We won't live too long
So let's love for one song
~In the Valley Below
The nightclub is packed by the time Delphine Cormier arrives past the witching hour. It's most definitely not her scene, what with the undulating masses, the seizure-inducing strobe lights, and the driving bass of techno music that punishes her eardrums and booms against her chest. No one would ever notice her or suspect anything in this type of madness. It's the perfect location for a drop.
She moves around the darkened club, searching for her contact amid the crush of people, absentmindedly fingering the thumb drive in the front pocket of her black skinny jeans. On it are the physical locations of every DYAD laboratory that has ever worked on Project LEDA, even those tangentially related via the system of compartmentalization that the conglomerate perfected over the years. There are those who would kill for the information. Have killed for it. Have even died for it. But Delphine is there to make sure that it falls into the right hands. So that they could end this nightmare once and for all.
Delphine squeezes through several clusters of sweaty bodies before she spots her, sitting on a stool amid the crowded bar. Her wavy hair looks almost black and is pulled into a loose ponytail. Heart leaping into her throat, Delphine's first instinct is to rush to the other woman and pull her into her arms. Mission be damned. That's always Delphine's first instinct whenever she sees Cosima after several days and weeks away, fulfilling her duties as one of Marion Bowles's ghosts. It will probably always be her reaction. But she's learned to curb that initial desire, as such eagerness has burned her before in the past.
The woman at the bar lifts a glass of brown liquor to her lips, and Delphine pauses. That's not Cosima, she thinks. Or is it? She can never be sure, even after all this time. Sensing her stare, the woman turns her head and catches Delphine stare. She outright scowls, deeply, and rolls her eyes, as if to say, I should have fucking known. Delphine can practically hear Sarah Manning's exasperated drawl. Still, Sarah nods her head to the dance floor where her real target was, presumably, waiting. It's a smart move by the genetic identicals, Delphine observes. There's confusion, and thus safety, in numbers.
Thankful that she stopped herself from kissing the wrong person (again), Delphine tentatively wades into the frantic horde, all too eager to slap away the wandering hands that seem to grope at her randomly. Delphine believes she catches a glimpse of Cosima from the corner of her eye. Holding her breath, she moves in that direction.
This time the dark-haired woman has a beanie covering the crown of her head and is dancing, if it can even be called that, with a slinky man Delphine recognizes immediately as Felix. She moves much too self-consciously and stiffly to be Cosima, with as little movement as possible, and awkwardly pats Felix's wiggling derriere as he shakes it back into her.
Alison, Delphine realizes with a long exhale and turns her attention elsewhere. Just how many of them are here tonight?
She continues wandering, getting lost in the continual bump and grind, thankful she decided to wear only a plain white tank top given that she's sure the room temperature is well over 100 degrees. And just when she feels she might pass out from the suffocating body heat of the surrounding dancers and the overwhelming thump of the music, a pair of strong hands grips her on the shoulders and spins her around,.
She comes face to face with a familiar pair of caramel-brown orbs.
Her heart rate skyrockets and she's about to lean in when she feels fingers digging slightly into her flesh to stop her. It's then that Delphine realizes that the woman's eyes are a little too wild, a little too fierce, to be the ones she's been yearning to see. Helena. The Ukranian clone Delphine had bonded with and helped save a few years ago gives her a mischievous smirk before turning her again abruptly and shoving her none-too-gently in a different direction all together.
It's then that she finally… finally… sees her.
Cosima.
Nothing else matters. Not the people. Not the noise. Not the nauseatingly pungent mix of perfume, cologne, and sweat. It all fades into the background as time stills and all Delphine can see through tunneled vision is Cosima.
Her light.
Her love.
She moves like a wave, twisting and rolling, fluid and smooth. Blood simmering with desire, Delphine's heart pounds, perhaps even harder than the earsplitting song blasting from the club's speakers. She drinks in Cosima: hair braided back in cornrows along her skull, reminiscent of the dreadlocks she wore when they had first met; a dress so tight it might as well have been painted in burgundy along the soft swells of her curves.
Delphine moves on autopilot toward the woman who means everything to her. Will always mean everything to her. But her euphoria is short-lived when she notices the two figures who converge on Cosima and essentially sandwich her between them. The dark-haired man behind her is harmless, Delphine knows—Tony's her brother after all. But the blonde whose back is pressed up against Cosima's front… Shay… is an entirely different story.
Logically, Delphine knows Cosima and Shay are just friends. Nothing more. She's acknowledged it. Accepted it. But nevertheless, the sight of them grinding together… it causes jealousy to rip through her and settle in her stomach, sour and curdling.
She slinks toward them like a panther, positioning herself behind Tony so she can place a subtle hand on his shoulder. His head whips toward her and he smiles wolfishly when he realizes who it is. Cosima doesn't even notice when he releases her and moves to the side.
Wasting no time in taking his place, Delphine splays her long fingers across Cosima's waist. In one swift motion, she tugs her backward and flush up against her front, feeling much too pleased, perhaps even excessively so, at pulling her away from Shay. Delphine trails open-mouthed kisses down the side of Cosima's throat, the sheen of salt sharp against her taste buds. Cosima gasps and snaps her head toward her, surprise dilating her pupils, and then flashes her a toothy grin not unlike the one her brother just gave her. The brunette snakes an arm up and behind her, cradling the back of Delphine's skull. Cosima pulls her down and fuses their mouths together.
Sparks flicker and burst behind Delphine's eyelids at the feel of Cosima's soft but insistent lips, the graze of her teeth, and the slide of her tongue. She's floating in the sensation and barely registers Shay's distant whisper in her ear, "Get her, Tiger," and the slap on her back side. Delphine is aware of only Cosima, who breaks their kiss and whirls around, her body still gyrating in sync with the rhythm.
And Cosima's hands are everywhere, palms ghosting across Delphine's shoulders, fingernails scraping down her spine, fingers dipping and curling in the pockets of her tight jeans. As she relieves Delphine of the thumb drive, she nuzzles the crook of the blonde's neck before nipping and suckling at her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath her skin. Cosima feels incredible and Delphine's blood steams and boils over with want. She buries her fingers in Cosima's hair and roughly seizes her lips again, siphoning all the air from her lungs.
The music surrounding them slows to a more sensual rhythm. In the back of Delphine's mine, she knows the mission is complete. Knows that she should leave because Cosima's father would have a coronary if he got wind of what she was doing with his daughter.
She knows only too well that they're playing with fire the longer they stay together.
It takes all of her will power to pull away only a fraction of an inch, but Cosima tightens her grip, holding her firmly in place.
"Not yet," Cosima breathes out. "One more song."
She rests their heads together briefly, swaying their bodies gently, before kissing her again so softly and so sweetly that it leaves the center of Delphine's heart swollen and aching. They part at the end of the song, with Cosima brushing Delphine's three favorite words against her ear with her lips. Words that Delphine murmurs back to the brunette in her native tongue.
Delphine doesn't turn around when she leaves. Because if she does, she'll never have the strength to exit the club alone. The late night air instantly chills the sweat on her skin the moment she sets foot outside. She sucks in a deep breath, hoping it'll help cool her singed nerve endings.
She walks briskly down a dimly lit sidewalk, the heels of her boots clacking sharply against the concrete, until she feels something poking at her thigh. Pausing, she slips her fingers down her pocket to encounter a hard piece of plastic, thin, rectangular in shape. She pulls it out. A hotel key card, with a room number etched on the back in a certain scientist's unmistakable scrawl.
Playing with fire.
She smiles to herself and continues into the darkness, already anticipating the heat that will warm her through the night and well into morning.
A/N: To show my deep appreciation for the intrepid beta readers who kindly offered to pour over my fics, I thought I'd write them some drabbles/ficlets.
Here's the first one, dedicated to the music-loving twig-height! When we first started talking, she mentioned that she loved In the Valley Below's "Peaches." And this fic idea started formulating in my mind, which turned into not only an opportunity to continue the After Everything alternate future 'verse, but to also work out more **SPOILER ALERT** Shay feelings. haha Hope you enjoyed it!
(P.S. For anyone who might be wondering, I'm nearly done with the next chapter of 03:24:21. I hope to send it to the beta readers today!)