. Heather has to fight everything in her that wants to step over there
and take it back, to clutch it to her chest and sleep with it under her pillow.

When Naya pulls her in for a hug and squeezes her tight,
it gets a little harder to be okay.
Especially when her cheek is rubbing into Heather’s shoulder and her fingertips are so firm into
her skin that it hurts.

“I wish you’d been there,” she whispers and when she tries to pull back, Heather just clutches

closer. She doesn’t want her to see the tears in her eyes.

“Me too,” she whispers and she’s pretty sure her voice betrays her. She laughs a little and
excuses herself to the bathroom before Naya can see.

It doesn’t matter. Naya still looks at her knowin
gly when she returns anyway.


Later that night, she goes into the kitchen and takes the picture from the fridge. She sits on the
couch for an hour looking at it, convincing herself that she’ll put it back in a minute and go to

Another hour late
r, she’s still there, tracing the weird outline of the apparent tiny human being
etched there and trying not to think of things she doesn’t want to have buzzing around her head,
making her heart feel bigger.

She gets to another hour later and gives up on
all of it, holding the sonogram reverently between
her fingers as she pulls the blanket around her and looks at it until it’s burned into her eyelids.

“Heather,” Ashley tries, when she finds her like that the morning after.

Heather shakes her head to qui
et her and wordlessly puts the sonogram back on the fridge.


It’s not until she’s fourteen weeks that Heather actually physically notices that it’s actually

Work is on hiatus and they’ve both got nowhere else to be so they’ve been hanging o
ut together.

Naya falls asleep on Ashley’s couch one day for no reason whatsoever. Her cold toes are tucked
under Heather’s thigh and Heather can’t find it in her to move away or get up, so she just stays
there and keeps reading her book until Ashley knoc
ks over something in her room. Naya jolts
awake and Heather reaches for her when she almost falls of the side of the couch.

Naya smiles at her gratefully before sitting up. The blanket falls off of her when she stretches up
and Heather’s eyes automaticall
y fall to her stomach when she sees her shirt stretching up.

That’s when she finally sees it. The tiny swell of her stomach, the rounded edges Naya never
possessed there before. Heather’s eyes widen and she gasps without meaning to. Naya lets her
arms dro
p and narrows her eyes at her curiously.

“What?” she asks confused.

Heather lifts her hand and points, her mouth not really wanting to work around words right now.
She clears her throat a few times before laughing awkwardly.

“You’re pregnant,” she final
ly manages to whisper.

Naya’s face falls and then she grins. She laughs and then drifts her hand down to push up another
of the loose
fitting shirts she’s taken to wearing to reveal her stomach. She still hasn’t told
anyone yet, even though she knows it’s

safe. Heather thinks she’s just worried about how they’ll
react, that they might ruin this quiet excitement in her that seems to be growing with every day.

Heather hasn’t questioned it. She kind of likes being one of the few people that knows. She likes
being the person that everything is shared with. She likes moments like these when Naya’s shyly
rubbing her fingers over her tiny new bump. They make her feel important.

“A little bit,” Naya comments with a shy smile, lying back down.

Heather returns it
and then reaches out to gently poke her in the tummy with the tip of her finger.
She doesn’t expect Naya to chuckle and take her hand before pressing it to her stomach. She
holds her breath to steady herself before breathing out. She wants to move her hand

but she
can’t. She likes the way her hand curves over Naya’s skin, the way that Naya’s hand is warm
over hers.

“Can you feel anything yet?” she asks. Naya shakes her head.

“Not really,” she says, her hand relaxes over Heather’s. “It’s weird. Sometimes I

feel like I do. It
just feels like… butterflies or something.”

Heather looks at her hand on Naya’s stomach when Naya lets her own fall away and plays with
the cuff of Heather’s sweatshirt instead.

“It’ll be soon, though,” Heather says softly.

Naya look
s at her softly and smiles. “I hope so,” she whispers and Heather looks away, feeling
like she’s talking about something else.


Naya makes it to seventeen weeks before anyone finds out.

By the time they do, Heather finds it really hard to care because

she’s got more important things
to worry about.

Like the fact that she’s getting a call from the hospital at 3:24 in the morning telling her that
Naya’s been in an accident and she’s been marked down as her next of kin.

All she hears is “accident” and i
t isn’t until she finds Naya sitting up and talking to one of the
nurses that she can think of anything else.

She hugs Naya tightly and then pulls back to check her over, only realizing then that the nurse
she’s talking to is applying steri
strips to a cu
t on her hairline. She clicks her tongue and feels her
worry spike again.

“Everything’s fine,” Naya tells her quickly. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“What the hell happened?” Heather whispers. “I mean… why the hell were you driving
anywhere at three in
the morning anyway?”

Naya blushes then and laughs. She tugs on Heather’s hand until she’s sat at the edge of the bed.
The nurse finishes applying a dressing pad to Naya’s head and leaves with a knowing, kind
smile, closing the curtain behind them.

“I got

a craving,” Naya admits guiltily. “I wanted a damn burger. I tried to go to sleep and just
forget it but I couldn’t so I thought I’d quickly go get one, but…” She rolls her eyes and groans.
“Someone started following me

a paparazzi, I think

and I kept pay
ing more attention to him
than on the road. I broke hard so I didn’t hit the guy in front of me but failed. I’m pretty sure the
pap hung around long enough to hear me admit to the EMTs that I was pregnant, though, so…
that’ll be fun.”

Heather clicks her t
ongue. “Fuck that. Who cares as long as you’re okay?” She shakes her head.
“You’re sure you’re okay, right?”

Naya rolls her eyes and pulls her back in for another hug. “I’m fine,” she whispers. “Apart from
still really needing a fucking burger, but… I’ll

Heather snuggles into her shoulder and sighs. “I thought something bad had happened.”

“I’m fine,” Naya promises. “We’re both fine.”

Heather feels silly when she starts crying, more from relief than anything. Naya chuckles and
rubs her back.

ry,” Heather whispers around her sniffles. “Sorry.”

“No,” Naya whispers. “Don’t be sorry.”


Ashley texts her, as they’re letting Naya go from the hospital, to let her know that it’s all over the
internet. Heather sighs and when she looks up she finds
Naya looking at her knowingly.

“It’s out?” she asks softly.

Heather nods and pockets her phone. “Yeah.”

Naya reaches into her jacket for her phone. She hands it to Heather wordlessly. “Can you, um,
can you handle that for me? I turned it off to save the


Heather takes it and nods, understanding what she wants. “Sure,” she whispers and then pockets
that one too. “Let’s get you home first.”

Naya pauses and looks at her. “Can we

Heather laughs. “Yes, we can get you a damn burger,” she says, un
prepared for when Naya
wraps her in a hug and kisses her sloppily on the cheek.


Naya’s clutching a bag of food to her chest by the time that they pull up at Ashley’s place.
Ashley’s up waiting for them and she looks relieved when she sees them.

k God. I thought you were going to go back to Naya’s…” she mumbles and then she sees
the bag of food in Naya’s hands. “What the hell?”

Naya ignores her and moves to the couch to start eating. Heather watches her as she kicks off her
shoes and turns the TV

onto something else. She sips coffee in the kitchen with Ashley until
Naya eventually lies down and falls asleep within seconds. Ashley rolls her eyes before
wandering back to her room to get ready for the day. Heather smiles and shifts Naya until she’s
ore comfortable, then covers her with a blanket before sitting on the floor in front of her.

She turns down the volume on the TV and reaches for Naya’s phone, finding her own charger
and plugging it in before she turns it on. There’s a million messages on

there already and she just
sighs and scrolls through them. They’re all friends, family, work colleagues, her manager, her
publicist, asking her if she’s really pregnant over and over again. None of them ask her if she’s
okay and Heather just shuts it off
annoyed and tosses it onto the coffee table.

The sleep suddenly starts to kick in.

“Why don’t you go sleep on my bed?” Ashley says as she comes down and finds her falling

Heather just nods and gets up.

She’s pretty sure she blacks out the min
ute her head hits the pillow.


She wakes up and the bed is more comfortable than she knows what to do with. It’s a long while
now since she slept on an actual bed. It makes her feel sleepier and more awake all at once so
she snuggles into the pillows b
eneath her head before breathing out happily and trying to slip
back into whatever dream she’d been having.

She’s almost away on some distant beach, sunning herself under some warm sun when she hears
a phone going off. She groans and grabs for it without
even wondering where it is and holds it to
her ear before clicking the accept button.

She doesn’t hear anything; she just fills with panic. Then she’s in her car for reasons she doesn’t
understand and she’s driving to some location she doesn’t actually kn
ow. She pulls to a stop and
climbs out of the car quicker than anything. She runs and she doesn’t know where she’s running,
stumbles and gasps when she sees the upturned wreck of a white range rover ahead of her. She’s
sure she whimpers with the ache of se
eing it before ignoring everything around her and stepping
towards it.

She hears herself call Naya’s name over and over again, hears her own name being called back
to her before slipping onto the ground and reaching for Naya. Everything looks weird, disto
and Naya looks terrified. She hears herself promising that everything will be okay and takes
Naya’s hand when she grabs for her and sobs. The panic feels like her heart is breaking. She
hears herself asking if Naya’s okay but only really wants to hear

the answer if it’s positive. She
guesses that Naya’s answer isn’t, though, because she feels herself whimpering, sobbing and
then screaming for help. She feels herself falling apart at the sight of blood and Naya’s tears.

She hears herself praying, beggi
ng and she doesn’t know what to do. She hears Naya sobbing
about the baby and about how much pain she’s in. She feels her prayers slip loudly from her own
lips, begging and pleading with anyone that can hear. She doesn’t even know what she’s saying.
She ju
st wants someone to save them.

Ambulances come and then, in what feels like a second, they’re racing through a hospital

same hospital she’s sure she was in mere hours ago

and the same nurse that put steri
strips on
Naya’s cut is holding Heather back a
nd telling her she can’t go with them. She feels herself
sobbing and all she can manage to think about is the fact that Naya can’t leave her; she can’t go
anywhere, because just the thought of her not being there makes Heather’s heart break. Her
heart’s be
en so set on Naya for so long that it doesn’t feel fair.

She sobs because she can hear shouting and she can hear crying, she can hear a baby crying but
that doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense because it’s not time yet. The baby’s not
ed to be born yet. It’s not time.

Then there’s a doctor and he has no face and he’s telling Heather that she’s dead, they’re both
dead. “Your girls are dead,” he says and Heather doesn’t really listen because her legs are
buckling and she thinks the nurse

is catching her before she falls and


Heather gasps and grabs for the hands that shake her. She grasps for them and clutches their
owner to her with sleepy
clarity, not really awake yet.

“Heather,” Ashley whispers. “What

Heather, why are you


It’s then that she realizes that the reason she can’t really see is more because of her tears and less
because she’s so sleepy. She doesn’t really feel sleepy at all. She just feels terrified. She feels

“Is Naya okay?” she chokes agai
nst her shoulder, clutching herself to Ashley. Ashley shushes
her tears and strokes at the back of her neck to calm her down. She doesn’t answer her right
away and it makes Heather panic. “Is

is Naya okay?” she repeats.

Ashley pushes her back and looks at

her curiously. “She’s fine, Sweetie,” she whispers. “Did

” She sighs when she realizes what’s happening. “It was just a dream, Heather.”

Heather nods, feeling silly when she realizes that she’s still on Ashley’s bed from earlier. She
gasps and cries
again because she hates her subconscious. She hates how real everything felt.

“She was

she was

she died…” she breathes. “They both… they both just…”

Ashley whispers consoling words into her ear and clutches her closer. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she
coos. “
It was just a dream. She’s fine.”

Heather hiccups. “Where is she?”

Ashley loosens her grip. “I took her home a couple hours ago. It’s like… six. I was making
dinner and I heard you crying.”

The thought of Naya being alone fills Heather with terror. She
falls back and sighs. “I

I…” she
tries but she doesn’t know what she wants to say.

Ashley just smiles sadly. “You love her,” she says.

Heather scoffs. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she mumbles and shakes her head. “I just… I
hate her being alone. I h
ate the thought that no one is looking after her.”

“She’s an adult,” Ashley reminds her knowingly.

“She’s pregnant,” Heather retorts. “It’s not just…” she trails off. “She’s not just looking after
herself anymore.”

Ashley’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think

she’s capable…?”

Heather clicks her tongue and shakes her head at Ashley. “I don’t mean that,” she argues
quickly. “I just mean… someone should be looking after her. Someone should be there, just in

Ashley’s eyes soften and then her eyebrows rise

pointedly in Heather’s direction.

Heather doesn’t even need her to speak. She knows what she’s going to say.

It’s obvious.

Fic: Enough is Never Quite Enough (2B/3)

Part 2a

for notes.


Heather bites her lip and shifts the duffle a little more comfortably onto her shoulder. Naya’s
eyes narrows and Heather tries to ignore the way that her hand comes to rest comfortably on the
swell of her stomach. She tries not to notice how st
anding on this doorstep feels a lot like she’s
finally coming home.

“Can I move in?”

Naya looks at her worriedly, curious and concerned. She opens the door a little wider and
Heather shuffles closer, waiting for her answer.

“Did something happen with As

Heather shakes her head.


“I just want to live with you,” Heather says quickly and winces a little at how it sounds. She
shakes her head. “I want to look after you,” she clarifies.

Naya’s eyes widen.

“Oh,” she says softly and then she no
ds quickly. “Okay.”

Heather nods and swallows.

Naya strokes her stomach once, a new habit, before nodding.

“Then you better come in.”


She sleeps in one of Naya’s spare bedrooms and it’s strange at first. She convinces herself that
the reason she ca
n’t sleep is because she’s not used to the bed or the room or the sounds of the

After a few days she blames the fact that she’s worried about the press and how they’re reacting
to the news, to the fact that people saw Heather taking Naya hom
e from the hospital. After two
weeks she realizes that she can’t blame it on that because she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care if
people know that she’s been coming back here every day like they do. All she cares about is

It takes her another couple o
f days to work out that the reason why she can’t sleep is that her
subconscious knows that Naya’s just across the hall. Her body and her subconscious know how
close Naya is and that that’s where they want to be. They’re both stubbornly waiting for her to
ive in but she won’t let them control her.

She’d rather not sleep than give in. She knows what’s right and wrong in this situation, what she
should and shouldn’t be doing to keep herself safe.

She calls it a special circumstance when Naya calls her into
her room at one in the morning,
shouting her name so frantically that Heather’s almost having a heart attack by the time she gets

“What? What’s wrong?!” she asks, eyes still bleary and half

Naya just shakes her head and reaches for her, tu
gs her down onto the bed once she’s close
enough and stares into space like she’d been when Heather came in.



Heather does as she’s told and lets Naya guide her hand where she wants it as she settles back
down against the mattress. Sh
e brings it to the side of her stomach and lets it rest there. Her eyes
are wide and focused and Heather just stares as Naya presses her hand so hard into her stomach
that she almost wants to pull it away.

That’s when she feels it: the small, burst of mov
ement against her hand, strong and sure and
definitely there. She gasps and Naya’s face erupts into a smile in the lamp light. Her eyes widen
and fill with tears and she laughs when she feels it again.

“You felt it?” Naya asks to make sure. “You felt it m

Heather nods and she acts without thinking. Her body shifts down the bed and she presses her
face to Naya’s stomach without pausing to ask. She feels something flutter against her cheek,
against her hand and she breathes out, suddenly tired.


hand falls to rest on her head and she sighs contentedly. She suddenly feels so exhausted,
so relieved, that nothing else really matters.

“She’s going to be a dancer,” she hears herself whisper.

When Naya speaks, her voice sounds thick and watery. “She?
” she asks in confusion. No one
except the doctor knows what it is yet. “You think it’s going to be a girl?”

“Yeah,” Heather nods and then she’s asleep before she knows it.


She’s obsessed with it.

It’s not her fault; it’s just that Naya won’t stop g
rabbing her hand every single time there’s the
tiniest flutter and pressing it there. She would tell her to stop if she wasn’t so sure it was
innocent. It’s not like she’s trying to do anything with it. Every time the baby kicks it’s like she’s
not sure if

it’s really happening, like it can’t be real, and she

Heather to feel it too, just to
reassure her.

Heather doesn’t mind; she’s here to help in whatever way she can. It’s just that every single
damn time that she feels that tiny movement against he
r hand she feels just as close to this tiny
thing inside Naya as Naya probably does. No one else’s hands get grabbed. Not Dianna or
Vanessa or Kevin or Telly. In fact, if she’s with them, Naya doesn’t even acknowledge what
she’s feeling out loud.

It’s tes
tament to just how close Heather’s gotten to the both of them when she notices it anyway.
She can always tell when the baby’s moving because Naya’s eyes go wide and glassy, her hand
presses a little harder to her stomach. It’s the most beautiful thing Heat
her’s ever seen but can’t
comment on out loud and she stays awake thinking about it every night, letting it drive her
absolutely crazy with obsession.

“You look exhausted,” Naya comments idly when they’re sat on the couch watching TV one
night. Naya’s fee
t are in Heather’s lap from where she’s been rubbing the ache from them
quietly. Heather stops and breathes in, not realizing that she’s been lost in a daydream and has
missed half the show. Naya clicks her tongue. “When was the last time you got a good ni
sleep?” she asks. “You look terrible…”

Heather tries to smile. “Thanks.”

Naya nudges her with a foot. “I’m serious,” she says. Heather doesn’t argue when Naya shifts
around to sit up and pulls her until her head is sharing Naya’s lap with the protr
usion of her
bump. “Why are you so tired?”

Heather shakes her head. “Can’t sleep,” she admits and then there’s a hand in her hair and she
can smell Naya’s skin, feel the warm glow of her body, and she suddenly feels like the only thing

do is the o
ne thing she just said she couldn’t. “I don’t know…” she shrugs. “Things are

Naya nods and her fingers stroke through Heather’s hair, over her shoulders. It’s too
comfortable, too intimate, and she has to fight everything in her that wants to just

lean forward
and press her cheek to Naya’s stomach.

“I should get up,” she whispers but she doesn’t move.

Naya scratches at her scalp softly and tugs her until she’s so close that her nose presses to Naya’s

“You don’t have to,” Naya says softly a
nd, in that moment, it’s all the permission she needs.


She falls asleep like that often. She just goes with it whenever Naya pulls her closer and allows
her to rest her head there.

It gets worse when Naya starts pulling her to her bedroom with her wh
en she gets up to go to
sleep. Heather’s always too tired to argue and just falls into the empty spot beside Naya and lets
Naya guide her hand to her bump. She always wakes up closer than she fell asleep, her chin
resting on Naya’s shoulder or her face bur
ied in her hair as her arm wraps around Naya’s
stomach, her hand pressed too low to be friendly.

Those are the worst days and she always wakes up to the uneven sound of Naya’s already awake
breathing, the shudder in her chest. It’s a sound and a feeling s
he’s too
used to, one that she
knows the meaning of inherently, and she rolls away from Naya without even thinking because
that’s something she can’t bear to think about.

Except she does with the increasing frequency that it happens and, in the end, she e
nds up lying
awake beside Naya knowing that she’s probably lying on her side thinking about it too.

She only gives in and rolls over to wrap her arm around her because it’s more exhausting not to.

It still takes her longer to fall asleep.

She doesn’t ca


“So, are you two…” Kevin pauses and narrows his eyes. “…back together?”

Naya’s in the bathroom for about the hundredth time in the past hour and they’re eating burgers
for what feels like the hundredth time this month.

“Can’t be back together if

you were never together to begin with,” Heather comments softly.

“Yeah, but…” Telly says softly. “You’re together now, right?”

Heather puts down her fries and sighs before shaking her head.

They both give her a knowing smile.

She doesn’t have it in he
r to return it.


She’s supposed to be out all afternoon but her lunch with her sister is quiet and awkward, when
Heather can’t tell her the things she wants to hear, and her agent cancels their meeting at the last
minute with an emergency.

She’s suppo
sed to be gone until at least six but it’s only two and she has nothing left to do, so she
grabs Naya some lunch and heads back, regretting it instantly when she walks through the front
door and the first thing she hears is moaning.

At first, she thinks s
omeone’s in pain so she rushes towards it, realizing her mistake when she
gets to Naya’s bedroom and finds her touching herself to whatever’s on the screen of her

Heather shouts at her mistake and Naya yelps in surprise. They avoid each other’s
eyes for a
moment and Heather finds herself smirking as she settles the bag of food on the nearby dresser
before covering her eyes.

“Didn’t mean to… interrupt,” she says softly and then the awkwardness sets in a little. What’s
she supposed to do now? “I’l
l just… I’m just going to go to the store. Do you want anything?”

Naya doesn’t say anything, just swallows so loudly it can be heard from across the room.

Heather leaves and presses herself to the front door once she’s out of it. She drives around for an

hour before coming back and finding Naya sat on the couch watching TV.

They don’t talk about it and Heather sleeps in her own bed for the first time in weeks.


It’s not until a few days later that she really starts to notice how much Naya’s strugglin
g. She
finds her curled up on her bed surrounded by pillows, a hand clutching her back as she whimpers
in pain.

First it was her feet, then her hips, then her thighs, now her back, she sometimes finds it hard to
breathe when she lies weirdly… Heather does
n’t envy her at all.

“Hurting?” she asks softly. Naya nods, her face tight with pain. Heather makes a noise of
understanding. “C’mere,” she whispers. “Sit up, take off your shirt.”

Naya doesn’t question it and Heather just goes to get the aromatherapy oi
ls someone suggested
to Naya a while ago before returning.

Naya looks at her in relief and it surprises Heather a little when she reaches to unclasp her bra
too. Naya just gives her a look.

“This was expensive,” she says and Heather just nods and moves b
ehind her, brushing her hair
over her shoulder before beginning to rub her back. The smell of lavender and chamomile is a
little overwhelming for a while but then she gets used to it, too busy finding all the knots in
Naya’s back.

After a while, Naya sigh
s and relaxes into her touch. Heather breathes a sigh of relief at the sight
of it and makes her movements gentler, softer, wanting to ease the pain away slowly. She thinks
that it’s working until Naya shifts away and tells her to stop.

“Am I hurting you?
” she asks softly, frowning in confusion when Naya grabs for her shirt and
covers her chest.

“I… no, no, Heather…” she swallows visibly and Heather notices for the first time how out of
breath she is, how flushed her skin is. Realization sinks into Heathe
r then. She shifts back
nervously and Naya sees it, laughing and shaking her head sadly. “Stupid fucking hormones,”
she whispers. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Heather says instantly.

Naya laughs then. “Yes, I do,” she argues. “I really do

and I just…” she trails off and laughs
before burying her head into her hands embarrassed.


Naya looks at her and then down at the comforter.

“I can’t…” she whispers. “I can’t…” She purses her lips and groans. “You’re driving me crazy.”

’s face falls. “I…” she tries. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No,” Naya says, stopping her with a hand to her wrist. “I mean… you’re driving me



Heather gulps. “How are you dealing with… that?”

Naya peers up at her and gives her a look that sho
uts that she’s doing everything she can. It also
shouts that nothing’s working.

“I tried but, um…” Naya shakes her head. “Everything just makes me more stressed. I can’t stop
thinking about…”

“Naya,” Heather warns. Naya looks down again, chastised. Heath
er feels terrible. She gets up. “I
need some air.”

Naya just nods and lets her leave.


She doesn’t know how it makes her feel, knowing that she’s probably the one thing that’s
making Naya feel more uncomfortable. She takes a drive to Griffith Park and

walks around there
for hours, debating her options.

She debates moving out and putting distance between them but realizes that, while it will make
herself feel better, it will probably just make Naya feel worse.

She debates buying her a toy that will be

able to satisfy her but guesses that maybe Naya’s
already tried that.

It feels obvious what she has to do and, as much as she tries to convince herself that she doesn’t
want to, she knows that she does. She always has and she grudgingly wanders back to h
er car to
drive back.

She guesses she can go there, if she has another excuse to do it. If she’s helping Naya then, she
guesses it’s okay.


She doesn’t let Naya speak, just pulls her up from where she’s sitting on the couch and tugs her
upstairs. Naya

tries to protest but then she realizes what Heather’s doing and gives in. By the
time that Heather’s pushing her down onto the edge of bed, Naya’s shuddering.

Heather kicks off her shoes before reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her he
Naya stares and swallows and doesn’t argue when Heather kneels between her legs and begins to
unfasten the buttons on her shirt. She drags it down her arms as Naya’s eyes turn big and dark
and beautiful. They make nerves begin to buzz in Heather’s stom

She ignores them and urges Naya back against the mountain of pillows, rearranges them around
her so that she’s comfortable.

“Heather,” Naya whispers when Heather reaches for sweats and tugs them down her legs,
underwear coming down with them.

er leaves her own on and crawls up over Naya, smiling nervously when Naya looks up at
her confused. “You okay?” she asks softly. Naya nods.

Heather brushes Naya’s hair off her shoulder and realizes she doesn’t know what to do now. She
doesn’t want to kiss

her. She feels like that would make her selfish and would take away the fact
that she wants to do this for Naya and only for her, like a back massage. That’s why she isn’t
really looking anywhere but her face.

“What do you need?” she whispers softly.

ya gulps and her hands reach up grip at her elbows, pulling her closer.

“You,” she whispers. “Just you.”


Kissing her, she soon realizes, would be as good as admitting everything she knows in her chest,
so she refuses it, buries her head into the pill
ow beside Naya’s head and just works her hand
between Naya’s legs until she moans against her ear and shudders with release.

“Better?” she whispers after a few moments and Naya’s eyes flutter exhaustedly as she nods in

Heather strokes her hair
from her face again and reaches for a blanket, pulling it over her. Naya
smiles and tugs at her arm, pulls her close to her and doesn’t look surprised when Heather turns
her face away so that Naya hits her cheek instead.

“Thank you,” she whispers and Heat
her’s stomach churns. She doesn’t want Naya to ever say
thank you for that.

She shakes her head and kisses the back of Naya’s hand, sits with her until she falls asleep and
then leaves, wondering if she can do this.


She’s still not sure if she can do

it when it happens again a week or so later, or again a couple
more days after that. Whenever Naya taps her on the knee and tells her that her back hurts, it
makes her spine tingle and she nods in understanding.

She spends the night easing the ache of th
e knots in her back before she rolls Naya over and
eases the ache between her legs.

They don’t speak and, slowly, the more and more it happens, the harder it gets to just hover
above her and mechanically do the things Naya needs.

She finds herself wantin
g to kiss her; she finds her other hand clutching at the sheets as she
desperately tries not to wrap Naya up in her arms and make love to her; she finds her teeth biting
at the pillows to stop herself from moaning but she’s still sure that Naya already kno
ws that’s
what she wants, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

She slowly begins to do things and Heather knows that she’s trying to make her give in. Her
fingers stroke up and down Heather’s back, low and high and then tease at the sides of her
ts. She moans her name in her ear, begs things from her that guide Heather’s movements,
asking her to go faster or slower or deeper. She presses her mouth against Heather’s shoulder and
clutches her closer, pleading her not to stop.

It goes on for weeks a
nd her world shrinks to nothing other than going to work and waiting for
the moments when Naya taps at her knee and tells her that her back hurts. People look at her
strangely and she’s sure the fact that they’ve put Naya’s role in the show on hiatus until