Disclaimer: I do not own Bomb Girls. This is merely just a flight of fancy.
Summary: "Betty McRae wanted to forget". After Kate's return, Betty tries to move her relationship along with Ivan. If only she could forget.
Spoilers: Season 2, Episode 1.
Linger On, Dear-
- A Story
Betty McRae wanted to forget
She wanted to forget the ache in her feet. The sleepless nights. The stares. Whispers and talk. The paranoia. That red hair, those green eyes. A push off a fire escape.
Or was it a fall?
It mattered not. She wanted to forget.
All of it.
"You sure I should come up?"
Betty looked under her cap to Ivan, his hands deep in his pockets as he stared at her.
No, she wanted to say, I'm not sure.
Instead, she dug into her purse for a smoke and a light.
"I asked, didn't I?" She bit before she could even stop herself.
But Ivan smiled. He always smiled.
Poor soul.
Maybe Gladys was right. Maybe she was leading him on.
No.
Maybe.
Was.
Poor soul.
Though, Betty couldn't feel altogether bad, she reasoned with herself. She genuinely enjoyed Ivan's company. His talk was never boring and he laughed at her jokes. He didn't seem to mind her brazen talk either.
She might actually like him. Love him. If she wasn't such a…deviant freak.
Betty felt her face flush.
But she did. She did like him.
She had to.
Two drags off the smoke and she flicked it away.
What a waste.
"You coming or what?"
And Betty entered the building, not caring if Ivan followed. He did and the bitter shiver of disappoint traveled down her spine.
The halls were busy as they worked their way to her room. Eyes followed them wherever they went.
Whispers too. Gossip.
At least this kind wouldn't throw her behind bars.
Far too soon they stood before her door and Betty paused.
Briefly.
Just long enough to survey the curtain covered open doorway down the hall. Quiet music flittered from the room, though the only sound that played was that of the recording. Much singing hadn't been heard from the room since it was filled.
Not much talking, either.
But that was to be expected.
The curtain swayed and Betty held her breath. Was it from the flutter of radiator heat or had someone pushed it away slightly to peer out?
She didn't much trust her eyes anymore.
Ivan placed her hand on her back. Betty jumped and quickly pulled him into the room.
She swore the click of the door as it closed was far louder than normal.
"I had a great time tonight."
Betty snorted. "Aren't you supposed to say that when you leave?"
"Though that's what I was doing."
Betty shrugged. She did that a lot lately. "I didn't drink tonight," she said before she lost the nerve. And she hadn't.
No matter how much her hand had ached for the glass. Or the bottle.
Ivan's brow rose as he took a step closer. "I didn't either."
Betty gave a single curt nod as his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.
Ivan kissed her. They hadn't yet. She hadn't really tried. And she would have liked to have gotten the whole thing over with without doing so, if she had her way.
But it must be done. She knew.
His lips. They weren't as rough as she thought. Softer. A little timid, but sure. But still…they didn't feel right. Not like-Bright eyes flashed before her.
Betty grabbed Ivan's shoulders and pulled him closer. Holding on for dear life.
Ivan pulled back slightly, his eyes caring. "You okay?"
Betty nodded and nodded. A little too quickly for her liking.
Beggars can't be choosers.
And then Ivan kissed her again.
Harder. Faster. Insistent.
And she had to back away from the surprise of the force.
A wrong choice.
Betty's legs hit her bed and she fell backward, her unrelenting clutch pulling Ivan with her.
She let out an "oof" into the kiss. Ivan moaned.
It wasn't too bad, she thought. And then she felt it.
Desire. Hot and heavy. Pressing between her legs.
Not her own.
Ivan's mouth moved to her neck.
"Ivan."
Had she spoken? She wasn't sure. Her mouth moved. But even Betty couldn't tell if sound came out.
His hand moved down her side leaving nothing where there should have been gooseflesh.
It was nice.
A hand, bare and cold on her leg.
"Ivan I-."
His lips moved lower.
His hand grazed her breast.
His other hand, so cold, moved up her leg.
And it was rough. And grabbing. Not at all how she imagined.
Not at all like it should. His hands so much larger than she would have thought. Still moving higher.
Higher.
"Ivan – I – uh."
He kissed her again, before his mouth returned to his neck. Betty moved her mouth. Surely she was speaking. But she mustn't have. For Ivan would have said something. He wasn't a cad, she knew.
His hand reached her hip. Her stomach dropped.
Because no matter how much she wanted to, Betty couldn't forget.
"Ivan, stop," Her mouth moved. She whispered. Whimpered. She could barely hear herself. And maybe that was for the better.
Green, tear-stained orbs filled her vision. So inviting. So beautiful. So-.
Ivan's hand began to push away her undergarments.
Betty's knee jerked and her arms pushed. And a "Stop!" so much louder than she had intended echoed through the room.
Ivan sprang back, stumbling backwards. He fell off the bed as Betty's door was thrown open and Kate ran in.
The air froze and Betty watched as Kate surveyed the scene. From Ivan on the floor, his erection clear as day, to herself on the bed, skirt pooled at her waist.
When had that happened?
Betty quickly pulled her skirt down and Kate turned back to Ivan, who quickly stood, awkwardly trying to hide what he couldn't.
Betty looked away.
"Betty I-I didn't mean. If I pushed too much I'm -."
Betty nodded.
"I should go."
Kate nodded.
And Ivan was gone.
Betty closed her eyes. Willing her racing heart to slow down. Blindly she reached for her smokes, her hands shaking. And it wasn't until Kate had placed the pack in her hand that she realized the other woman hadn't left.
Betty opened her eyes.
Kate stared down at her, holding the lighter for Betty to use. She quickly did, the smoke calming her the instant it filled her lungs.
Kate clicked the lighter out.
"So that was him," Kate spoke after a moment, her gaze never wavering from Betty.
"Huh?"
If Kate Andrews were the eye-rolling type she would have done so then. Hell, Betty would have too. If her hands would just stop shaking.
"You're," Kate paused. Seeming to look for the right word. "Boyfriend."
Boyfriend.
Betty quickly stubbed out the smoke.
What a waste.
She shrugged. "Yeah."
"I didn't think you were serious."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Betty snapped, feeling the pit in her stomach grow. Just like it seemed to, day in and day out.
Kate blushed, "Just that-I thought—it was just what you told my-."
The rest of the sentence hung in the air and Betty quickly grabbed another cigarette. Kate lit it again.
"I just didn't think—I'm surprised is all."
Betty shrugged. "Not quite sure what you mean."
But she did. And she knew it. And Kate knew it.
Slowly, Kate sat beside her. Betty moved away when she felt their legs brush together.
"Did he hurt you?" Kate asked, looking at her, her eyes truly and genuinely worried that Betty forgot how to breathe for a moment.
"Didn't do anything I didn't want," Betty replied gruffly, though she had to look away. She guffawed and sighed out a laugh. "Guess I just wasn't ready."
It was meant to be a joke. Honest. But it didn't sound like it. And Betty hated herself for how pathetic she sounded.
They sat. Quietly for a moment. Kate looking at her and Betty looking anywhere else. The silence seemed to stretch on, for how long Betty wasn't really sure but she jumped when Kate suddenly grabbed her hand and held it between her own.
It was the first time they had touched since-.
Betty felt flutters run up her arm and through her whole body.
"Does he make you happy?"
"It's not about being happy," Betty said before she could stop herself.
Kate's stare turned from concern to grief and maybe even-. No. No.
Betty didn't rust her eyes anymore.
Kate's thumb stroked slow circles on Betty's palm.
Perhaps she shouldn't trust her sense of touch either.
"You know, I'm kind of beat. Think I'm gonna head to bed," Betty finally said, unable to take whatever it all was too much longer.
Kate nodded and stood, her hand holding Betty's until their fingers flitted across each other's and the contact was lost.
"Goodnight Betty."
"Night Kate."
And then she was gone. And Betty couldn't help it.
She cried. Every last, damn drop of water she had in her body. She cried.
Betty wanted to forget. But, she knew, she wouldn't be able to.
Not ever.
Fin