Author's Note: A Don't Blink side story. Sarah/Josie ficlet set after Share This Secret For A Chance on the Deveright timeline.
Unbetaed. All mistakes are my own.
Play It Good and Right
This is a state of grace.
This is the worthwhile fight.
Love is a ruthless game
unless you play it good and right.
These are the hands of fate.
You're my Achilles heel.
This is the golden age
of something good and right and real.
~State of Grace, Taylor Swift
"What am I doing?" Sarah laments, collapsing back onto her bed and pressing a clammy palm to her forehead.
"Is that rhetorical?" comes the familiar voice on the other end of the phone currently pressed to her ear. "Because I thought you were getting ready for your date with the gorgeous, successful lawyer."
"Don't remind me," Sarah mutters, feeling anxiety twist her stomach into knots all over again. Josie is supposed to be here to pick her up in less than an hour for their outing, and Sarah had almost called her twice already to cancel. Instead, she'd called Hannah, her best friend since elementary school, to stop her from chickening out.
"My gosh, Sarah Jane. To hear you talk, someone would think this is the worst thing in the world that could happen to you. You know, I still have that picture you sent me of Josie in the bicycle pants, and I have to tell you, hun, if I was into women even the tiniest little bit, I'd be taking that one out for a nice, long ride."
Sarah frowns at the insinuation, not liking the imagery despite the fact that Hannah is just about the most heterosexual woman that she's ever known—and very happily engaged to a wonderful man. "You know why I have reservations about this," she reminds Hannah, letting her hand fall limply onto the mattress.
Hannah has already heard the entire list of reasons why Sarah shouldn't even consider dating Josie Deveraux. Josie is everything that Sarah shouldn't want—an outgoing, athletic theater fan who loves to dance and has a tattoo! It's an admittedly sexy tattoo, but it's still a tattoo. Sarah is neither athletic nor much of a dancer, she's a self-admitted introvert, and her opinion on the theater, especially theater of the musical variety, hasn't exactly been a popular one in the past.
The fact that Josie is so much more extroverted than anyone Sarah has ever attempted to date in the past is more than a little intimidating, but what really has Sarah hesitating is the fact that all of Josie's family is entrenched in Boston, and most of her friends can be found scattered between Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, and Eastern Pennsylvania. Her roots are even more deeply embedded in east coast soil than Quinn's had been, and that can only lead to more heartbreak for Sarah down the line.
And, of course, there's the not-so-little stumbling block of Josie's friendship with Quinn—Sarah's ex. Sure, Sarah and Quinn have made some progress at reestablishing a friendship of their own, but they don't exactly hang out, and when they do see one another, it's still a little awkward in light of Quinn's current relationship with Rachel fucking Berry.
How can Sarah dating Josie be anything but awkward for all of them?
There's an audible sigh from Hannah. "I know, but it's not like you're planning to marry the woman. Why shouldn't you go out and have a little fun?"
It's a perfectly reasonable question. Sarah doesn't actually want to spend the next two years living like a hermit just because she isn't planning to settle down in this city permanently, but there's a little voice in her head that keeps whispering that Josie isn't just some woman she can have a little fun with.
For as much as Josie is everything that Sarah shouldn't want, she also possesses a whole lot of really amazing qualities that Sarah admires. She's compassionate, intelligent, patient (most of the time), and honest, occasionally to a fault—which might be considered kind of odd for a lawyer. She's also gorgeous and incredibly sexy—not that Sarah is typically swayed solely by physical attributes, but she's got two eyes in her head with 20/20 vision and an undeniable appreciation for aesthetics.
Josie is also what Hannah would consider fun, but—
"I've never been particularly good at fun," Sarah admits sadly.
The closest she's ever come was the summer she'd spent working for her aunt in Saugatuck, and that was mostly because a blonde named Bailey had tripped Sarah up and sent her tumbling face first into the realization that she's gay. Bailey had been fun too—confident and gorgeous and patient with Sarah—and Sarah had been too young and too confused to think much about the fact that Bailey was never going to be one half of a permanent relationship. Even so, saying goodbye to her at the end of the summer had been hard, and Sarah had been left to mourn the loss of what they had shared in the short time they'd been together.
Just like she had with Ashley (who'd dumped her one semester into college), and—God—Quinn (who'd she'd let go because she knew she'd never come first), and Emily (who didn't think their arrangement was worth keeping up once Sarah left New Haven). The idea of doing that all over again with Josie—
She doesn't even want to think about it.
"That's bull-cucky," Hannah chides, "pardon my French. You're loads of fun, Sarah, and I'm sure Josie would agree with me. So get out there and ride that redhead."
Sarah barks out a laugh, shaking her head. "You've got such a dirty mind for someone who never swears. Why am I even friends with you?"
"Because you need someone to remind you how awesome you are…and push you to get off your cute backside and out into the big, exciting world."
Sarah smiles a little sadly, closing her eyes. "I really wish you were here."
"Hmm," Hannah hums in her ear. "You know, usually you say that the other way around. I guess this Josie has really got you confuzzled, huh?"
Sarah sucks in a sharp breath, realizing that Hannah is right. She does usually say that she wishes she was there—in Michigan. "I haven't changed my opinion on New York, if that's what you're getting at."
"Of course not," Hannah agrees a little too cheerfully, "but at least you're finding a few…ah…hobbies to enjoy while you're there."
"Is that what we're calling it?" Sarah asks wryly, pushing herself up unto a sitting position.
"Yep. Now…on to more important topics. What are you wearing for your date?"
Sarah glances down at her body. "Um…jeans and a button down."
"Oh, Sarah," Hannah murmurs. "Honey, no. Go change. Right now."
Sarah frowns. "It's a nice button down," she argues, running her fingers over the lightweight, turquoise shirt.
"I'm sure it is, but the jeans have got to go. It's a date, for heaven's sake."
"A casual date," Sarah insists. "Josie told me to dress comfortably."
"Can't you be comfortable in something else? Maybe a nice pair of slacks or Capris or something? I know you own dressier clothes. You can't be wearing jeans to work."
"I'm not," Sarah concedes, running a palm over the soft denim self-consciously, "but I think Josie knew what she was getting when she asked me out." Even so, Sarah finds herself getting up off the bed and padding over to her small closet to absently browse through her dress slacks while Hannah continues to talk.
"I suppose you're probably right," Hannah offers, sighing. "I was just trying to help you knock her socks off…and any other article of clothing you might want to knock off later."
Sarah's hand stills on a pair of tan Capris and her face heats at the image that appears unbidden in her mind, crafted as it is on the memory of Josie's body in a sports bra and skin-tight bike shorts—that vibrant tattoo on full display.
"I…I don't think I'm ready for that," she denies quickly, "but maybe I will change into something a little cooler. It's pretty warm here today."
"And you'll call me as soon as you get home?" Hannah urges. "Because I want to hear all about what your lady lawyer has planned for you….the G-Rated version anyway."
Sarah rolls her eyes at that. "I doubt there'll be any other version, Hannah." It is only their first date after all.
"I guess we'll find out," Hannah muses slyly. "Good luck, Sarah."
"Thanks, Han," Sarah says before they bid each other goodbye and disconnect the call.
She tosses her phone onto the bed before she toes off her shoes and unzips her jeans, pushing them down over her hips and stepping out of them. She reaches for the Capris, pulling them off the hanger before sliding them on, and then she retrieves a pair of simple, white deck shoes from the bottom of her closet to replace her sneakers before walking over to the mirror to examine her reflection. The new outfit is still casual, but she supposes it is a little more flattering and—well, date-like.
And on that note, Sarah doesn't think that her beloved messenger bag is really date appropriate, and unfortunately, these pants aren't nearly as compatible with her cellphone, the slim wallet she carries, and her keys as her jeans are, so she's stuck with the one small purse that she actually owns for occasions just like this. She stuffs her meager belongings inside, and then she takes them out again to try her pockets anyway, only to frown because—no—that really doesn't work. She's forced to go back to the purse again, making sure the strap is long enough to be comfortable when it's slung across her body in the same manner she likes to wear her messenger bag.
When her phone starts buzzing, Sarah digs it back out of the purse to see Josie's number flashing on the screen, and her stomach drops. The first thought in her head is that Josie has changed her mind and is going to be the one to cancel their date. Sarah isn't all that surprised by how upset the thought makes her.
Answering the call, Sarah offers a hesitant, "Hello."
"Hi, Sarah," Josie greets her warmly. "Are you ready? Because I'm kind of double parked in front of your building…at least I think it's your building...and I don't know if I should leave my car here for more than a minute or two so I can come up and properly collect you like a chivalrous date should."
Eyes widening, Sarah finally looks at the clock. "Oh," she breathes, rushing into her roommate's bedroom. They have a corner apartment, and Erika (who is currently at the hospital where she works as a nurse) happens to have the front-facing window. Glancing down at the street, Sarah does indeed see a stylish, black BMW double parked with its flashers on. "You're a little early," she points out needlessly.
"It's a bad habit," Josie admits, humor in her voice. "You'll get used to it. So should I come up?"
"No. I'm ready," Sarah tells her, taking a breath for courage. "I'll just come down."
Disconnecting the call, Sarah makes sure the apartment door is locked behind her before she flies down the stairwell to meet Josie. Her steps falter slightly when she reaches the street and sees Josie out and standing in front of her car with a warm smile, her eyes traveling over Sarah with obvious appreciation. Sarah can't deny that she's doing the same thing as she takes in the scoop-necked, olive Henley, with enough open buttons to tease the world with a tantalizing glimpse of Josie's cleavage. It's tucked neatly into white shorts that fit Josie perfectly, showing off her long, muscular legs.
Sarah swallows down a giggle at the errant thought that Josie isn't actually wearing very many clothes for Sarah to knock off, sure that her cheeks must be bright pink right now. Hannah would be having a good laugh if she was here.
With a grin on her lips, Josie takes a step forward, meeting Sarah by the passenger door. "Hi, stranger," she jokes, blue eyes sparkling with good-humor as she envelops Sarah in a brief, chaste hug. Sarah hugs her back, though she can't help feeling a lance of guilt at the reminder that it's been a few weeks since they've seen one another. She'd been purposely avoiding Josie in her misguided attempt to ignore the attraction between them.
"Hi," she responds as she steps back, shoving her hands into her pockets in a nervous habit that she's never quite been able to kick. "You, um…you look…really good," she says, blushing even more at her typical ineloquence.
"Thanks. So do you," Josie responds with a smile, letting her eyes roam over Sarah once again. "That color is perfect on you, Sarah," she compliments.
"Thank you," Sarah echoes back, pushing her hands deeper into her pockets and averting her gaze to the pavement.
Josie's shadow moves around Sarah' feet before her gaze lifts to find Josie holding open her car door with a smile. "Shall we?"
Sarah bites her lip, nodding, before she slides onto the leather seat. She shifts her purse into a comfortable position and reaches for her seatbelt as Josie gently closes the door behind her, and then she watches Josie jog around the car to the driver's side, checking for traffic before she gets in.
"Nice car," Sarah comments when the engine purrs to life and the touchscreen lights up, showing off dozens of luxury add-ons and gadgets. She tends to forget that Josie comes from a wealthy family until something like this car reminds her.
Josie flashes a grin in her direction. "Thanks. It's pretty high up on the list of environmentally friendly models."
Sarah can't help smiling at that. The fact that Josie cares about those things is one of the reasons Sarah lo—likes her so much.
"So where are we going anyway?" Sarah asks. When Josie had called her to finalize a time, she'd only told Sarah to dress comfortably and wear decent walking shoes, but when Sarah had asked her what they'd be doing, Josie had told her she'd have to wait and see.
Josie spares a quick glance to Sarah as she maneuvers the car through Queens and towards the parkway. "You'll see," she teases. "But I think you'll like it. At least I hope you will, and if you don't," she shrugs, "I'm sure we can find something else that we'll enjoy."
Sarah doesn't doubt it—she enjoys Josie's company no matter the setting. She'd even enjoyed biking the greenway despite her general unathleticism. It's one of the many reasons that she's been reluctant to acknowledge the attraction she feels to Josie, because if this doesn't work out, she could potentially end up losing one of the few friends she has in this city outside of her workplace—or at least irrevocably changing the nature of their friendship into something more awkward than Sarah's normal awkward.
"I guess I'll have to trust you," Sarah muses as she gazes out the windows, trying to figure out what direction they're headed at least.
"You can, you know," Josie promises softly with her own eyes dutifully on the road. "Trust me," she adds in a way that almost makes it seem like a hopeful plea, and Sarah is struck again by the quiet vulnerability that occasionally appears around the edges of Josie's typical confidence.
"Yeah, I know," Sarah murmurs, sneaking a peek at Josie's profile to see the soft, content smile on her lips.
"So…tell me more about that restoration you're working on," Josie says after a moment.
Sarah smiles, feeling her excitement about the project bubble to the surface and into words—happy to talk about the plans to rehabilitate the old Hotel Keller. To her credit, Josie listens with interest, chiming in to ask questions and make comments as she drives them into Manhattan.
They've been talking for a good twenty minutes when Sarah notices the road signs for the George Washington Bridge, and she frowns. "We're not going to Jersey, are we?" she asks, glancing at Josie.
"Not today," Josie answers with a laugh, "but for future knowledge, do you have something against New Jersey?"
"No," Sarah answers, drawing out the word. "I'm just trying to figure out where you're taking me."
Josie glances her way with a grin. "We're almost there," she promises, and soon enough she's taking an exit for 181st Street and following signs for Fort Tryon Park.
"The Cloisters," Sarah realizes delightedly.
Josie nods. "You mentioned that you hadn't had the chance to visit yet," she says, referring to the offhanded comment Sarah had made when they'd passed by the grounds on the bike trail. "I thought we could spend the afternoon exploring the museum, maybe walk through the park a little before I take you to dinner. How does that sound?"
A shy smile pulls at Sarah's lips. She's tickled that Josie would remember the single remark that Sarah had made about The Cloisters being on her list of landmarks to eventually visit and had actually planned their first date around it.
"It's perfect," she responds, blushing when Josie sends another smile her way and catches her staring.
"I'm glad you approve."
Biting her lip, Sarah turns her attention to their surroundings as Josie drives through Fort Tryon Park on the way to the medieval-styled building and surrounding gardens that serves as a branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her leg bounces in anticipation as they claim a space in one of the surrounding parking areas, and she's so glad that she'd charged her phone battery before Josie had picked her up. As much as she enjoys looking at art, it's the architecture of the museum itself that she's most eager to see up close and in person.
Sarah is out of the car the moment Josie kills the engine, and Josie shakes her head in equal parts amusement and exasperation as she gets out of the driver's seat. "No need to rush. It's open until five fifteen," she informs Sarah with a teasing smile.
"And it's already after one. You really should have picked me up first thing this morning," Sarah fires back.
Laughing, Josie holds up her hands in mock surrender. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."
The thought of next time when they're still at the beginning of this time has Sarah's stomach dancing with butterflies—but there's art and architecture and history to be explored now, so she ignores her nerves and reaches for Josie's hand, clasping it firmly, much to Josie's surprise. "Let's go. We're losing daylight."
With a happy laugh, Josie nods, squeezing Sarah's fingers as they begin to walk. The feeling of their hands seamlessly curled together causes a warmth to blossom inside of Sarah that has nothing to do with the perfect spring day, and she bites into her lip to keep from smiling too widely.
The grounds themselves are lovely—a peaceful, secluded haven at the edge of the city—and the museum rises up from the surrounding trees like a castle, thrusting its visitors back in time. Sarah feels giddy just looking at it from here. It's neither an exact reconstruction nor a completely original design but a perfect marriage of the two, incorporating salvaged pieces of five French abbeys into a new structure by Charles Collens.
Sarah's phone is out and set to the camera function almost as soon as they start walking. Josie indulges her with a grin every time she stops to snap a few photos, pausing to examine the brickwork more closely while other people pass them by with puzzled expressions on their faces. Sarah is used to getting those looks from people when she stops to admire things that they just don't consider interesting, but she feels a little guilty for subjecting Josie to them. Strangely enough, Josie doesn't seem to mind much.
When they finally arrive at the entrance, Josie already has the tickets that she'd obviously preordered for them out and ready to be presented, and Sarah grins at the evidence of Josie's secret penchant for meticulous preparation. It's a good quality for a lawyer to have, after all, but at first glance, Josie seems like a free spirit—Sarah might have uncharitably thought of her as a bit of a flake back at Yale based in large part on her Anthropology major and her blasé attitude about most things—and in many ways, Josie absolutely is spontaneous and laid back ninety percent of the time, but she's also the woman who'd sat for the New York bar exam in addition to Massachusetts just in case and passed them both with apparent ease. It's an odd dichotomy that Sarah finds herself undeniably drawn to.
Once they're inside the museum, Sarah takes a moment to simply absorb the atmosphere. The interior only adds to the sense of being inside a medieval abbey. While Sarah can't say that she's ever been overly religious, she can certainly appreciate the imagery present in both the architecture and art. That feeling of being transported in time is even more pronounced in here—despite the very modern patrons in their shorts and flip flops with smart phones out as they discreetly snap pictures of their surroundings.
Sarah would love the opportunity to have this place all to herself for a few hours. (She may or may not also be entertaining some of her adolescent fantasies involving leather pants, chainmail, and a sword strapped to her side. Josie could be her damsel in distress—who would probably kick her ass for even daring to imagine her as a damsel in distress.)
Josie stays close enough to be within speaking range as she lets her own attention wander around the exhibition. Sarah appreciates that she doesn't try to rush her through the rooms or hover too close to her side and attempt to analyze every piece they encounter. There is conversation though—about the museum in general and the art and a surprising number of personal anecdotes peppered in whenever a particular thing inspires them.
They spend quite awhile admiring the famed unicorn tapestries, but instead of discussing what the imagery might mean or what order they were actually meant to be hung in, Sarah learns that Josie has Shel Silverstein's poem, The Unicorn, mostly memorized, and Sarah has to stifle her giggles as Josie very seriously recites some of it as they move from tapestry to tapestry.
Eventually, they make their way outside onto the Bonnefont Cloister to explore the gardens. Josie's hand slips back inside of Sarah's as they stand on the patio and take in the view of the nearby Hudson River through the trees.
"It's really beautiful," Sarah admits, forgetting for a moment that New York City exists in the other direction.
"Yeah, it is," Josie agrees, but when Sarah turns to look at her, she finds that Josie's gaze is solely on her.
Drawing in a breath, Sarah ducks her head and lifts a hand to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're supposed to be admiring the view," she chastises self-consciously.
"I am," Josie insists with a soft smile.
Sarah imagines her face is probably a nice shade red right now. Her first instinct is to brush off the compliment. She's never been very good at accepting them, and a part of her can't help wondering what Josie actually sees in her when there are dozens of attractive men and women who would jump at the chance for a date. But there's another part of Sarah that's delighted by the attention, and she makes a conscious decision to focus on that for a change.
"You're really not holding back that Deveraux charm anymore, are you?" Sarah muses.
Josie's light laughter tickles Sarah's ears. "So you think I'm charming," she challenges playfully, leaning closer.
Sarah moistens her lips, gazing into clear, blue eyes that almost sparkle in the sunlight. "Charming enough to get me here," she admits.
Josie's mouth slowly curves into a smile. "I'm really glad you said yes," she murmurs softly, those eyes searching hers.
Sarah's heartrate picks up. "I'm glad I did too," she confesses just as softly.
Josie's gaze dips down to Sarah's lips, and Sarah's stomach swirls with nervous anticipation, certain that Josie is going to lean forward and kiss her now. But then there's a burst of childish laughter from several feet away as a young boy chases his brother around the garden before being scolded by his father, and the interruption forcibly jerks them out of the moment. Sarah feels the weight of disappointment settle over her when she realizes just how badly she'd wanted that kiss—enough that she'd forgotten that they're far from alone out here.
Josie clears her throat and smiles at Sarah. "So…do you want to walk around the museum some more? Or are you ready to grab some dinner?"
Glancing at her watch, Sarah realizes that they've been here over three hours already, and since she'd skipped lunch courtesy of her nervous stomach, she's suddenly aware of just how hungry she is. They've managed to explore just about every nook and cranny of The Cloisters except for the surrounding park, but, "We can always come back in the future." Sarah doesn't miss the way Josie's smile widens at the prospect. Suppressing her own smile, Sarah decides, "I want to see what you have planned next."
Josie squeezes her hand, grinning. "Oh, I have a lot of plans for you, Sarah," she promises a little impishly, making Sarah's stomach flip, "but first, I thought I'd take you to Le Chéile. It's this amazing, vegetarian friendly Irish Pub that I found not long after I moved here," she shares, adjusting her hold on Sarah's hand and wordlessly urging her into motion.
"Sounds good. I'm starved," Sarah confesses, matching Josie's pace as they make their way back through the museum, though she does pull Josie to a stop a time or two as she pauses to snap some more pictures.
Soon enough, they're back at Josie's car, where Josie once again makes sure to hold the door open for Sarah. Usually, Sarah finds that she's the one doing things like that out of sheer politeness, so to be on the receiving end of Josie's good, old-fashioned courtesy is a little strange to be honest. Strange, but nice.
It turns out the restaurant isn't very far from Fort Tryon Park—only about a ten minute drive with traffic—and Josie manages to find a parking space on the street just a block away. Le Chéile (and the spelling on the signage looks nothing like Josie's pronunciation of Leh Kayla) occupies a corner building, and the brickwork is painted fuchsia with blue trimmed windows. Sarah is a little skeptical about the color scheme, but Josie seems excited to share the place, so she's willing to give it a try.
The colors extend inside to a degree, but they're toned down by the dark wood bar and tables and the dozens of pictures lining every inch of the walls. It doesn't exactly thrill Sarah's sense of aesthetics, but the delicious mix of savory scents filling the air does a whole lot to make up for that. If the food tastes as good as it smells, she'll be very happy. She even kind of likes the lively Irish music currently filling the restaurant.
They're led up a fuchsia stairwell to the upstairs dining area with its dim lighting and neat rows of tables set with candles. Upon opening the menu, Sarah discovers that they have a wide variety of foods to choose from—from traditional Irish fare to burgers and sandwiches to the typical American staples like salmon, chicken, and steak. And yes, there's a section of vegetarian options and a sandwich called the vegan. The place seems to have all of its bases covered.
"I know it's not much to look at, but the food is delicious," Josie promises.
"I don't know. There's a certain charm to it," Sarah concedes, glancing around. The eclectic décor is kind of growing on her. "I bet this place is packed on St. Patrick's Day."
"Oh, it is," Josie agrees with the confidence of someone who has firsthand knowledge. "But not just on St. Patty's Day. They have live music in the backroom after five and occasionally some open mic nights." She chuckles when she notices Sarah's mild frown at the mention of the open mic. "Mainly Irish folksongs. There's not a lot of Broadway here," she explains knowingly.
Sarah somehow doubts that would stop someone like Rachel Berry from commandeering the microphone and belting out a few show tunes. She really hopes she'll never have to find out. "How often do you come here?" Sarah asks curiously.
"Not often, really," Josie answers with a shrug as she peruses her menu. "This is only my fifth time since I stumbled over it in November."
"So…about once a month," Sarah determines with a wry smile.
"No," Josie denies with a grin. "I totally skipped January."
Shaking her head, Sarah turns her attention back to the menu, debating between the grilled chicken and the salmon; although the Irish stew is tempting being that this is an Irish pub. When their waitress arrives, Josie orders the spaghetti Louise with a Guinness, and Sarah finally decides on the grilled chicken with a salad and a glass of the house white wine. She's never really had much of a taste for beer.
"So now I'm wondering," Sarah begins once the waitress collects their menus and leaves, "I always thought Deveraux was French, but you could definitely pass for having an Irish heritage."
"What would possibly make you think that?" Josie asks in amusement, idly twirling a strand of red hair around her finger.
Sarah laughs. "Oh, I don't know…maybe it's your Irish eyes."
Josie leans forward with a playful grin, elbows on the table. "Are they smiling?"
"They usually are," Sarah admits with a blush.
"Probably because they're looking at you," Josie explains without missing a beat, and yeah—Sarah walked right into that one.
"That was kind of cheesy," she accuses, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
Josie's rich laughter rings out over the music. "Well, I do love cheese," she admits as the waitress returns with their drinks, setting them down on the table. Josie reaches for her mug, taking a sip of the amber liquid, and Sarah decides to do the same with her wine.
"To answer your question," Josie says after setting her drink back down, "Deveraux does have French origins since the first clan was originally from Normandy, but it's technically an English surname, and a branch of the family did end up migrating to Ireland. And, you know, my mother's maiden name was Kelley, so there's that," she adds with a smirk.
Sarah runs her tongue across her lips as she contemplates the information, tasting the sweet remnants of her wine. "Why do I have the feeling someone in your family did one of those genealogy studies?" she asks after a moment.
Josie laughs again, nodding. "My mom," she reveals, rolling her eyes indulgently. "She and my grandmother had one done for the Kelley side of the family when she was still in highschool, so of course, she felt duty bound to complete one for my dad's family when she married into it."
"I actually think that's pretty awesome," Sarah tells her, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. "I mean, it is your family history."
Josie's smile softens, and she cocks her head to the side as she studies Sarah with a thoughtful expression. "You and my mother would probably get along famously," she murmurs, almost to herself, before shaking her head. Sarah might wonder whether or not that's a good thing if she didn't know that Josie loves her mother dearly, eccentricities and all—even though a moment later Josie is laughing and waving her hand dismissively. "You know, except for the whole crazy event planner thing she has going on."
"I imagine your birthday and graduation parties were epic, in any case," Sarah offers.
Josie nods. "Yeah. They were. But now she's a little too eager to start planning my engagement party and wedding."
Sarah sucks in a breath, nearly choking on it. She exhales a whispery, "Oh," before reaching for her wine.
Josie laughs. "My hypothetical engagement and wedding. Really, Sarah," she scolds mischievously, "this is only our first date."
A nervous laugh slips out around the rim of Sarah's wine glass as she lowers it. "I knew that," she insists. "I'm just surprised she'd be thinking about that already when you…I mean…you're single."
"For now," Josie acknowledges. "Technically," she qualifies with a pointed look that practically steals Sarah's breath once again.
There's a silent promise in Josie's expression that belies the innocent words, and Sarah's fears and insecurities begin to bubble back to the surface. The idea of Josie's mother getting along with Sarah or being eager to plan a wedding only makes Sarah remember that whatever relationship she might be beginning with Josie right now probably has an expiration date. She doesn't want to think about it, but it's always there in the back of her mind nevertheless.
Josie seems to sense Sarah's discomfort, so she laughs off her own words. "But Charlotte Deveraux is nothing if not ridiculously over-prepared for any and every social event."
The waitress returns then with Sarah's salad, and Sarah is grateful for the distraction. Thankfully, Josie changes the subject with a safe comment about how good the salad looks and how she should have ordered one for herself. Sarah politely offers her a taste, which Josie accepts, reaching across the table to take a forkful—and okay, maybe sharing their food isn't actually all that safe after all. Still, it offers a springboard onto other subjects when Sarah muses out loud that, as much as she enjoys vegetables, she can't imagine adopting a vegetarian diet the way Josie has, and that has Josie launching into a discourse on the health benefits and the numerous meat substitutes that are almost as good as the real thing. Sarah highly doubts that could possibly be true.
She thoroughly enjoys her chicken breast, but Josie's pasta looks and smells incredible, so when Josie returns the favor of offering a taste, Sarah accepts, humming in pleasure as she savors the zesty garlic and olive oil based sauce. They both pass on dessert, but they linger for a while longer over drinks and conversation, and when the bill comes, Josie is quick to snag it.
"I invited you," she reminds Sarah with a smile. "And this is a date."
An amazing date, Sarah amends silently.
They've been together half the day, but the time has flown by so quickly, and Sarah finds that she isn't quite ready for it to end yet. She has a feeling that's going to be a reoccurring sentiment with Josie, and she thinks again that Hannah was wrong—Josie is going to end up being so much more than someone Sarah can have a little fun with or take for a ride or any other other euphemisms for a casual relationship.
When they exit the restaurant, Sarah starts to turn in the direction of Josie's car, but Josie catches her hand and stops her, grinning when Sarah looks at her questioningly. "It's such a nice evening. Why don't we take a little walk to work off some of our dinner?"
Sarah doesn't think that Josie really has to worry about working off a few extra calories—her body is perfect—but since she's not in a hurry to see their date come to an end, and Josie obviously isn't either, Sarah says, "Okay."
This part of Washington Heights isn't much to look at really, mostly non-descript apartment buildings with some shops at street level, but it is a nice evening—warm with a mild breeze, and the sun is beginning to dip down close to the horizon. Josie's hand feels so good in hers as they walk down 181st Street. The road soon begins to curve, and a small bit of the Hudson River comes into view, making the scenery suddenly more appealing. Near the end of the next block, the street splits into two divided one-way sections with trees planted in the center plaza, and as they walk past it toward Riverside Drive, the Hudson River comes fully into view, complete with the tree-lined New Jersey shore and the majestic George Washington Bridge stretching over to it.
"Wow," Sarah breathes in appreciation as she takes in the sight.
"I thought you might like the view from here," Josie comments, squeezing her hand.
"You thought right," Sarah admits with a smile, wondering if Josie had purposely planned them to be right here in front of this spectacular view at sunset. Knowing her, she probably had.
"Come on. Let's cross over," Josie urges, careful to check Riverside Drive for traffic before leading Sarah across to a tiny observation deck right there at the intersection of 181st Street. With Washington Heights now mostly at their backs, they're standing in one of those spots (much like The Cloisters had been) that can almost make Sarah forget that she's still in New York City.
The orange glow of the setting sun is dancing over the trees and reflecting off the water, and Sarah feels a sense of tranquility settle over her. She can almost imagine that she's back in Michigan—if not for the traffic flowing nonstop over the bridge. In any case, the bridge is a magnificent piece of engineering with a beauty all its own.
Giving into her curiosity, Sarah braces a hand against the concrete wall in front of them, glancing down the short drop to the roadway below. She's not sure what the name of the road is, but there's a walking path along the side of it that's lined with treetops rising up from the hillside beyond. Sarah ducks her head down further, studying the outside of the wall they're standing behind and noticing the markings in the concrete that make it obvious there used to be a stairway here that lead down to the road.
"They took out the stairs and put in a pedestrian walkway over the highway," Josie says knowingly, and Sarah leans back to look at her, a little surprised that she's so attuned to her thoughts. "But they left the upper landing intact, and now it makes a nice little lookout point," she finishes with a grin.
Sarah returns the grin before she glances down Riverside Drive to see that the footbridge isn't very far from where they are now, and it connects to the walking path that runs along the road below them. "Does that lead down to Fort Washington Park?" she asks, looking back at Josie. They'd briefly stopped there on their bike outing to see the Little Red Lighthouse.
"Yeah," Josie verifies with a nod. "We can walk down if you want."
"In a bit," Sarah decides. "I think I'd like to stay here for a few more minutes." The view is flawless, and so is the company, and, surprisingly enough, there's currently no one else around other than a few walkers down on the path below them.
"We can stay as long as you like," Josie promises with a soft smile.
Sarah can feel the perfection of the moment settle over them—the brilliance of the sun dipping under the horizon, the breeze off the water, ruffling golden tipped waves and sweeping through Josie's hair, and the warmth of Josie's hand almost matching the warmth of her smile. Sarah is hardly what anyone would consider a romantic, but if ever there was a perfect moment for Josie to kiss her, it would be now.
Josie's lips pull into that same slow smile that she'd worn at the Bonnefont Cloister just before they'd been interrupted—which is when Sarah realizes that she's staring at Josie's mouth. Blushing, Sarah lifts her gaze to find Josie watching her intently.
Sarah instinctively shuffles closer, hardly realizing that she's done it, and Josie draws in a breath, her eyes darkening. "I really want to kiss you," she murmurs—the request for permission is clear in her voice.
"I think I really want you to," Sarah confesses a little breathlessly. Maybe it's not the wisest decision when she's still worrying about all the ways this could blow up in her face, but for this single moment in time, she doesn't much care.
Her words are all it takes for Josie to close the small distance that remains between them. The hand that's been holding Sarah's hand shifts, changing position so Josie can entwine their fingers together, and Josie's other hand flutters at Sarah's waist, tentatively curving over her hip in the lightest of touches. And then she's leaning forward to hesitantly brush her lips over Sarah's mouth in a sweet, innocent kiss that's only slightly more substantial than the one they'd shared on New Year's Eve.
Sarah's stomach dips and swirls pleasantly at the contact, and her free hand twitches, lifting aimlessly—completely undecided as to whether it wants to curl around Josie's waist or cup the back of her neck to keep her mouth right where it is forever. In Sarah's indecision, Josie pulls back from the kiss, gazing down at her with questioning eyes.
The only answer Sarah gives is to lift her hand and thread her fingers into thick, red hair, urging Josie back to her and kissing her without an ounce of hesitation. The nimble fingers curved at Sarah's waist curl into a belt loop and tug Sarah closer while Josie's talented (oh, sweet lord is it ever talented!) mouth presses more confidently against hers, offering her a tantalizing taste of what Josie could accomplish with it if they weren't in a public place.
Sarah can't remember the last time she'd been kissed this way. She doesn't think she's ever been kissed this way—by a gorgeous woman under a dazzling sunset with a perfect view in front of them. Even if this does end up leading her into yet another heartbreak somewhere down the road, Sarah wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
Oh, she's so, so screwed.
When Josie finally abandons her lips, it's to grin down at Sarah with sparkling eyes. "I've been wanting to do that since New Year's Eve," she admits unabashedly.
Sarah moistens her lips, feeling embarrassingly hot all over and a little bit dizzy. Her hand slips away from the nape of Josie's neck, falling to rest on the curve of her hip instead. "I thought you were just observing tradition that night."
Josie smiles an endearingly crooked grin. "I might have fibbed a little. I thought you were adorable, and I wanted to kiss you," she confesses with a shrug. "Midnight was the perfect excuse."
"And there I was, thinking you were so honest and sincere," Sarah manages to joke.
"I am," Josie insists, lifting her hand from Sarah's waist to gently brush back a stubborn strand of brown hair that's currently being teased mercilessly by the wind. "Mostly, anyway," she qualifies, her smile widening. "But I am a lawyer. We're pretty good at finding those loopholes."
Sarah laughs and shakes her head. "And arguing your case apparently."
"What can I say? I like to win," Josie tells her, trailing the backs of her fingers over Sarah's cheek, "especially when I believe in what I'm fighting for."
And yeah—Sarah is so very, very screwed. She doesn't think there's any way to stop herself from falling hard for this woman.
"We should…um…head down to the park," she suggests, taking a deliberate step back in a vain attempt to slow this back down, though one hand stays firmly entwined with Josie's. "I'd like to see the lighthouse again."
Josie only looks a little bit disappointed as she lets her hand fall back to her side, quickly covering it with her familiar, easy smile. "Of course. Whatever you want," she promises as they turn for the street.
Sarah's emotions are dancing all over the place, and she still doesn't know what the hell she's doing. Her desire to see where this thing with Josie could go is still very much at war with her fear of how it will eventually, almost certainly end, but maybe—if it means having Josie for even just a little while—Sarah can learn how to enjoy today and worry about tomorrow when it comes.