Hands clasped, eyes trained on the Macassar Ebony floor, Lightning sat upon the futon in Angela's living quarters above the large laboratory.

"We linked again last night," she confided to her friend and certified doctor who had acted as her therapist since she had first joined PSICOM. "I really hurt her, and it keeps getting worse every time. I don't know what to do."

Angela paused for a moment, and then asked. "Has Jihl shared apprehensions?"

"She never does. I only know how bad it is because of our mental link," Lightning said. "She tries to hide it otherwise."

"You theorize this or you know?" Angela questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"I know," Lightning stated. "It doesn't take a telepath to know the difference between a pleasured twitch and an anguished one."

"Jihl is quite masochistic, though," Angela pointed out. "I recall the results of her stimulation tests. They were particularly escalated when pain was applied, even considerable pain."

"She likes some pain," Lightning confirmed, only comfortable speaking of it because she knew how clinical and scientific Angela was. It made Lightning more comfortable with her than with the other Pulsians. Not fully, certainly, only Jihl had that, but if Lightning had to choose a friend she felt a small medium of solace with, it was Angela.

"But not agony. I've been causing her that of late," Lightning explained, catching Angela's curious, deep purple eyes. "My chill negatively affects her much quicker than it used to. I'm worried. Jihl's always been very sexual and we're already limited in what I can do. She's creative, but if this sensitivity continues… "

Lightning averted her eyes, ashamed.

"Jihl needs sex. Frequently. I've frustrated her by delaying us recently. I thought maybe her accelerated healing could help her recuperate, but that was wishful. She's agreed to a checkup with you, but if we can't solve this, if I can't even sate her… " Lightning swallowed thickly, her throat tight.

"She's already so much better than me. She's beautiful and so thoughtful. She does little things for me all the time: the apartment adaptations, the sweet ways she makes me comfortable, the love we make… I don't deserve her, but at least I've been able to satisfy her. I don't know what to do if that's taken away."

Lightning glanced back up at Angela to see her pursing her lips with a clouded look in her deep purple eyes.

"Lightning, describe yourself from your own point of view please ," she directed, and Lightning responded, unbothered by the sudden change of conversational direction as Angela sometimes did this.

"A mess and a freak," she said without hesitation.

"Now, describe how Jihl conceives you," Angela instructed.

Lightning leaned back in the futon, trying to imagine it. Though she couldn't grasp it personally, she knew Jihl didn't see her as deformed, but Lightning had always found it difficult to conceptualize why exactly her perfect girlfriend had fallen for her. She pondered it.

"Unique," she finally said, and Angela motioned for her to elaborate. "Jihl's always liked the unusual. She likes my hair, my body, to a degree, my cold. Though I'm sure she'd prefer that in moderation, not constantly. She likes that I am the best of PSICOM, the capabilities my blood allows, enjoys bragging about me..."

Angela squinted a little bit and mused. "You have listed qualities that you do not admire in yourself," she pointed out, and Lightning frowned. She didn't know how to respond to the statement, but Angela went on and said, "Tell me how Jihl fell in love with you, Lightning."

Lightning reached up and scratched the back of her neck, her brow furrowing further.

"I don't know why she fell for me," she confessed. "I try to keep her happy, but she's so much more than I am. Better. I got lucky."

Angela made a humming noise, considering her, and then said, "You've surmised it before, and now stated it twice in close succession: that Jihl is better than you. Might you elaborate, Lightning? By what means is Jihl superior? You both labor for PSICOM, both service the populace, both minister to and love the other, all of us are Gran Pulse-bred. Why are you inadequate compared to Jihl?"

"Because I'm like my father," Lightning answered without having to think about it. "A living representation of her defect. I'm primal, nearly feral when I don't hold myself in check: I work to help people, but I thrive on the adrenaline of the chase. I'm aroused by it. What kind of sick creature gets off on hunting other people down? I hate my father with every fiber of my being, but I'm like her in ways I'll never be able to change. The potential to turn into her is always there, burning just under the surface. None of you have the feral inclinations I've shown; it's just me."

Her forehead creasing with her growing frown, Angela seemed displeased.

"Lightning," she said, her voice softer than usual, her concern clear. Her expression was so troubled and compassionate, she almost resembled Bethany in that moment. "You are not a predator. Becoming aroused after an adrenaline rush is not indicative of being one; it's not even atypical. We ran every stimulation evaluation in existence, and each time Jihl was actually hurt, your libido dropped drastically. It even occurred on some instances that she enjoyed, but you were tentative of. You have not even had questionable daydreams involving her. Scientifically, we have proven that inflicting pain does not arouse you. And more than that… I know you'd never hurt her that way, Light. Or anyone else."

"There's no way you could know that," Lightning refuted solemnly. "And while I may not enjoy inflicting like my father, my primal nature is undeniable. I'm stronger and faster than any of us, I have the instincts of an animal, and I descend from a lineage of rapists. I'm genetically predispositioned to become what I loathe."

"Lightning, scientists cannot even agree if it is more the effect of one's nature or their nurtured environment that produces the outcome you dread," Angela tried to insist.

"I'm not going to be the one that settles the argument for them," Lightning stated resolutely. "I have to be vigilant about my nature, Angela. I was created to hurt people in horrific ways. If there's any way I can help it, I'll never let myself do that."

Angela looked at her with clear pain in her pretty purple eyes. Lightning was sorry to cause it, but everything she had stated was true and a realistic possibility, even if Jihl and Angela believed in her too much to see it. It touched her that they did, and it was something Lightning would never willingly fall to.

Though at an impasse of personal opinions, Angela deftly navigated their session onwards. "I'd like to bring Jihl back in for our next session, Lightning. Would you mind that?"

"That's fine," Lightning permitted, accustomed to having Jihl attend her therapy sessions from time to time. "But Jihl and I wanted to schedule an emergency appointment with you about her recent sensitivity. Are you available to run a checkup on her? Preferably sooner rather than later."

"I'll make room as soon as possible," Angela promised. "We'll figure out why she's been reacting, Lightning."

"Thank you. I appreciate it, Angela."

Angela nodded once, pressing her hands together and asked, "How has work been this week?"

"It's good. Personality differences aside, my team works together well. Joe's seen combat a few times now, he's learning. Rob's gone over recaps with him and includes him when possible, so I know he likes him. And Dejule is still the most efficient of the team."

"But Jihl doesn't favor Dejule," Angela noted, considering her speculations.

"She doesn't like any of them," Lightning pointed out. "She's particular about Dejule because he's the only one who would shoot me if I stepped out of line."

Angela's eyebrows went up in alarm, but Lightning waved her off.

"It's okay, I need someone capable of that on my team. If I ever were to slip up, they're going to have a hard time subduing me. Bullets would help."

"That seems extreme," Angela ventured carefully.

"It's cautionary," Lightning countered. "Just because I haven't let my feral nature get the best of me yet doesn't mean it couldn't some day. I'm the best PSICOM has. I need somebody willing to take the first shot."

Angela's forehead creased as her frown deepened.

Lightning paused, her thoughts wandering, and then added, "Meditation has been helping, though. I do it before and after every mission, and I've been able to restabilize without rushing to Jihl after."

Angela's dark eyes lit up, and then grew speculative.

"How does Jihl feel about that?"

"Jihl never minded how missions affect me," Lightning confessed. "She's always encouraged me to find her after or she finds me, but we have desperately needed the break of late. I'm glad you recommended it, but I do have a concern," she added, and Angela inclined her head.

"Something has been happening when I meditate. A Pulse thing, I think."

Angela tilted her head, her clear, dark eyes intrigued. "Yes?"

"It doesn't happen every time, but when I reach a certain point in my meditation, I… go somewhere else," she paused, considering how to share it. "It's icy and forested and wild, stretching for miles, and when I'm there, I'm not me. I'm a dog, actually. A wolf. I experience everything as if I'm there, as if I'm her. I feel everything with my usual senses through her eyes. It's peaceful."

Angela's eyes widened and she looked on in fascination.

Lightning went on. "There's no place in Cocoon like it, and we don't have wolves as big or powerful. I think I'm actually in Pulse when it happens."

"It parallels your link with Jihl?" Angela asked excitedly, her scientific intrigue flaring.

"It feels like it," Lightning confirmed. "That's how I figured it was Pulsian, but I've never actually come across anything but snowy landscape when it happens. What do you think, Angela? Do you suppose it's real?"

"I need more data to accurately theorize. Lightning, will you start journaling this? Document everything you recall: what you feel, see, experience and touch. I need to evaluate it all. I'd love to monitor your next meditation as well."

Lightning smiled a little, amused to see Angela so naturally and eagerly succumbing to her inquisitive nature.

"I'll make time for it," she promised, delighting her friend. "But only after you check out Jihl, okay?"

"Agreed," Angela said amiably, and then resumed to the session at hand. "Is there anything else on your mind, Lightning? Have you visited any of the other Pulsians this week?"

"I haven't," Lightning said, knowing it would disappoint Angela. "I've been pretty worried about Jihl," she added, though they both knew that wasn't the sole reason.

"I know it doesn't come naturally to you, Lightning," Angela cautioned. "But it is crucial to cultivate your friendships outside of your relationship with Jihl."

"It's not that I don't care about them," Lightning said, rubbing the back of her neck idly. "You're all important to me."

Angela stood from her seat across from Lightning and reseated herself next to her. Lightning flinched when she moved her warm hand to her cold one and clasped it. The heat was uncomfortable against her chilled skin, and she was sure it was for Angela as well, but there wasn't enough of it to actively hurt. More uncomfortable than the clash of temperatures was the physical contact from anyone but Jihl.

She glanced over at Angela and found her friend and therapist right beside her as the other Pulsian casually held her hand, showing no discomfort despite Lightning's cold leeching the warmth from her fingers.

"Self-acceptance is paramount. How will you ever feel comfortable with those around you if you are not with yourself?"

Lightning eyed their linked fingers. Their proximity alone made her squirm inside, let alone the handholding.

"Even if I wasn't dangerous or cold, I was born out of a crime that killed every one of our mothers. Born to barbarians, physically like them." Lightning said softly, pulling her fingers free from Angela's hand. She clenched her fingers into a fist so Angela wouldn't take it again. "How can I be comfortable with that?"

"You are not your parents, Lightning," Angela said, her voice soft, but insistent. "Their legacy is not yours. Light," she said, her tone more grave now. Unable to take her hand, she put her fingers on Lightning's arm instead. The heat felt even more concentrated there. "You've never asked me to modify you," she said softly, the statement presented as gently as the touch of a butterfly's wings, even as she eyed her lap, indicating. "To remove it. Never even questioned if I could. Why?"

Lightning swallowed, the gentle hand on her arm seeming to burn her, and it wasn't because of the warmth Angela held.

"Jihl likes it," she answered simply, not meeting Angela's eyes. "She likes me as I am. I don't need to be happy with my body. As long as I can make her happy, I'm useful. I defy my father and her forefathers by loving her."

Angela's fingers on her arm squeezed then, and when Lightning looked over, it was to see great anguish in her unique purple eyes.

"Someday, Light, I hope you come to see yourself as we do."

XXX

"Jihl, did you make these little sweet potato bites?" Sam asked, eagerly consuming her third one as Jihl fiddled with the music settings in the communal family room opposite the open-design kitchen.

"Lebreau's," Jihl answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. Sam glanced down the counter towards the infamous cook and grinned. Lebreau, hovering near and discussing something with Bethany, smiled back.

Sam was about to go for another when the front door opened and she saw Sombra come in.

In tight, boot-cut jeans and a flattering black v-neck that slit at the shoulders, she was a vision. Her dark purple hair descended to the right of her head, straight but for the little curl at the tips where the color lightened to magenta. On the left side, the shaved half of her head revealed parallel designs to the glowing Hard Light technology that ran from the edge of her hairline straight back. Glowing Hard Light traveled down her arms as well, visible in peeks through the slits in her top, and followed her veins down to her purple, tech-fused forearms before trekking all the way to her hands and fingernails. Half infused and half on top of the skin, Sombra made the most unique and arousing cybernetics-blended human that Sam knew.

"Finally," Sam greeted exuberantly, forgetting about the tasty treats to make her way to another one, "Someone else I can make out with."

Sombra smiled as Sam rushed to her and opened up her arms welcomingly. Sam caught her face in one hand and tangled the other into the purple hair that hung from the right side of Sombra's head. She mashed their mouths together, pleased to hear Sombra's satisfied rumble as her hot skin warmed her best friend's body and passions.

Sam felt the pinch of Sombra's Vishkar Hard Light nails as they faintly pierced her back. She shuddered, accidentally allowing Sombra to momentarily take advantage of her mouth.

Sombra's invasion was quick and teasing. She licked Sam's lip as she pulled away, purple eyes glinting mischievously as she smiled.

"Miss me?"

"I always miss you," Sam admitted, combing her fingers through Sombra's silky hair. She cupped Sombra's chin and stroked it fondly with her thumb, relishing the look Sombra gave her. "Tonight?" she asked her busy friend hopefully.

"I'll make time for you, Sam," Sombra promised, tonguing her bottom lip salaciously. Sam shuddered and Sombra chuckled, dropping her arms from Sam's back to lazily rest one upon her hip, those razer fingernails drifting against her back all the way down.

"You'll have to do me in twenty if you keep that up," Sam grumbled, a pleasant and familiar warmth tickling through her hot body.

Sombra curled her fingers against Sam's side, techy nails delicately scraping her skin as she tugged Sam to her side.

"Evening, Sombra," Bethany greeted as they joined her and Lebreau on the family-room side of the island bar. Lebreau wore jeans, too, not as tight as Sombra's or Sam's leather pants, but fitted nicely. Lebreau's bikini top over her white ruffled sleeves revealed more than Bethany's simple green dress, but Sam still appreciated the way Bethany's dress dipped alluringly in the front, teasing her with that voluptuous bosom.

"Bethany," Sombra greeted warmly, her fingers dropping from Sam's side to step up to their friend and hug her in greeting. She kissed the top of her forehead affectionately, and then released her and turned to Lebreau. Sam eyeballed them as Sombra kissed her in a greeting as passionate as her own.

Maybe Bethany wouldn't mind giving up Lebreau tonight…

"How's work, Sombra?" Bethany asked, her tone friendly as Sombra returned to Sam's other side.

"Bit dull," Sombra reported, "Not very many interesting contracts of late. Just your usual array of blackmail, security breaches, network failures and so on. Although, the dark web has produced a number of promising assassination requests on various political figures since the Single Child law passed."

"Requests you are merely observing, I hope."

"Bethany," Sombra placed a wounded hand over her heart. "You know me better than that."

"Do I?" Bethany asked, hiking a skeptical eyebrow.

Sombra winked.

"Taking out any political leaders I ought to know about, Sombra, dear?" Jihl's voice floated over the music a second before she finally decided on a song and ventured to the group of them.

In a low cut, sleeveless red dress with a high slit up the leg and matching heels, despite being in her own house, Jihl looked incredible, too. Her dress clung to every curve, of which there were many, as she proudly sauntered over to them, perfectly aware of how gorgeous she was in every way.

All my friends are so fucking hot, Sam thought, not for the first time, and wondered how everyone in the room wasn't as bothered as she was.

"Nothing that will interfere with your recent promotion," Sombra assured, and Sam glanced up in surprise.

"They finally gave it to you?" she asked, though no one else seemed surprised in the least.

"Snooping through PSICOM's top security databases again, are you?" Jihl asked their tech-infused friend.

"Always."

"Well, congratulations, Jihl," Sam praised, to which Jihl smiled. "That's awesome. We should toast you. What have we got around here today?"

"I'll mix us something," Lebreau volunteered by default, going to the fridge to sort through the options before pulling out some fruit and vegetables.

"You look good," Bethany said to Jihl quietly, which seemed a curious compliment from the most reserved of the group besides Lightning, but Jihl didn't seem to find it odd and gave Bethany an appreciative glance.

"Fleet Admiral of PSICOM, hmm?" Sombra mused, idly moving the fingers of her left hand on some invisible interface only she could see through her tech-enhanced eyes. The nails glowed, painting pretty pink streaks through the air when her fingers danced. "Three promotions."

"I'll work alongside Dysley," Jihl confirmed.

"I'll reinforce your security," Sombra offered without needing to be asked. "And sweep the apartment for bugs today, run the usual precautions…" she trailed off, probably doing so already.

"You're a doll, Sombra," Jihl thanked.

"I know."

"Has there been any recent news about us on the skynet?" Sam asked her best friend, to which Sombra paused for the short beat of a heart, and then answered.

"A few scientific articles about the effects of nurturing us to success, two about me haunting the night, a few women singing your praises as a bedmate, another about city officials envying Jihl, some gossip intrigue over Bethany's sex life," she rattled off and Bethany blushed, "Some nonsense about Lightning, and a slew of grateful articles on Angela's cure for menstration pains among Cocoon women."

"Nonsense about Lightning?" Jihl questioned, and Sombra shrugged.

"The usual bullshit," she answered simply.

"Why do they gossip most about my sex life?" Bethany asked shyly.

"They do about Lightning's, too," Sam reassured her. "I've noticed it a lot among the women I've had. Half of them think Lebreau's mistreating you."

Bethany's cheeks paled. "What?"

"They think you make a cute couple and say Lebreau's unfaithful," Sam said with a shrug. "There's articles and forums about all of us, but aside from Angela, you're viewed as the angel among us. Angela's done more for Cocoon, but you're more nurturing and sweet. It's easy to get defensive over a good-hearted person. Besides," Sam added on afterthought, "You want babies and Lightning's got the only dick capable of giving you them in the world. Doesn't matter if she's fixed: people are going to romanticize you."

"People pair us?" Bethany asked in alarm. "That's so…"

"Hot?"

"Wrong," Bethany corrected, appalled, and even glanced at Jihl as if afraid the other Pulsian might attack her.

Jihl, however, didn't seem bothered as Lebreau began passing out the smoothies she had just cut up and blended together. Behind Sam, she heard the front door open. She gratefully took her drink from Lebreau with a mumbled thanks and turned towards it to see the last two of their party arrive.

Sam's eyes found Lightning stalking towards them in a full, skintight black uniform that highlighted her entire lithe body. Her champagne hair, more beautiful than any Sam had ever seen, fluttered out behind her as if carried on some nonexistent breeze. Her blue eyes blazing and direct, aimed upon their group, felt like she was staring straight into her. Sam's gaze traveled the length of her athletic and muscled body, so obviously corded and battle trained and perfect.

All too quickly, Jihl crossed into view, partially blocking Lightning. She began passionately kissing her girlfriend right in front of Sam, even eliciting a rare moan from Lightning while doing it.

Openly ogling, Sam craned her neck to keep Lightning in sight as much as possible and was rewarded when Lightning turned slightly, momentarily revealing herself in sideview just as the slight bulge at her crotch elongated against the skintight fabric of her bodysuit.

The smoothie fell from her limp fingers as Sam's breath caught. Thankfully, Sombra snatched it right out of the air before it could hit the ground or spill, but Sam barely even noticed. She stared, her imagination taking her places as Jihl quickly stepped in front of her girlfriend, concealing Lightning from view.

Beside her, Sombra placed her drink down on the bar and lifted a delicate finger under her chin to click her hanging jaw shut.

Still staring at the two who hadn't stopped kissing, Sam whimpered, "Sombra."

"One of these days, she'll attack you, you know."

"Lightning?" Sam asked hopefully.

Sombra chuckled and took Sam's hand in her own. "Jihl, you horny ass."

"You think?" Sam asked, still hopeful, and Sombra laughed.

"Come, Sam," she said and tugged her away. Sam turned her head, unable to stop watching them until Sombra had fully pulled her into the cleared family room and commanded her attention to shift.

Spinning Sam in front of her, Sombra slid up against her back, hands placed on the front of her thighs on her leather pants, the gentle brush of her nails hot. She began to move in tune to the music, grinding against her, and Sam released a breathy exhale.

"I'm not gonna last the night," Sam confessed as Sombra's body scraped against hers sensually in perfect rhythm to the music that had somehow been turned up. Were the lights dimmer too? Had Sombra done that? "Why is she so fucking hot?"

Sombra's amused chuckle sounded close to her ear.

"My lascivious Sam," she whispered, teasing.

"I don't even know what that means," Sam confessed. "But you're not helping."

Sombra chuckled again and kissed the side of her cheek over her shoulder. Sam turned her head to catch her lips as the two swayed together on the makeshift dance floor. Sombra's lips took her mind away from Lightning's glorious body, for which she was grateful.

"Oh, modern melodious gyrations!" A familiar voice interjected on their sensual moment, and Sam opened her eyes to narrow them at the incoming scientist.

Dressed in a plain white blouse and jeans with her lab coat still overtop of it, Angela was no different from the rest of them in terms of physical appeal. Her hair honey-blonde, her eyes purple like Sombra's, her face strikingly beautiful, she had the physical looks of an angel, true to her name.

But then she always had to go ruining it with nerd talk and a completely asexual interest in sex.

"She means dancing," Sombra translated, her breath hot in her ear.

"You dance?" Sam asked skeptically, keeping most of her attention on Sombra's movements against her body.

"Certainly not in this modus operandi."

"Style," Sombra helpfully supplied.

"But you've elicited my intrigue! What peculiar techniques you employ to cajole a potential mate into copulation. May I survey and contemplate this progression?"

Though Sam only grasped half of that, she gleaned Angela's intent to watch and study.

"You're such a voyeur, Angela," she grumbled.

"Join us," Sombra invited, lifting a hand off Sam's thigh to extend it to the scientist. "Treat it as a variable in your speculation of the social habitat," Sombra encouraged, and to Sam's surprise, Angela's eyes did seem to brighten.

"Oh, that's compelling, Sombra. But are you certain you do not mind my intrusion into this mating ritual?"

"Sam already knows she's getting some tonight," Sombra reassured. "And whatever way you want to frame it, I don't think she's about to pass up the opportunity to grind with you."

"I'm not," Sam seconded the statement, marveling at Sombra's cunning ways. "But take off the coat," she added, and Angela did so.

"As long as you're aware I am too preoccupied in urgent matters to accompany you in the final phase of this experiment," Angela cautioned, and Sam pulled out of Sombra's warm grasp to turn around and welcome in Angela. She found Sombra smiling with a beautiful light touching her eyes as she took Angela's hand.

"I dream it, but I wouldn't expect it," she said, causing the scientist to smile.

When Angela showed a general lack of knowledge in dancing, Sam took her other hand, and with Sombra, guided her in loosening up a little more. When she tried to emulate a slow, dirty dropping, Sam laughed and Angela grinned. The music changed to an upbeat song, much to Sombra's doing, Sam suspected, and Sombra took both Angela's hands as Bethany joined them and faced Sam.

Sam quirked a curious eyebrow at her, having never once taken the wholesome Pulsian with her to the club. "You know how to dance?"

"I'll learn," Bethany assured, glancing over to Sombra who laughingly guided Angela to the beat of the music. "Show me."

So Sam did. No novice to a dance floor herself, she stepped in close to Bethany and put her hands on the other Pulsian's hips, instructing her to relax.

"Dancing is like good sex. Just let it come to you. Flow with it," she said, at first directing her bodily movement at the hips, and then letting Bethany take it from there. To Sam's surprise, she adapted relatively quickly, much quicker than Angela who was still making Sombra grin outright, and although she didn't necessarily have any signature moves or was nearly as fluid as Sombra or Sam was, she did well.

Sam led them back over to Angela and Sombra where they danced through two more songs together, laughing on occasion or hooting when Sam or Sombra did something exceptional. Lebreau joined them on the third when Sam had Bethany held against her, dancing in a slightly less lewd manner than she had been with Sombra, but still close in a way Sam liked.

Lebreau smiled at the both of them and joined Angela in her less-than-finessed dancing. Sombra slid in-between them, twirling and dipping Angela out of sync to the music while laughing, then spinning on Lebreau and falling into perfect step back to the beat in a second flat. She navigated both of them seamlessly.

"You've picked this up well," Sam said, leaning over Bethany's shoulder so she could hear over the music.

Bethany glanced over her shoulder at Sam and smiled in a dazzling manner. "You're a good teacher, Sam," she complimented, her body teasingly scraping Sam's as they danced. Sam glanced down her front and caught sight of Bethany's pale, luscious breasts barely held in by the green dress as she swayed to the music…

Almost unconsciously, she lowered a hand from her friend's hip down to her curvaceous ass and cupped it.

Bethany's hand followed hers an instant after and took Sam's by the wrist. She dragged her hand back up to her hips with a reprimanding, "Sam."

Sam shook herself of the visual of Bethany's heavy bosom bouncing and the alluring touch of her ass.

"Right. Just checking," she played off, and Bethany actually laughed.

Lifting her eyes back up, Sam found Lebreau giving her a skeptical, arched eyebrow next to Sombra, who tilted her head at Sam.

"You gonna try that move with Lightning?" Sombra asked, and Sam's pulse did pick up a little just at the notion of cupping Lightning's fit little ass. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Uh… I really like this hand," Sam pointed out, and Sombra cackled. Both Bethany and Lebreau smiled, and even Angela hid a little one. Still, when their attention refocused elsewhere on Angela's ridiculous dance moves as she walked an imaginary shopping cart, Sam leaned over Bethany's shoulder again and apologized.

"Sorry 'bout that."

Bethany twirled a one eighty in tune to the music and smiled at her. "I forgive you, Sam. Besides," she said. Pulling in close, she leaned in and kissed Sam's cheek briefly, her warm lips hot on her skin. "You are a good dance partner."

Sam grinned. Migrating them closer to the others, she allowed Lebreau to snag a hold of Bethany and enjoy her new techniques. Another song passed before Sam realized that Jihl and Lightning had not yet rejoined them after disappearing into their bedroom.

Smiling privately, she led their small crew's dance circle into the next song and relaxed.