Author's Note: Here's the next part! Thank you all so much for reading :) More of Cosima and Delphine's past will slowly be unveiled each chapter (though not necessarily in chronological order). There will be a much more complete picture with time, so be patient. Enjoy!
"Would you just hear me out?"
She rises quickly, scoffing at Sarah's pathetic attempt to justify herself. As much as she loves the girl, she also knows that her friend is a con artist; Sarah will spin a story any way to get what she wants and while it's an admirable trait at times, she won't allow herself to be sucked back into her friend's destructive orbit.
"There's nothing to hear," Cosima spits.
Furious, she tries to place as much distance between them as possible. She storms away from the table, leaving Felix and Sarah to themselves.
"Cos, please! Just hold on!" Sarah cries out.
Cosima shakes her head, continuing on her way to the door.
"It's for Kira!"
She freezes.
Turning around, she sees that Sarah is on her feet now, too. The punk follows after her, stopping a couple of feet away to give the fuming ex-con a little space to process her words.
"Don't you dare bring her into this," Cosima warns with a vicious glare.
Sarah knows she has a weakness for her niece, that she'd never be able to turn her down. Despite being quite gifted in dealing with children, the dreadlocked woman has never wanted any of her own; Kira is the closest thing she'll ever have to a daughter just as Felix and Sarah are the closest thing she'll ever have to a brother and sister. They are her family, for better or worse, and she's never been able to turn her back on family.
"Look, I just need to make enough money so I can get away from Vic and start over, yeah?" Sarah tries to explain, her voice softening.
Cosima is well-acquainted with Vic and his bullshit despite never having actually met the man. Sarah had started dating him a couple of years ago while she was still in prison and she always told herself that had she been out, there's no way she ever would have let that happen. Not only is Vic abusive, but he's as bad an addict as he is a dealer and Sarah knows better than to get herself wrapped up with such volatile people; in their line of work, they have to be careful who they do business with and business with Vic is a powder keg just waiting to explode.
"Here's an idea—dump his loser ass," Cosima shrugs. "Problem solved."
Sarah shakes her head, running a hand through her unruly mane.
"You know it's not that simple with him," she protests. "He's not just gonna let me walk away."
Cosima folds her arms over her chest, expelling an incredulous laugh beneath her breath.
"Gee, you sure know how to pick 'em," she mutters.
Sarah assumes her own glare.
"Oh, that's rich coming from you," she bites.
Cosima frowns.
Ignoring the dig, she tries to approach the situation objectively; Vic is a problem that must be dealt with. It's only a matter of time before Sarah becomes seriously hurt or wrapped up in her boyfriend's shit and finds herself occupying the cell that's probably still warm from her stay. What would happen to Kira then? Yes, Vic must be dealt with, but is this really the best way to go about it?
"Just one job—low risk," Sarah presses, sensing that her friend is beginning to falter in her stance. "I promise."
Cosima sighs, nearly throwing her hands up in exasperation.
"Sarah, even if I wanted to help—which I don't—they're gonna be watching me like a hawk!" she snaps.
How the hell does Sarah even expect to run a job with her? Surely she's aware of the scrutiny that would follow. The number one rule to living a life of crime (successfully) is to avoid the spotlight and steer clear of any heat; immediately partnering up with an ex-con you have previous history with is jumping into the fire head-first.
"I've got it all sorted out," Sarah tries to reassure her. "I've got someone on the inside."
"Inside of what?"
"This'll be the easiest job we've ever run," Sarah deflects her question. "Once it's done, we'll be off to South America before anyone can put two and two together."
Cosima sighs again.
"And what if I don't wanna dip to South America?"
Sarah pauses, arching a brow.
"Oh, come on. You really wanna stay here? And what—work for Bobby forever?" she challenges.
Cosima takes a step closer, placing a hand on Sarah's arm.
"I'm not running, Sarah," she repeats herself. "It's no way to live."
Sarah frowns, her expression shifting completely.
"You know, you were so ready to dump all of us and run off with Delphine," she argues. "You'd do it for that lying bitch but you wouldn't do it for your own bloody family?"
"That's not what this is about and you know it," Cosima warns.
"Then what is it about? Cause honestly, Cos—what's the plan here? If you're not gonna go back to school and become some famous scientist, what's the endgame?"
Sarah's barrage catches her off guard.
"The way I see it, we're all you've got," she continues. "Why do you wanna waste any more time in this shite hole? You just spent five years in a fucking cell. Let's go drink coconuts on a beach somewhere and forget that any of this ever happened."
Drinking coconuts on a secluded beach sounds good… too good. While a part of her is desperate to shed the last five years like an old layer of skin, she knows better. How the hell could she possibly forget? After everything she's been through, better or worse, how could she try to deny it now? Part of growing as a human being means facing your problems head-on. If she were to run away with Sarah and Felix and Kira, how would she be fixing any of her problems?
"I can't forget," she admits, her voice low.
"Sure you can—"
"No, I can't!" she snaps. "Last I checked, I was the one doing time—not you. You have no idea what it's like."
There's venom in her voice and perhaps she's being a bit too harsh with the Brit, but she needs Sarah to understand that this is something she can't just walk away from; even if the last five years have felt like some awful nightmare, she can't magically wake up and pretend that they never happened.
This is her life.
This is her reality now.
"I-I'm sorry, Cos," Sarah apologizes, sensing the turmoil burning within her friend. "I didn't mean to—"
"Look, can I just enjoy my first twenty-four hours of freedom? I haven't even had a chance to wash that place off me yet," Cosima pleads. "I just wanna get drunk with my friends and eat a whole pint of Ben and Jerry's and catch up on the Marvel Universe that I've missed out on. Can't things just be easy for one fucking night?"
"I can do you one better."
Both women turn to acknowledge Felix who's finally decided to join the conversation. He twirls a perfectly rolled joint in his fingers, dangling it in front of Cosima to distract her from her worries.
"Felix, you are a God," she exclaims, grabbing the joint from his hand.
"So I've been told."
She never considered herself a true stoner until she was forced to survive without it for five years. When she was younger, smoking pot had been a means of taking the edge off after a long day or loosening her up if she found herself too tense. She didn't realize how much she had come to rely on it until she had lost that privilege; every day in prison was long and tense and without her go-to relief, she was forced to confront all the anxieties she held at bay.
Right now, this joint is her entire fucking life.
"That's what you need!" Sarah proclaims, grabbing her shoulder and giving her a rough shake. "A spliff and a shag!"
"Huh?"
"Ooh, Sarah's right," Felix nods. "You've been locked up a long time, darling. Let's find you something tasty to rub up against."
Cosima laughs.
"This is all I need right now, thanks," she dismisses them, placing the joint between her lips.
"That's not true," Felix argues "God, if I had to spend five years completely celibate, I think I'd explode."
"Well. There are ways to get by," she shrugs.
Sarah narrows her eyes, inspecting her friend closely. It only takes a few seconds for the lightbulb in her head to flash on, illuminating her.
"Hold on a second—did you have yourself a prison girlfriend?" she asks.
Cosima freezes, a deer caught in the headlights.
Felix gapes.
"You totally did!" he nearly jumps, overcome with excitement. "What did she look like? Was she, like, your prison mum? Or were you the mum? Honestly, I can't see you as—"
"Would you two knock it off?" Cosima laughs, giving them both a shove for good measure.
"Oi! Bobby!" Sarah calls out.
The bartender looks up from the bar for a second, her eyes landing on the three.
"Cosima had a prison girlfriend!" Sarah shouts.
The entire bar stops, all of the patrons fixing their gaze on the loud group. Cosima groans as she's met with a few cheers and hollers from gawking men who now seem more invested in her love life than she's been in years.
Bobby merely shrugs.
"Girl's gotta eat," she remarks.
Sarah and Felix erupt into a fit of laughter and Cosima smiles.
Things are finally starting to feel like they did before and she wonders if maybe it is possible to find her way back—to find a way to accept these last five years without letting them consume and define her.
Maybe Sarah does have a point.
This family that they've made for each other is everything; it's all any of them have now and they have to preserve it, no matter what the cost. If this is how she can start over while still holding onto the people she loves the most, then maybe she's obligated to do her part.
Maybe.
But she doesn't want to think about that right now.
"I'm going out for a smoke," Cosima laughs, leaving the two to their juvenile ways.
Right now, she could use a little bit of privacy and a whole lot of THC in her system to help her process the pile of shit that's just been dumped into her lap. She pushes through the door and glances around for someone with a lighter, relieved to find a slightly older gentleman smoking a cigarette a few feet from the door. She bums a light, inhaling her first drag as deeply as her lungs will allow and holding it in until she feels that familiar burn.
"Looks like your night's just getting started."
She exhales slowly, lashes fluttering before she pries her eyes open again to match a face to the voice. The woman standing before her is a stranger—blue eyes peer back at her, perfectly complimenting the flowing blonde locks that cascade down her head, framing her delicate features.
"Yeah. I guess," she nods, staring perhaps a bit too intently at the visitor.
She knows she should be past it—that the very sight flowing, golden curls shouldn't evoke such a visceral response—but she can't control it.
It's not her, she tells herself.
Delphine is gone—has been gone for a long time.
It's not her.
This woman, with her easy smile and warm gaze, is a completely different person. She's probably kind, probably has a decent job and a loving family and certainly no daddy issues or death drive.
Delphine has better hair.
"Do you… want some?" Cosima offers.
The blonde's smile grows.
"Sure."
Cosima returns her smile, passing the joint to her new friend. The woman readily accepts it, bringing the joint to her lips and inhaling.
"I'm Casey," she introduces herself.
"Cosima."
The two shake hands and Casey passes the joint back. Cosima takes another hit, trying to find the courage to strike up a more substantial conversation. It shouldn't be this hard to flirt with a pretty girl; she never really had a problem with it before, but she can't reign in her thoughts long enough to think of something clever to say.
"I haven't seen you around here before," Casey speaks, meeting her half way. "You come here often?"
"Used to," Cosima shrugs. "I… went away for a while, but now I'm back. I was just having a few drinks with some friends to celebrate my triumphant return."
Casey chuckles.
She reaches into her bra, retrieving a flask.
"Well, to your return then," she toasts, raising the flask before taking a swig.
She passes it to Cosima who follows suit.
Maybe when she has a few more drinks in her and finishes this joint, she'll be a little more at ease. She thinks about Sarah and Felix's teasing before and wonders if they're right; does she need to get laid? She doesn't feel starved for intimacy, but maybe a quick night of passion will help her push the past as far back as she can and forget about Delphine altogether.
"So, where are you coming from?" Casey pries.
Cosima takes another swig from the flask before passing it back to Casey and chasing with another toke.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I just got out of prison?"
Casey freezes, giving her a once over. Cosima merely smiles, wriggling her eyebrows as the blonde assesses her.
"No fucking way," Casey nearly laughs. "You don't look like an ex-con. You look too…"
She stops herself, unable to find the right words.
"I get it," Cosima joins in the laughter. "I'm too big of a dork to be a hardened criminal, right?"
Casey shakes her head.
"I was gonna say "cute," but dork works just fine."
The blonde tries to keep the conversation light and playful but her words strike a chord somewhere deep within Cosima. Her body tenses, her thoughts transporting her to place much farther back than she cares to visit.
"You wanna finish our talk inside? I'll buy you a celebratory drink," Casey offers.
She opens her mouth to speak.
Yes.
One word.
One stupid, simple word.
All she has to do is utter it—make some sort of noise of confirmation—and she can begin to forget all about Delphine and her stupid hair and her ridiculous accent and the way that the moles speckled all over her back form a multitude of constellations that she's traced too many times to count.
"Actually… as much as I'd love that, I've gotta jet."
Coward.
Casey deflates, though she masks her disappoint well.
"Oh. Okay. Maybe some other time then," she nods.
Cosima bows her head, unable to look her in the eyes.
"Yeah. Maybe."
She lingers by the door as Casey disappears inside, leaving her alone with nothing but a roach, her treacherous thoughts and the rapidly descending night for company.
She's helped Sarah run a few jobs before, but nothing of this scale—nothing this dangerous.
Sarah did what she had to do to get by which is why she never really thought twice about helping her. But Delphine? Delphine has money—lots of it. Delphine doesn't need to resort to such a lifestyle to support herself.
Even still, she thrives on it.
Delphine is a completely different creature. She's driven and ambitious. The brunette often thinks her lover is far too intelligent to lead a life of crime, that she could just as easily become a doctor or a lawyer and live a comfortable, successful life.
But this isn't about comfort with Delphine.
There's a larger force at play—something Cosima can't quite wrap her head around that seems to dig at the French girl, leaving her raw. Delphine could take the easy way out, could go to school and make all the right moves and end up with a simple, quiet life, but she refuses. It's almost like she insists on raging through life, living like a supernova before she inevitably explodes.
Or maybe she won't.
Delphine is smart—the smartest person Cosima's ever crossed paths with. Maybe she is good enough to elude the law for the rest of her life and dodge any bullets that may come her way. If anyone can defy the odds, she's certain that it's the blonde.
Or maybe she's already fallen.
Her stomach is trapped in a continuous loop of somersaults, her leg bouncing impatiently as her eyes burn a hole through the door, watching the doorknob for any sign of movement. Until she sees the blonde walk across the threshold unscathed, the paranoia will not subside.
She had been reluctant when Delphine had asked for her help, but how could she say no? Perhaps she never should have brought up her prowess in the first place, but as soon as the blonde became aware of her unique skill set, she seemed even more enthralled by the strange little geek.
"Just one job—low risk," Delphine had nearly begged her one night. "I promise."
"Look, I just help Sarah here and there when she needs it. I'm not, like, a pro or anything," Cosima had tried to explain. "Not that I'm judging you, but this kinda thing really isn't in my wheelhouse and I really don't want it coming back on me later."
She somehow found herself holed up in her dorm room, hunched over her laptop at her desk as she typed away furiously, monitoring the situation. All Delphine was asking for was a way in—a way to disable the alarms so she could go about her business. Even though the security system was a fairly simple one, she began to second guess herself and let the paranoia consume her with each minute that passed without a word from Delphine.
What if she had gotten it wrong?
What if she screwed something up and now Delphine was in the back of a squad car on her way to jail?
"Shit," she mutters beneath her breath. "Shit, shit, shit!"
This was her fault.
She should have tried harder to talk her out of it.
She hadn't heard any unusual activity on the police scanner she was monitoring that Delphine had leant her and the alarm system was still disabled from what she could see, so what's taking Delphine so long? She had said she'd check in in a couple of hours but it's been nearly three and she can only assume the worst at this point.
That is, until the door finally swings open and she's greeted by a flash of golden curls.
"Holy shit! It actually worked!" she exclaims as she leaps from her seat, completely dumbfounded. "It worked and you're here and everything's fine!"
Delphine grins, closing the door behind her and stalking over to Cosima. She grabs Cosima's face in her hands and fuses their lips together with a force that nearly knocks the dreadlocked girl off her feet.
"Of course it worked," Delphine whispers, brushing their noses together. "You're brilliant."
She's never really considered herself to be a particularly modest person, but for some reason, whenever Delphine showers her with praise and compliments, she finds herself transforming into a bashful child that's unable to properly accept them.
"Well, I-I don't know about that, but—"
Delphine silences her with another kiss.
"You're a genius, Cosima," she reassures her.
It's strange.
She's never really felt this thrill when she helps Sarah, but her heart is slamming in her chest and she feels a potent mix of adrenaline and infatuation. Maybe this is why Bonnie and Clyde ran wild through a crippled country; she feels young and powerful and completely untouchable in the moment.
She sighs when she feels Delphine's fingers tease at the hem of her tank top.
"Take this off," the blonde expels, her command a breathy whisper.
Cosima grins.
"Yes ma'am."
Without a second to spare, she peels the top over her and tosses it aside, pausing only when she notices the amused expression upon the French girl's face.
"What?"
Delphine shakes her head, laughing.
"You're such a dork," she teases.
"Gee, you really know how to rev a girl's engine, don't you?" the student jabs, tongue peeking out from behind a row of white teeth.
Cosima tugs at the belt loops on Delphine's jeans, pulling her girlfriend in even closer until their foreheads are pressed together. The blonde licks her lips—a gesture which Cosima is acutely aware of.
"Don't worry. You're a cute dork," Delphine clarifies, the corners of her lips twitching into a coy smile.
"That's why you like me."
"Among other things."
They undress each other in a frenzy, desperate for skin. A part of her wishes they were back at Delphine's condo where they have a much larger bed at their disposal, but Delphine had insisted upon meeting here and so they have to make due with the uncomfortable twin mattress. It takes them a few minutes to adjust to the limited space, but once they do, Delphine presses Cosima beneath her, working her way down the smaller girl's body until her face is buried in the generous heat she finds between her lover's legs.
Most of the time, Cosima finds herself wondering just what's going on inside the young delinquent's head. While they do share much in common, there is still so much Delphine doesn't share with her and she finds herself devoting entirely too much time to deciphering the many different faces of Delphine Cormier.
Yes.
Delphine is a total enigma—except when they're making love.
There is never an illusion shielding the blonde from her gaze, no possible ulterior motives transpiring behind her eyes when she looks down at Cosima, their bodies writhing together in blissful ecstasy. This is the one time Cosima is certain that the two exist on the same plane—that Delphine's mind is not such a distant and impenetrable thing; they fuck like it's their last day to live, like nothing else exists for them outside of each other.
When they're finished, Delphine rests between Cosima's legs, her head resting upon the fleshy cushion of Cosima's thigh. Cosima smiles sheepishly, reaching down to run her hand through wild locks, fingers toying with the golden curls.
They stay like that, silent, for many minutes.
"This is so perfect," Delphine sighs, finally breaking their easy silence as she looks up at Cosima with a smile.
"Yeah," Cosima agrees, beaming back down at her.
She's been in relationships before, she's had random flings before, but nothing that's ever felt quite like this; she feels electric, like she's experiencing the world in a whole new way. All of her past partners were companions in the simplest sense of the word—they enjoyed each other, killed time together, but there was never anything deep or substantial about any of them. She'd never really wanted anything deeper and certainly hadn't been looking for it that night when she'd wandered out with Sarah to grab a few drinks and shoot a few games of pool.
And yet, here she is—entwined in bed with this golden goddess—with this girl who's challenged everything she thought she knew about herself. She never could have pictured herself in this position but there's something about all of this that feels strangely… right. She knows Delphine is one giant puzzle she may never be able to piece together fully, but despite the uncertainty of it all, it somehow makes sense.
"You know, I never wanted a partner. I never thought I needed one," Delphine begins, absently tracing the jut of Cosima's hipbone. "But the two of us? There's nothing we can't do. We could take this city in a heartbeat."
Cosima tenses.
Partner?
"Hey now," she chuckles nervously. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."
Sensing her lover's uncertainty, Delphine shifts until she's sitting up, urging Cosima to do the same. She gives Cosima a very serious look, reaching for her hand and tangling their fingers together.
"I know you feel it, too."
What is she supposed to say?
Delphine is right—she does feel it—but even still, that doesn't mean she wants to jump head-first into whatever world Delphine's been inhabiting for God knows how long. Her mother used to say that being in a successful relationship meant accepting everything about your partner—even the parts you aren't necessarily thrilled about—and being willing to walk side-by-side through each other's bullshit; if you could do that, then you could work through anything.
But could she really do that?
"This… this is good, Cosima," Delphine tells her, bringing Cosima's open palm to her lips to plant a lingering kiss.
She stares into pools of deep hazel that beg her to trust—to dive in with abandon and commend herself fully to whatever awaits them at the bottom. She chews anxiously on her bottom lip, unsure of what she should make of such a request; she's always been the kind of girl who's had her feet fixed firmly to the ground and she wonders if she should stick to what she knows or risk taking the plunge.
"I-I don't know, Delphine," she meekly protests. "You said it was just gonna be one job. I don't think I—"
She's interrupted by soft, consoling lips that put her mind at ease.
"Okay," Delphine agrees.
Cosima blinks a few times, confused by how easily her lover has conceded. She learned the very first night they met that Delphine always gets her way and she expected far more resistance than what she's currently being met with.
No.
Delphine smiles at her, eyes soft and inviting, not a trace of frustration or disappointment anywhere upon her face.
"I promise that I'll never make you do anything you're not comfortable doing," Delphine tells her.
"Seriously?"
Delphine laughs, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth.
"What? Did you think I'd force you into something?"
Cosima finds her smile again.
"No, no. Not at all. I just thought—well, you said you always get your way. I figured you wouldn't budge so easily," she shrugs.
Delphine surges forward, the suddenness in her movements forcing Cosima back down until she's flat against the mattress again with the blonde's arms pressed on either side of her head, boxing her in. Delphine gazes down at her, face veiled with tousled locks but her smirk still very visible. Cosima's smile only grows, especially when Delphine leans in, pressing their foreheads together.
"I would love to work with you, Cosima," she admits. "You're the only person I've ever met who I'd want to share this part of my life with. You're the only person I trust enough."
"Really?"
The blonde caresses her face gently, her thumb tracing the ridge of her brow, the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her lips.
"I just want you to be happy. I want to take care of you. That's all."