"What time is this senior awards thing I'm supposed to be at?" Harry sat on the side of the bed finger combing his long, bedraggled hair. He'd been adorning her bed for months now, and his hair was only getting longer, and Jo was sure other people noticed and fawned over it too, but she wouldn't know.

Since that weekend when they had simmered in tension-stew with Ethan, they had hunkered down, much attention had been paid to their foxhole, but not the no mamma land beyond it. Harry rarely eve came to her office anymore. Jo still advised him, well, painted with him, cheerleaded for him and championed him, but it was done in his studio or hers.

But tonight it would be done publicly. Well, she had laid the groundwork for his praise, but she would not be publicly adoring him. At least she hoped not. The softness of her eyes would have to be hidden behind winged eyeliner and academic pride.

"You mean the show where your art is being highlighted and shown to the entire university faculty before it goes on to be a feature in the library for the whole community to enjoy?" Jo stepped up to where he sat with nerves radiating off of him. She felt so proud and a bit confused. "You seem really unsure, baby? This is an honor. There were only a few students picked. I didn't know you were prone to fits of nerves."

"I just really don't like being the center of attention." He blew out a breath and she liked the way it felt on her nipples. She wondered if he was also concerned about being out and near each other like she was.

Distraction, she wanted them both to go into tonight in high spirits and focused on his greatness and potential.

Jo pulled Harry's chin up, "You know you cause a stir right? That you draw eyes in every room you enter? You're a candle, lover. You light up the dark. Own that." She was caressing his chin and remembering his stubble over her shoulder while she brushed her teeth lots of nights before bed. It was just thick enough to tickle, but not so much it hurt.

"I mean, I kinda notice that, but it's easy enough to blend in or ignore it, it's different when a room of people in posh dress stare at me and I have to talk. I hope I don't have to go first," he groaned and put his head against her chest.

"I think you're last." She knew he was, she had seen the program and he was winning the Senior Achievement Award. She had put him up for it, against Profesor McStruppins advisee. She hadn't had to push very hard. He won easily, but she couldn't tell him that. She also wanted to see his face when he won, surprise and pleasure.

Jo was feeling a little bit of her own nerves. She felt like a proud wife going into this and she was trying to figure out how to keep the love out of her eyes so that she just looked like a proud mentor. They had done a fairly good job of staying away from each other at school since Professor McStruppin's clear and curious interest. There had been a few slips where Harry had stopped by her office, or they had seen each other in the cafe and had had to make small talk, but they'd done a good job of keeping their cards to their vests. This would be the first time they were in the same place as Victoria and her other colleagues since their relationship status had changed. That was not to say that there had been an official conversation where they had decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Harry, however, spent most of his nights in Jo's bed and she frequented his red studio, when he was looking for inspiration or had found some, or when her bones were alight and she needed to be gilded to cool down.

Their relationship was private, close to the skin, underneath clothes. Like Harry's new tattoo. The little heart cracked in two, ready to fuse with the half he had given her. Private, special, and lovely. The etching had meaning to her and him and them. His heart resided within her and they brought a new day to each other every morning they got to wake up together. She loved it, though she teased him about it. Though Jo wanted to be beneath his skin, being on it, forever would do.

Harry downplayed it the night he revealed it to her. Explaining that he didn't have a lot of money and was short on time to paint for her. So he'd tried to think of a way he could show her his heart, give her his. Inspiration had struck and though he belittled it, it was perfect. She'd have known it was his version of her name, forever, even if he hadn't explained. But she loved the explanation, the sentiment. Though she'd never return it in kind. Harry never said her getting a tattoo was something he'd appreciate, but he hinted so heavily and mentioned the artist was really cool, and a friend at this point and she'd like him too. He even slipped in that he was experimenting with metallic inks.

Jo had laughed, she had no intention of applying anything to her skin for always, it was unnecessary anyways. He was deep beneath her epidermis and written on her heart. His tattoos, however, might be a way to work off some of both of their nerves, or provide a distraction before they had to go pretend they were much less than they were.

"I think you need to relax, lover." Jo coasted her hands over his shoulders, starting at the notch on his lean collarbones and following the heart shape of his pecs to a point at the antennae of his winged beast. She placed her hands one on top of the other over his heart.

"Yeah, I think it would help if I could hold your hand or summat, know I can't but think your presence would calm me down. Instead, knowing you'll be across the room but not with me," he shrugged, "makes me itch." He looked up then and pouted in wait.

Jo granted his request and pressed her lips to his. Against his mouth she said, "What if you could have me on your skin, would it help?"

Jo had noticed, he loved when she was open with her interest, avid gaze, begging voice. Perhaps because it took her so long to go all in with him. When she surrendered to her desires and was wanton about them he responded like a coal miner after a long day, walking into the light.

"How would I do that?" He smiled coyly and some of his tension peeled away.

Jo traced the bug's anatomy. "Well, maybe I can talk about the other things you wear on your skin, and leave my impressions and breath on them?"

He raised a brow, "I'm not sure what you mean, you'd need to show me."

"Ahhh," she tapped her chin then his, "I can do that!"

Jo pushed Harry back onto the bed and straddled him. And just to up the ante, to start the climb slow, she started at the cross on his hand. "Why did you put this here?"

Harry started to answer, and she shushed him with a kiss. "Remember, my impressions first, we can do this again, later, and you can tell me how right or wrong I was, yeah?"

"I think you have a cross on your hand, so that when you raise it to the canvas you remember to invite the divine to your painting. And the anchor, that's so you always remember to be where you are. The rose, for beauty and detail. The heart because it's where your strength comes from. The silly ones up here, I think are larks." She raised his arm up and found the only one with color. "Except your little skeleton man, with his red, the only one with color. He's so you remember how short life is and to follow your passion, your blood."

Her fingers found the wings of his left and right sparrow and she traced the wing down to the body of his bird and kissed each beak, licking the lines that defined the birds ribs. "These, I think are to remind you to come home, and I wonder how you will define that as you go through life. If this village will always be the place you revolve around, or if your world will get so wide that home will be greater Manchester, or England even." She hoped his world would be wide while wishing she would be home alone too.

She lingered over his broken heart, traced it, and used his finger to trace its shape on her own skin. Kissed it and blinked up at him in supplication before moving on. They didn't need to talk about that one. She'd cry.

"More wings," she licked the leaf like veins of his butterfly. "You want to fly? Or feel like you are." She breathed over her wet trails. "Is it a moth, or butterfly?" She lay an ear to his solar plexus and looked him in the eye. "If it is a moth, I think it is about transformation. If a butterfly, it's about beauty from within, I reckon."

She knew the birdcage was sensitive, so she sucked rather than tickling licks and inhaled his morning pit for good measure. "A bird in a cage has hope to use its wings. When did you want to fly away, Harry? Did you get to?"

He nodded at her breathlessly and bit his lip when she reached his ferns.

"Did you know this fern has three more leaves than the other." She licked each spine. "Why? Did the artist get tired?" She blinked up at him. "I'm not tired." Jo continued to trace the shapes with her tongue, until she followed his ilium to his bush, where she nuzzled and then licked up the side of his straining cock, her teasing and art critiques over.

Because she'd been playing with his body art for a long while now, they're both good and distracted. Jo felt confident he had forgotten all about his speech for the moment. That was right where she wanted him, there and in her mouth. While fellating the hell out of him and stroking him off, she noticed the tiger, which she had already teased him about, ages ago on their first golden night, but she only had one mouth. There were other body parts that needed tending. As such, Jo sat her sopping vulva there, on his cat, and rubbed until she'd investigated all the veins in the butterfly and his cock with her mouth. When she switched to his stomach he groaned and thrashed, begged a little. The suspense was killing them both, little deaths on the horizon with their scythes raised and ready.

Harry was dripping off the back of the peeking mushroom at his tip after her flights of butterfly fancy, so Jo hooked her mouth over one side to rub her lips over the tip of one side of his glans, then the other, before she finally swirled her tongue around and slid down as far as she could. Jo's gotten so much better at that. Was totally lukewarm about cock sucking until Harry, like she was about most things, but she loves the idea of containing his multitude. So she tries.

And tries.
And tries.
And tries.
Until he coats her throat.

After that, they were both rushing to get ready for the day, classes and children and then for their night out. It was hours later, but still Jo found her glowing skin didn't need much more than mascara and a red lip, to contrast her brilliant blue dress. It was the one Harry liked best when she sent him pictures from her shopping trip. Well, not as much as he liked her in the altogether posed before the full length.

Harry arrived at the University club after her, having picked up his mother. That was another source of nerves for Jo. Harry had brought up coming out to her again after a long period of silence about such things, and Jo had asked for time, "Not until summer love, then we can at least pretend we waited until it was proper." He had been working on the painting of her pussy at the time. It was such an incongruent moment, they had both burst out laughing. Harry had easily agreed, after things with Ethan, they had both just tried to rest and grow where they were.

Jo liked to think she would know her son was in love with someone if they were all in the same room. She had known before Ethan was even in her presence, and without his paramour. Anne knew something, Harry had said she had hinted as much.

But nothing about it being her. And the three of them had little occasion to be around each other. They had never hit it off, her and Anne, thankfully, or Jo would be betraying yet another loved one because of their pull.

Anne must have known something. She at least knew Harry was smiley. Jo hoped she was not exceptionally perceptive, or was distracted by Harry's triumph tonight. She doubted her and Harry were good enough to play it off. Though she was wishing they had more practice at the moment than the tense hours they spent with Ethan in her house. He at least hadn't mentioned anything remissed, he'd gone back to his chirpy infrequent calls, but being distracted by his paramour.

Jo wanted to push a meeting there, but did not want the gander to call out the goose.

She was avoiding that, as long as she could.

This evening was happening, whether they were ready or not. She was regretting not talking about it, not so much her distraction techniques, but she wasn't sure them having a plan would help at all. She had hustled through getting ready, Harry letting her go in the shower first and only needing a look to stay out of her little cubicle 'til she was done.

He made the necessary noises about her being stunning and how he couldn't wait to take that dress off her.

He'd even given her the "Wow!" that had been so integral to her reclaiming her self-conception after her divorce and second ride on the single mommy merry-go-round. That seemed like a lifetime ago, standing in his arms, and yesterday at the same time. She was straddling some line where time was irrelevant.

Jo kissed her lipstick off in thanks.

"What's that for, baby?" He'd had red smears on his face and looked debauched and she'd felt like Judith, like he'd called her months ago. But this time she was calling herself proud and well fucked.

"For, well, just for being so wonderful. If I don't tell you enough, I'm not sorry for falling for you, no matter the land mine we occasionally have to skip around. I'll never be sorry, being with you, well." She looked between them, "I'm a lucky woman."

"That feeling is, babe, I know what you risk and I'm," he looked heavenward, "mutual, Jo." And he held her hands and she wanted to smear more lipstick on him rather than re-apply hers.

She glanced at the clock then and freaked. Her face drew a snort from him and she narrowed her eyes at him, before he blew her a kiss on her way out the door. The lipstick was going to have to go on in the car, or else it was just gonna come off again.

Jo had gone well before Harry. She helped set up the podium and talked to the department head about Harry's piece so his notes were complete.  She was sipping a glass of wine when she felt him come in. Her body warmed and she felt a little taller with his eyes on her back. "Don't look." She murmured to herself and heard,

"What's that, darling?" At her opposite ear. She knew the voice, but was confused by its proximity.

Jo jerked her head up and away from the hot breath and found her ex-husband in her bubble. "Hiya, Colin. How was Zoe's gymnastics this week?" They had agreed to share weekly driving duties for that and Jo was pleasantly surprised he liked watching their daughter at lessons. Maybe because she excelled, whatever that looked like at her age. Small victories counted.

"She listens so well, is determined at lessons. She looked so good on the mats! Not as well as you are looking, though. What are you doing with yourself on your nights off? You joined a gym?" He eyed her up and Jo could feel Harry watching them, though she hadn't gotten his 20 in the room yet.

"Um, no, I haven't joined a gym. I guess I've been painting more." And she had been the subject of a few as well, her skin had played canvas a time or two additionally. Harry was her own personal jungle gym most nights of the week. He was definitely her cardio.

"Well, you look like a million dollars, so you must be spending your time wisely." And he grinned at his humor and looked for her approval. She had loved his silly oblique literary humor, once. Now she liked Harry's cheek better than anything she had ever heard. Also, even Colin's compliments to others were him patting himself on the back.

She allowed herself to look in Harry's direction, she was uncomfortable and wanted to find her anchor. Colin was standing very close to her. The way he had when they began dating, but had stopped when her belly popped. Her eyes scanned around the room.

She saw his mother's hair and caught the scene they made. His mother had always been a very pretty lady, and she still was. Perhaps Ethan and Harry had once bonded over that, having pretty mums. Though that would be very awkward indeed now. Anne caught Harry's free hand and his other one was fluffing his hair up and then back, he was agitated. Jo caught his eye and his brow immediately went up in question. The silent 'are you okay' was met with a tiny nod from her. He frowned just a little and she knew he knew she was uncomfortable. His ability to feel her out would unnerve her if it didn't thrill her so often.

"Who's that with Ethan's friend? She's a looker but old enough to be his mother!" Colin chuckled and Jo bit off the scoff she wanted to make like eating a gristly steak. "He's a good looking lad he could date a nice girl his age. Or boy I suppose, that hair, clothes, probably gay."

"It is his mother, idiot." Jo cut out. "And you can't tell someone's sexuality from their dress. Or at least you shouldn't. He's an honoree tonight, the highest."

"Ahhh, you proud of your little protege?" He condescended and Jo looked at him and wanted to slap him. He liked to imply he was the real academic and she was, well since she couldn't do, she taught. Jo hadn't recognized it when they were together. But it was apparent without lovelights in her eyes. Colin's had only been fog lamps at best, she was definitely seeing with Harry's high beams now. It made Colin contract like a pupil in a quickly lit room in her estimation. What was she doing here, hanging out in the darkness, she may as well follow her light.

"Very. In fact, I'm gonna go welcome them, if you'll excuse me."

Jo heard him mention a drink later, it hovered in the ether behind her and was as thin to her as her intentions to speak to him again at all tonight. She had little use for him, as he was always pretty useless for her and only lately was much use to Zoe.

She stopped along her track to speak with several colleagues, and to congratulate Ewan, Victoria's mentee, the other award winner tonight. He was wandering a little lost and Jo wondered where Victoria was. Jo supposed it was odd that he seemed to need to be babysat while Harry was holding court at this point.

No, it was par for the course, Harry was always less sure of himself than he deserved. He could have the world, it was waiting at his feet. He just had to be introduced to it. She hoped after tonight, and with a few of the other steps she had taken for him, he'd stride confidently. A giant among the Lilliputians.

Ewan was a really promising lad, but he seemed determinedly younger than Harry. She felt the need to shepherd him through the evening, but he wasn't her nominee, her winner. Where was Victoria?

"How you doing Ewan? You alright?" Jo put her hand on his shoulder and she felt the muscle tense and saw his  jaw jerk an inch.

"Yeah, Yeah, alright!" His voice climbed an octave. "Just, nervous, and, like, tense. Victoria says I should feel proud, like of whatever happens, and I deserved even more, I dunno, I think she was trying to get me excited but she just made me really nervous." He shuffled his feet. "Honestly, I'm just trying not to go get another drink. I think I'd handle this better piss drunk."

"Ewan, you deserve every bit of the attention, but it's ok to be nervous, and don't get too drunk, not yet, alright?" she glanced at the clock above Harry's head, "Give it another hour." Her eyes dropped to where Harry was looking at her. Jade eyes making her feel lucky. She pursed her lips without thinking, it's not a kiss, but it's a muppet mouth, he should recognize it.

Harry grinned then worked his jaw side to side in response and his bone sliced the air and flayed her reserve. She wanted to bite her lip, or pierce the air with a laugh. Instead she smiled and forced her attention back to Ewan. "Ok!" She squeezed his shoulder and caught another blush on him.

"I wish you were my mentor. Sure if I won your smiles I'd have his confidence." Ewan rushed out while gesturing at Harry and Jo was confused again. He seemed a little, smitten with her. Envious of Harry even. Which, there was reason to be jealous. She just hoped she wasn't one. Jo felt as though she had wandered into another landmine. Ewan being fond of her would only piss off Victoria, if he had a crush that was worse.

What was going on? Was there a rumor her nipples were beer-flavored or something? First Colin, and his open assery, now Ewan and his barely concealed admiration. She needed to excuse herself again. She needed to greet Harry, at least that plan she expected to be treacherous. Devil you know and all.

"You don't need Harry's confidence, you need your own. And you have every reason to have it." She smiled at him and liked that his shoulders squared a little. "Now, you'll have to excuse me. I need to greet my mentee. Good luck tonight."

"Yeah, and thanks professor!" He called as she waved and strode away. Her footfalls weren't exactly careful, but she'd try to follow Harry's lead with his mom, put her heeled feet into his imprints.

Harry tracked her across the room and his face warmed like a bun growing in the oven when he caught her trajectory. He quickly schooled it into form though and Jo realized his mom had turned her eyes to him.  Jo put on a kind smile, caution at the edges as she approached.

"Professor!" Harry said warmly and she ignored most of the connotations that word had taken on for them.

"Harry, you clean up smartly!" She took his cheek kiss and was wont to linger, but pulled back quick and smiled at his mother.

Anne's brow was just a touch high, but Jo vowed she'd give it no reason to climb.

"Hi Anne, it's been entirely too long!" She leaned in and they shared quick cheek kisses.

"Yeah, I never even see you at the bakery anymore. You off sweets?"

"I wish, no, just running to the city often, or my daughter around. Swim in the summer and gymnastics now!" She sighed dramatically. "It was easier when I was younger."

"Oh, yes, Harry had mentioned you had another baby. You got married too, yes?" There was no darkness to her expression and Jo knew it was a reasonable question, but before she could even get anything out Harry interjected.

"Mum!" He admonished. Anne's brow shot up and she gave Harry a circumspect look.

"What? It's a reasonable question!" She tossed her head.

"It is, Harry, it's fine." Jo kept her hand off his shoulder where it was pulled to go. That would not help. She wanted to start explaining away his reaction. We're close, he was around when my marriage imploded, Ethan and all, etc...  but she decided Harry had already stepped on a landmine and they needed to freeze until they could get some safe pressure on the trigger.

"My husband, ex-husband, is actually here, he's a professor too. We rushed into things, he was good on paper, ya know?" She shrugged like it hurt less than it did.Left it open to Anne, who had two ex-husbands of her own to sympathize if she could. It hurt less now, she was happy it ended, because she may have missed out on this, on Harry. She chanced a look at him, and he looked so soft for her, she refocused her attention on Anne to keep her eyes off the evidence. 

Anne's eyes were full of compassion too, and Jo was thinking it was going better than it ought to. "Anyway, enough of sad things! How proud are you of this one?" She cocked her head at Harry and kept her eyes away from his dynamite.

"Oh, I've always been proud of him! But especially of how he commits, I remember when he first came home raving about painting and how confused I felt, until I saw him at it, after I'd given in and bought all the supplies on that list you wrote. Remember that?" Anne laughed and Jo did remember.

It was after Harry had finally asked for a brush and he'd shown so much raw talent she had immediately written a list of supplies. "I couldn't help it, I could see the diamond that needed polishing there."

"You had a good eye. I felt bad I'd never seen it. Must take an artist to see another." Anne smiled and Jo felt full to bursting. She was good, this lady. Maybe it would be ok?

"Maybe, I have no doubt he'd have found his feet and you'd have supported him whenever it happened. They're calling me now. Think we are starting awards." She felt Harry tense beside her, though there was no point of contact between them. She squeezed his shoulder and ignored the prickles that spread from the contact through his silk shirt and blazer. "It's gonna be great, you earned it!" Jo made sure to look him in the eye, but tried to keep it in lane.

"Thanks, truly, ba-Jo, Professor." He was stumbling and had nearly slipped, she gave him a closed lipped smile and didn't miss the look on Anne's face. She saw her gaze drop to where Harry brushed the back of her hand with his own.

What was he doing? They were gonna have words.

"No worries, buck up. Excuse me!"

Jo kept her distance after that, except the hug when he won. His face, god she could paint his face, the absolute joy there, and the humble pleasure at the praise. She couldn't help it.

"I love you Harry, I'm so proud, lover!" She whispered in his ear then because she couldn't help it and went back to her respectable face as quickly as she could.

It was also the only time he looked satisfied after their talk with Anne. Harry kept trying to catch her eye, and she avoided it, her dress should be camouflage in color for all the hiding she was doing from him. His mum, though, Jo saw it, the suspicion there, after Harry's slips. The alcohol had flowed as well as the evening wore on. Drinks had been sent his way on his senior achievement award win, and the endowment that came with it. But those would only make it more likely that he would be trying to sneak a touch. And she had had enough that she would welcome it. Maybe it would calm her down.

She had sent him one too, a drink to congratulate him, it was the first. Since Jo knew he was going to win, it came to him on a platter after he walked off the makeshift stage. She had looked at him then, a visual caress, since he was alone and Anne was behind her. She knew he could feel her, so she tried to feel all of her emotion, the tidal wave of love and admiration and desire he pulled out of her, like moon to wave.

Harry had seen it, known it. His eyes had glowed before his pupils dilated under her gaze. He started to make his way to her, and she would have been foolish enough to wait for him, intercept him, a backfielder going for the ball. Then she saw his mother come from the left and another person to congratulate him.

Jo came to her senses, well mostly she came to her higher order thinking skills, because Harry owned her senses and she relied on those almost entirely in his presence. Her sense of self-preservation needed to win tonight.

She let it lead, but that found her avoiding Harry, the only person she really liked being around in the room.

Her ex-husband had sent a drink her way, the one he had "taught" her to like. She was not a true fan of the Old Fashioned, she could suck them down, but red wine was more her flavor, and when one of those came by her, from Harry, she didn't look at him in gratitude, but she felt it and sent it out to him.

It was an hour on, and Jo had just excused herself from schmoozing with her boss to go to the ladies.

"There you are!" She heard the deepish trill of Colin's voice.

"Where did you think I was?" She asked and realized they were in a long hallway, and that they were alone and she was blocked in.

"Nowhere, I just wanted to find you. Been trying to get a conversation with you all night. But you seem to be the belle of the ball though it's not your night." He inclined his head like he was reminding her. "C'mon, I've ordered you a drink."

Jo wanted out of the hallway, so she followed and walked past him. She tried to quell the physical reaction when he put his hand on her lower back. It would be rude to jerk away, friendly exes and all.

Colin leaned into her ear at that and said, "Glad to feel I still affect you."

Jo bit her lip over the scoff and breathed over her discomfort. She found a clock on the wall. It was plenty late to leave. She could easily excuse herself. She'd have a few sips to maintain smooth ex-marital relations, set up co-parenting plans for the week and get the hell out of there.

Colin's hand had migrated to her hip once she found the table he lead her to. She wiggled and he once again misinterpreted her body language. He winked at her when she looked up and confusion compounded. Was he always this dense?

"Colin, that's a very familiar hold you have on me." She inched away from him.

"Well, Josephine," she hated her full name, "We are very familiar. I've seen you naked, though I imagine you look much better than the last time."

The last time, she had been getting out of the water, and her stomach had been round and her breasts heavy and she had felt like a fecund goddess until she saw his reaction. It was then she knew it was over for them, though the hospital no-show had further done it.

She couldn't imagine how Harry would have reacted to her like that. She imagined a camera so he could explore more closely but be able paint it later. He'd told her he'd loved her post-pregnancy when she was floppy and honest. She could only imagine how he'd have felt when she was full and fertile.

Harry.

She looked up then, and it gave Colin the chance to lean into her.

Harry's jaw could cut glass, it was cubist in shape. His eyes were glowing a crystalline green and the blood moving beneath his skin was clear in his flaring temples. His neck veins bulged. Fuck, he was hot angry.

"Jo, I wasn't kidding when I said you look like a million pounds. I'm hoping to see a little more of you tonight. Maybe I can even see my daughter in the early morning? Hmmm?" He was speaking in her ear and the extreme familiarity pissed her off, Harry too clearly.

"What? Since when do you care to see her at any time the court hasn't appointed?" Her own jaw had clenched and she saw Harry move. She glanced up in warning. Nearly threw her flared palm out.

She turned the gorgon stare on her idiot ex. "You can see your daughter any night and morning you'd like to have her sleep over. But not under my roof. Thankfully, you abused that privilege enough to teach me not to extend it, myself, ever again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to relieve MY baby sitter."

"Jo."

She cut him off, "And you're wrong, I'm worth more than a million pounds!" Jo lifted her chin, and her voice was louder than she expected. "I'm solid gold."

Her exit was swift, but the pride of her shoulder set didn't waver, not with the eyes or the pair of feet and whiff of cologne and turpentine that followed her.