AN: I know I haven't posted anything in a few months, but I'm right in the middle of finals. This one story wouldn't let me study though, so I decided to write it.
This is a continuation of sorts to Friendly Competition. It's not necessary to read the first one, but why not?
I encourage and appreciate constructive criticism of any kind :)
~dizzy
"Have you been to this place before?"
The words make Francine's step falter, and she covers it by looking around for their target. She chances a look back at Amanda's face but there is no reproach in her features - is the housewife's face even capable of that expression? - not even curiosity, just a nervousness that tells her Amanda doesn't really realize what it would mean for Francine to frequent a lesbian nightclub.
That fact frays Francine's nerves even more, and she sighs tiredly. Have three years of exposure to Scarecrow done nothing for Amanda's naivety?
"Of course not," she replies tersely.
They spend the next few seconds in silence before the sight of a flashy woman making her way towards the bar catches Francine's attention. Cristina Balboa, wife of Congressman Balboa and apparently responsible for the latest leak in security.
Francine steps closer to Amanda instinctively and leans to whisper in her ear, sure that such a gesture would seem natural in a place like this. "That's her on the red dress. Let's wait her out." Amanda nods and Francine feels a few tendrils of her hair tickle her cheek. She pulls away and clears her throat, reminds herself a couple of times to behave professionally, before they both turn to stare at Balboa silently.
Francine can guess what Amanda's feeling. Surprise that a congressman's wife spends her nights with a terrorist, maybe disgust that that terrorist happens to be another woman. That thought makes Francine's stomach roll, but she reminds herself that this is not the moment to retrospect on that particular feeling.
Amanda manages to surprise her once again.
"I feel so bad for that poor woman." Francine whips her head around at that, momentarily forgetting to keep her eye on Cristina.
"What?"
Amanda is still looking at the woman with compassion, and it unnerves Francine to no end.
"She obviously doesn't love her husband," Francine snorts at that but Amanda continues, "I just wish she wasn't forced to sneak around just to find someone to love."
The words make sharp tears spring to Francine's eyes and she furiously turns back towards Balboa, concentrating on the mission. Damn Amanda King. Damn her and her insight.
Amanda's words hit a nerve in a way even Francine wasn't expecting. For the first time since she was assigned this case Francine hates her assignment. She's about to expose this woman, ruin her reputation and social life. She doesn't know if Balboa is aware of the importance of the documents her lover is requesting, but experience tells her victims of this kind of crime hardly ever do. This terrorist has tricked Balboa out of so much more than just classified information.
This only strengthens Francine's resolve. She might be about to cause the woman's life to come tumbling down, but she'll make sure that terrorist won't be free to take advantage of any more lonely women any time soon.
She turns to Amanda when Balboa walks towards the back of the bar, arm in arm with a curvy brunette.
"Let's go."
They make their way towards them, through a concrete doorway and into a corridor that serves as a storage area of sorts. Balboa and her escort stand a few meters away, half hidden behind some crates. Francine takes out the small camera the Agency provided her with and subtly snaps a few pictures of the two women, including one of Balboa giving the brunette a manila envelope. Francine curses under her breath. She was so hoping the Agency information was wrong.
The brunette lays a comforting hand on her lover's cheek and as Balboa turns around, Francine realizes why the woman had looked so familiar. At first she had assumed she knew her from one of these clubs - she wasn't lying to Amanda when she said she hadn't been in this bar before, but she visited plenty others - but now she remembers they had met in an embassy function where Francine had organized security.
Francine panics as the woman gets closer. There's no time to sneak out of the place without seeming conspicuous, and she can't let Balboa know she is being followed.
She would later reflect on the fact that she must spend too much time around Stetson, because at that moment, and without a second thought, she turns around towards Amanda, and after a whispered apology, cups her face and crushes their lips together.
She is far from ready for the feelings that come from having Amanda's soft lips under her own, and she really doesn't mean to kiss her, just pretend and hide her face from Balboa, but then Amanda's hands clutch to Francine's jacket shakily, and Francine can't help but move her mouth tenderly around Amanda's lips. To calm her, she tells herself.
She expects the housewife to pull back, look at Francine with fright or disgust, or any other sentiment she has seen on straight women she had mistakenly thought would be interested. What she doesn't expect is for Amanda to let out a tiny sigh, and relax further in Francine's arms, responding to the kiss with what can only be considered as careful enthusiasm.
Francine is not sure how she can keep part of her senses on Balboa, but she feels a current of air - and that's what she'll blame the shiver that curses through her spine on - as she walks past them, and the staccato of her heels fades as she walks back into the club.
Francine allows herself one more second before pulling away, and can't help but suck tenderly on Amanda's lower lip before she does break the kiss.
Amanda's gaze is a bit clouded, and Francine is grateful that she doesn't seem to register the flush that she feels creeping up on her own cheeks.
"Sorry about that," she whispers, and Amanda gives her a shy smile that Francine wants to lose herself in.
"That's all right."
They both seem reluctant to put some distance between their bodies, and it's only when Francine thinks back to Balboa that she pulls back quickly.
"We need to follow the terrorist, come on." She extends her hand towards Amanda without a second thought, and although her whole demeanor is back to business, she allows herself a small smile as Amanda takes the offered hand and intertwines their fingers together.