Jamie Moriarty never asked for details. She didn't want to get tangled up more than necessary.
Who and where were all she really needed and occasionally the extra details of how were thrown in the mix but it was more often than not left up to her.
She stood outside the bar. There was a faint smell of booze and piss coming from the entrance. She felt overdressed compared to the patrons coming in and out with old and tattered clothing. The weather beaten building was near falling apart had it not been for the posters covering walls, one covering up the next that seemed to form the only stable looking foundation it had. One flyer was significant, trying to prove it was better than all the rest by announcing their upcoming show for the night.
"Shit Goblins?" she mouthed, reading over the words to make sure she read it correctly.
You've got to be kidding me.
She glanced at her watch and then down each direction of the sidewalk, scanning the faces of passersby and patrons, studying each movement with precision. She stepped up to door and pushed in after a few people had gone before her, offered her identification and a few dollars for a ticket, and made her way to the bar.
Jamie made herself comfortable on a stool, back against the counter, and carefully studying the faces as they walked by. The place was starting to fill, the band was began their warm up, and she was uncertain she was in the right place. It was getting harder and harder to peer through the mangy crowd but more people meant a better chance of her face getting lost in the flock.
"Y'gonna order anything or just take up space all evening?"
She turned around to look at the blonde bartender with gauged ears and thick rimmed glasses.
"You're gonna hafta move if not."
"Black and tan, then," she ordered and the woman shoved off and soon returned with the drink.
The effort Sarah put into trying to get Rachel to do the things she wanted to do was just as frustrating (and even less successful) as pulling teeth with a pair of tweezers. "You never want to do the things I want," Sarah whined. How many times have they had this argument?
"Because the things you want to do are never fun," Rachel retorted. Her hand reached out and tugged at the leather jacket adorning Sarah's shoulders. "I thought you got rid of this."
"What? Never."
Rachel rolled her eyes and Sarah jerked away from her grasp. She gripped the flaps of the jacket and possessively wrapped it around her.
After seeing Rachel's face twisted into disgust, Sarah knew she couldn't make Rachel go—she just wanted a little interest from the woman she loved. She backed up a step or two, hid her defeat, and headed for the door.
"Sarah—"
"Y'already made me late, Rachel, I gotta go," she said as her hand landed on the handle.
"You can't take the car."
Without letting go of the door, she spun around and glared at her. "You're kidding."
Rachel shook her head, her expression turning blank as she stared back.
"Seriously?!"
She didn't get a reply. Instead, Rachel turned and walked off into another room. Sarah gaped before she whirled back around and slammed the door behind her.
The driver taken away from her for the evening left her with the only option of getting a taxi. She lingered on the sidewalk to hail a cab. It further delayed her arrival to the bar, located in an area that was nowhere near the same ballpark as the pristine neighborhood Rachel's apartment was. Another way to discourage her from going, she was sure.
She shoved a few bills in the driver's hands before hoisting herself out of the car. She could see the profile of heads through what little window space was left—oh, Rachel would hate that—and grumbled. She spent the last little while arguing with Rachel to get her to come that she was late. The band had started; she could hear the faint echo of words dance in the air and the bass vibrated deep within her chest.
Sarah paid for her ticket, stood up on her tiptoes to search for a path to the front, but lowered in defeat when she knew she wasn't getting through. She lingered for a moment near the entrance, listening to the beat of the song, the words drowned out by the singing crowd. She felt her spirit rise and her irritation dwindle and get lost in the atmosphere. Even if she couldn't get to the front, even if Rachel wasn't here with her, she could still enjoy what was left of the show with a drink.
The moment Jamie saw Sarah at the entrance she knew she didn't have to search anymore. She noticed the long dark hair that rested on her leather jacket, the shirt that hugged her torso, and the skintight pants that showed off her toned legs.
It was the face, however, that she recognized. It was the rest she appreciated.
She straightened up on the stool when she noticed she was headed in her direction, for what she assumed was one of the few empty spots left at the bar, but she couldn't stop the smile from forming.
"Bud Light?" Sarah ordered when the bartender came by.
She forced herself to look away and toward the band, pretending to watch them over the heads of the crowd.
"Why are you here?"
Jamie turned her head and was met with Sarah's scrutinizing glare.
"To listen to the Shit-Goblins," she replied, her voice even and proper.
"Bullshit," Sarah argued with a tilt of her head. "It's all over ya face that you're so bloody out of place here."
"All right," Jamie confessed, bringing the beer to her lips and taking a long swig. "You got me. I would say you wouldn't catch me dead in a place like this but here I am."
Sarah tipped the bottle of her beer skyward. The cool burn of alcohol soaked her throat and settled warmly in her stomach. "So what is it?"
"Knew I'd find an easy shag here."
"Did you now?"
Jamie nodded her head with a quiet mmhmm while her smile curved to one side and into a grin.
Sarah's eyes narrowed when the other woman answered. If she hadn't grown up in such dog-eared places, she would have been blind to her presence. While she wore her own version of dingy attire, everything seemed too clean.
They both looked up when the band suddenly announced they only had a few songs left. Sarah groaned, irritated with Rachel that she missed more than half the concert and then a little with this woman for distracting her while she was here. Jamie turned and looked at her, studying her carefully for any slight change in expression.
"What do you say?" Jamie asked once she finished her beer.
She watched Sarah's expression change from muffled anger to startled; the bite of her lip and raised brow and she looked like she lost who she should be angry at. She didn't get a response right away but she wasn't perturbed by the delay. Instead, she turned to look over the audience while Sarah took the moment to chug her beer and shove it across the bar. A few moments passed and Jamie didn't wait anymore. She slipped off the stool, spun Sarah around, and pulled her close. She saw the surprise light Sarah's face but she didn't leave it lonely and greeted her lips with her own. It was familiar somehow; how Sarah filled her arms like a loaded weapon, how her kiss tasted like gunpowder, and how she didn't know she would crave it this much. Her hunger increased and she wanted to pull the trigger.
Jamie broke the kiss but she didn't disengage their contact. She let her hand drop, stroking the leather of her arm, and found her hand. "Come," she murmured but didn't seek approval. She led her out of the bar and halfway down the block.
Sarah, amidst the rush, didn't object. She let Jamie take her by the hand and lead her and stopped in front of a building with tall, empty windows. Jamie pulled a phone from her pocket, push a few buttons and quickly put it away. She pushed her back against the window, consuming Sarah's mouth into her own, and released her hunger. Her hands groped her body and she felt them be pursued, whether to be slowed down or encouraged, she didn't dare find out. The only thing Jamie was interested in was freeing Sarah from the confines of her clothes. Her fingers traced the points of her hip, trolling through the waistband of her trousers and loosened them. The cool air contrasted with the sudden rise in heat of her skin but it wasn't the only immediate change.
"What's this?"
"Hmm?" Sarah moaned once she searched the porcelain face of the nameless woman
Jamie's thumb ran over Sarah's hip, tracing the calligraphic R inked into her flesh that was lit dimly by the streetlamp.
"Oh," she realized with her gaze fallen to the sidewalk.
"Oh. I see," Jamie mused with understanding. Her arms dropped to her side and she took a few steps back to give her space. A dark car showed up behind her, pulling over to the sidewalk. She saw the heat between them retract, the air physically changing around them, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Guilt from Sarah, from herself, Jamie wasn't entirely sure, but she knew she had to shake the feeling. She didn't lead her into the car like she wanted.
Sarah leaned against the glass and tugged her jacket around her torso. Her shoulders slumped as if someone was holding her down and more and more pieces began falling into place.
"Give me your phone," she demanded and Sarah willingly handed it over. Jamie pressed a few buttons and handed it back.
Sarah looked at the screen.
Jamie.
By the time Sarah looked up from her phone, Jamie had left.