Oh God, what have I created...

This is the result of reading too much smut over the past few months.

Suddenly, she wanted to be back at The Tops. Of course, she'd feel embarrassed going back after chasing its owner out of the Strip and making quite a scene.

But it was better than being in a disgusting casino seedier than a common whorehouse. Hell, she'd rather be back at the Ultra-Luxe, and by God, was that place stuffy as hell. The Courier understood now that the three major casinos on the Strip were for three different kinds of people: the stuck-up elitists; the sex-fiends; and the normal people who preferred musical performances and comedians to the hookers and peep shows that Gomorrah offered or the expensive over-the-top cuisines that were offered at the Ultra-Luxe. She never would have come to the casino in the first place if it wasn't the home of the Omertas- but it was them who most likely made the casino into a whorehouse in the first place. (…Although judging by the old, pre-war billboards across the Mojave, it was probably always like that).

The Omertas were one of the many groups that she needed to get on her side if she was going to go through Yes Man's plan, and she might as well be on the good graces on the five groups he mentioned. However, she figured it couldn't have been harder than solving the cannibalism problem of the White Glove Society.

Gomorrah wasn't as full as she initially thought it would be- there were only a handful of gamblers who were actually taking part in blackjack or roulette, but if someone entered a casino for the sole purpose of gambling, then The Tops would have been the spot to go. She suspected that the majority of Gomorrah's customers were being entertained by prostitutes and liquor in other rooms, but it meant nothing to her… at least, that's what she originally thought.

When she talked with the receptionist, she was told to look for a "Cachino"- the key to getting on the Omertas good side, hopefully.

…That was, until she got lost, and found her way into the courtyard instead.

The large, open area reeked of lust and sex. Saying that she felt uncomfortable was merely an understatement. She immediately back-tracked, turned, and went for the door… until she felt a soft body pressing against her.

Fuck it all- why the hell does he always have to come back here?

He was half-way across the courtyard, hell, he wasn't even looking at her… He was about to walk in a tent with Dazzle, but the very presence of him made her want to gag…

Dammit, why couldn't Cachino just fucking stay in the Zorua Club with Nero's dick shoved down his throat?

The Omertas were all cold-hearted, scheming sons-of-bitches, and some of them were just as perverted as any of the johns that came to Gomorrah for a good lay. It was like a prerequisite before you could become one of their thugs.

But none of them were… they were all nothing compared to that half-assed, fucking rapist.

And she was his fucking favorite. The one he "liked" the most out of all the whores that worked at this stupid casino. And by "like", that meant having to wake up with his dick shoved up her ass, and having the damn thing constantly in her mouth. If she could have anything in the world, it would be to have that bastard castrated… Hopefully, that's what Big Sal and Nero will do when they find out he's been stealing money from them behind their back.

Dammit, how long has it been since he went in that tent with Dazzle? Five… ten minutes? She should have been happy that it was someone else he was with, instead of her, but it just made Joana even more anxious.

He was going to come out eventually. And when he does, he would come to her- she was sure of it. It happened more than once in the past; Cachino would come in the courtyard, spend some time with one of the prostitutes like Dazzle, or even Sweetie when she was working at Gomorrah before she left to work at Westside… and right when Joana thought she was in the clear, Cachino would strike.

Sick little…

And that's when she saw her.

Right in the middle of her thoughts, a woman came through the double doors of the courtyard… Interesting. Women didn't usually come to the courtyard…. Well, they did, but not as often as men.

What's more, she was young. She couldn't have been older than eighteen or nineteen… maybe twenty… No, scratch that, she had to be nineteen at the most. Because no twenty-year old would be blushing as hard as she was at the moment.

The poor thing looked lost- there was no way she came into Gomorrah on her own. Maybe it was part of a bet she lost… or won. (That was usually the case with some of the younger NCR soldiers she's bedded). Either way, there was no way she wanted to be there; the expression on her face revealed as much.

But she was pretty nonetheless. Really pretty…

To her surprise, Joana found herself eyeing the woman's body- every curve, every crease on her outfit, and every strand of golden-brown hair that flowed in front of her pretty, blue eyes.

Cachino could come out of that tent at any moment… and this girl, this woman wasn't bad to look at. (Which was something rare in the prostitution world).

…So why not?

Joana eyed the Courier almost possessively, letting the other whores in the courtyard know that she "called" her. It wasn't every day that she did such a thing, but today was an exception.

The golden-haired woman had turned away from the courtyard, with her hand on the doorknob, but before she could leave, she felt Joana's body pressed against her.

"Well, what do we have here?" She purred, her arms slinking around the young woman's neck, pressing her whole body against her back.

She didn't exactly react to Joana as expected- she nearly jumped out of her skin like a virgin, and her face reddened when she turned her head, and was literally merely an inch or two away from her face.

It was cute.

Fuck. She was definitely in the wrong place. She didn't come here to get laid, she came here to increase her chances of taking over Vegas.

…Then why the hell couldn't she tell that to this prostitute? Cause she never expected a pretty face to wrap her arms around her neck the moment she walked into the courtyard, that's why... God fucking dammit.

"What's wrong?" She cooed. "Didn't you come here to fulfill your heart's deepest desires?"

She nuzzled her face in the base of the Courier's neck, waiting for a response. The Courier opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her whole body was turned away from the courtyard, but she was sure half of the people who weren't being entertained were starring at her right now, probably in utter envy.

Joana perked her head up at the lack of a response- maybe she wasn't into women? If she wasn't, she would have said something by now. Joana slipped her arms away from the other woman's neck, and gently turned her around to face her, creating little space between them. She backed her up against the door, and softly pinned her against it by grabbing her hands and pacing them above her head.

Now the two were face to face, again, merely inches apart and Annette finally got a clearer look at Joana's face. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it- her dark hair had a pretty shine and soft feel to it, looking almost like silk. Her features were soft and gentle… but her face was pale, and had dark circles under her eyes, as though she hasn't slept in days. But there was one thing that immediately caught Annette's attention- the multiple, tiny small holes on her neck. Needle marks smaller than psycho and hydra… med-x. It had to be.

And her eyes… despite the flirtatious tone in her voice, the woman's once pretty grey eyes were dead.

"Don't try to deny it, sweetie," She cooed, again. There was no hint of sadness or anger in her eyes, and there was no sound of it in her voice. She was good at faking this. "You followed the calls of your desires to me… to Joana,"

If she confronted her about the med-x now, in front of all these people, she'd deny it.

Still, Annette's mother died from an overdose of med-x. No way in hell she'd let that happen to anyone else.

"So tell me, do you have what it takes?"

I gotta get her alone… What did her brother called her, once? Oh yeah, a "cherchez la femme". Apparently, he heard the term from a Follower, but didn't know what it meant… he assumed that it has something to do with being a "seductive lesbian", but his assumptions were usually, always wrong. (Maybe Arcade knew what it meant...)

Her "acts of seduction" only happened once before she got shot in the head. It was awkward because her brother, Tristan, was present. The two tried to get out of the NCR capital only after staying there for a few days, but the guard at the borderline of the city wouldn't let either of them leave because, apparently, they had "illegal weapons" on hand. (Plasma weapons bought from the Van Graffs apparently counted as illegal weapons). It was a gamble, but Annette flirted her way past the female guard, allowing her and Tristan to leave the capital in peace without their weapons being confiscated…

After that small incident, Tristan learned that his little sister liked both men and women. She didn't prefer one over the other. Hell, she even thought about seducing Benny for a moment to get him alone in his room to question him, but she decided against it.

As if he'd really fall for something like that. But she still managed to convince him to talk to her alone in the presidential suite, and she finally learned why he tracked her down and tried to kill her- all for a platinum chip and the possibility to take New Vegas.

When she first met Yes Man, she had no desire to deal with the city's fate at all... Hell, she never even sat foot in the Mojave until she decided to become a courier for a short time. It wasn't any of her business… But the thought of being used by NCR, Caesar's Legion, and Mr. House made her sick to her stomach. She hated it.

Building an independent Vegas would have been the biggest "Fuck you" to all three of them, and she would've loved to see the looks on their faces when they found out she'd been screwing all three of them. God, it would feel good.

But now here she was, having Gomorrah's top prostitute throwing herself on her. It was a good act. They all had to put on an act, didn't they? It was all an interesting start to the process of taking over the city.

Annette gulped a little- she didn't know if this would work, but it was worth a try.

Her lips curled into a small, suggestive smile. Her eyes fluttered when she spoke, "I always have what it takes." Despite what people have said, Annette didn't think she was that charismatic, but the way she convinced people to tell her certain information they didn't want others to know, or persuade others to do what she wanted told her otherwise. Hell, that's how she got Arcade and Cass to follow her- She used her so-called "silver-tongue". Part of her was glad she left both of them at the Lucky 38, she didn't want him or the others to see her in this… "predicament".

Joana was taken aback by the sudden burst of confidence that emitted from Annette's perfect blue eyes. She almost reminded her of an animal hunting its prey… but almost. This sudden change in attitude caught her a little off guard, but she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter- she'd be paid in any case… and, most importantly, it would keep herself farther, and farther away from Cachino… even just for a little while.

"Oh, confident. I like that. What do you want to do with what you got?" At that point, Joana had placed her knee between Annette's legs, arching her body.

The Courier tried her hardest to ignore it as she fluttered her eyes again, her voice low, "The better question is, what are you gonna do with it?"

Annette wondered for a moment if Joana could see through her act just as she sees through hers- from Joana's response, she either didn't notice, or didn't care.

"Oh my, well aren't you something else?" She purred, leaning in toward her "customer", her lips to her ear, "I guess you'll just have to find out yourself."

A similar purr escaped from Annette's throat, "Lead the way."

Joana slid herself away as though she were patiently waiting for something, with space finally between them.

As Joana walked the other woman back to her room, she scanned the courtyard, looking for Cachino- he was nowhere to be seen. Probably still with Dazzle, thank God.

When they entered Joana's room, the thing that immediately caught Annette's attention was the large bed in the middle of the room, with the lights dimly lit. Ironically, the darkness made her feel more uncomfortable in this situation.

As Annette walked inside the room, Joana locked the door behind her. Part of her just wanted to throw the other woman on the bed, and get it over with, while another part of her wanted to drag it out as long as she could. The longest time she was ever with someone, it was almost an hour- the bastard had enough money to keep her for so long, and the two fucked in a number of strange, screwed up ways. Not to mention it all had gotten monotonous very quickly, and faking moans had gotten tiring.

They'll be other customers, she was sure of it. Better to just get it over with quickly.

"So, you said your name was Joana- " Annette was stopped when the other woman came onto her again, their bodies practically melting against each other as Joana laid her hands against Annette's chest, as though waiting for a kiss.

"Yes? What's wrong, lover?"

The Courier looked into her dead eyes again, but then saw her fiddling with the zipper of the merc cruiser outfit that she bought in Primm, replacing the Vault 21 suit Doc Mitchell gave her. She lightly took hold of the prostitute's hands and removed them from her chest.

"Aren't you even going to ask me my name?"

Joana blinked, unsure how to respond. "O-Oh yes… So what is it, hon? I'm sure it's something pretty."

"Annette," The Courier replied. "My name's Annette."

Annette… So it was something pretty after all… Before she could let her thoughts get to her, a fake, lascivious smirk appeared on Joana's face as she went up to the Courier again. But this time, she practically pushed her down onto the bed. It was a playful, lenient shove that caused her to fall back and land on her rear. Annette's face flushed as Joana leaned over her.

"I'm all yours now, baby." Again, she placed her hands on the other woman's chest, and began to slowly pull down the zipper of her outfit, almost annoyed to see that there was a white shirt underneath. "Why don't you lie down on the bed? Make yourself comfortable, and I'll take care of you..."

And once again, she was cut off by Annette removing her hands, but with a bit more force this time; however there wasn't a hint of annoyance or frustration in her eyes or on the expression on her face.

"Wait a minute! I, um- how about we just talk first, for a minute?" She asked kindly.

Joana had a brief flash of confusion in her eyes for a moment, but it almost faded as she composed herself. She gracefully sat down next to her, their shoulders practically touching, and her hand on Annette's. "Yes?"

Joana feigned looking deep into her eyes- usually when a customer had a full-blown conversation with her, it was about themselves- what they were going through in life, their worries, their hopes and dreams… But it was usually during sex.

"Well, uh…" Annette looked at the marks on Joana's neck. "I want to know more about you."

She wanted to know more about her? That's odd. Why should she care?

"Oh, I'm really nothing special, hon. I'm the best lay in Gomorrah," She stated it blandly as though it were a fact. "That's all you need to know."

She's avoiding the question…. Although Joana was leaning in closer and closer to her, Annette stayed still.

God, this is a stupid question, but it's better than nothing. "Well, do you like it here?"

"I like it that you're here," Annette gave a small frown, but didn't say anything…. She found that nothing could come out of her mouth as Joana was leaning in toward her, their lips barely touching.

"…Doesn't that make you happy?"

Almost immediately, Annette pushed her away. "Joana, wait- "

Her hands were firm on her shoulders, and looked straight into the prostitute's confused eyes.

"What's wrong, love?" Joana asked passively. Why the hell was this woman acting like this? No one else ever acted like this… Wait. Could it be that she noticed the…? No, there's no way she could notice the med-x marks, there's no way.

None of the other women or men in this brothel noticed- how could this woman? Was she a doctor, or a Follower? The Followers knew all about pre-war medicine since most of them studied it, so maybe…No, no- she was thinking too much. This woman, this… Annette. She's just another customer. Another pretty face.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

Hell, how was Annette suppose to say this- "Oh, I noticed that you've been overdosing on med-x. It's bad for you, so you should stop". GOD, she'd sound obnoxious.

"It's not that, it's just…" And fuck, she was pretty. She could have been one of those- what were they called? Those pre-war moving pictures? Oh yeah, movies. She looked like she could be in one of those critically acclaimed romance movies.

But she was stuck in a seedy, little hellhole like this. How the hell could she end up here? How had all of these men and women ended up here? Things couldn't have been so bad that they had to… sell themselves, could they?

Annette had gotten her answer when she was roughly pushed down to the bed.

"Then let's get started."

When Annette fell to the bed, she let out a small noise, which Joana ignored as she crawled on top of her. When she sat up, she placed her hands on Annette's stomach, and began to straddle the lower region of the other woman's body. Joana wore no underwear underneath her lingerie, as the only thing separating the two sexes were the clothes Annette was wearing.

Joana gave another sensual smirk as Annette's face began to color deep red. She leaned in toward the Courier, arching her back as she did so.

"You don't have to move a muscle," She whispered lewdly.

Instead of aiming for her lips, Joana placed small, loving kisses on her throat.

In her mind, if she had any sense or pride, Annette would have pushed her off and tell her to stop. But the lump in her throat prevented her from doing so, and the aspect of practically being forced on by a beautiful woman made her body go numb.

The first articles of clothing that Joana removed from the Courier were her arm warmers as she managed to kick her boots off. Sporadic kisses were placed across her jaw line when Joana finally removed the first layer of her clothing and tossed it to the floor, revealing the annoying white tank top and worn-out pants.

Joana snaked one of her hands under her shirt, and marveled at how smooth her skin was before becoming even more pleased when realizing that she wore no bra underneath. Her hand cupped her breast and softly massaged it, before squeezing it, causing Annette to gasp.

She nearly giggled at her reaction when her other hand made its way to the zipper of her pants when she leaned in to kiss her throat again…

"If you continue to overdose like this, you'll die."

Joana froze.

The two of them stayed in their awkward position for a few seconds before she removed her hands from Annette's body and placed them on the sides of the bed as she slowly lifted her head.

When their eyes met, Annette saw that she managed to break through; the truth of haunted pain and agony was revealed in her tired, grey eyes, and the expression on her face gave Annette all the confirmation she needed to affirm that she hit the mark.

"Wha- How do you…"

But then she was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. "Joana! Hey, Joana! What the hell you'd lock the door, for?"

Fuck- Cachino!

"Cachino, I'm with a customer!" She called out back to him, like a girlfriend calling back to her abusive boyfriend.

"I'm comin' in, Joana…" His words were slurred, and lazy- God, he was probably drunk. Drinking while getting laid with a two-bit whore. Jesus, how that sounds like an Omerta thing to do…

When she heard the small jingling of a set of keys from behind the door, Annette saw the desperate panic in Joana's eyes as she looked at the door. Her sunken eyes had widened- was it from fear? It had to be. The once confident air she had immediately vanished from the sound of the other man's voice, and her whole body would have shaken if she wasn't already paralyzed with fear and agony. This was the real Joana, she was seeing right now- she was broken, just like a Legion slave, and this man was the legionnaire who used her like she was a play thing- like she was an object. From the poor look in Joana's eyes, it was as though she were waiting for a miracle to happen.

Why couldn't Annette be that miracle?

"Hey, asshole!" She shouted from across the room.

"Wha…? Hey, who the fuck's in there?" The sound of keys stopped as Cachino slurred. A small, confident smirk formed on the Courier's lips, and continued:

"If you want any caps from her, then find some other whore to fuck- otherwise, I'm takin' my caps to The Tops!"

"W-What? What's the fuck your problem, jackass- "

"What? You think I'm not serious? Because there's no way in hell I'm gonna pay if you don't fucking beat it!"

Normally, there would have been no way in hell that Cachino would have ever let anyone in Gomorrah talk to him like that- even if it was a good paying gambler. But at the moment, he was too drunk to fully care about the disrespect, and the stake of possible lost caps made him back off.

"W-Whoa, whoa there, settle down," He slurred. "There's no need for that, Mister…"

It was funny how more reasonable Cachino was when he was wasted. Hell, he couldn't even tell from the sound of her voice that it was a woman Joana was with. "You want this bitch for a few hundred caps? Then… go for it… S- Sorry about the disturbance… Just don't go givin' your caps to those fucking Chairmen…" With his words beginning to fade, the two women could hear Cachino's footsteps farther, and farther away from the door.

He's gone… Thank God, he's gone…

Letting out the air she'd been holding in, Joana never felt so relieved in her life. The tension in her body had faded, and she found herself lowering herself on top of the Courier again, but it was from a desperate, thankful reprieve that Cachino left- that he most likely wouldn't be bothering her for the rest of the day.

Joana buried her face in the nape of her neck, her fingers curled around in Annette's soft hair. She could feel Joana's heart beating fast against her chest.

"Are you okay?"

Her heart merely began to beat faster when Annette's breath brushed against her skin.

She lazily lifted her head, and placed her lips next to her ear, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She answered as though she helped people all the time… Strange…

Joana lowered her head back down to the Courier's neck and laid there for a moment, feeling Annette's delicate fingers through her hair, almost as if she was trying to calm her down before she would begin to cry... it felt nice.

"Joana, who was that?" She asked gently.

At that point, Joana had gotten off of Annette, and sat herself at the edge of the bed- she didn't want her to ask her that. She didn't want to… didn't want to let her know. Carlitos knew… oh hell, did Carlitos know… She was so embarrassed when he found out, and he was absolutely infuriated- Infuriated at the fact that someone like Cachino constantly abused her like he did. Carlitos didn't deserve someone like her, she knew he didn't. She hoped that he was all right… that the Omertas didn't kill him after all…

Oh, Carlitos…

"Joana…?"

She was shaking. She didn't want her to hear it- she didn't want her to know-

Annette placed a hand on her shoulder, causing Joana to shudder at her touch. "Joana, you can trust me."

Joana drooped her head. "Please, tell me what's going on?"

And then she broke down- tears began to flow down her face, and her breathing began to speed up.

"I-I- " Annette sat next down to Joana at the edge of the bed, her hand never leaving her shoulder.

"-I don't know what's happening to me anymore." She tried to wipe her tears from her face, but it was still stained a bright red. "I can't feel a thing anymore. It's like poison. Empty. Like the Wasteland."

Her voice was hollow, and emotionless- like she was broken, and no amount of pity or sympathy could heal her.

"If the med-x doesn't kill me, then the Omertas will," She confessed.

Joana buried her face in her hands, "I can't do this anymore, I can't…"

Almost immediately, Carlitos' face popper into her head.

"…Not without Carlitos. He helped me get through this… He did," He helped me live this miserable life in this god awful casino without going insane. "Until he…"

Images of what happened almost half a month ago began appearing in her head: Her and Carlitos kissing in a dark hallway, until they were found by a lower-class Omerta thug; Carlitos coming to her later that night, saying that the two will run away together; and finally, Big Sal leading a small group of Omertas chasing him out of the casino, bullets firing into the floor and doors.

It wasn't until that incident, when Carlitos disappeared, that Joana began using med-x as constantly as she did. In the past, Joana only used the drug one in a while, when she was under pressure from the Omertas and the other prostitutes.

Life in the brothel seemed to have gotten worse after Carlitos had disappeared.

Although she had the same customers, the same hours, the same pat, life in Gomorrah was dead to her.

Before she met Carlitos, Joana originally thought that when she made enough money, she would leave the Strip, and live in Freeside for a brief time until she could make way for Primm or Goodsprings, and live her life quietly. When Carlitos entered her life, she was sure she could escape Gomorrah, and live a normal life with him.

But after that… incident… Any kind of hope had been drained from her, and she was certain she would be stuck here forever.

"I- I don't know why I'm telling you this…"

Annette managed to move her hand from her shoulder, and placed it on Joana's, "Tell me about Carlitos."

So she did. Joana told her about who he was, and what he was to her. She told her everything… and Annette sat there, and listened to her patiently.

When Joana mentioned Cachino's name in her story, Annette asked about him as well, but seemed more curious.

"Do you know where I can find him?" She asked.

For some reason, Joana felt a ping of irritation. She removed her hand, and responded with another question:

"Why?" Her voice was soft, but sounded almost betrayed.

"Let's just say… I need something from him."

To her surprise, the other woman felt frustrated; was it the fact that the subject was now on Cachino? That Annette was all of a sudden more interested in that piece of filth than her? Was that it?

Was that why she felt this abrupt pain in her chest?

"About Carlitos…"

Upon hearing his name, Joana immediately was snapped back into reality.

"Do you think he still might be on the Strip?" Annette asked.

For some reason, Joana found herself shaking. "I- I don't know. He was chased out a couple weeks ago. He- He might be…"

Before she could say anything else, Annette stood from the bed, and placed her hands on Joana's shoulders, kneeling down to her level as she did so. The two were now face to face, looking into each other's eyes.

"He got away, right? Did they go after him as soon as he left Gomorrah's doors?"

Joana was no longer crying, but her eyes were still red. "N- No… not that I know of. At least- at least I don't think so…"

"Then he's probably all right."

In actuality, Annette had no idea if the woman's lover was alive or dead. The Omertas could have easily sent more of their thugs days later to track down the man and kill him. But it was clear even to Annette that Joana had been through a lot; She wanted her to feel better. Besides, Carlitos could very well still be alive on the Strip, and the Omertas just never noticed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Joana's lips parted for a brief moment- She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

It must have been an odd thing to think, but the situation felt so strangely foreign to her. A complete stranger was offering to do something for her, but-

"What do you want in exchange?"

Now Annette was the one who blinked in confusion. "What- "

"Is it money? Sex? I can give you both if you want," She pleaded. "I don't care what it is you want, but I just… I just want him back. I want to see him again…"

Annette's eyes fluttered to the ground, trying to avoid her stare- Joana looked like she was about to cry again. And Joana's words… it was almost like she was challenging her.

Like she was daring her to make a promise that she couldn't keep.

All of her little "quests" since arriving to the Mojave had been the results of promises to others, and the fact that Annette could never say "no". Tristan often told her it was one of her faults… This was all something he would have done, anyway. Daring her to keep an impossible promise- a promise that she would be forced to break. To show her that she can't be the peoples' saint all the time. That she has to say "no" at one point or the other…

She never said no to House. Or Legion. Or even the NCR. She never told House she would help him, but he entrusted her to go to the Fort anyway and upgrade his Securitrons. She never said she would help Legion, yet Vulpes Inculta gave her the Mark of Caesar anyway. And she didn't exactly say "yes" to the Ambassador when he asked for her help- she merely said, "I'll think about it".

When all three asked for her help, it dawned on her- what did she care for the three of them? Why should she help them? None of them have ever done anything for her, and all three of them were far from perfect. When it boiled down to it, House was the reason she got shot in the first place; the NCR was becoming more corrupt by the minutes, and the Mojave would be nothing but another worthless territory; but the Legion was the worst of the three. Legion was nothing more than a large, violent cult, made up of brutal Slavers.

None of them deserved the Mojave. None of them deserved New Vegas.

The Courier got up, and gathered her few articles of clothing on the floor and put them back on. And to Joana's dismay, reached for the door. She turned toward the prostitute, but didn't see the look of desperation that flashed through her eyes as Annette spoke, "If I see him, I'll tell him you're still here… waiting for him."

Joana saw the Courier's hand of the knob- She was leaving.

"I'll see you later, Joana,"

The pain in Joana's chest had gone to its climax as she had an epiphany at Annette's words- She didn't want her to leave.

Wait-!

Annette's back was turned toward her when Joana jumped up from the bed and rushed over toward her. She pressed herself against her, grabbing fistfuls of her clothing, "Don't go."

The two were suddenly in the same exact position they were in merely moments ago outside in the courtyard- with Annette attempting to leave, only to be stopped by Joana, who embraced her from behind.

"Please don't go."

Annette removed her hand from the doorknob as Joana continued speaking with an uncertain tone, "He might show up again, so please…"

She put her hand on the door and swallowed before turning to face Joana. Unable to ignore the heat between her legs, her mind was in a near frenzy as she finally processed what the other woman really wanted…

"…So please stay here tonight."

She wanted an escape.

An escape from Gomorrah, an escape from Cachino, from the Omertas… Hell, she even wanted to escape the feeling of loneliness and heartache from being without Carlitos. Even if her escape was ironically sex, why couldn't it be with Annette? She was a fresh face, a pretty face- and she's never really seen anyone like her before… any woman like her in any case.

But it couldn't just be with anybody- it had to be her, it had to be Annette. She was never physically, or mentally attracted to any of her customers before; She wasn't willing to sleep with any of them, even if she wasn't a prostitute. …But she was more than willing to be with Annette. Even if she wasn't some common whore, if Annette asked, she'd do it; Just for her. Only for her. That was why it had to be her. No one else.

Joana laid her head against her neck. She stayed there for a minute before pressing her lips to her skin, planting small kisses as her lips slowly moved upward toward the nape of her neck.

Annette had that annoying, funny feeling in her crotch again as the slow scene began to drag on. The tired pace of Joana's lingering kisses was agonizing, and only made the dark part of her heart wanting more.

Even if it all was just some brief, feeble attempt to escape from reality, Annette kept asking herself why of all people, she chose her. But it was all to make herself avoid the the simple, unspoken truth; Joana was attracted to her. Maybe even wanted her.

Annette didn't push her away this time. And of course, that meant another unspoken truth that annoyed her to death; She was attracted to her, too.

…So why the hell not?

Lost in Joana's touch, the Courier's hand lingered down from her arms, and roamed over the curve of her body. During this, she responded to the prostitute's earlier request, giving her the answer she wanted to hear. A small smile developed on Joana's face, and relief flooded into her eyes as she lifted her head, and faced the Courier.

But for some reason, it wasn't enough.

"Prove it," She softly demanded. "Prove to me that you're not like all the others."

Her caresses weren't enough- She wanted more, needed more. The Courier could sense that in her shaky voice.

She responded by wrapping her arms around her, and kissing her neck lasciviously. Her touch caused a brief gasp from the prostitute as she clutched her by the arms and clumsily pulled her to the bed, causing her to fall on her back, taking Annette with her.

She continued to respond favorably to the woman's kisses, wincing in pleasure with each patch of skin she tasted. Through all of this, Joana managed to gently grab, and comb her fingers through her hair, loving the way her soft hair felt on her skin.

For the first time in a long while, Joana could feel the heat between her legs, her skin shuddering with each hickey she could feel being placed on her skin. Yet their lips hadn't met once- it was driving her mad.

When Annette lifted her head, their eyes met, and Joana began to cup her face in her hands.

"Kiss me."

Annette looked at her for a moment before leaning her down and giving her a tender kiss.

The kisses her customers gave her were always greedy, sloppy and lustful… hers were gentle, but teasing. Carlitos' lips were rough and chapped, while hers tasted sweet… and she wanted more.

She wrapped her arms around her neck, and deepened the kiss. She took Annette by surprise when she forced her tongue through her lips and began to explore her soft mouth. Not that Annette complained. If anything, it only increased her arousal. Annette removed her hands from her new lover, and quickly removed the upper part of her clothes, cursing herself for putting them back on after Joana removed them earlier, only having them to be taken off again.

While removing her pants for her, Joana nearly missed the sight of Annette's beautiful, naked body as she removed her white tanktop. She never noticed the slight tan the Courier had, until now. Despite the scars, Joana found herself unable to look away. Her breasts were perfect- small enough to not be a burden, but large enough to fit in her hands. She envied them for a moment, since she always believed hers were slightly too large.

Joana would have reached up and kissed them if she didn't notice Annette reaching for the hem of her own lingerie. She swatted her hand away, and before Annette could react in annoyance, Joana sat up, and slowly lifted up her pink lingerie, letting Annette allow her eyes to roam over her newly nude form.

In an instant, their tongues were locked again, and they found themselves laid back down on the bed, their naked bodies melding together.

Annette's mouth eventually made its way down her stomach, all the way to the entrance of her sex, causing Joana to moan her name furiously, and groan as her tongue swirled inside her. When she stopped, Joana violently flipped them over and attacked Annette wildly with a fiery kiss; their lips only parting once when she slid her fingers down her stomach, and found their way to her core. She brushed her fingers along the sides of her sex before entering a finger, causing Annette to dig her nails into her skin. All during this, she made a small noise indicating she was in complete ecstasy.

As she felt a second finger sliding into her, Annette moaned again, causing Joana to have a desperate response: "Say my name, Annette."

Their panting filled the room, as she continued: "I want to hear your voice call my name- I want to hear my name on your lips."

Reaching her climax, she complied.

"Joana…!"

The two took turns pleasuring one another, neither one of them wanting it to stop. The Courier finished kissing and sucking Joana's breasts one last time before laying her head on her chest, and finally falling into a deep sleep.

While she slept, Joana began to stroke her hair, and watch her as she slept. She didn't want to close her eyes just yet; right now, she was content. For once, everything just felt so right… and for once, she didn't want to think of this as a one-night stand. She didn't.

She turned on her side, allowing the sleeping Annette to turn with her, which resulted in the two women laying opposite one another on her large bed. The angle the two were now in allowed Joana to study her features even more; she took in the small, sun-kissed blemishes and freckles on her face, the slight thickness of her dark eyebrows, and the recent scar on her forehead.

She loved it all.

Joana found herself stroking her face, and taking her hand in hers before her eyelids began to close. And before she finally fell asleep, she heard herself whispering her new lover's name…

"Annette…"

I feel like I raped this fanfic... at least, I raped half way through. I'm sort of pleased with it... I guess. But I still think the ending's... it's not perfect. I guess this is what happens when you try to write a your first full-length semi (slight)-smut of femslash. Pfff... what's wrong with me? You know, since I wrote my very first, full-length femslash fanfic, I'll give a weird fun fact about myself: I like guys, yet I prefer yuri over yaoi. I personally blame Gravitation (That show ruined yaoi for me...). God, I'm weird. Again, if I made any grammar mistakes, please tell me. I read this more than once, but I still probably have grammar mistakes.

Oh, and please R&R... I worked on this for a little over three months, and I'd really appreciate some feedback.