Chapter 1- One Sweet Love

"Greetings, Darth Elevator. How's your day been so far?" Imogen asked cheerfully, while stepping into the elevator. Her eyes habitually followed the man's finger as it pressed the button labeled '28', and the gold-leafed doors slid shut in front of them. Even after four years of Upper East Side living, it still never failed to amaze her that tasks as trivial as elevator-button-pushing were chiseled art forms in that intriguingly unique city.

"It's had its ups and downs," he smiled, winking at the quirky young woman. Imogen could not even begin to recall the large number of times he had used that pun with her, but still she met it with a polite laugh every single time. Being friendly was something she prided herself on, and she was determined not to let the infamous New Yorker attitude corrupt her. "How about yourself, Mrs. Moreno?"

Opening the red folder that was tucked underneath her arm, she eagerly pulled out her freshly penciled sketch and handed it off to the older man. "My day was terrific, actually! I landed a new account. In approximately ten months you should be seeing this fancy schmancy new theater off the end of West 40th—just have to get some pesky zoning issues straightened out, then it will be underway!" Her voice was enthusiastic, as Imogen returned the building design to her folder after he had inspected it.

"Congratulations! It's a very beautiful sketch. I like this one even more than that studio one you did a while back—That was my favorite Moreno-original up until today." The man shifted his gaze down towards the smiling woman and presented her with a well-mannered wink.

"Thanks, Hank! I can't wait to tell Fiona! Is she home yet?"

"Mrs. Coyne graced us with her arrival around seven tonight. She appeared to be very preoccupied this evening, arguing with someone over the phone concerning mislabeled hemlines or something." The bell dinged just as he finished his sentence. Outstretching his white-gloved hand, he held down on the 'open doors' button, to ensure they would not close prior to Imogen having a chance to exit. "Here we are, Mrs. Moreno. Enjoy your night celebrating."

Before stepping forward, she nodded at the kind man. "Will do, Hank. See ya on the flip side!" Her feet guided her out as she entered their floor of the building, fumbling for her keys. Looking up towards the door, she spotted a key already stuck inside of the lock and rolled her eyes. Fiona must be VERY preoccupied today, she smirked to herself. She pulled the abandoned set of keys out of the knob and opened the already unlocked door.

The socialite sat at her expensive walnut desk in the study with her eyes remaining glued on the laptop in front of her as she heard the door open and then close. Her persistent fingers tapped away at the keyboard, sending off yet another distressed email to her newly hired assistant. As she heard light footsteps approaching from their living room, the corner of her mouth lifted into a small smile. Immediately the large condo felt more full, knowing there was one Imogen Moreno now inside of it.

It wasn't long before two warm tan hands reached around and covered Fiona's eyes. "Guess who." Imogen instructed while leaning down to press a light kiss to her wife's cheek.

"Hmm…" Fiona cocked her head to the side slightly. "Eli?" Reaching up, she pulled the petite hands away from her face and swiveled around in her chair. Her happy expression fizzled away in pretend dissatisfaction. "Oh, it's just you."

Offended, the younger woman responded with a dramatic gasp. "Fiona Coyne, you wound me!"

"Kidding! Knew it was you, obvi. Eli's hands are much softer than that," she teased. "Now come here, I've missed you," Fiona pulled Imogen down to match her height so that she could give her a proper welcome-home kiss—the kind of kiss that still left both of them feeling completely enamored, even after nine years of being together.

Very content, the eccentric young woman straightened herself back up and began slowly spinning her wife's chair in circles. Fiona shook her head from side to side in amusement and rolled her eyes, allowing Imogen to continue the spins. "So I have some pretty great news! Want to go out and talk about it over dinner?"

Pressing her heels down firmly to the floor, the socialite halted the chair's motions to prevent getting any dizzier. Letting out a sigh, she looked up at Imogen with burdened eyes. "Immy, I so wish we could, but I really don't have any extra time to go to dinner tonight. I have to finish revising the Fall line if I have any chance of meeting next week's deadline. I'm sorry, hon," she frowned.

"It's okay, I understand," the younger woman assured, though the disappointment was hard to disguise in her voice. "The clothes aren't going to design themselves, right?" With a half-grin, she leaned down once more to give Fiona another quick peck. "Love you. I'll let you get back to it," she murmured into her ear before changing her direction to exit the room.

"Im?"

"Yeah?" Turning around, Imogen again faced the curly brunette.

Fiona stared at her wife for a few seconds, observing the girl's discouraged appearance. If there was one thing she hated doing more than anything in the world, it was disappointing Imogen. "You didn't tell me what your great news was..."

"Oh… it's nothing really," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Mr. Yomako liked my design—he gave me his account."

Jerking her head back and lifting up her arms, Fiona rose from her cushioned chair. "What do you mean 'it's nothing'?" she asked, astonished. "That's amazing news! You've been working on that design for weeks—And of course he loved it, because it's magnificent!" Taking a few steps forward, she enveloped the other girl in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Imogen beamed, relishing in the intoxicating hug. "Thanks," she exhaled. "It just feels so good to have it all finally pay off. Like a huge weight is lifted off of my shoulders."

Pulling away from their embrace, the socialite looked into those deep brown eyes. After all those years, she still didn't have the heart to deny that girl of anything. Twisting around, she moved towards her desk and shut her laptop. "Come on," she said while linking her arm through Imogen's and pulling her out of the study. "Let's go celebrate."

"What about the Fall line?" she questioned, confused, as she was being guided into the living room towards the front door.

"The Fall line will just have to wait…" The socialite grabbed her red blazer from the hook and then turned her attention back to Imogen. "Because tonight I am taking my incredibly talented wife out for a fabulous dinner to celebrate her grande réussite."

"Really?" Imogen squealed as she brought her forehead close to the other girl's. "You, Fiona Coyne, are the best. Like for realsies, the best," she whispered. Her small hand wrapped around the back of her wife's neck, drawing her face in enough for their noses to touch, but not quite letting their lips meet. Her free hand hooked onto Fiona's pant's pocket and gently tugged, bringing her body near to her own. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart pounding inside of her chest, as she stood there feeling entirely content with their charming little life.

Fiona moved her nose, softly letting it graze along the rest of her wife's face. Biting her own lower lip, she could feel the anticipation building inside of her. Patience wearing thin, Fiona let the red blazer fall to the floor and wrapped her arms around Imogen's waist. With tenacity, she crashed their lips together and allowed her lust to take the lead.

"Dinner will still be there in an hour," Imogen noted mid-kiss, as she began to seductively push her wife towards the big grey couch.

"Yes… yes it will." The curly brunette fell into the cushions as she watched the younger woman begin unzipping her own jacket. The zipper got a little stuck due to Imogen yanking it down too rapidly, which caused the younger girl's brows to furrow in frustration as she continued her attempts to remove the garment. Fiona couldn't help but giggle watching her perfectly silly wife. "Hey, Immy?"

Perking up her head, she looked forward into the socialite's strikingly beautiful eyes, continuing to further remove her jacket. "Yeah, Fi?"

Fiona ran her fingers through her long dark hair and tilted her head just a tad, admiring the young woman she had built her life with. "You make me really happy," she smiled.

Briefly, Imogen stopped fiddling with her clothes and let the words warm her heart. She sat down beside her wife and then gently grazed her cheek with her tan fingers. "I'm glad…because you make me happy, too," she breathed.

Feeling the other girl's irresistible touch upon her face, Fiona closed her eyes, cherishing the moment. Her body was shifted further backwards as a pair of warm lips began to trail up her long neck. Completely besotted, there was zero doubt in her mind that celebrating Imogen's success was well worth the all-nighter that she would now have to pull in order to have any chance at all of finishing that chaotic Fall line.