"Hi," Ava said somewhat awkwardly, not at all surprised to find Deborah looking flawless even after a day of on-camera pitches and a cross-country flight.
"Come in," Deb stepped aside.
The writer recognized the need for discretion and chose to wait until the door was closed before leaning in for a kiss. Deborah deepened it immediately. Ava dropped the bag off her shoulder to free up her arms to fully embrace the woman. Their mouths separated and she nuzzled into Deb's neck. Ava loved the woman's scent.
"I missed you," she admitted aloud.
Deborah pulled back so they could really look at one another. "I was a bitch about that party," she said.
"You didn't know," Ava shook her head. She led Deb to the couch and pulled her down beside her. "We haven't talked about what this is, but I should have made clear that I am not seeing anyone in L.A. When I did that punch up gig the week you filmed at the Palmetto, I stayed with Ruby. She wanted more than I was able to give her. It wasn't hard for someone I once loved to see right through me."
Deborah linked their hands together before speaking, "what does that mean?"
Ava leaned back.
"I guess I didn't hide it well back then," she blushed. "That I was in love with you."
Taking in the story of that partial week they had spent separated, Deborah remembered how off balance she had been before Ava arrived to the theater's dressing room prior to taping the special. Having her writing partner in the wings gave her confidence. It simply felt right.
"I have a jealous streak," Deb found herself admitting something she had never admitted to another person.
Ava raised an eyebrow and allowed Deborah to explain.
"It will come as no surprise to you that I have spent a great deal of time alone. The only person I have been involved with since the 80s comes to me between marriages or girlfriends, each one younger and prettier than the one before. Until the latest," the pain seeped into her voice and Ava released Deb's hand so she could wrap an arm around the woman's shoulder. "Every time he parades around his latest toy, I feel that familiar jealousy bubble up. I guess when I thought of you spending time with your ex, I was afraid."
With tears in her eyes, Ava cupped Deborah's cheeks and looked at her in a way that she hoped leant strength to what she was about to say.
"Do you know that's the most you have ever said to me about that asshole? And I know all about your divorce and every other man who has wronged you," she offered a tender smile. "I'm proud of you, which I know is a ludicrous thing to say but I am and I can't quite believe—"
Deborah silenced Ava. She kissed her with gratitude, initially, but that gave way to desire. She nibbled her lip before huskily demanding she stand up. Doing as told, Ava stood before Deborah with a questioning look. Not standing to join her, Deborah instead reached for Ava's curvy hips. Her fingers unbuttoned the high-waisted jeans, dragging the zipper down. Wide eyes watched her bring the zipper to a stop. Her face telegraphed arousal. Without hesitation, Ava bent down and unlaced her boots, kicking them away. She slid the jeans down her own legs and stepped out. Crossing her arms over her abdomen she looked to the seated woman and received a nod of permission to pull her shirt over her head. Ava stood before Deborah in her underwear.
"Christ…" Deborah breathed in awe and subconscious jealousy at the hard lines and soft curves of a much younger body.
"Deborah."
Ava was dragged forward and clumsily responded to the movement by falling to her knees, effectively straddling Deborah on the couch. Her mouth sought the woman out—kissing her firmly as hands began roaming her bare skin. Her tongue was flicking Deborah's soft palate when fingers deftly unhooked her bra. She became aware that the hands dragging the bra straps off her shoulders were trembling.
"Deb…?" she hummed unthreateningly against the woman's lips before falling back to gauge what was happening.
Deborah's eyes were dark, pupils blown. Her stunning cheekbones were red and what Ava could see of her chest and neck was flushed. Ava shrugged her bra to the ground and sat confidently in the face of such a licentious stare. But she hadn't forgotten the trembling.
"Come on," Ava stood and with a lack of self-consciousness, held out a hand. To her surprise, Deborah took it. "I suspect you wouldn't be as comfortable with me undressing you in a similar manner, so why don't you get undressed and go get in the bed while I quickly shower. I've been in airports, an airplane and an Uber. God knows what I must smell like having flown commercial. It won't take long."
The woman smirked at the comment knowing she herself had often been quite vocal about her disgust with flying commercial. She nodded mindlessly, a hint of gratitude entering her mind. Deborah said nothing before going into the separate bedroom.
Ava grabbed her discarded bag and headed for the shower. Her entire body was humming.
…
When Ava exited the bathroom, she found Deborah in the bed with the duvet pulled up to cover her chest. The unobstructed view of the delicious slopes from neck to shoulders were enough to spur the return of pooling wetness between Ava's legs.
"Nice robe," Deborah's tone dripped with sarcasm. This earned her a lopsided grin. Ava curtsied.
"It was either this or I come out here totally naked. Silk won out. Even I am not that much of an exhibitionist."
"Come here," Deborah's finger gesturing for Ava left her stunned and her mouth hung open.
Snapping out of it, she moved to the side of the bed closest to where Deborah was reclining. She stood before her and awaited the next directive. Instead of a directive, a hand reached out and skillfully loosened the tie of the robe. They both watched the silk fall open. Wide eyes traveled up and down Ava's body.
"You do look rather good in leopard print," Deborah winked.
Ava casually slipped the robe off her shoulders. Draping it over the bench at the foot of the bed, she received a nod of approval. Ava crawled into bed next to Deborah and relaxed into the woman's embrace. She nuzzled into the space where blonde waves ended and bare skin began. Without any warning she began sucking on an earlobe. When Deb had undressed, she had even removed her earrings.
"Christ," Deborah gasped in pleasure.
Tangling her fingers in waves of damp copper, Deb had the leverage to lure Ava to her mouth. The kiss with frenzied. Unlike when they ended up in bed before, both women were totally naked and neither of them was particularly concerned with being heard. Deborah let out a low moan when an appropriately-sized hand palmed her breast and teased her nipple.
The vibration against her tongue encouraged Ava. She wanted that vibration elsewhere but for now straddling Deb's thigh and pressing down with her pelvis would be enough.
"The responsiveness of the body is wasted on the young," Deborah drawled. Ava refrained from blushing, aware as she was of exactly what Deb was referring to. Instead, she teased Deb's thigh with gliding her hips back and forth.
"I can be patient," Ava insisted. Deborah pinned her with a stare. "Hey, I can be. With you I can be."
A long finger traced a path between Deb's breasts, around her navel, teasing lower and then gradually retracing the path. That Deborah was breathless when Ava's finger touched the woman's bottom lip should have been a sign, but she had not anticipated being flipped onto her back.
"That rowing machine makes for anaconda-like legs," she was both shocked and incredibly turned on by it. "You have my full consent to wrap them around me anytime."
Deborah kissed her to shut her up, tilting her pelvis as she did. The sound that came from Ava had the power to make anaconda-like legs very weak.
…
"When we are apart, things tend to—"
"Implode?" Deborah finished Ava's thought. Their ability to finish one another's thoughts had come just as easily as their ability to finish each other's jokes. It might have been there since the first day they met or maybe it had taken Ava familiarizing herself with Deborah's entire body of work first.
"It's not slapping or thrown crystals territory, but yeah."
When Deborah didn't say anything, Ava glanced around the hotel restaurant before confidently reaching out for the warm, freckled hand of her companion. She gave it a squeeze before saying something she never thought possible.
"If this is it, Deb, I'll take it," she sat up straighter before she continued. "Do I want more? Of course. That's the fucking truth. But I understand that this is delicate."
Deborah was left speechless. Ava had matured in unexpected ways. She blinked in surprise, leaving Ava to fill the silence.
"When I am in L.A. I think about you constantly. I mean, that was the case before you and I…" Ava had never been bashful about talking about her sex life, but now she was blushing.
Signaling the waitress for their check, Deborah's sudden need to get out of the conversation was concerning. Ava pulled out cash and placed it on the table so Deb wouldn't be forced to wait for her card to be swiped and returned. This was seen as permission to leave, apparently. Deborah was up and on her way to the elevator before Ava had closed her wallet and abandoned the table. The elevator door had already closed when she caught up.
"What the fuck did I say?!" Ava groaned.
She stepped into the next available car and felt eyes on her immediately.
"Hi," her fellow rider said, causing her to look down. She was terrible at determining the age of children. All she knew was that he was older than Luna.
"Aren't you a little young to be on the elevator by yourself?" she asked him. She didn't have any idea how old that was. Not the child of Nina Daniels who hadn't been allowed to drive to the mall until she was a legal adult.
"My dad is waiting for me at the top. He says sometimes you have to do what scares you," he said with an adorably proud grin.
"You don't seem scared."
"No, but he is," he let her in on the secret.
All of a sudden it hit Ava. Deb was terrified. While their time together of late had been exhilarating, it had required a great deal of trust on Deborah's part. Trust that had been damaged and repaired on multiple occasions. Ava kicked herself for not seeing it before.
The elevator opened on the top floor revealing a relieved young father who opened his arms to his child.
"Bye," the kid waved at Ava as he walked away. Waving back, she took a deep breath before heading for Deborah's room. She knew better than to think it would be easy once there.
The click of the door as she closed it behind her sounded disproportionately loud in the silent space. When she turned around, the person she cared for most was staring out at the Philadelphia skyline. She approached without speaking, choosing to stand next to Deborah rather than with her arms around her from behind. A quick glance revealed tears.
"D—" she stopped when her own emotions lodged in her throat. Deb's eyes closed at the sound. Ava linked their hands. It was all she could manage as her emotions were haywire.
"I'm going to work every day for the rest of my life," Deborah finally spoke.
With a puzzled look on her face, Ava turned toward her. Sniffling, "I know."
"I'm going to push you away when I'm afraid," she continued.
"Lady, we have met. I am well aware of this habit of yours," she smiled through her tears.
"You are going to drive me nuts from time to time," Deborah gave Ava the look that said she was completely serious. "And I'm not going to understand half of the things you drone on about."
"We wrote an entire show together without me catching half of your references, I think we'll be fine."
"I have an addict daughter, Ava."
"And I have a neurotic mother, what is your point?" she countered quickly.
"She's older than you!"
Trying for laughter, Ava tssked, "mothers tend to be older than their daughters. It'd be rather scandalous if they weren't, don't you think?"
"Could you be serious for one fucking minute?" Deb snapped, her hand pulled away and covered her face.
"Hey…" Ava used all of her strength to pull Deborah into her arms. The woman's resistance was short-lived. She held her tightly anyway. "Talk to me, please?"
With her forehead against Ava's shoulder, Deborah cried: "I hurt you."
"What?" Ava fell back enough to allow her to lift the woman's chin. This brought them to the same eye level, at least. "Now or then?"
"I hurt you once and you forgave me without batting an eye. Then I hurt you again by sending you away. I don't deserve your forgiveness again, Ava." Deborah was haunted by the memories.
"Come here," Ava led them over to the couch. "What you are forgetting is that the first time, you made up for it. In a really big way. What you did for my mom—what you did for me—was huge. Nobody has ever showed up for me like that."
Tears were still occasionally falling down Deborah's cheeks.
"I pushed you away," Deb reiterated.
"And I'm here now. You pushed me out of my comfort zone to a place where I had to say yes to opportunities. I've done that. In a way, you've stepped out of your comfort zone, too. You've admitted something quite huge, D," Ava nodded proudly as she spoke.
"I could hurt you again," Deb said flatly, fighting the urge to look away.
"Do you love me?" Ava asked with equal parts apprehension and anticipation. It was a hell of a week to have committed to a no vape policy.
"What?" Deb's hands dropped and she looked at Ava with confusion and fear.
"Love, Deborah, do you love me?" she repeated the question slowly.
Looking down to her feet, out at the dark Philly skyline and then back to the woman who was offering more patience than Deborah felt she deserved, her voice cracked with emotion as she spoke. "By one definition or another for quite some time."
"And the current definition…?"
The consistent eye contact correlated with the temperature in the suite. Ava's heart beat wildly as she awaited Deb's answer.
"Christ, do you need me to say the actual words or is the fact that we are in a hotel room on the other side of the country enough?" Deb tried for exasperated and it didn't land. Not like it would have in the first months of their working relationship. Ava was no fool. Hands delicately touched Deborah's cheeks. Eyes darted to lips and back again. Ava kissed her with a tenderness Deborah couldn't remember ever experiencing. Not in her seventy years of life. What a shame. There was nothing rushed or desperate about it and with no clear motive or goal. As it deepened further, the fear that had been leading her response to the kiss gave way to the sensual nature of two mouths moving together. Their bodies were magnetized. Fingers weaved their way through hair, nails traced skin, lips left each other's for earlobes and pulse points.
"I love you, too," Ava whispered as her tongue traced the hollow of Deborah's neck and her collarbone. "And you aren't going to hurt me."
…
"Do we like his chances?" Ava asked over the noise of the crowd.
She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with DJ, staring at the empty cage. Aiden would soon come out to either be pulverized by his opponent or to barely hold his own or at least that's what Ava assumed were the potential outcomes. They were at the Staples Center, un unusual location for an MMA fight, or so she thought, but she associated MMA and boxing with Vegas.
"I never like his chances," DJ shrugged.
"Great," Ava dragged the word out and glanced over at DJ who was watching her with suspicion. "What?"
"Talk."
The way DJ was looking at her made Ava instantly anxious. She felt her foot start waggling, but couldn't find the appropriate level of calm that might bring it to a stop.
"About what?" she tried to be cool even though she knew DJ wouldn't buy it.
"What's going on with you and Mom?" DJ was blunt. DJ was always blunt.
"What do you mean?" she looked away.
"Mmhmm, that's what I thought," DJ said and Ava's head snapped back toward her.
"What did you think?" Ava was now fidgeting with her dad's watch on her wrist, turning it in circles.
"She isn't angry, dude. Whatever it is you've done to cause this change in Deborah is appreciated by the rest of us. Though if you do anything stupid and she goes right back to that dark place or worse, you'll lose us being on your side," DJ spoke the last bit venomously.
"DJ…" Ava didn't know what to say.
The younger Vance placed her hand on Ava's knee, stilling the bobbing foot. They looked at one another for a moment and something resembling acceptance passed between them. DJ wasn't outright saying she knew her mother was fucking her former writing partner, but it was clear she knew something fundamental had changed between the two of them. Leave it to DJ to be the one to see the broader picture.
Suddenly the ring announcer's voice was loud on the PA system and fans were on their feet. He ran through the rules and introduced Aiden's opponent who was the crowd favorite. Aiden came toward the cage when his name was announced, bouncing with eagerness, but probably a healthy dose of nerves. You don't fight guys with nicknames like The Maim Train without some fear unless you're a psychopath.
"Yeah, babe! Kick his ass!" DJ shouted loudly, startling the people around them. She blew kisses at her husband while gripping Ava's arm with surprising strength. He gave Ava a little wave.
"Let's go, Aiden!" she shouted. When in Rome, or something.
And they watched Aiden get crushed.
…
"Has DJ said anything to you about me?" Ava was lying on her back on her bed, phone to her ear.
"Like what?" Deborah asked without a hint of curiosity.
"I don't know, she said something at the fight that made me think maybe she is on to us," Ava chewed the cuticle of her thumbnail as she talked.
"We talk about your show every week," Deborah gave her the respect to take the time to think back over recent conversations. "No, now that you mention it, DJ is the only person not talking to me about you lately."
"What does that mean?" Ava sat up so fast she was lightheaded.
"Nothing you need to worry about."
Ava listened as Deborah moved around her bedroom, preparing to get into bed for the night. Her lack of elaboration was enough to fuel the girl's worry over what was happening in Vegas without her present.
"D?" she pressed on from a place of pure anxiety.
"Ava…" Deborah sighed. She knew the tone and knew it was best to address it rather than let Ava spiral to the place where she rambled about having had a bad case of stage fright in the fifth grade and passing out when it was her turn to say her lines, something she thought she was on the verge of doing once again.
"You and I are in this together. It will only ever work if we are open with each other."
Ava heard Deb climb into bed and imagined being with her in the moment rather than having this conversation over the phone. She waited for the woman to say something—anything.
"Marcus is afraid that things are going to blow up again—between you and I. Jimmy takes it upon himself to remind me of how well you are doing on your own. Josephina makes veiled comments that I think are her awkward way of telling me to choose happiness. It's a minefield around here, kiddo."
Ava smiled at the fact that Deborah could still call her 'kiddo' with a straight face when Ava had definitely sat on that face.
"Marcus is always going to worry, Deb," she had come to reluctantly accept this. "I'll tell Jimmy to back off. You don't need that."
"I'm a big girl, Ava."
Reaching for her bottle of water, the writer took a drink and screwed the lid back on slowly. Her throat might not have been dry, but her mind needed a moment to think out the safest way to continue this conversation. It wasn't a typical Ava move, but Deborah had made Ava stop acting in a typical manner somewhere back between writing a whole new act together and digging through a dumpster for a tennis ball canister of ashes.
"For what it's worth, DJ seems cool with it. As long as I don't fuck up and hurt you. I got the impression she might break my legs in that case."
Deborah cackled.
"She was serious, D."
"I don't doubt it. Have you thought at all about how you will tell your mom?" Deborah asked when she caught her breath from laughing at her daughter the mob enforcer. Vegas culture was in her blood.
It was Ava's turn to sigh. The idea of Nina Daniels freaking out because of who Deborah Vance was, how she had fired Ava, and their significant age difference didn't leave Ava with much optimism.
"You don't have to do anything you aren't ready for, sweetie," Deb's voice was comforting, sweet in a way Ava would continue to find unexpected. "God knows I'm not having the conversation with DJ yet."
"I'm not ashamed, Deb," Ava was firm.
"I didn't say you were."
Silence dragged on between them until Deborah's inability to sit with discomfort forced her to speak.
"I am going to be in L.A. at the end of next week," she stated matter-of-factly.
This made Ava's stomach flutter.
"Would you like to go to dinner?"
"You know, you're cute when you're afraid the answer is no," Ava smirked.
"Fuck off," Deborah employed her faux gruff tone.
"Yes, of course I would like to go to dinner. Anything with you, D."
"Okay," Deb adjusted her pillows. "I'll find out the schedule from Damien and let you know."
This time the silence was that of two people getting sleepy after a long day.
"Go to sleep, Deb. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, honey," Deborah's mouth turned up in one corner.
"Goodnight."
…
The conversation flowed easily throughout dinner. The restaurant was not bustling which allowed for both privacy and intimacy.
"It's nice to not be recognized everywhere I go," Deborah remarked, looking around at the people at the other tables who were either unaware of who she was or too accustomed to seeing celebrities in L.A. to care.
Ava thought about how often they would be somewhere in Vegas and Deborah would be asked for an autograph or told how much she was loved, often by so-and-so's mother or aunt or partner (wink, wink). Even after touring the country in a bus with her initials literally written on it, it never occurred to Ava that Deb might tire of the attention. She hadn't really thought about how L.A. received Deborah or why Deborah detested the city.
"Now you know how we mere mortals experience life," Ava finally responded.
"Not for long. Before you know it, you'll be as recognizable as Jenji Kohan."
"I'm surprised you know who that is. Also, my hair doesn't take color. Once, I thought I'd prank Nina and dye my hair green. It wasn't Halloween, but my house was sporting a pumpkin." Ava smiled broadly when Deborah laughed. I would do anything to make this woman laugh, she thought.
A look crossed Deborah's face that told Ava of very impure thoughts. She warmed considerably, barely hiding her response behind slow sips from her wine glass. Having consumed just short of two bottles of wine, it was clear neither would be driving. When they had finished their meal, Ava pulled up her app and ordered a ride.
"I'll have the driver drop me off and then he can take you out to the swankier parts of this city," Ava winked.
Deborah didn't even bother rolling her eyes. It was a wasted effort.
The waiter returned with Deb's card—she had insisted on paying. And Ava had pontificated on the archaic notion that if you ask someone to dinner you are assuming the cost. At least it wasn't an argument about which of them had more money to spend.
Once the car arrived, Ava found her heart beating noticeably. They were sitting quite close together in a car much smaller than the model of Rolls Royce or Mercedes that often drove Deborah around Vegas. The driver was at least as quiet as Ronnie.
Ava appreciated the length of Deb's dress, the hem falling just below the knee. Seated, it rode up a bit, causing Ava's hands to twitch with the desire to touch the newly exposed skin. Deborah noticed. She reached out for Ava's hand, linking their fingers and setting their hands in her lap. A raised eyebrow was the only outward reaction Ava received when she extended a finger to trace the edge where fabric met skin.
"This it?" the driver's voice cut through the building sexual tension.
"Come up," Ava found the courage to ask. It wasn't a question, though. Deborah nodded nonetheless.
"Thanks," Ava said to the driver as she jumped out and rounded the car to open the door.
Holding out a hand for Deborah, she was scalded by the current of electricity that had surged between them. She stumbled her way through unlocking the door and led the way up the stairs to her apartment. Neither woman spoke.
"Home, sweet home," Ava hummed, hardly an honest depiction of this place and where it fit in her life.
Deborah took in the space with a curious eye. The couch she had gifted Ava fit well with the minimal decor. She moved toward the tv stand, noting the new DVD player and the open case that contained a copy of her special. Their special.
Ava's presence was felt behind Deborah. She ran a hand down Deb's arm until she reached fingers to link with her own. With confidence, she wrapped her other arm around Deb's abdomen, pressing her forehead against the space just below her hairline. The kiss she planted there caused a subtle shiver.
Deborah's free hand ran the length of Ava's arm, softly tracing the skin she was now intimately acquainted with.
"Deb..." Ava whispered.
Turning around, she found Ava's lips. She hummed her approval when hands grasped her hips and held her closer. Something Deborah never expected when their intimate relationship began was how much she would enjoy Ava taking charge. The times Ava had been aggressive were unforgettable. Not a power top now, huh, Deb? she smirked to herself.
"I assume there's a bedroom somewhere," she mumbled between kisses and self-deprecating thoughts.
"That is a correct assumption," Ava said as her lips touched Deborah's pulse point. She took the woman's hand and led her to the bedroom.
"Is that…?" Deb moved toward the nightstand where she picked up a black frame. "You stole this in Sacramento?"
"It wasn't his to begin with," Ava shrugged. "You don't belong to anyone."
"How long has it been next to your bed?" Deborah's question, though not pointed, still made Ava squirm.
"It was in a drawer until I returned from Philly. A box before that." Ava watched and waited as Deb returned the item. "Does that make it less stalkerish?"
Deborah turned around and looked straight at Ava. Tears were pooling in her eyes and her bottom lip quivered.
"Shit. It's too much too soon, isn't it?"
The look that accompanied Deb shaking her head didn't clarify anything. She risked taking a step closer, a hand held out. She only relaxed slightly when her offered hand was accepted.
"You really do love me," Deborah's voice wavered, but her look held awe.
"God, of course I love you," Ava chuckled before fully appreciating how much doubt Deborah had been carrying. "Oh. D—"
Ava enveloped Deb in an embrace that she hoped would speak to the depth of her love. Soft kisses were placed to her lover's ear, jaw and chin. She felt the tears on her shoulder and it broke her heart. Had Deborah Vance ever trusted someone with her heart after the greatest betrayal in her life? Fuck all of the people who have hurt her, Ava seethed.
Ava wiped away Deb's tears and held her damp, red face in her hands so that she could be heard clearly and her words might just be taken to heart.
"You once told a reporter that finding someone who shares your unique sense of humor is like finding the only other person who speaks your language. I don't know if you understood the significance of what you and I had at the time, but I knew the first day I met you that I'd found someone, maybe the only person, who understood my comedy. Then I got to know you and I saw a woman who understood the deep, scarring loneliness I had experienced because she had lived that, too. I fell for this beautiful person who had the ability to make me laugh and cry. And when I say I love you, I mean it. I will always mean it."
After brushing her knuckles against Deb's cheek, Ava dropped her hands to her sides. She waited. She would have waited a lifetime if Deborah asked her to. Maybe even without Deborah asking.
"Is that all?" Deborah raised an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth curled.
"I left out your great tits and anaconda-like legs. Thought it wasn't the right moment."
Deborah cackled so loudly at this that Ava's neighbors surely heard. She was pulled against her lover's body and finally relaxed. They were okay.
"Why don't I get you some pajamas and we can get tucked in for the night. They aren't leopard print or silk, but I promise no flannel," Ava fought off a rush of emotion that made her eyes misty. Not the time to be emo, Ava! she told herself.
"I am sure that is not why you asked me in," Deborah was disappointed in herself for being so damn emotional. They were a lot alike.
"No, but there's no reason it couldn't be."
Deborah kissed Ava with love and gratitude, melting into her in a way that said yes to it all.
To be continued…