Her eyes feasted over the jovial citizens of Seattle as they maneuvered their way through the small art museum to survey the new erotic works of brilliant artists from around the world. The women dazzled in evening dresses of your standard navies, emeralds, deep plums and basic blacks, some exposing skin, some laced in fur; all flattering and all cliche. Their heels clinked against the marble tile as they walk with their male escorts clad in black designer tuxes and matching bow ties, nodding their heads at the displayed art in fine admiration. She rolled her eyes in boredom. Bette Porter would bet a million dollars that over half the people in the museum didn't have a clue as to what they were looking at. She should be back home in New York where art was revered and cultivated. The last minute decision to show the exhibit in Seattle's Museum of Art had made her laugh until she knew that Patron Carnegie - their benefactor - had been serious and thought it a good idea to deviate a bit from the usual settings. Remembering the smirk on the benefactress' old bo-toxed face made her temples throb. She didn't however mind the few days delay before she would return home to her wife of two and a half years and partner of eleven. She missed her beloved Angie and their newest addition, Samantha, but things were becoming a little too terse between Mrs. and Mrs. Porter. They each travelled too much and worked too much and never had much time for anything else between their jobs and children including sex. And when they had it, it was quick, a routine job to be completed. Still she had yet to backslide on their fidelity even though temptation, after looking at the erotica that surrounded her, seemed to always be in her reach.

"Miss Porter?" her new red headed assistant called her attention and held a blackberry out to her.

Bette scanned over the text and grabbed the phone from Bria's young hand. "That fucking idiot." Bette silently roared as her fingers tapped against the letters on the device. Bria, already used to Bette's mini tantrums, stood silent as her boss handled a Chicago museum director that wanted to once again coordinate the times and set up of the exhibition's next stop.

"I swear the fucking bowlegged bastard couldn't find his own fucking dick if it weren't attached between his legs." She smiles congenially to a passerby that had heard the last syllables of her tantrum before returning to the matter at hand. Her fingers stroked the last key before pressing send and she smiled at her dutiful assistant, handing her back the instrument. "I'm going to check in with Bryan before I leave. Please see that a car is waiting for me." Bria smiled back and walked off, leaving Bette as she scanned around while rubbing her left temple with two fingers in search of Seattle's mingling art director Her eyes landed on a women that had obviously not gotten the black tie memo and everything about what she wore screamed that she didn't give a fuck.

It had been a hard day for the Orthopedic Surgeon and she needed something to unwind her after a nine hour surgery that still resulted in death after a complication of the heart valve. A flyer, advertising the exhibit, was stuck between the windshield and wipers of her car had caught her attention. She was supposed to meet a friend at Joe's but he had a last minute cancellation and she welcomed the chance to enjoy a different scene. Her parents made it their mission to take their young daughter to museums as a child and she had long missed the myriad of expressions that art exposed to her. She could have spent the evening relaxing in the comfort of her apartment but she also had a need to get away from home, or maybe anything that reminded her of her perky ex-girlfriend. Or was it her almost reconciled girlfriend? She hadn't decided yet, but in any case, she needed away from their monotonous daily life. Somehow she went from feeling like a cherished treasure to just a pretty possession as the fire that used to burn bright seemed barely to flicker. So tonight she'd get away from the blue eyed blond, work and friends and slipped into a strapless, skin tight yellow number that cupped and lifted her ass, stopping just below the knees with black stilettos that made her calves pop proudly. Her hair was straightened and poured over her right shoulder like a black waterfall, landing just above where her breast's curve rounded. She stood with one leg straight and the other with the knee slightly bent and an arm folded against the other that held a glass of red wine. Her head was cocked as she looked over the painting and the way she pursed her lips told Bette that she knew what she was looking at. The fact that it was Bette's favorite work of art in the exhibit didn't hurt.

Bette smoothed her long delicate fingers over her black, frill sleeve lace dress that travelled down the length of her to just above her ankles and then rubbed at the back of her neck to make sure no strand of curled brown locks had fallen from its place atop her head. With shoulders back, she began to approach the women that made her forget what here eyes were initially looking for.

"You like this one?"

The startled Latina turned to Bette with her free hand now covering her slightly heaving chest. She swallowed the remnants of red liquid that lingered on her tongue and smiled, her eyes completely leveled with the stranger's. "Yes. It's interesting."

"How so?"

An eyebrow arched and her eyes unsubtly scanned the tall beauty before her. Was she being challenged? The sudden electric chill that travelled her spine told her to play. "Well, this artist is an obvious fan of Monet, but what he does with with the mixture of colors is incredible. I've never seen them blend like that before."

Bette watched the raven haired's hands as they gestured at the work that hung a great expanse on the wall. There was something incredibly sexy about her hands. Delicate, but strong. She wondered how they felt.

"I'm a bit surprised they allowed the piece in here actually, considering the subject matter is a far reach from landscape paintings."

"Do you find it offensive?"

The Latina paused, eyeing between the work and the woman, her chest rising a falling a bit more rapidly. "Not at all. Erotica as art is breathtaking and incredibly hot."

Bette's lips parted at the emphasis, and her cheshire grin spread across her beautifully sculptured face. "Bette Porter."

"Callie Torres." She said, shaking the golden brown hand extended to her. Bette had been correct in her assessment, her hand was strong but softer than a rose petal.

"Do you know what I find enthralling?" Bette asked, her eyes now fixed on the creation.

"Please."

"The way this artist blends his subjects so that the observer doesn't quite know where he ends and she begins, as if both their inhibitions are intwined. See here?"

Callie looked down the stretch of Bette's arm, over every muscle, to the tip of her well manicured finger as she pointed at a specific part of the piece. Her eyes lingered just a bit at the smallness of her wrist before flicking her eyes to what was being pointed out to her.

"They're wholly connected yet still individualized."

Callie had long forgotten about the work as her eyes stared at Bette's profile as she talked with a passion that caused Callie to squeeze her thighs together in an effort to calm an arousal.

"The way he enters her, looks so painful," she finished with a shudder turning her brown eyes back to her new friend.

Callie smirked before taking another sip from her glass. "It's not that painful."

Bette raised an ironic eyebrow as her pouty lips spread slowly and a small laugh escaped. Of course she would approach yet another bisexual. She had a gift.

Bria approached Bette with caution having witnessed the exchange of flirtatious glances. "Ms. Porter?"

Bette twisted her torso to turn toward her tiny helper, smile still in tact.

"Your car is waiting."

She gave a simple nod before returning her attention to Callie and Bria was off.

"You're leaving?" Callie questioned, disappointment lacing her voice.

Bette hesitated. She knew she should leave and that a simple goodbye should be the last of it, but something about the younger woman intrigued her and to end their new acquaintance would be a shame. Something about they way her eyes displayed so many emotions with every glance. Or maybe it was the way she bit at her bottom lip that threatened to ruin a new pair of underwear. Still she could not fall back to old habits and she lowered her eyes to hide the burning desire behind them.

"Yes, a lovely suite at the Archfield awaits me. I have to be up early for a flight to Chicago, and do this all over again."

Callie noticed the look, the same look her girlfriend used to give to her that easily set her ablaze. The radiant smile that went along with the look only made her curiosity about the older woman intensify. But Callie wasn't a cheater so she attempted to let it go. Instead she swallowed and brought her glass back to her mouth. Bette caught the glass with her hand clasped over Callie's and a small shock went through them both. She smiled, taking the glass from Callie and took a sip, her eyes returning to fall on Callie's as the brunette unconsciously licked her lips. Bette ignored the twinge between her legs before handing the glass back.

"Hmmm." She wasn't sure if the pleasure came from the taste of wine or the yearning behind her new friend's eyes. She decided to tempt fate. "Care to join me?"