Tara's night.
"Damn it Tara" I mutter as the cab pulls up to the non-descript building in Portland's warehouse district. It's another one of Tara's underground clubs. I can tell from the sounds of throbbing dance music escaping through the front door. How does she find these places? Why does she do this to me? "I promise!" She said. "A nice evening," she said. "Trust me," she said. With a sigh I enter the club. As these places go, this is one of the better ones. The music is too loud but not awful. "The wine better be damn good" I think as I scan the room.
I spot Tara immediately. She's hard to miss in a deep emerald dress, a wild contrast to her bright blue eyes and the flashing gold of her long hair. The dress is cut low in front and just a bit too tight in all of the right places. My stomach clenches as I take it all in. I'm not the only one seeing her and she knows it. The men stare and the women pretend not to. All eyes are on her but she's mine for the night. I won't share her with anyone. I smile to myself at that. What is it that Hardison likes to say? A line from one of his "Star -something" shows. It's lost to me for now in a swirl of thoughts and emotions. I pause at the door and wait to make my entrance. It seems like forever but it's really only a moment before Tara looks my way. Just for a second I see her lose her composure and I catch a glimpse of the lust in her eyes. In a flash it's gone as she regains her cool control and I wonder if I saw it all. She gives me a little wave and a smile and I find myself drifting through the crowd to be by her side. Resistance. Something about resistance.
Resistance is something that I seem to be lacking at this moment.
Tara gathers me into her arms with a friendly kiss and shoves a glass of red wine into my hand. "It's been too long" she whispers. "I've missed you". I murmur in agreement. Tara's been working in Europe, fleecing wealthy playboys while I've been lying low here in the Pacific Northwest. The casual feel of Portland suits me for now. I work when I feel like it or when the team insists that they can't live without me. Of course they can. I've taught them well but it's still nice to be needed. And loved. And then there's Tara. I love Tara but I'm not sure I could ever be "in love" with Tara. Not like I'm in love with Nate. Nate. What would Nate say to me at this moment? Nate would understand. We still live our own lives. A pair when it suits us, on our own when it doesn't. I know that Nate has his own interests and I don't ask. Besides, Nate is no fool. He's seen the look in Tara's eye when we are together. Yes Nate definitely knows.
Tara disappears from my life quickly and silently and I sometimes forget that what we are isn't just a wonderfully sexy day dream. This night feels like a dream. Tara always seems to know when I become desperate for her touch and pops back into my life. A week or a night. It doesn't matter. It only matters that she is here and I am here.
Tonight is one of those nights and is only the reason I am willing to tolerate the dance club. "Assimilation". Is that what we're doing? What does that mean anyway? Hardison will know. I must remember to ask him.
"Try the wine" Tara says as she pushes the glass toward my mouth. "Bloody hell Tara" I say and she laughs. It seems to be a game with her. How far can she push me before I let go with the curse? This one really wasn't much of a challenge but I know she loves to hear it and I oblige her. I follow it with a big gulp of my wine. It's not particularly good. Best drunk quickly and it let it do its intended job. With a wink Tara refills my glass and I drink again. "Futile" I think. "Resisting this woman is futile".
I gather my thoughts and try explain to her that this was supposed to be my night. My plans. My quiet date. She promised. "Trust me" she says and laughs again. Trust. It's so hard to trust. I offer it to my marks as casually as I offer my hand for a shake or my cheek for a kiss. I ask it of my team but I am the grifter. Trust is not something I can ever give fully. Trust is death or at least death of the con. Neither is acceptable. Tara asks me again to trust her and I do. God help me but I do.
"Dance with me Soph" she asks but I resist. I didn't come here to dance. I want to talk. I'm being selfish. I am unwilling to share her with the people on the dance floor. Besides dancing with Tara is dangerous. She looks hurt and I lean closer and tell her "later we will dance." "When it's quiet". "When it's just the two of us."
With a sigh she takes my hand and leads me to a booth, away from the speakers, where we can talk. She orders more alcohol. Martinis this time. She's going to wear me down. Break through my walls of resistance. She's determined to do this her way. "But it's my night" I try again to tell her. She replies with a gentile kiss, pulling away from me too quick. Leaving me speechless and wanting more. Bloody hell indeed.
We spend the evening drinking and chatting about cons and things we've stolen. Laughing about the places we've been and people we've met. To anyone's eyes we're just two girlfriends out for a night on the town. They can't see Tara's hand resting on my thigh or feel the sensation as it burns through my skin. It's becoming harder to stay focused. "Resistance is futile?" Is that it? "Damn it Hardison! Get out of my head". I don't want to think any more. Tara's closeness is driving me crazy. Does she know what she's doing to me? Of course she does. She's planned this. Not my night. It never really was.
"Dance with me Soph" she asks again and this time I acquiesce. She knows I can't resist her for too long
"Trust me" she says. She takes my hand and pulls me out to the dance floor. She tries to pull me close but I've had a tad too much to drink and I tumble into her. She deftly catches me and holds me tight to her body. "You need some air"
she says and I nod in agreement, not quite sure if it's the drink or her proximity that is more intoxicating.
She puts her arm around my shoulder and leads me toward the door, all the while her hot breath caresses my cheek. It does nothing to sober me up. The door opens and I feel the cool moist Portland air as it hits me hard in the face. I stumble again and again Tara catches me. Trust. I do trust Tara. She is always there to catch me.
Tara's hotel is several blocks away and we decide to walk, taking advantage of the damp air to clear some of the fuzz from my brain. I need to think. I need to get my wits back. We really do need to settle this date night thing. We walk arm in arm along the dark Portland street, our bodies close enough to touch. Almost. Again it's driving me crazy and my brain can't find the words. I fight the urge to wrap myself around her. My resistance is eroding and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it.
Somewhere along the way it starts to gently rain but neither of us seem to notice.
Inside the hotel, in the elevator, Tara stands close. Close enough to make my skin tingle but not quite close enough to attract attention. Or maybe it does and I'm just too far gone to tell. God does this elevator have to stop at every floor? Tara fumbles for the room key while I gently nudge her from behind. I can't wait for this nonsense. Not now. Not ever. The door opens and I push her through. She turns into me and pulls me in. "Patience my love" she growls "trust me." She begs as she gently wipes the raindrops from my face. "Dance with me Tara", I whisper in her ear. "Of course" she whispers back.
We stand together, holding each other tight for hours, or was it merely minutes? slowly swaying to a rhythm that only we can hear. Tara tries to pull away. "You're soaking wet" she says and reaches for the back of my dress. I let her. Somehow she manages to wriggle out of hers and both dresses slide to the floor at the same time. I stand there with her, breast to breast, staring into her endless blue eyes while her hands travel slowly up my bare back and then to my face. Resistance. I have none. I never have had with this woman. She kisses me. Not gently this time and I respond by arching my back, melding myself to her magnificent body, hanging on for dear life. Slowly Tara dances me to the over-sized bed and pushes me to sit on the edge. She reaches down to pull off my heels. I close my eyes as she moves her hands slowly back up my body. Gentle at first and then more insistent. There is no resistance as she pushes me back onto the bed and falls on top of me. This is her night after all and I will let her have her way with me.
"Bloody hell Tara" I squeak as millions of tiny explosions go off in my head. Tara responds only with a shudder and I follow her into oblivion.
Hours later I wake to find myself still entangled in Tara, her muscular legs wrapped around mine, my head on her shoulder. I smile as I think to myself, this is what that word means. I'm a part of her and she's a part of me. We may live our lives apart but never alone. I say, in a voice barely above a whisper, "I trust you Tara" but we both know it means "I love you". Tara stretches and smiles as she rolls back on top of me. "You have been assimilated" she breathes into my ear.