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Nightly Visitors	By : McGonagall Category: Individual Celebrities > Maggie Smith Views: 2219 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't know Maggie Smith, and I most certainly don't own her. :p This is therefore only entire fiction. I don't make anything from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Nightly Visitors
- 1
Deborah had never been a very light sleeper. It changed. It depended. Sometimes, she woke at the least of sounds or motions. Other times, you could do what you wanted without her waking. There was no real pattern in it, and so when asked, she never quite knew what to reply but she could sometimes be a light sleeper.
That night her sleep was rather un-deep, as she woke feeling the nearness of another. As she quietly opened her eyes, she indeed found the seemingly familiar shape of another woman lined against the darkness. The figure sat down on the edge of the bed, and Debs intuitively rose on her elbow, reaching for the other woman’s hand with hers as it laid in her lap with its mate, holding onto it and tenderly running her thumb over the aged yet soft skin. A hollow sob could be heard in the quietness, and Debs shuffled aside to allow the other woman more room, gently tugging on her fingers.
Of course, momentary hugs had happened, and they had sat cuddled up together on the couch, but never once had they shared the bed not even to actually sleep. Never had there been more than a kiss on the cheek. She thus was gladly surprised that Maggie laid down in obedience. She tenderly pushed the sheets aside to let the older woman settle under them more comfortably, tugging them over them both again once Maggie finally laid down in the bed beside her, facing her. They were only just not touching, and Deborah encountered difficulties not to give in to wanting to just reach over and pull her incrementally closer, and wrap her arm around the older woman and make her feel safe. Instead, Deborah listened intently to the older woman’s shallow yet irregular intake of air. There certainly must be a reason why Maggie had come to her in the middle of the night just like that.
Debs smiled into the darkness of the night as she looked at the woman beside her. She quietly leaned in to nuzzle her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” Deborah whispered, her fingertips quietly stroking over the same soft skin – as light as a feather so she barely even felt it. They fell away after just a moment of tenderness. She wanted to do more, but the moment nor the time was right; it was too soon.
Maggie’s head shook. “I’m old.”
Debs’ smile remained as her head shook in denial. “You’re still beautiful,” she said, “and you’re so strong.”
Maggie’s head shook this time. Her eyes fluttered in the darkness, and suddenly without warning she shuffled away and uneasily rolled over, so that her back faced the younger woman. Again, she wanted to hold her tightly against her and never let go, but… Debs could no longer fight her reason and reached to lay her warm hand on Maggie’s waist. When she didn’t feel the older woman stiffen or her breath catch or anything else that indicated she wasn’t comfortable with the situation, she shuffled somewhat closer, so that she was actually spooning the elder lady. Her hand did not move, though.
Maggie spoke, “I haven’t really done something like this for a while…”
Debs’ mind reeled. She knew that Maggie had fallen ill with breast cancer a few years prior, knew that she had continued to film for Harry Potter even though in the middle of chemo, recalled somewhere having read that she went to the hospital alone, refusing another there with her… and that she’d done a lot of crying. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like, but she knew if she had been there with Maggie then, she would have just gone with no matter what. She might have fought her best and threatened, but she would have gone with.
“Did no one ever hold you when you were… ill?” she asked, disbelievingly. Her eyes focused intently on Maggie, and she could see her shake her head in the pillow, then suddenly felt her shoulders shake underneath her hand. Deborah damned herself for her insatiable curiosity and voicing her quiet disbelief, shuffling slightly closer still and finally wrapping her arm around the older lady, pulling her against her own body.
Maggie began shaking harder at the contact, it seemed. Debs thus maneuvered her other arm slowly underneath the older woman’s head, the fingers of her right hand entwining with Maggie’s. She tenderly nuzzled the elder woman’s shoulder. Maggie did not seem very comfortable in the embrace, and if indeed she hadn’t even been hugged during her illness, connecting with what she herself had said earlier about not having done something like that in a while, it wasn’t so odd. She suspected maybe she might not actually have been with anyone since after her husband had died… and possibly even before that as well. She did not know just how many women over the age of sixty still made love.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, momentarily tightening her hold. “I just… I love you. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The sobs and tears seemed to only increase as she held the elder woman, and thus against all her urges and instinct, she slowly disentangled from Maggie as the latter began to wriggle away as well. “I won’t keep you where you don’t want to be,” Debs added, shuffling so far as possible against the wall. She tried not to give in and actually sob herself at the feeling of loss that consumed her. It broke her heart watching Maggie cry, knowing that she did not feel comfortable enough with the younger woman to share her tears.
And then the older woman reached back with one hand, searching for Debs’. Deborah quietly reached her hand forward so as to allow Maggie to slowly take it and squeeze it. “H-Hold me,” she begged, her voice so broken.
Debs did the only thing she could think of right then: she obliged, sliding on her back and carefully guiding Maggie to lie half atop half beside her. Deborah tenderly ran one hand across the older woman’s lower back in a warm soothing fashion, the other stroking the back of the hand that motionlessly lay on her left bosom, her nose buried in soft grey hair.
“You really love me for me,” she whispered.
Deborah nodded. “Yes,” she replied in a gentle tone. “Insofar as loving you for you goes. I don’t want you for the load of money you… most likely have or your fame, Maggie. I just want to make you happy.” Her tone was soft and honest as her warm hand drifted up and ran through the grey hair she didn’t really mind the elder woman having. She tenderly kissed it, guiding Maggie to lie entirely atop of her. Debs momentarily wondered if maybe she had gone too far too fast. However, Maggie already beat her to the punch.
“That’s slightly more comfortable,” she said, lying her head down on the younger woman’s full bosom, arms snaking to her shoulders, gently lying atop of them as she grew more comfortable in the embrace.
Her nightgown had bunched up a little to linger just above her behind. Debs’ one hand held the older woman steady atop of her, as the other carefully reached for her lower spine. Maggie’s breath caught slightly as soft fingertips touched her bare back, but she grew more comfortable as the younger woman began to gently massage. She buried her nose in the younger woman’s neck, occasionally releasing near-moans of delight and pain.
Debs quietly resettled under the elder woman, her hands coming to stillness, as her leg began to sleep in the awkward embrace. She slowly lifted the other, cursing inside herself as Maggie hissed softly, the younger woman’s thigh rather accidentally moving between hers and finding her most intimate of spots. Debs immediately lowered her leg on the mattress again.
She could feel her nipples tighten as Maggie expelled her breath right beside her ear, panting lightly. She must not think of her that way. Maggie most likely even had no idea what she did to her. Debs was not as stupid to believe Maggie did not know in what way she actually loved her, and she had always been surprised Maggie accepted it. They had not done anything intimate up until then. Deborah doubted whether Maggie even knew women could make love to each other.
“Make love to me…” It sounded, and Debs didn’t know if Maggie had really spoken the words or if she herself might have uttered them without really knowing.
Deborah quietly turned her head aside as Maggie momentarily lifted hers, and they looked in each other’s eyes. Debs tenderly kissed the patch of skin right beside Maggie’s mouth, resting her cheek against the older woman’s. She didn’t know what to say or what to do. She felt so embarrassed. Maggie was the one leaning down to kiss her mouth in return, and even though the gentleness of the kiss, a rush of anticipation and lust and love rushed through the younger woman, and she instinctively bucked up, her thigh thrusting in Maggie’s centre as the same motion caused Maggie’s knee to fall between hers. They both released gasped moans, their eyes locking together lustfully as Debs fell to the mattress again. Maggie’s head dropped in the crook of Debs’ neck. “Please…” she crooned.
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Nightly Visitors