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It was nearing 11:30 by the time Sarah and Ashe wound down for the evening, still warm and flush with affection when Ashe abruptly remembered her crossword daily and picked up her phone. Sarah only laughed, tucking herself comfortably under the arm Ashe offered to her and all but draping herself over Ashe’s front to doze.
The cool trace of fingertips over her bare back lulled Sarah easily into a light trance, threatening to slip fully into sleep when Ashe pressed a lazy kiss to the crown of her head, gently twirling a lock of red around her finger. Sarah smiled into her skin, sneaking a little kiss to the underside of Ashe’s jaw as she snuggled closer.
She cracked an eye open long enough to peek up at the screen when Ashe gave a pensive little hum. It didn’t take Sarah long to locate the issue, and she chuckled when she saw.
“‘Gridiron,’” she offered, letting her eyes slip closed again.
“Pardon?”
“Forty-nine down, the football clue. Word’s ‘gridiron,’ I think.”
Ashe rubbed Sarah’s shoulder as she typed it in. “Hm. That fits. Thank you, dear.”
“Mhm.” She lifted her chin without opening her eyes, lightly squeezing Ashe around the waist. Ashe only chuckled and gave her the kiss she was clearly after, soft and sweet. Sarah cuddled back into her spot after.
Ashe was typically reasonably quick with the crosswords, and tonight was no different. She nudged Sarah for only one more (“Darling, what kind of computers did they sell in the 1980s? Starts with C, ends with S, ten letters long?” “Uh... All I can think of from the 80s and starts with C is the Commodore 64, but that’s not—” “Ah, Commodores then, thank you.” “Oh, duh, obviously.”) and soon Sarah was very nearly asleep once again, content to nod off to the steady thrum of Ashe’s heart under her cheek.
Then Ashe paused in her crossword. For a long, long moment, it seemed. Sarah might’ve thought Ashe had finished it already, except that she hadn’t moved to put her phone back on the table. There was a light tapping as Ashe dragged the puzzle back and forth across her phone screen, pondering.
“Hmm.” The tiny frown in Ashe’s noise was nearly audible, equal parts irked and perplexed.
Sarah barely managed to rouse herself enough to guess, “Stuck?”
“Mm. Something like that.” Ashe idly ran her hand down Sarah’s side, drumming her fingers thoughtfully against her hip. “...Four letter word, ‘a title reserved for women.’ Last three letters U-N-T.”
There was a beat.
Then Sarah’s breath slipped out in a little pffft that dissolved rapidly into an entirely juvenile giggle fit that she tried very hard to muffle into Ashe’s collar.
Ashe pinched her waist, though the infectious laughter had her trembling with amusement against her. “Well, obviously that’s—oh, hush, behave—obviously that’s not the answer.” Then, with a wry little smile, she admitted, “That being said, having thought it, I am struggling to think of anything else it might actually be.”
Sarah only chuckled, settling back into Ashe’s arms, considering even despite the aftershocks of laughter that lightly rippled through her. “Maybe ‘aunt?’”
Ashe made a little noise of realization, panning back to the slot to peer at its place in the puzzle. “You know, I believe you may be exactly right, in fact.”
There was silence for few moments more as Ashe finished up her puzzle just quickly enough to maintain her daily streak, and reached over to return her phone to the bedside table. Then Sarah abruptly began snickering into Ashe’s skin again.
“...The concept of The Times putting ‘cunt’ in their daily crossword, though.”
“Oh, stop it.”