Title: All Wet
Author: Misty Flores
Summary: Joanne Jefferson's defined, in control life is turned upside down when she comes across one Maureen Johnson. PRE-RENT
Rating: M for adult situations between two females
Notes:-)
--
Chapter 14.
They say that I'm cool
They tell me I'm strong
Everyone says it's better now that you're gone
So how come everything feels wrong?
-- 'Everything Feels Wrong', by Bree Sharpe
Joanne was a realist. Maureen hadn't been her whole life, she had been a flash in the pan, and Joanne had known that. She had been prepared for it.
Her scent lingered in Joanne's sheets, so she washed them. Maureen's red lipstick stained three of her coffee cups, and so she washed those too.
Left behind was Maureen's bra, discovered when Joanne stepped into her shower to begin her day, hanging like a black spider on her towel rack.
Coming forward to take it delicately in her fingers, Joanne fingered the fragile fabric and when the question flitted into her mind: if Maureen had left it behind on purpose, she pushed it away.
Instead she stared hard at it as if she could picture Maureen wearing it.
A moment of weakness, and she turned back around, folding it into a neat little pile and putting it in the back of her underwear drawer, and went on with her day.
--
The elevators opened with a swish, and still Joanne lingered, taking a moment to inhale, ready to take her life back.
Fingers tightening around the handle of her briefcase, she moved forward on her heels, posture perfect, eyes straight ahead, heading without distraction to her office, until she spotted Nicky's door open.
Hesitated, Joanne slowed, and when Nicky caught her attention, rising from his desk, her eyes narrowed automatically. For once, she didn't out run him.
"Joanne!" Grinning, his was voice was too loud, as if welcoming all listeners into their conversation. "Glad to see you're feeling better."
"Yes," she agreed stiffly. "At least there's a cure for what I have."
That was enough to give him pause, smile faltering slightly mid-nod. "Pardon?"
"Nicky," she began, stepping forward, glancing first at the floor and then at him. "Do you have a problem with me handling the Suddelson case?"
"What would give you that impression, Joanne?"
"The fact that you've resorted to trash talking me like this is some sort of school playground," Joanne answered, arms crossed in front of her, eyes dark and glare even.
She didn't expect him to admit to it, and so when he crossed his arms, mimicked her pose, and simply stared her down, she couldn't help but smile.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered.
Chest rising in a disbelieving snort, Joanne stepped away, turning back in the direction of her office. "Jealous, Nicky?" she asked. His expression tightened in response.
She continued her walk, and released the breath she didn't know she had been holding, as she approached Steven.
"Get Antonia and Hector Suddelson on the phone," she said without waiting for a proper greeting. "I want to set up a meeting today as soon as possible."
"But you've got your interviews with the Sanchez's today," he said, getting up and following her into her office. "Remember? Over in the Village?"
Briefcase falling onto her desk with a clap, Joanne's hand lingered on the finished polish.
The Village.
"Cancel it," she said crisply. "I've got too much on my plate right now to take on another pro bono client."
Steven's eyes widened, obviously surprised. "But Joanne."
"Call them and refer them to Cindy Waters," she said, "She owes me a favor."
"That's my Jefferson." It was Mr. Finch in the doorway, stepping into her office, obviously pleased. "Staying on focus."
"Mr. Finch," she said, nodding politely, dismissing Stephen with a look. "How are you?"
"Getting better by the second," he answered. "I have to be honest, Jefferson, I was worried about you."
A wave of irritation rankled it's way up her spine, but Joanne kept her face carefully closed, remained standing. "You don't have to worry about me, sir."
He smiled. "Chip off the ole' block, right Jefferson?"
"Absolutely."
He pointed his finger at her, a smile on his face, and Joanne remained stiff as he walked away.
The door closed, and she closed her eyes, rubbed at her chest and deliberately didn't think about Maureen.
Still, when Steven came in a few seconds later with her coffee, Joanne opened her eyes and waved him off, too nauseous to even attempt to drink the bitter liquid.
--
Red was Antonia's color, and she wore it like royalty. The dress she had chosen clung to her slender, athletic frame, teeny spaghetti straps accenting the lean lines of the collar bone and the swanline delicacy of her neck.
Her make up was subtle, and this evening, her hair was blow dried straight. She was polite and courteous to the waiter, perfectly at ease as she perused the wine list. She chose something moderately priced with a fruity flavor, and she tilted the champagne glass into her nose, eyelids fluttering as she inspected the quality.
Finger tilted against her temple, Joanne found herself staring, curiously numb, as if she were watching a beautiful actress in a movie.
Bringing down her wine glass, Antonia caught her gaze, and her mouth tilted up into an uncertain smile.
"What?"
It was a different Joanne that sat at the dinner, almost as if something inside of her had closed off. She could hear herself saying the words, playing the part, like this was some sort of game.
"I'm wondering what a beautiful woman like you is doing in a place like this with someone like me."
Perfectly arched eyebrows rose into the tanned forehead, and Antonia tilted her head in response. "Don't tell me you're insecure."
"Not in the slightest," Joanne agreed, a grin on her face. "But your brother talked to me."
Visibly stilling, Antonia's tongue darted out to swipe across her top lip before bringing down her shoulders, releasing the glass of wine to lean back in her chair. "I assume it wasn't about the case. It never is. He could care less."
"He has his reasons," Joanne answered, and Antonio rolled her eyes in response. "Actually, he inferred that you and I were headed for something of a more intimate nature. I don't know if he was more worried about me or you."
Dark eyes met with hers, darkening with intensity. "I can take care of myself," Antonia answered, a tinge of sharpness invading her tone.
"So I gathered." The wine Antonia had chosen was a good one, and Joanne let it swirl into her mouth, felt the hint of cherry, an earthy tone.
"… And…" Antonia fingered the stem of her glass. "I don't think I've really been subtle about what I want." Hazel orbs glanced up suddenly, locked with hers intensely. "I'm not afraid of trying new things, Joanne. If I want something, I go for it."
"And now you want me."
"Desperately." A phantom smirk floated on Joanne's face, because that attitude reminded her of someone else. The thought both intrigued and repulsed her. "So… I guess the real question remains: what are your intentions?"
Her intentions. Joanne wondered how honest she should be, sitting there talking about her next relationship like they were negotiating a contract.
It was almost refreshing, when she thought about it. A stark contrast to her most recent lover, who came to her with no guarantees, no commitments, nothing but the pure exhilaration followed by the hard crash of reality.
"My intensions are simple," she said finally, pushing aside the stem of her wine glass and leaning forward. "I'm attracted to you." Her companion's mouth twitched. "I intend on seducing you, and if that leads to a relationship, I'm open to it. However, if that's going to upset the case, or our working relationship…"
Antonia seemed to consider that, nodding and visibly swallowing. "It's a gamble."
"Yes."
Silence fell over the table, and in that moment, there was a flash, when brunette hair went from straight to curly, and hazel eyes were replaced by brown.
"Your cousin." Blinking, Joanne rediscovered Antonia, teeth digging oddly into her lower lip. "She's… she's better?"
"Better?"
"As in gone."
The statement hit her harder than she wanted to admit, and she blew out her breath slowly, eyes on the rich wine Antonia had chosen.
"She's gone," she confirmed. "She's all better, and I won't be seeing her for a while."
The words left her mouth, and in them, came their reality.
"Good." Settling back, Antonia was sultry, sexy and desirable. "Then I want you to make love to me."
The urge to bury herself in a woman's body was undeniable, and so Joanne smiled, and poured another glass of wine.
--
"So tell me the truth," Maureen asked, one day, out of the blue, while they were on the subway, rocking back and forth, on the way to her performance space. "The week after I left: What did you do?"
Buried in her long trenchcoat, Joanne reached up and readjusted her tie, eyebrow arching as across from her, her girlfriend nudged her toe against her Doc Martins. "What do you mean?" she asked, nudging back, against Maureen's harsher, more stylish boots. Her lover grinned, white teeth against red lipstick, and settled her palms against the seats beside her, teetering playfully. "You know," she said, eyes with hers connecting across the subway. "Did you miss me?" Joanne was never quite sure why Maureen needed the validation she continued to ask for. Honestly, she would have preferred to not bring up the time after Maureen left, after their first weekend together, because to remember it would mean to remember ALL of it, and sometimes, it still pissed her off. To remember just how manipulative Maureen could be when she wanted something badly enough. "Pookie?" Sighing, Joanne straightened, and shrugged. "I went to work. I was myself again." Snapping her gum loudly, something she knew Joanne hated, Maureen crossed her arms and slumped in her seat, eyes rolling heavenwards. "That's not what I asked." Shoving cold hands into her pockets, she studied the contrast of the woman across from her, the carefully applied make up, the thick curly hair, the striking features that someone would even say might be TOO severe, but always beautiful. "Did you miss me?" she asked, so quiet and unexpected it even startled her. Maureen's brow furrowed, her mouth opening before snapping closed to chew on her gum. There was a snort, an exhalation, and a crossing of her arms. That was her answer. It was nothing, and frustrated, Joanne looked down the nearly empty subway car, at the a business man sitting across from a homeless man, the two staring wearily at each other like they were old friends. Sudden warmth against her alerted her to her lover, as Maureen settled in beside her, purposely pulling open Joanne's trenchcoat with her gloved fingers. Used to this, Joanne let it open, as Maureen smiled triumphantly when Joanne held the lapel of her coat spread out, allowing her lover to slip into the warm spot between the outer coat and her already warm torso. Cold fingers slipped underneath her blazer, and Joanne turned her head, staring down at the figure cuddled against her as Joanne's coat came in around her, firmly cocooning her in. Maureen had her chin on her shoulder, staring up at her with unspoken adoration. "Of course I missed you," Maureen answered, brushing a kiss against Joanne's chin. "I came back, didn't I?" Joanne glanced down at the soft brown eyes, and leaned down, brushing her lips softly. "Yes, you did." "Did you miss me?" Joanne smiled privately. Maureen was relentless. Thumb tracing against her forehead, Joanne finally stopped dodging the question. "Yes, baby. I missed you." Maureen smiled, and Joanne sighed. "Everything felt wrong when you weren't with me." Maureen grinned, settling against her almost smugly. "I knew it." Yes, she did. Joanne was entirely too predictable when it came to Maureen. "Joanne?" "Yeah, honey?" "Everything felt wrong for me too." "I knew it," she replied dryly. Maureen pinched her in response. --
"So why are we here?"
Joanne smiled, tightening her hold on the beautiful woman at her side, fully aware of the attention Antonia was getting. It amused her, but Antonia seemed almost nervous, curling into her side, behind her, not at all like Maureen, who pushed her way through, clinging onto her hand and shouting over her shoulder for Joanne to keep up.
"We're having fun," Joanne told her, taking the other woman and raising their joined hands above the taller woman's head, allowing the girl to twirl in her arms. Antonia had to smile at that, as Joanne used the opportunity to pull her in closer, palms spread against her ribs.
It was a perfect moment to kiss her, and so Joanne did. It was a nice kiss, soft and full of promise, and Antonia kissed her like she was expecting it, with a pant against her lips, and a soft moan that seemed almost like clockwork.
Another chaste press, and Joanne pulled away, looking into sparkling hazel eyes, feeling soft fingers knitted together at the nape of her neck.
"That does make me feel better," Antonia said, a soft murmur, and Joanne grinned. "Bathroom?"
"I think I better stay here," she said, and Antonia smiled and blushed, stepping away and working her way through the crowd.
Joanne's smile ached, and she swallowed without meaning to, palm against her mouth and moving for the bar.
At the bar was a beautiful brunette, who caught her eye and smiled, waving her over. Joanne wondered how it was she ended up with nearly all brunette friends. It certainly said something for her type.
"Hey!" Megan twittered, holding her straw daintily against her lips, pushing gently at the crowd to make room for her. "I didn't know you'd be here tonight!"
Joanne gave her a welcoming kiss on her cheek, and waited for the bartender to notice her. "Just stopping in for a few minutes."
"Not in the mood to party?"
"Not so much."
Megan's smile turned pained, getting to business now that the frivolities were over. "I should let you know, Cindy's here tonight."
Joanne exhaled, eyes rolling up to the ceiling of the club.
"I know, I heard." Megan was all comismeration and sympathy. "I'm sorry."
"It's Cindy's problem. Not mine." Still, she couldn't help the tightness in her chest, when she looked up and discovered her estranged friend just a few feet away, eyes leveled on her intensely. "Oh, God."
"Okay, relax," Cindy said, hand out, as if to ward off a blow. "Before you start in on me, I want to say something."
"You do."
"Yes, I do," Cindy snapped, "And stop being so damned sarcastic. Listen – I was thinking a lot about what you said, and I've come to the conclusion – shut up, Megan-" she warned, palm up to an already ready to interrupt Megan. Their friend shut her mouth immediately, closing lips around her straw, possibly in an effort to keep it occupied. "That you were right. Look…" Cindy sighed raggedly, brushing bangs from her face. "Maybe I'm not completely over you and me, and maybe it's affected the way I've been taking this. The truth is I don't think Maureen's good for you-"
She shut her eyes, squinting past her looming headache. "Cindy-"
"But," Cindy continud. "I know that she's made you more excited about a woman than you've been in forever. I mean – she makes you come alive, and I see that and I recognize that. I can learn to be okay with Maureen. If she's what you want, then I'm happy for you. There. I said it. I need a drink."
Joanne kept quiet, as Cindy pushed her way forward and reached with her hand, catching the bartender by the sleeve. "Give me a Malibu Rum with Pineapple. You?"
Eyebrow rising into her forehead, Joanne wondered if her friend had, in fact, gone insane. "Cosmo," she said finally. "And one for my friend."
"Oh, she's here?" Cindy asked, and Megan shrugged. Turning towards Joanne, she seemed to mentally gear up, hopping lightly on her feet and pasting on her best smile. "Let's meet her. I'm ready."
But it wasn't Maureen that came forward. Instead, Antonia found them, still clearly uncomfortable in the all female crowd, head rising in greeting as Joanne opened her hand, reeling her in. Antonia smiled gratefully. Suppressing a smirk at the goggle-eyed look on Cindy's face, she palmed the small of Antonia's back, a posessive gesture. "You okay?"
"I'll be okay," Antonia answered, firm and to the point.
Her friends were still staring, and so Joanne turned to them both. "Antonia, meet Cindy and Megan."
"Hello," Antonia, a sincere, appropriate smile on her beautiful face.
There was a moment of stillness, as if both women were still recovering from the shock of not meeting who they expected. Joanne waited, shaking her head in bemused exhasperation as Megan finally sprang to life, splashing her drink on her fingers as she shook Antonia's hand a little too eagerly.
"Hi! I'm sorry! It's been a long night. So nice to meet you!"
"I… uh- Cindy…" Cindy responded, following suit, face bright red. "SO nice to meet you. GREAT hair!"
Megan snorted, and Joanne shook her head, as Antonia glanced at her uncertainly.
"Thank you," she answered.
What ensued was an awkward silence, no one quite knowing what to say, and Joanne, quite simply, not in the mood to try and break the ice. It was Megan, always gracious, who finally placed her drink on the bar and opened her palm to her new friend. "Antonia, would you like to dance?"
The music had built to a nice, pulsing beat, and Joanne immediately let her go, nodding when Antonia glanced at her.
"Be back in a bit," Antonia said.
"We'll leave as soon as you do," Joanne promised, and Antonia grinned, squeezing her hand, lingering until she had to let go.
Cindy was quiet, eyes on Antonia and Megan, as the two woman joined the crowd.
"So… no more Maureen," she finally ventured.
Accepting her drink with a thanking nod to the bartender, Joanne took in a gulp of the flavored vodka, ignoring the bitter taste that came with it. "Yes. I told you it was just for the weekend, Cindy."
"Well, I know but…" Sliding a long glance at her, Cindy's words died in her throat. "Nevermind." Bringing her drink to her mouth, she took a small sip. "She's nice."
"She is," Joanne confirmed, eyes on Antonia. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "If I wasn't sensitive enough about our break up."
"You weren't feeling it," Cindy answered, eyes darting away. "I have to deal with that. Not you." Joanne was sweaty, and she felt awkward, heated throughout. "I'm sorry about Maureen."
She closed her eyes, fighting the shiver that slid up her spine. "There's nothing to be sorry about."
They remained quiet, elbows on the bar. A moment later, Cindy laid a light touch against her shoulder, pressing gently, and then letting go.
--
End chapter