Angela was enjoying a quiet night in when she heard a knock at the door.
Hmm? Now who could THAT be? I'm not expecting any visitors, and it IS getting late…
She set her book down and stood up. She was surprised to see Deborah on the other side of the door, smiling awkwardly and soaking from the rain.
"Hi, can I come in?" she asked softly.
"Oh? … Oh! Yes! Of course!" Angela shook her head to rouse herself, quickly stepping aside and opening the door wider.
"If this is a bad time, I can go," Deborah offered as she slowly made her way in.
"Oh! No! No! It's not a bad time!" Angela was quick to wave her hands reassuringly, kicking herself for her lackluster reaction when she first opened the door. She was actually delighted to see the model; it was always nice to have a friend visit! She certainly didn't want Deborah to leave, especially not now that she was here, at Angela's place. It just wasn't expected…
Deborah sighed in relief. "Thank you. I'm really sorry for not texting first or calling. I just had to get out of there!"
"Is something wrong?" Angela asked, alarmed.
Deborah chuckled and shook her head, reassuringly, apologetically. "No, nothing like that. It's just… today… Valentine's Day," she practically growled the word. "Ugh! This stupid holiday always does this to me!"
"Does what to you?" Angela echoed, mystified. Didn't Deborah like Valentine's Day? A day of romance, love, and sexuality… These were all things Deborah liked, right? And she was a model! If there was any line of work brimming with romance, love, and sexuality, it had to be modeling! … Right? And yet, Deborah's face seemed to convey otherwise.
"Are… are… are you unable to find a… date?" Angela asked. It was a genuine question, but she felt a little embarrassed asking it.
"Well, I could," Deborah acknowledged. "But all the people around me are just so… narcissistic, you know?" she asked, eyes searching Angela's for any sign of understanding. "I mean, sure, maybe they have money and fame and… amazingly good looks, but… they're just so SHALLOW!" The model paused, shaking her head again in disgust, irritation, and… sadness, loneliness.
But when her eyes returned to Angela's, a smile returned to her face. "I think that's what I like about you. You're different."
"Ouch," Angela joked, affecting a wounded look, and placing a hand over her heart.
"Oh! It's not like that! Come on!" Deborah rolled her eyes and pretended to chide the doctor, but her laughter gave her away.
Angela's heart fluttered. She was still confused as to what was going on, and why Deborah was here at such a late hour, but realizing that her joke was funny enough to make the model laugh made her forget everything else for just a moment.
I… I… I made her laugh! She… she liked my joke!
"I just never thought I'd get so close to a neuroscientist and chemist," Deborah continued. "But… here we are!" A sheepish laugh. "And here I am…" A pensive look. She sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "I hate being so needy, but I just get so lonely this time of year, and I really don't want to be alone tonight…" Angela couldn't read the look Deborah gave her, so she gave the model a sympathetic wince in return. For just a second, Deborah's expression changed back into a sad smile, but Angela barely had time to register it before Deborah started talking again.
"Ah, would you mind if…?" She was inside Angela's house, but still right by the doorway.
"Oh, yes! Please, do come in," Angela stepped back so that Deborah could make her way further inside.
"Thank you," Deborah gave another sigh of relief, hands already moving to the front of her coat. "Here, let me take off my coat so I can give you a hug! I don't want to get you all wet… from the rain…" A second later, she tore the coat from her body. Angela's eyes went comically wide. Deborah was… almost as naked as a newborn underneath. The doctor's mind went blank.
"Oh! Sorry! I hope you don't mind! I was in bed tossing and turning and I guess I was so determined to get out of that big empty mansion that I just… forgot to put some clothes on," Deborah's tone and eyes were light and lilting, innocent, but her smile was wonderfully wicked and salaciously sinful. She laughed and pretended to chide herself, still standing there in only very skimpy lingerie. Oh… my…
"Oh, you like?" Deborah teased, pretending Angela was staring in intrigue rather than shellshock. "Isn't it lovely? Silk, lace… you can feel if you like!" She stepped towards the doctor, biting her lip just a little. Then she took Angela's hand in her own and guided it to her chest. Angela made a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat. "Don't worry," Deborah pretended again to misunderstand Angela's reaction. "It's more comfortable than it looks. I did the shoot and I just had to have it!"
Angela was, unsuccessfully, trying to keep her eyes on Deborah's. She was also, and again unsuccessfully, trying to ignore the fact that Deborah was still holding her hand against her chest.
"It's, uhhh, lovely, Deborah, I just don't… usually see people in lingerie…" She gave a nervous, awkward laugh that sounded halfway like a yelp. And I definitely don't usually TOUCH people in lingerie either…
"What? Doesn't every woman wear lingerie to bed?" Deborah asked, tilting her head, free hand sliding up to her other breast.
"N-no…?" Angela's eyes started to slip downward again.
"Well, you should try it," Deborah beamed. "Nothing makes you feel sexier."
Angela could only nod, still speechless, head empty, no words coming to mind. Purely to protect her last shred of her sanity, modesty, and decorum, she finally turned away and slid her hand out of Deborah's (and away from Deborah's, well… )
"If you want, I can grab you a robe. I know I'm smaller than you, but the robes I have might be long enough…" Angela managed to keep her voice level, though her heart was pounding a million miles a minute.
"Oh, that won't be necessary, my little angel," Deborah's voice was airy as she waved Angela off, but her smile was genuine and warm.
Ever the sweet, chivalrous one, aren't you, my little angel? Poor thing, she was still so sexually repressed that she felt guilty just being in the presence of a half-naked Deborah. It was endearing… when it wasn't also frustrating.
Honestly, Deborah was certain that Angela was the only person in the world, or at least their city, that would look at a half-naked Deborah up close and personal and immediately scamper off to fetch a robe. Anyone else would've barely been able to keep their hands off of the sexy supermodel. But, as said supermodel noted earlier, Angela was different, and that was exactly why Deborah liked her so much.
But enough teasing, even Deborah could be merciful sometimes.
"You don't need to bring me a robe, unless you're uncomfortable. I mean, we're friends, right?" she asked. That gave Angela pause.
"Yes. Yes. You're right. Friends. We're friends." She seemed to be talking to herself more than she was to Deborah. She nodded once, then swallowed, steeling her nerves as she slowly turned back around to face Deborah again.
Her heart skipped another beat and she felt some of her breath get caught in her throat. God, Deborah was just so… beautiful. She was lovely and sweet, a charming, adorable, crooked grin on her smooth, perfect face. Her limbs were beautifully proportioned, and her skin looked so soft, silky, and smooth. Angela just wanted to run her hands all over the model. Her arms, her thighs, her torso, her face, her…
God, Jekyll, ENOUGH! Stop being such a… a… creep! A perv! Don't go objectifying your best friend like that! Come on! Don't be weird! Show some respect and common decency!
What happened next did nothing to help poor Angela's confusion.
"Well then, can I have that hug now?"
"What?" Angela barely even had time to ask the question before the half-naked Deborah was suddenly stepping closer, and Angela found herself enveloped in all that warm, soft, smooth skin, up close and personal.
Angela gave another strangled squeak as Deborah happily wrapped both of her arms around the doctor, embracing her tightly and pulling her in nice and close. She could feel Deborah's cheek on her head and her chest pressing right up against Angela's.
Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod! Red alert! Red alert! Angela felt like an idiot, but her mind was drawing so many blanks that only the silliest of thoughts managed to be even semi-coherent. And she feels so warm, too! And she smells so nice…
"Mmmm, this is nice," Deborah hummed at the same time.
After what felt like an eternity, she released Angela from her grip. Angela wanted to whine unhappily at the sudden intrusion of the cold.
"Sorry if I held on a little long. You're just really warm and it was so cold outside," the model said, once again echoing the doctor's own thoughts. Then a pained look crossed the model's face. "Oh! My muscles are so stiff! The cold certainly isn't helping, and I think I pulled something during the shoot earlier…" Angela's stomach dropped again. Deborah's tone of voice… Angela didn't like where this was going… Or… did she?
"You seem good with your hands, doc, would you mind massaging my back a little?" she asked. "Don't worry, I'll repay the favor."
"I… , uhhh, what?" Angela floundered helplessly, hoping Deborah wouldn't notice the way she'd suddenly swallowed quite audibly.
"I'm sure you're excellent with anatomy," the model continued, voice still light and teasing and innocent. "And I'm sure you know your way around a woman's body better than you may want to let on."
"What?!" Now Angela was a little more alarmed. What's that supposed to mean?! I'm a neurochemist, not a masseuse!
"Well, you are a woman, yourself, after all," Deborah shrugged. "That is all I meant."
Sure it was.
"R-right, Deborah," Angela tried to ground herself, nodding, but her smile was a little more than slightly forced.
At the same time, though, the doctor couldn't deny how tempting the thought of getting to touch—err, massage—Deborah was. Then suddenly, they were on the couch, Deborah's back to Angela as Angela's trembling hands made their way towards all that smooth, flawless, gorgeous skin. Mmm and she still felt so warm and soft…
Angela's thoughts were interrupted by a bout of moaning from Deborah. "Just like that! Oh, that feels so good!"
Ok, now she's DEFINITELY doing this on purpose… For once, Angela was glad Deborah's back was to her. That way, the model wouldn't see how red the doctor was sure she was turning. Curse my own pale complexion! If only it could be more like Deborah's, like China rather than chalk…
Angela chose a bad time to redirect her attention to Deborah.
"Here, let me unhook my bra, that will make it easier for you." Before Angela could even blink, Deborah's hands joined her own, brushing past her to grab at the clasp holding the upper part of her lingerie together. A second later, it tumbled down. Oh, my…
Because Deborah's back was still to Angela, Angela didn't even get to see the best bits; she wasn't sure if this relieved or frustrated her. Now her mind was going a million different directions all at once and none of them were very pure or wholesome.
C'mon, Dr. Jekyll, c'mon! Stop thinking about her like that! Don't think about… what she probably looks like from the front… And what she might feel like… I wonder if she would mind…? How far… could I snake my hands around her sides… before she…? Oh, god, why is she…? So hot?
Angela bit her lip and, inwardly, moaned in despair.
"Mmm, your fingers feel amazing!" Deborah's voice broke Angela's silence. "I can't believe you don't have a partner already!" Her voice became playful, and she turned her head to look Angela in the eye. "I thought all the good ones were taken." Her voice was low and seductive.
"Ah, well, you know, that's just what happens when you spend all your time in a lab!" Angela laughed nervously. "People aren't always into reclusive nerds that can only really talk about one, mostly uninteresting, topic."
"Well then, you just need to massage them so they can see the error of their ways!" Deborah continued to moan pleasurably.
"I'm pretty that's illegal, Deborah," Angela smirked. Despite herself, just a flash of her old humor returned.
"You're right, I guess that would be assault, huh? Maybe ask them first?" Deborah echoed Angela's dry laugh. "But… I think I like having you all to myself. If you were to offer your services to anyone else, I would have to share you, and I don't think I like that idea very much at all."
Oh… my…
Deborah's tone was so simple and frank as she said those words, but they made Angela's heart flutter like nothing else, and that was saying something, given their current situation. Speaking of…
"Ah! A little lower, please! I have such knots down there!" Angela moved from Deborah's shoulder blades to the small of her back. "No, lower, lower," Deborah moaned. "Right above the panty line."
The what!?
But Angela's hands obeyed Deborah's voice before her mind could full process what was even asked of her.
"Oh! Yes! That's it! Right there! You're getting all those horrible knots out!" Deborah moaned. "You may work with brains, but you really are marvelous with your hands. I wasn't wrong about you knowing how to touch a woman's body exactly the way she needs!"
Angela was left so giddy and speechless by Deborah's praise and moans that she could only continue to massage the model, halfway on autopilot, only vaguely aware of what she was doing. But at last, Deborah decided to show mercy again.
"Thank you, you can stop now," she said. For a moment, Angela's hands lingered on Deborah's back. "I'll hook this back up, too!" the model added.
As soon as Deborah's hands snuck around her sides, Angela instantly dropped hers. It was with some disappointment that she watched Deborah hook her lingerie back into place. Then she kicked herself for not offering to help, although she probably wouldn't have hooked Deborah back up if Deborah had given her the reins…
"That was perfect!" Deborah turned around, her ocean-blue eyes meeting Angela's sky-blue ones. "I feel so much better now! All loose and relaxed!" She shook out her arms, grinning from ear to ear. "And actually, speaking of relaxing… Do you have any tea? I could make us tea!"
Well, this night was certainly shaping up to be a memorable one… First, Deborah came over in the pouring rain in next to nothing but lingerie, then she stripped down even further and had Angela give her a massage, and now she was inviting Angela to teatime. But who was Angela to deny her?
"Yes, right this way, Deborah!" The doctor hopped up from the couch, leading the model to her kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want me to make it?" she asked. "Because if you want tea, all you have to do is ask, I don't mind making some for you!" She gave Deborah a hopeful smile.
"Oh, no, thank you, my sweet little angel," Deborah paused to touch Angela's cheek. It was a brief, light touch, but Angela felt sparks fly. "The massage was lovely enough. Besides, I want to do this. Making tea calms me down, it's the Brit in me," she chuckled.
Deborah may have lived in the US since she was 15 (she was 20 now), but she still retained quite a few British mannerisms and sensibilities. Teatime was a quintessential British habit, and it stayed with her long after she was "Americanized". The duo worked in silence together, Deborah making the tea while Angela fetched the cups.
After a time, though, Angela realized that Deborah was staring at her. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no," Deborah laughed disarmingly, finally looking away, both to reassure Angela and to hide her embarrassment at being caught. "I just never thought I'd be spending Valentine's Day at your house… making tea in my underwear." The duo laughed. Yes, it was the most… unique Valentine's Day either of them had ever lived through. "Hopefully I'm not making too much of an intrusion."
"No, of course not!" Angela cried passionately. Both she and Deborah seemed startled by her intensity, so she was quick to try to patch things over. "I mean, I wasn't doing anything else important anyway, just reading. You know me, always alone… So, no, you're not being an intrusion at all." You're never an intrusion, Deborah, it's always nice to have a friend visit…
"Well, good, because there's nowhere else I'd rather be either," Deborah gave Angela a meaningful look, and for a moment, Angela held her breath. Why did she feel like something big was coming? But a second later, Deborah's eyes darted back to the tea.
"You should really consider an electric kettle, they're very handy," she remarked. British girl though she was, she was not so snobby, stuffy, and old-fashioned that she only used teapots. In a way, Angela was more antiquated than she was. For example, the model knew the doctor had a gramophone down in her laboratory. Not exactly, 21st century technology…
"Oh! Not that I'm complaining, mind you," Deborah was quick to add, hoping her suggestion hadn't come off as an insult.
"Oh, no, don't worry, I understand," Angela smiled sweetly at the model. Actually, for just a moment, Angela had worried that Deborah's remark was a thinly-veiled critique, but good old Deborah came through for her and was quick to amend her statement to put Angela feel more at ease.
Angela felt both touched and bashful that Deborah would go to such lengths to make sure she was comfortable. She was willing to police herself so that she never accidentally hurt Angela's feelings. It was not a perfect system, Deborah was a naturally blunt and sharp person, but the fact that she was taking it into consideration at all meant more than words could've ever said, and the doctor felt all of her worries melt away instantly after Deborah's reassurance. Angela hated to admit how much she loved it.
"Really, thank you, this is nice…" Deborah said. It seemed as though Angela wasn't the only one lost in pensive thought.
"Is… something troubling you, Deborah?" Angela finally felt brave enough to at least ask.
Deborah finally felt brave enough to tell, or at least, to try. "It's just… Do you know what it's like… to be surrounded by people but still feel totally alone? It's like I'm there, but do they see me? They see… the face, the hair, the body… but not the soul."
How many days and nights had she spent modeling, surrounded by hordes of pretty people, and yet still feeling as though it wasn't really her standing among their ranks? It felt like… someone else, not Deborah Lavish, just some vague, pretty body shaped like her. Or perhaps that was how they saw her, only on the most superficial of levels.
More than once, Deborah wondered if she was a ghost. That was how invisible she felt. It seemed as if the only time anyone saw her was when she was posing for a camera. Outside of that, though…? Was she even real? Was she even human? Did she have a corporeal form, or was she just a pretty face in pretty outfits?
"But it's different with you," she continued, that meaningful look returning to her ocean-blue eyes. "I'm not invisible to you. You see me… I think? The person inside the person?" Her voice was slow, and her words were hesitant. "Do you see me… the way I see you…?"
"Wh-what do you mean, Deborah?" Angela wanted to offer her companion solace, but… this was going a little over her head, here. She studied the brain, but more in a physical sense than psychological or philosophical.
"It's just… hard to explain," Deborah sighed in frustration. "It's… I just… I… I… have feelings for you… I don't want you like a best friend…"
Angela felt her heart thud in her chest. Deborah… had feelings for her? And not just in a friend way? Was she dreaming? Angela almost wanted to pinch herself just to make sure. But even in her wildest dreams, would she have ever dared to dream of this?
"You don't have to say you feel the same way just because it's Valentine's Day," Deborah was quick to add on. The longer Angela remained silent, the more nervous she became. "Or because you don't want to hurt my feelings. I can take it! I just…" Then, so softly that even she almost couldn't hear herself, Deborah finally said it, finally said those three words.
"What?" So softly that even she almost couldn't hear herself, Angela had to ask. Was it true? Was it really, really true? Dare she hope…?
"Uhh, I said that I, uhh, I said—" God, what was wrong with her today?! Sure, it was Valentine's Day, one of her most hated holidays, but why was she suddenly so… tongue tied?! And around Angela, no less? Wasn't Angela supposed to be the meek one? Yes, she was adorable, and she was sweet, but Deborah had never acted like this around her before, so why now? Why couldn't the butterflies wait just a little longer?
"I said… I, that, I… I think I… I think I've… fallen in love with you…"
"Oh, Deborah…!"
"Please!" Deborah held up a hand, voice and eyes full of pain. "Don't speak, just… listen."
Angela closed her mouth, swallowing the lump in her throat and nodding.
"You're just… this amazing, passionate, innovative scientist and I'm… just this silly girl who gets paid obscene amounts of money to look sexy in pictures. So what if I'm a wealthy, internationally renowned supermodel?" she asked, and perhaps it sounded silly, but so often people would assume that because she was a wealthy, internationally renowned supermodel, she never had any struggles or cares in the world. That couldn't be farther from the truth. If anything, in a way, sometimes the stakes felt even higher for her than the average jane or joe.
Of course, in some ways, she had less to worry about than the average jane or joe, but modeling could be quite a cutthroat job. Whether she was competing with other models, or a scale, there was always someone she was disappointing, some expectation or stereotype she wasn't living up to. And she knew she would be raked over the coals by the general public if she ever let any of her pain show. People like her weren't supposed to be sad, so if she was, that was a clear sign that something was wrong with her. Or that she was just being a whiny, spoiled, entitled, selfish brat.
Even as Angela remarked earlier, surely it wasn't hard for someone like her to find a Valentine's Day date? Wouldn't she have suitors practically throwing themselves at her? Well, perhaps, but how many of those suitors actually cared for her beyond her looks? Where was the person who would love her when she was nothing new? When asking that question, the pool of viable suitors dropped almost to zero.
"It's nothing without love!" she cried. "All that time spent in your laboratory, listening to you talk about all the great ideas you had, all the great things you'd do, all the great contributions you'd make to society, and all the great inventions and discoveries you were on the path to bringing to life? You were really going to change the world someday… Your creative genius and work ethic! How could I not fall for you?" Deborah pleaded, voice hushed and full of awe. Angela could only stand there like an idiot, head empty again, and jaw hanging wide.
Ok, this had to be a dream. Or perhaps, some very vivid hallucination? There was no way the great and beautiful Deborah Lavish was actually confessing her love for Angela, right? Especially not in such a tender, sweet, honest, vulnerable way, right? That wasn't Deborah's style at all! She was always so breezy and cool. This… had to be just some wild, crazy manifestation of one of Angela's deepest, darkest desires. There was no way this was actually—
"But what hope do I have with someone as amazing as you loving someone as unimpressive as me, a dime-a-dozen pretty face…?" Now Angela was really in doubt. Who was this woman standing before her? Surely it wasn't the real Deborah Lavish! But some imposter, perhaps?
"I'm an idiot!" Deborah cried. Angela's silence was surely a rejection. She was probably laughing in her head right now. How stupid Deborah must've looked! What was she, some dewy-eyed, hare-brained, schoolgirl with a crush? How pathetic! How embarrassing! How unlike her! "This was a mistake! I shouldn't have said that! I shouldn't have co—"
She was cut off mid-lament by Angela suddenly launching herself forward, grabbing Deborah by the straps of her bra, and then pulling her in for a kiss. When all else failed, when all words and thoughts were gone, at least Angela still had a body. For a moment, then, it was Deborah's turn to go silent and still, barely even able to process the feeling of Angela's lips pressing against hers, passionate and desperate.
But, just as Angela experienced earlier, it seemed as though Deborah's body was willing to obey Angela's commands even when her mind was still very far away. She didn't even realize that she was kissing Angela back until a couple seconds had passed, but the moment her conscious mind became aware of it, she simply had to tear herself away and ask…
"You mean it? You really, really mean it?!" But she didn't even wait for an answer, closing the gap between her and Angela's lips once again. Their words were quickly lost in between kisses, Angela breathlessly proclaiming her love for Deborah and reassuring her that nothing was wrong, and Deborah had nothing to be ashamed of. At the same time, Deborah was frantically reaffirming her earlier confession.
She sounds so much like me… Angela mused, listening to Deborah confess how worried she'd been that Angela wouldn't want her. And here I thought only I was the one too cowardly to confess my love. I guess she and I have a lot more in common than we originally thought…
"I never dreamed someone like you would ever give me a chance!" Deborah admitted through kisses, little knowing the exact same thought was running through Angela's head.
In the same way Deborah thought it preposterous that a shy, nerdy scientist would ever have any interest in an extroverted model that did nothing but strut around for the cameras and simper and giggle, Angela thought it absurd that someone as confident and popular as Deborah would ever want someone as socially awkward and plain and boring as Angela. The scientist and the supermodel, what a pair they made!
But the two didn't get much further before the screech of the teapot interrupted them. Pot-blocker! Angela scowled at it.
"We must be heating it up in here," Deborah laughed. For once, she was the amused one while Angela was glaring. When Deborah saw the way Angela was pouting at the kettle, she laughed again. "Forget the tea," she decided. "Let's go upstairs. I can give you that massage and then… We can celebrate the day right!" She placed one more kiss on Angela's lips before they made their way upstairs. "Happy Valentine's Day, my little angel… I love you…"
AN: I give full credit to DA for this story bc a lot of the dialogue is taken right out of her "Sexy Supermodel" audio.
Angela and Deborah belong to Todd C.