Yes. I realize that it's been months since I updated. I have no excuse. Well actually I have about a thousand of them, but you guys probably don't care.
So this is Jess-heavy, but I felt like it was needed after how I ended the last chapter. I so very much hope that how I deal with this doesn't disappoint.
It's late, and not at all busy in the Hut, so I don't feel bad about the fact that I'm currently lounging on a sofa, drawing soft circles on Erin's leg, trying to get her attention as she works on a spreadsheet for work. Although from what I can see, it looks mind numbingly boring and she should be glad for the distraction. I know I need one. I haven't had a customer in twenty minutes or so; my last one was a tired looking nurse on her way to work the night shift and I don't really expect any others at this late hour.
I'd taken Kate's advice and said 'hi' a few weeks earlier, swallowing down my fear and for once making the first move. While I'm not prepared to say that my newfound relationship is the real thing, or something that is gonna last, I can at the very least admit that we've been having a lot of fun. She's introduced me to parts of the city I never knew existed and I've done my best to include her into my somewhat secluded life.
I've only seriously dated one other woman - my roommate in college - and that had ended spectacularly bad after a year of what I had thought had been relationship bliss; an explosive mixture of our friendship turning sour, jealously over a former flame, and a heavy dose of confusion on my part.
My love life since has consisted of fits and starts. A man I thought had been a keeper turned out to be married, a series of one night stands with both men and women were destined never to go anywhere, and all of this was punctuated by a philandering husband who didn't know a good thing when he had it. To say that I was gun-shy when it came to romance was an understatement.
So we've taken it slow, only kissing for the first time a week ago. She took me by surprise next to The River in the sculpture garden of MOMA, the sun low in the sky; trees had been rustling and the fountains gurgling. "She's beautiful," I'd said, in relation to the figured resting precariously over the water. "You're beautiful," she'd replied, turning to face me and gently laying her lips over mine.
"Erin?" I say, breaking the peaceful silence inside the cafe, knowing it's almost time for the early morning shift to start and that I should begin cleaning up before my employees arrive. They'd most likely revolt at the chaos I've left behind on the counter. "You about ready to go home?"
She smiles, shifting in her seat and blinking, breaking out of the spell her work had trapped her in. "Yeah, sure. Lemme straighten up here. You need a hand with the mess?"
She grins and I can feel myself blushing. An innocent hot chocolate offer had somehow turned into a whipped cream fight and though we'd done our best immediately post moment of childishness, our good intentions had been put on hold when her eyes had darkened and I'd lead her to my office for a spontaneous make out session. Hot and bothered was the least of what I had been feeling when the bell over the door had rung, announcing the presence of some late night revellers. It had quickly doused any notions I might have had of testing the comfort of my office chair for activities a little more strenuous than paperwork.
"I need a hand with things other than dairy residue," I say, raising an eyebrow. "And soon."
She quickly goes about clearing up papers and shutting down her laptop. "Thank god," she laughs, "There's only so much patience a girl can have. Do you know how hard it was to concentrate on quarterly reports while you were busy sashaying around this place with a button undone and your hair all mussed up and sexy?"
I run a smoothing hand over my hair and check my shirt. Yep. I seem to have forgotten a button in my haste to get back to work.
"Sashaying?" I ask. "Really?"
"There was a definite strut," she says, standing up and turning away to grab her backpack. "I'd almost call it cavorting."
I'll show her cavorting.
I grab her as she turns back around, grasping onto the short blonde hairs at the back of her head and bringing her mouth down over mine. She moans and I deepen the kiss, drawing her upper lip into my mouth with my teeth. A hand wraps itself around my waist and I feel it as she sinks a little, knees becoming weak, succumbing to my so-called 'cavorting'.
Who needs to clean anyway? I think, as another hand comes to lazily roam my chest, a deft finger tracing the seam of my bra. Isn't that what I pay people for?
The melodious tinkle of the bell above the door rings just then and I curse its shiny brass perkiness, contemplating tearing it off the trim and throwing it into the Hudson on the way home. Damn it! I quickly pull away, breaking of the kiss and again rearranging my hair.
"Oh come on, tell me what he said!"
Fuck. I know that voice.
"Not a chance. I already told you; it's classified."
Higher pitched and smug. I know that voice too.
"Oh, my god," he exclaims then, and I know that they've seen what I was up to just moments prior.
"Jess!" she calls. And then quieter. "I knew it."
"Rick… Kate." I greet them, turning around, feeling the heat flaming all the way to the tips of my ears. "Hi?"
Kate laughs and immediately strides toward us while Rick stays, still standing by the door, jaw open and lips moving but not a syllable leaving his usually exuberant mouth.
Erin grabs her laptop and purse, and kisses my cheek. "This feels like something you probably need to explain to them?" she asks quietly into my ear.
"Uh…yeah," I stumble over my words.
Erin and I have only briefly broached the subject of my sexuality and the awkwardness I feel trying to define it. I feel it's nobody's business and if I can't even explain it to myself, how am I supposed to explain it somebody else? Man, woman? I like who I like and am generally awful at relationships no matter what the gender.
On the other hand, Erin is strictly attracted to girls and is most certainly out of the closet. She has no confusion, no shame, and certainly no qualms about telling people where to go if they question who she is or what she does with her life. It's one of the things that drew me to her, that sense of self and certainty- the lack of fear. But it's also one of the points that I worry might be our undoing. I know that I've hurt her on occasion in the past few weeks with my reticence to define what we are to friends and acquaintances. Suddenly, this moment feels like a test. If I can't come clean with one of my oldest and dearest friends, then what chance do I have of ever being comfortable telling others?
"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, blue eyes boring into mine, a spark of hurt already forming behind the gentle affection that always shines through when she looks at me.
"I… No." I answer, certain that I definitely do not want her to leave. I feel like if she leaves it might be the last time I see her. On the other hand, Rick is not reacting how I expected he would once I finally told him. He's one of the most open-minded people I know and the look of vague hurt on his face is confusing as hell. "How about you grab a rag and work on that little mess we made while I talk to Rick and Kate for a moment?"
I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze, hoping that she can see the plea in my face, that she can read it as a need for some privacy as I break the news to Rick who, though, he's finally started moving toward me, still looks a little shell-shocked.
That it's not an appeal for her to leave.
"Stay," I say. "This shouldn't take too long."
She nods, and makes her way behind the counter, picking up a rag and giving me an encouraging smile before busying herself with the cleanup.
I turn to face the pair and Kate shifts quickly, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the sofa so she can pull me down beside her. "Is that who I think it is?" she asks. "The girl I told you to…"
"Don't you dare give me an 'I told you so'," I say grinning. "But yeah, I took your advice. Thanks, by the way."
She smiles, all smug and pleased with herself and I take it upon myself to bring her down a peg as Rick slumps into the chair beside us.
"Maybe one day you'll take some of mine, huh?" I send a meaningful look Rick's way.
"Jess!" she hisses, glaring at me.
"So… what's new?" I ask, knowing that there's no way it's gonna fly considering what they just witnessed, but I need to break the ice.
Rick blinks, shaking his head and coming out of his vacant stare. "Oh no you don't, Jessica," he says, a hint of a smirk beginning to quiver around his lips.
It eases my mind. He's not mad or disgusted, and he's definitely perked up now that I've given him an opening.
"No way," he continues. "Care to share what I just witnessed? Because last I checked, you were most certainly single. In fact, if I remember correctly, you were eyeing my ruggedly handsome face not so long ago." He waves his hands about in Erin's general direction, the confusion still evident on his face. "When did this happen?"
Ah, and now it's becoming clear. His hesitation isn't over the fact that Erin is a woman. It's an ego thing. This, I can deal with; the ridiculous man.
"Rick," I say gently with just a touch of sarcasm, "I can assure you that in no way, shape or form did our brief encounter, almost two decades ago might I add, have any influence over my choice to date woman. Rest assured; your reputation is safe."
"That's not what I…"
I raise an eyebrow and he stops mid-sentence.
"Okay, so the thought might have crossed my mind for a second."
I raise the other.
"Okay, for a little more than a second. It's just; it's a bit of a shock. I never knew that you, err, swung that way?"
I laugh, and he eases back into his chair, becoming more comfortable as we talk. I'm glad. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have his friendship.
"Generally I don't," I shrug. "But what are you gonna do, you know?"
And really, what am I to do? I can't control who I'm attracted to. It's at times like this I wish I could. Life would be a whole lot easier if I could just stick to the expected norms of society. I feel the beginnings of tears pricking my eyes and I quickly blink them away.
"Hey… Jess," he says, leaning forward and squeezing my knee. "I'm happy for you. Really."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he confirms, looking over toward Erin who is humming while she swings a bottle of Windex, the container dangling from a finger as she polishes the pastry display. "Look at her," he says with enthusiasm. "She's hot!"
"Castle!" Kate pipes up from beside me.
"Rick!" I growl, kicking his shin with a heel-encased foot.
"Ouch," he cries. "I get enough abuse from her! I don't need you impaling me with those shoes as well."
"So play nice." I smile, happy that things seem to be returning to normal with minimal drama. "And really, tell me what's new with you two? Isn't it a little late at night for a coffee date?"
"It's not a date," Kate quickly interrupts.
Rick, surprisingly, doesn't take the bait. But it's all he needs to go into a long-winded tail involving the CIA, conspiracies, aliens, and the like. I zone out sometime around the part where he's rambling about Kate being his real-life Scully, nagging and refuting all his theories, that he's a down-trodden Mulder just looking for a little acceptance.
"Keep it up," I say, "and I'll be your Diana Fowley, selling you out to Cancer Man for an unscheduled lobotomy."
Kate snorts. "Nice one," she mutters.
That manages to pull him up short for a second, and he shoots me a dirty look, but quickly he resumes his tale while Kate and I share an eye roll.
"You think he'll be done soon?" I ask Kate while he continues on.
"Not likely," she replies with a smirk, and we continue to nod politely and wait for him to finish. After a bit of whining about Kate refusing to share what the CIA agent told her, he's finally done.
"Best. Case. Ever." He concludes with a happy grin.
God, he's such a dork.
"So, is that a hickey?" I ask, sneering, pointing to the dappled skin on his neck that's had my attention since sometime around his mini-rant regarding the painful erosion of the X-File's myth arc.
Whatever the hell a myth arc is.
"Did you not hear a word I just said?" he whines.
"It's not a hickey," Kate chimes in vehemently at the same time. A little too vehemently. I turn to face her, and oh, joy of joys, I notice that she has an identical blemish. It's been expertly covered by a dab of concealer and more than a little foundation, but it's still as plain as day.
"Oh, and a matching one over here," I croon. "So, are they? Hickeys, I mean? Anything you two wanna tell me?"
"Shut up," Kate grouses.
"I wish," Rick laments. "It was the injectors."
The what now? Obviously I missed something in his story. Because while I'm totally gonna give them shit for the 'hickeys', I also know that they are almost certainly not hickeys. Not at the glacial pace that these two move.
"Tit for tat, Jess," he grins then, pointing in my direction. "Ours may not be, but yours unquestionably is."
Mine? My what? I reach up to where he's pointing near my collar bone and oh… yeah there's definitely a little bruising going on there. Damn it, I'm gonna kill her!
"Erin!"
Show me some love?
Many thanks to Avi for the ass-kicking and Kylie for the beta.