Lena slumped against Emily, causing her to chuckle in response. They were both covered in a fine layer of sweat, breathing heavily. "Well, that was quite a marathon, eh love?"
Emily gave a small sigh of amusement, her eyes reflexively rolling. "Yes, it quite literally was." She reached up to affectionately ruffle Lena's hair, not even caring if it was a little gross and messy. That was love, after all. "And if I'm not mistaken, I won our little bet."
"We finished at the same time!" Her girlfriend pouted dramatically at her. "Doesn't that count for anything?"
"Yes, it makes me feel very proud of you. But as I recall, you were certain that you would be the first one across the finish line, just because you were a sprinter at university. I tried to tell you, no matter how athletic you are, they're two entirely different skill sets! Sprinting is all about that burst of speed right at the beginning. A marathon requires stamina and perseverance."
Lena huffed. "Well I know that now!" She leaned on her a little more, looking like her legs might give out on her at any moment. "So, you won, Miss Smarty Pants. You get to pick what we do tonight. What's the plan?"
Emily had already pretty much assumed that she would win this silly little bet. Even people who trained for years and participated in every marathon they could didn't bother with being the first across the finish line. Lena, for all her pep and energy, wasn't great at maintaining it for long periods of time. She was a woman that existed in bursts, fits, and starts. "We're gonna head home, shower, get all dolled up, and then I thought we might investigate Queen's Row."
She expected to see Lena look excited, but something resembling shock and worry crossed her face instead. "O-Oh. That uh... that club. It's like a cabaret/burlesque kinda thing, yeah? That's kind of a weird choice though, innit."
The hesitation was a surprise. Emily was sure Lena would appreciate the suggestion, as fun-loving as she tended to be. "I mean, I've gone to strip clubs with girlfriends before. This is way more normal than that. They do all kinds of fun stuff – song and dance, performance, racier stuff, but also comedy! It'll be great, I promise. And..." she purred as she lowered her voice. "If you let me have this, then we can shower together when we get home~"
She was definitely certain that would work, but even the promise of a shared shower only barely managed to crack whatever barrier she was trying to put up. "Yeah. Yeah okay."
Things seemed to normalize once they got back to their apartment, and by the time they were under that hot water, whatever was bothering Lena started to melt away. Maybe it really was just nerves, or perhaps it would be something that she would explain more fully in time.
Emily felt absolutely fabulous in one of her favorite red dresses and matching heels, and Lena was dashing as ever in a shirt and tie. They made quite the pair as they caught a cab and headed into the city to check out Queen's Row.
It was a completely unassuming place, looking like pretty much any other club in the city. It had a bright neon sign spelling out the name in glowing letters with a stylized crown on top. The inside was actually quite classy, perhaps to match the regal name, with lots of soft lighting and tasteful gilding and satin and velvet and holy shit Emily felt like she had just found her new favorite place in the whole city. They were greeted by a young asian girl who smiled warmly at them both. "Hello and welcome to Queen's Row, table for tw-" She paused and stared hard right at Lena. "...Tracer?"
"Hah, no this is my girlfriend Lena," Emily replied with a good-natured laugh.
The woman in question cleared her throat softly. "Hey... Diva..."
Emily's head whipped to the side, staring down Lena in disbelief. "Baby? What the hell is going on?"
'Diva' seemed to realize that she was about to get drawn into an awkward conversation and hurried to move away, answering a phone that suspiciously wasn't ringing.
"Alright, alright, look, I... the thing is... See... I-I used to work here. And Tracer was my stage name." Emily must have had one hell of a look on her face because she kept talking, trying to make it all make sense. "I really did do track and field in secondary. But in university, I worked here. Dancing, vaudevillian goofs, slapstick, all kinds of stuff. It was great. Once I joined the RAF though, that was that. I became Cadet Oxton. This was a phase of my life and I loved it. But I swear to you, that's all it was, yeah?"
Emily could hardly believe it. That was what burdened her so much all evening? It seemed so... trivial in her eyes. But... probably best not to make fun of her when she was looking so fragile. "Aww, c'mere Oxton." She drew her into a tight hug, nuzzling her nose tenderly. "I don't mind in the slightest, you goof. I don't mind that you used to work here – hell, I think it's wonderful! And I don't mind if you've got some secrets. Everyone does that too. You know me, I'm a simple kind of gal. All I care about is that you're happy." She drew back one more time to look into her eyes and check that Lena was feeling okay. "We can go somewhere else if you're not feeling it."
"Mm-mm!" Lena shook her head as that glorious smile finally started to show again. "I really should see how all the girls are doing. Um, and uh... one last little surprise, my ex probably still works here, so... that'll be a ball."
"If you'd like, I could seat you somewhere toward the back so she won't notice you?" The girl, Diva, had since rejoined them looking somewhat bashful. "I saw you hugging so I figured the storm was over."
Lena turned around and Emily's arms wrapped around her like she had done so many times. It was such a familiar position. "Nahhh, it's okay D. My lady here wants to see the show, and sitting in the dark corner just won't do. If Widow decides she wants to make a thing of it, that's her business."
The two of them shared a smart salute and Diva led them into the main part of the club to a table near the center of the room, fairly close to the stage. Like a proper charmer, Lena pulled her seat out for her. Just as their hostess disappeared, another woman approached with a smile like a knife. If it were possible to say she was smiling warmly, that... might be the case? It was difficult to tell what the intention was behind a face like that.
"And so the conquering hero returns, with a fair maiden in tow no less. Tracer, my dear, it would be my most divine pleasure to bring you and your lady-friend a drink." Wow, Emily thought Lena had a thick accent. But this woman was more Irish than four leaf clover dipped in Guinness.
Lena chuckled, nervously messing with her hair. "It would also be your job, unless things have drastically changed Moira. This is Emily by the way. Emily, Moira."
Moira gave a low bow, quite regal. "A pleasure, lass. Either Efi or Orisa will be by shortly to take your order. Not positive they were around before you left. They're on drink duty tonight, but if you come some other time, you might be able to catch the twins' double-act, it's a true delight."
Finally the two had their drinks – wine for Emily, a fruity sugary concoction for Lena – and the lights dimmed. It was time for the show to begin. An older egyptian woman in a black dress and an eyepatch emerged through the curtain with a microphone, their MC for the evening. "Good evening, one and all, to Queen's Row. We have a marvelous show for you tonight, as we do every night. Performances to delight, amaze, and if we're lucky, titilate." She winked her good eye and the crowd cheered excitedly. This was punctuated by the opening notes from "Let's Get It On" playing through the speakers, causing the woman to chuckle. "I'm your Mistress of Ceremonies, Ana. And as always, I would be nothing without musical assistance from the incomparable, indescribable, and arguably ineffable... DJ Sombra."
She motioned grandly to a cyberpunk wonderland in the corner where an energetic latina thanked the crowd for their applause by giving an impromptu Melbourne shuffle and a cheery wave. "¡Que huela!"
"And now, for the first performance, a rendition of "I'm Tired" a la Madeline Kahn, with my daughter Fareeha tickling the ivories, and her wife Angela singing. Please welcome them to the stage~" She disappeared, and the curtain opened to reveal a woman who was very clearly related to the MC, wearing a dashing suit, sitting at a baby grand. Fulfilling the trope was a gorgeous blonde reclining across the piano in a sparkly gown.
As promised, they kept it cheesy and bawdy and stupid, and there was a huge emphasis on being tired of men (wink wink nudge nudge say no more guv'nah) and it was alternately funny and sexy.
In-between sets, DJ Sombra would play some music and occasionally dance in various styles, perhaps to amuse herself as much as the audience. Other times she would mess around with the lights to put on cute little colorful shows. She seemed like the perfect kind of background person for this setting.
The next act was an Indian woman, Symmetra, who was dressed in a traditionally styled outfit and a prosthetic arm covered in gorgeous henna designs. Her dance was precise, alluring, intense, and Emily couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene.
Mei-Ling was another pianist, a solo act who did a cover of "The Scientist". She kept it breathy and sweet, and at the end of it Em reached up to find she had a few tears lingering in the corners of her eyes.
Following that was... something quite different. A Russian woman who was almost certainly a body-builder, emerged through the curtain to the hoots and hollers of damn near the entire club. Not like Emily could really blame any of them, especially not when this Zarya lady was wearing little more than shorts and a sports bra. Her act was a confusing but enjoyable mix of lifting impressively heavy objects (and other performers) and delivering a kind of send-up of Yakov Smirnoff-style comedy. Everyone was laughing and cheering, so it hardly mattered if it was a little off the wall.
"And now... the performance that I'm sure many of you have been waiting for with bated breath. They call her Widowmaker. She kills men, then steals their widows away for a night of passion the likes of which they have never before experienced. Watch out, ladies. Perhaps tonight is the night she steals you..." She faded into the shadows, and the curtains opened on a painted night sky.
And then, from above the stage, a woman descended on a pair of long thick strands of silk. Emily had never seen someone do this before, so she was completely drawn in. It didn't exactly hurt that the dancer herself was a beautiful, lithe woman in a simple black bodysuit with a red hourglass design – tattooed and strong and intense. The realization that she was falling slightly in love with the performer was quickly followed up by the realization that this was 'Widow as in Lena's ex Widow' and she felt a whole new level of confused and slightly awful.
Things finally wound down and everyone came back out for a bow. That was when Emily made eye contact with Widow, and the woman actually smiled.
The two of them sat there at their table for a while longer, discussing the show, enjoying their drinks, and very clearly ignoring anything about the subject of Miss Widowmaker or what 'Tracer' did when she worked here. Emily just talked brightly about the married couple's act and how cool the DJ was. Things were winding down and it seemed like it was time to head home. Which was just about the time the African girl they had learned was Orisa came over to them with a bright smile. They hadn't ordered any more drinks, so she wasn't entirely sure what to expect here.
"Tracer? Ah, sorry, that's just what everyone keeps calling you, sorry... Lena, you and your girlfriend have been invited backstage. Widow said she'd like to see you in her dressing room." She shuffled her feet awkwardly, obviously aware that she was bringing a potentially upsetting message. But it had been delivered, and that was the important thing.
Lena looked over at her with her eyebrows arched. "We don't have to."
"Okay. But. Is it bad that I kind of want to?" God, just saying that out loud made her heart beat a little faster. It was a terrible idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea.
Surprisingly, her girlfriend actually began to laugh, then dramatically stood up from the table. "Probably, but you know me. My baby gets what my baby wants, eh?" Lena extended a hand to her, which Emily gratefully took, pulling her to her feet. "Let's go... see Widow!"