Disclaimer: I don't own any of Luke Cage in any form.
Summary: Coffee time doesn't have to be a solitary moment.
Misty/Claire/Luke with a lot of Misty/Claire at the beginning.
Misty POV
It starts with coffee.
Misty finds herself on leave.
"Take a few days," the Inspector suggests when she notices Misty on edge during another interrogation. And Misty doesn't argue this time, just walks to her desk, grabs her purse and trudges right out the precinct. Her anger, her frustration is one wrong comment away from another Claire Temple incident. The department can't afford that. She can't afford that.
Not being able to nail Mariah Dillard for Cornel's death bites into her skin and leaves her wounds raw. Until Cottonmouth, Mariah and Diamondback, Misty had been firmly in control of her life and career, but without Scarfe having her back, she finds herself floating without an anchor and the helplessness this leaves her with makes her bitter.
So she walks until she gazes up and notices she's in front of Soledad's.
Coffee.
She almost smirks.
Luke Cage doesn't like coffee, and neither does she.
She doesn't look up when Claire slides into the booth across from her. She just cups the warm mug and closes her eyes.
They sit there like that for awhile- just quiet, letting the jangle of the doorbell and occasional hiss of the grill be their conversation.
"You heard from him?" She'd glanced at a few news articles on the Internet recently, but she knew they didn't tell the whole picture. She didn't need Mariah's example to know the press was biased when it came to Carl Lucas. She'd been there, both bending away from and leaning toward him.
"He's okay."
Then a soft hand glides over the one Misty has lain on the table.
"How are you?"
And Misty fights back tears. No one has asked her how she is doing. It was usually something Pop did. Or Luke Cage. Everyone else just expects her to be strong and able to handle everything. But Misty is struggling. Her career has been teetering on a tight rope and her temper has flared because of the traumatic situation with Diamondback. Seeing Mariah's smug face on her television set sinks down into her bones and she finds a tangle of emotions for Candace nestled there. Candace's death is on her and Misty is not doing fine.
"Not well." She finally glances up. And she's reminded why she finally came to like Claire Temple. There is concern, but no pity, no expectations in her eyes.
Claire nods. "You want something stronger than that?" She nods toward the now lukewarm coffee.
Misty doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
She follows Claire out of the restaurant.
Truth is that she is not surprised when they don't end up at a bar. She's found that, while Claire is adventurous in her role as a helper, she's not big into the social scene.
"Nice place," Misty comments.
Claire laughs.
Misty frowns. She wasn't commenting on the décor. The worn blue futon squat in the center living area and the dripping faucet are nothing to fawn over, but there's something comforting about the place.
Misty downs one then two of the strong drinks Claire serves from her makeshift bar before Misty realizes the comforting thing in this place is the woman in front of her.
"You gonna be okay?"
They sit on the sinking cushions and Misty rests her head back to look at the faded, discolored browned ceiling. The apartment above must have had a leak sometime ago.
"I think so." It's the closest Misty's come to telling the truth about her feelings since Luke left.
Fingers join hers again, but this time Misty intertwines them and rubs a thumb across the skin. She doesn't think twice when she feels the fabric shifting beneath her. A warm hand gently leads her chin to face Claire and then there's the soft touching of full lips. It's such a tender kiss that when Misty opens her mouth it's surprising, and it's her soft gasp that allows Claire's tongue entrance.
Claire's touch reaches behind Misty and grazes her neck. Misty isn't surprised that Claire is a healer. Just in this moment Misty is being comforted and delivered.
Claire breaks the kiss and Misty is dazed. Claire shifts her eyes quickly over Misty's and whispers, "Is this okay?"
Misty nods. It's more than okay. Misty leans into the hand still cupping her face and trails kisses along the palm before nuzzling Claire's neck.
Claire helps her unbutton her shirt and unhook her bra. Misty watches the static sprawl Claire's long hair to the sky when she assists Claire in lifting her t-shirt over her head.
Their clothing doesn't come off artfully, but it does come off with care. And then they are holding each other. Just holding each other and breathing and Claire is rubbing an arm across Misty's bare back and playing with the strands of hair that dip below Misty's shoulders. Misty leans into the crook of Claire's neck.
"Is this okay?" It's Misty's turn to ask. She's gotten to know Claire more since their first encounter, but there's still so much they don't know about each other.
"Yes, it's good."
Claire reaches around and glides her lean fingers across Misty's breast and gives a light squeeze.
And then their lips are back to exploring. Sweet nips with light brushes of teeth arouse Misty. Yes, this is good.
Claire's feather touch caresses Misty's arm before Claire stands.
"Come," she says and offers her hand to Misty.
Claire POV
Claire has liked Misty since she met her. She knew that the fire and passion for justice that Misty has would serve the community well, even if it were wrongly directed at her and Luke for a time. That kind of drive for righteousness was what kept the city from spiraling downward into itself.
Plus, she's seen Misty scoping a crime scene, her bright, brown eyes staring in the distance as she took in her surroundings. The uncanny way Misty could recreate what happened made Claire wonder if Misty didn't have her own superpowers. She'd never seen anything like that before.
She has, however, seen the self-destructive force that Misty now carries in the set of her shoulders. Misty is the kind of person that internalizes those feelings and lets them carry her over the abyss. The city had too many bad and confusing things to let the good people destroy themselves.
It's why Matt is down in Savannah, Georgia right now using his genius to make the case for Luke's release.
She leads Misty around the corner to her room. The bedroom is as sparse as the living room, with a set of blackout shades, a lamp, wooden dresser and small nightstand. Everything is a little cramped, but she's got a bigger place than she'd had in Hell's Kitchen, the perk of being connected to a crime fighting lawyer with a booming business who could afford to slip his associates a few extra dollars these days.
She cuts on the lamp and the glow illuminates Misty's skin. Claire can't help but run a hand across her shoulder blade. Misty is truly beautiful.
"You're still okay?" Claire reiterates.
Misty smirks then. "You're not my first woman, Claire, and you might not be my last."
"Good," Claire says and she's relieved because that means it might not be as awkward as she thought.
She steps between Misty's legs and leans down, sweeping Misty's hair from her face. Claire tongues her shoulder then sinks lower until she reaches an already pert nipple. Her teeth gently tug and she darts her tongue across it as Misty hisses her approval. Claire's hands smooth over her back and put pressure to show Misty she wishes for her to rest back on the bed. There is little hesitation and Claire finds herself tracing down Misty's belly, dipping into her belly button and leaving a barely wet trail of kisses until she reaches between Misty's thighs.
She's into long licks along the labia and tongue swirls across the clit and two then three lean fingers pressing inside Misty while Claire listens to the woman moan out her pleasure. Her fingers rock and curl as Misty groans and lifts her body into Claire's face. Then Misty's fingers are tangled in Claire's long hair and she's gritting out, "Shit."
Claire looks up to see Misty caressing her breast with a hand and Claire smiles and increases her pace. Misty's breath comes fast and then Misty comes hard, her entire body jolting upward. Hard.
Claire stays with her even after Misty yanks at the hair at the base of her neck.
"Stop!" Misty cries and Claire relaxes onto her heels.
Claire plops on the bed beside Misty and they both focus on the ceiling. There is no old water stains here.
"That was good."
Claire smirks again. But she can feel the smirk sliding off her face as Misty braces on her side and starts her fingers dancing down Claire's chest.
And so their routine begins. At first, they have coffee once a week then twice.
Soon, Misty has a toothbrush at Claire's place and Claire places an extra set of medical equipment funded by Fish at Misty's place.
Claire rubs a thumb across the rim of her cup. It's late and most other patrons are gone since there's threat of a winter storm hitting.
"He's coming home, you know."
"I heard," Misty replies, squeezing Claire's hand to give her comfort.
"I know you guys had a thing." Claire doesn't know when she got emotionally invested in Misty, but she can't lie to herself and say she hasn't. She also knows Misty knows. She's not quite sure where Misty stands with her. The woman is more closed than a sealed vault, but there are moments, glimpses, when Claire is sure that Misty isn't just biding her time.
"Shouldn't that be my line?" Misty raises a brow. "He was talking about coffee and shit the last time he was here. Had some corny line about Cuban blends. And that kiss."
Claire feels the heat rush to her face and she takes a sip of coffee before she replies. She didn't know Misty has heard and seen all that. "Nothing happened."
"Yeah, cause you two didn't get that far yet. You will."
"Do you want it to?" Claire fiddles with the red scarf around her neck. She flicks at a piece of the knit with her fingernail.
"You're a grown woman."
Claire sighs. "That's not what I asked."
Sometimes, Misty talks in riddles. Claire thinks it's part of the natural detective in her to make everything sound like a good cop/bad cop routine without even trying.
Misty looks at the cars lined up outside of Soledad's. Soon, the temperature will be too cold even for the trench coat and sweater combo she is sporting. She hopes to be in her apartment snuggled under the covers when it is.
"I understand that you have something to explore with Luke and I won't stop you."
Claire can't keep the frown from her face.
Luke POV
There is a block party on a chilly, early spring night Luke comes back to Harlem. He doesn't ask for it, but he can't admit but feel great that people like him enough to do all this. And it feels great not to be a wanted man. Finally, he has no worries about running from the law. He doesn't know what the deal is with Matt Murdock, but somehow the guy had gotten him off and Luke knows just how many questions to ask or not.
So he enjoys the music, the smooth jazz that floats out and the Bachata that flows next and the hip hop that pounds in between. He dances with gorgeous women, smiles at children and plays a couple of games of dominoes. He drinks a couple of beers, making sure to pour one out for Pops. "I'm truly free," he whispers and he imagines Pop with his huge grin smiling down on him.
Luke knows something has changed when he meets Claire at Soledad's and she's actually talking about coffee. Real coffee.
But what really gets him is how Misty and Claire hug, how their hands brush through the air near each other, how their heads lean and their eyes search and they speak without saying words. Their bodies gravitate toward each other in a way he's never seen before. And he knows.
He grew up religious, but he only needs to fight down the part of him that would condemn this for less than a second. Misty and Claire are two of the greatest women he's ever met. Of course they would find the spark the other needed.
"Glad you're finally back, Luke."
He guesses this is their version of a welcome home party and he's sipping hot chocolate instead of coffee because he actually really doesn't coffee at all. Seriously.
"Glad to be back, Misty."
They've had a rocky relationship, but he's equally as happy to see Misty as he is to see Claire. And he knows that he loves them both. It's a bold declaration and one he only tells himself. He's spent months fighting the system and with everything stripped bare, he can see clearly what his priorities are. He must fight for the city. He must keep Pop's memory alive. He must learn to listen to Fish more. And he must love whom he loves more.
"You still up for that coffee?" Claire whispers.
He's surprised she's bringing it up now, but not as surprised when both women's hands grip one of his. And he would think he was dreaming if Misty wasn't eyeing him in that judgmental way and Claire wasn't gazing at him in earnest.
A/N: One more chapter and it's partly written, thankfully.