A/N:"God, no wonder he's falling for Andy." After Chloe's comment in Rookie Blue 4x04, Gail walks into a bar-the same bar where Sarah and Cosima hung out in Orphan Black 1x03. The timeline clings more to RB than OB. Note that it begins before Holly and Gail ever meet.
The blonde enters like a hurricane, the storm on her face rivaling the one outside. As she looks over the room, she stomps her boots on the mat, hanging her dripping overcoat by the door and combing her fingers through her wet hair. Without a change in expression, she strides straight for the bar.
Cosima sees all this in the mirror, watching as the blonde leans across the bar to place her order. Before the last word leaves her mouth her eyes flick up and immediately find Cosima's in the mirror. Her eyebrows twitch up and Cosima inclines her head slightly, and when the blonde is served she carries her drink over and slides onto the stool at Cosima's side.
"Looks like you need that," Cosima says, gesturing with her drink before raising it to her lips.
In response, the blonde lifts her drink and downs it in one, indicating for another before letting the glass fall heavy on the polished wood. Once the bartender nods, she turns to Cosima, leaning one arm on the bar and looking her over more appraisingly. "Could say that."
Cosima grins and sticks out her hand, saying, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Cosima."
Recoiling a bit and keeping her hands where they are, the blonde says, "Oh god, you aren't going to be cheerful, are you?"
Shrugging, Cosima drops her hand and her smile and turns back to face the bar. "Nah. Just friendly. I like people."
"You know, I really don't," the blonde says mildly. Despite her attitude, she doesn't stop looking at Cosima. "I'm Gail, by the way. Cosima is an interesting name."
Cosima half-smiles and nods down at her drink.
"You're very… interesting," Gail says, turning to the mirror to see Cosima's face straight-on. "You're beautiful.
A bigger smile takes her face and Cosima tilts her head at the mirror. "Thank you. So are you, though I bet you get that a lot."
Face darkening, Gail says, "Fat lot of good that did me," and knocks back the second drink the bartender has placed before her. She indicates again and Cosima adds her request for two glasses of water.
"Let me guess, a… guy? Girl?" There's a hopeful lilt to the latter option, though Cosima coughs awkwardly to hide it.
"Mmm," Gail says, and just that, staring down at her empty glass.
"Well." The bartender brings their drinks and Cosima picks up her half-full scotch to clink against Gail's fresh whiskey. "Here's to alcohol." She takes a sip and nudges one glass of water in Gail's direction. "And to preventing hangovers."
"Some occasions are worth the hangover," Gail says darkly. "Don't you think?"
"Sure," Cosima concedes, then directs her piercing gaze into the mirror at Gail. "Of course, there are other ways to deal with occasions like that."
"True," Gail says, and gestures behind her at the empty room without turning from the mirror. "But."
Cosima smirks and says, "It is a Tuesday. Although I… uh."
At that, Gail turns slowly back and cocks her head, says flatly, "What?"
Something lights in Cosima's eyes (a question!) and she straightens up, before launching into a rapid explanation punctuated by broad manual gestures. "I'm sure you've heard of the Kinsey scale, it seems to be pretty big with our generation. Naturally the concept has some flaws, but the idea that people all possess degrees of such-and-such sexuality has merit; of course, every characteristic comes in degrees—for example, one person may be, to use an arbitrary numbers scale, a ten out of ten in soccer, a seven out of ten in baseball, and a two out of ten in oil painting. Another person raised in exactly the same environment, or possibly even the same person raised in a different environment, could be a ten out of ten in singing, and a three out of ten in football. Everything about humans is in degrees—consider hair colour. Eye colour. Vocal range. It's really quite fascinating stuff."
When she comes up for air, she sees that Gail is leaning slightly away, looking as though she's readying to bolt or press her silent alarm. Cosima pauses and presses her fingertips to her forehead, then looks up and says, "What I'm saying, actually, is that I," she touches a palm to her chest, "fall somewhere in the murky middle," she swirls circles with her hands, "where gender is not so much a factor in my sexual attractions."
Looking thoroughly unimpressed, Gail says dryly, "You know you could have said that in, like, five words, right?"
Cosima grins a little and turns back to the bar, spinning a bit too far on her stool and a bit too far back. She picks up her glass and says, "I'm a talker, what can I say," before tipping the rest of her drink into her mouth and down her throat.
Gail watches this, looks from her empty glass to Cosima's and then back to Cosima's neck. She leans forward just slightly, not even almost invading personal space, and licks her bottom lip. "Do you live around here?"
"Now I wonder why you would ever ask that," Cosima says, lightly teasing, but Gail immediately turns and puts her hand in the air for the bartender. Cosima closes more of the distance between them, lays her hand on Gail's bare knee, and says, "Hey." She smiles slightly and tilts her head as Gail turns back with a challenge to the set of her jaw and the angle of her eyebrow. The expression makes Cosima's smile grow a titch, and she says, "My hotel is just around the corner."
Gail drums her fingers on the bar and narrows her eyes. "I'm not interested in a run-around."
"No run-around. You're beautiful, I have a hotel room, simple as that."
Face dropping back to neutral, Gail dips her chin and raises her shoulder: half a nod, half a shrug.
Cosima picks up her hand and slides the glass of water toward Gail again. "Drink this first."
A slightly incredulous look and Cosima's turn to shrug.
"I'm a big fan of conscious consent."
###
To Gail, it's just a thing. A thing she's doing to drown out Chloe's voice; No wonder he's falling for Andy. A thing to remind herself she is desirable, she's alive, she's a person of her own.
It isn't until Cosima's mouth is hot on her flesh, searing into her skin, that her mind delivers up This is cheating. Technically, officially, in every way you can possibly describe it, this is cheating.
So she brings Cosima's face up to hers and kisses her with her eyes open, glasses and lashes and porcelain skin shifting in and out of focus. She reaches for Cosima's waistband, backing toward the bed as she unbuttons, unzips, folds denim away and presses the back of her hand to Cosima's skin.
As they fall onto the bed, Gail's back bouncing off the mattress, Cosima pushes herself up on her arms and says, "Are you going to regret this?"
"Who cares?" Gail replies, and Cosima seems to accept it, assigning her mouth to more important things than talking. For her part, Gail assigns her mind to sensations, living directly in her body, in the outsides and the parts that are touching Cosima and the parts that are covered in clothing and shouldn't be.
These are things she can control. These are things she will control.