Chapter Text
Part 1
First Night in Boston
Darkness had settled over the city by the time Jean finished checking into the hotel. Her train to Boston had been delayed on the tracks, turning what should have been an early arrival that would have left her with more than enough time to walk around the city a little and take a shower before heading out to Sidney’s show, into a rushed and frustrating affair that had left Jean with barely enough time to get up to the room and change before she was forced to rush back out to catch a cab.
“Midway Café,” Jean stated distractedly, her attention partially on her phone as she slipped into the back of the cab.
Vagabond Hotel weren’t scheduled to play for another 30 minutes, which meant that if Google Maps was right, she’d get there just in time, but Jean had no idea how long it would take to get there in Boston traffic, and she didn’t want to miss any of the show.
As the cab pulled away from the curb and headed into the night, Jean leaned back making herself comfortable, knowing that there was nothing else she could do now. With her fate in the hands of her cab driver, Jean sighed softly and turned her attention back to the article she had been reading on her phone before the cab pulled up.
She’d read enough of the article while she was waiting for the cab to get the gist of it. A prominent female British MP presented an award to a trailblazing baroness, blah, blah, blah, very exciting for them both, Jean was sure, but her true focus was the MP, Charlotte Pierce, and the personal details the article might contain about her.
And so, as the cab conveyed her towards Sidney, Jean continued to scan the article, returning to stare at a picture of the MP thoughtfully a couple of times before she determined that the that the article didn’t have enough of what she was looking for and clicked back to her original search results, selecting the next link in the list.
---
Jean made it to the Midway Café with ten minutes to spare, and though she wasn’t consciously aware of being tense on the way to the venue, she felt herself relax as she pushed her way through the doors to the place and heard the band still tuning their instruments.
She hadn’t missed anything.
As had been the case since practically the day they met, Jean’s eyes instinctively found Sidney only moments after walking into the café, and almost as soon as Jean’s eyes settled on the brunette, Sidney looked up and over at her, smiling widely when she spotted Jean.
Jean smiled back, the residual tension in her body ebbing away as she drank in the sight of Sidney on stage, radiating confidence and mischief as she grinned at Jean in her ripped black jeans and denim jacket.
A noise from behind her distracted Sidney a couple moments later and she turned to look behind her, frowning before saying something that Jean couldn’t make out and then turning back towards Jean. Sidney shook her head with playful exasperation and then extended her thumb and little finger before making a tipping motion with her hand.
The gesture was pretty universal, and Jean nodded at her, conveying that request had been received before she gave Sidney a little wave and turned, making her way over to the bar.
Five minutes later, Jean approached the stage, two shots of fireball whiskey clutched in one hand and a glass of Evan Williams cradled in the other, and Sidney hopped down off of the stage to meet her.
“You had me worried,” Sidney whispered into Jean’s ear as Jean held out the shots for her.
“The train got delayed,” Jean breathed out, angling her head to the side so that she could kiss Sidney’s cheek. ”But you didn’t need to worry. Even if I’d had to smash an emergency window and hijack a car to get here, I’d have gotten here.”
“Yeah?” Sidney asked a little bashfully, looking over at Jean through her eyelashes.
“Yeah,” Jean confirmed.
“Is it wrong to find the idea of you committing multiple felonies to be with me, really fucking hot?” Sidney asked playfully, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding her shots to toy with Jean’s fingers.
“Do you really care?” Jean asked, arching an eyebrow at Sidney, who shook her head sheepishly and then laughed.
“Two shots, huh?” Sidney observed amusedly, glancing down at the small glasses held in her hand. “I thought you wanted to hear me sing, not slur.”
“Oh, I think I’d have to work a lot harder than two fireballs to achieve that. You could drink a sailor under the table,” Jean replied smiling, her expression caught somewhere between awe and incredulousness. “It’s a little scary actually. I mean, what do they put in the water in Manchester?” she asked, her tone playful, though her eyes were sharp, watching Sidney’s reaction to her mentioning Manchester carefully, catching the way Sidney blinked twice in rapid succession and drew back slightly before forcing herself to stop.
She was surprised by the reference, but was trying not to show it.
“Whiskey,” Sidney drawled with seeming ease as she leaned in to kiss Jean, “Lots of it … for taste,” she continued, winking impishly, her delivery impeccable though it came a few seconds too late to really be believable.
Sidney lifted one of the shot glasses in a pseudo-toast, and when Jean smiled at her, she downed it lavishly.
“What do you think?” Sidney asked, holding up the other shot contemplatively.
“I think I didn’t buy it to sit on a stool and look pretty,” Jean replied, arching a challenging eyebrow at Sidney.
“You’re right, that’s my job,” Sidney declared, mussing her hair a little before pouting her lips and posing prettily for Jean who laughed, and then leaned in to kiss Sidney’s lips.
When they parted, Sidney lifted the second shot glass and tossed it back, taking a little bow when Jean jokingly began to clap for her.
“Sid!”
Jean didn’t look behind Sidney, but the voice sounded like Francis’.
“Gotta go,” Sidney said, leaning in to kiss Jean quickly on the lips. “Enjoy the show. I’ve got a hell of an encore planned for you,” she continued, winking at Jean suggestively before hopping back up on the stage for a sound check.
---
Jean was two drinks in by the time the band actually started playing, and when the music reached her, it washed over her like a wave, carrying her away into another world. Beyond the doors of the Midway Café, the sky was dark and the air was cold, but as Jean stood in front of the stage, swaying side to side, Sidney’s voice filling her, warming her blood along with the bourbon coursing through her, as she gazed up at Sidney, who glowed – the white and orange lights set on her making her look like an angel – the world beyond the walls of the Midway Café faded away, taking the trials and troubles of real life away with it, leaving Jean, at least for the time being, tranquil and delightfully content, consumed by the Sidney experience.
---
The moment the first few notes of her song filled the air, Jean’s heart beat began to increase, and when Sidney gripped her mic stand and locked eyes with Jean, her gaze was like a caress, teasing over Jean’s skin, electrifying it as a deep, aching need began to pulse between her legs, leaving Jean breathless before the first word had even left Sidney’s lips.
When Sidney began to sing though, Jean was truly lost.
As she stood in the mass of bodies piled around the stage, her head tilted up at Sidney, watching her worshipfully, Jean thought about the effect Sidney had on her.
She was the Genie in Sidney’s song, but from her perspective, Sidney was the one with magic. Sidney was the one with the haunted, romantic eyes that had enthralled Jean and reeled her in. Sidney was the one with the husky voice and teasing words that resonated with Jean at just the right frequency, and in just the right way to make Jean tingle. Sidney was the one with the gentle touches and penetrating stare that cut through so many of Jean’s defenses like a hot knife through butter.
Sidney was addictive and intoxicating. Like the vapour sniffed by the oracles of old Greece and the hallucinogenic mushrooms eaten by Viking Berserkers, Sidney had opened Jean’s mind, made her world explode, and like those ancient addicts, Jean couldn’t go back to who or what she had been before her perception altering experience.
The vapours eventually killed the oracles.
The mushrooms eventually addled the minds of the Berserkers.
And Sidney could end up being just as deadly or disastrous for Jean.
But as sweat beaded her forehead, and her heart raced, her mind and body feeling light as air, Jean simply held Sidney’s eyes and smiled, giving herself over freely to the music and her woman, high and happy on her favorite drug.
---
Jean was by the bar, seeking refuge from the heat and press of bodies of the dance floor, when Sidney found her after the set.
“Come on,” Sidney whispered into her ear, taking Jean’s hand into her own.
“Where?” Jean asked, even though she was already following Sidney.
“I promised you an encore performance,” Sidney breathed out, a wicked smile touching her lips as she leaned into Jean, speaking into the blonde’s ear.
Instinctively, Jean turned towards the stage where the other members of Vagabond Hotel were taking apart their equipment.
“Not that kinda performance,” Sidney purred, drawing Jean’s attention away from the stage, and when Jean saw the look in her eyes, she grinned.
---
Jean thought they were heading towards the Midway’s washroom, and was more than a little relieved when Sidney actually led her to a back office that served as a green room for bands on nights when the café had live performances.
She spent the next twenty minutes spread out on a desk with Sidney’s hand down her pants, and Sidney’s lips on any skin they could find, kissing, and sucking and occasionally teasing hot breath against her ear as she sang filthy lyrics into Jean’s ear.
// Genie, my Genie,
My sexy fucking girl,
Wanna fuck you so good, Genie.
Rock your world.
Wet and whining, for my fingers, Genie
Deep inside you,
Fucking harder, faster,
Giving all my love to you
Good girl, Genie, pretty baby,
Keep riding my wood.
Gonna make you come,
So fucking hard, baby
That’s a promise, a fated truth
Make you see the stars, baby,
Supernova,
Le grande mort, ma chérie
And while you’re still twitching, Genie,
I’ll pump you more,
Give you three //
By the time they made it back out to the bar for a drink with the band, Jean’s panties were ruined, her limbs were weak, and her cheeks were flushed. She felt tingly, and light… free … happier and more relaxed than she had been in ages.
Sidney was right, that had been a hell of an encore.
“You couldn’t have helped us first?” Francis asked Sidney, Jean’s flushed face and her blissed out expression, leaving no doubt in his mind as to what had gone on when the two of them had disappeared after the set.
“Priorities, Francis,” Sidney drawled, smirking at them all as she pulled out a chair for Jean, earning herself an amused but tender smile from the blonde. “I’ve got mine sorted.”
“Nice to know where we fall in the hierarchy of things,” Francis drawled lightly, clearly not really offended that Sidney had ditched them to get laid. “If you want to make it up to us though, you could sort us out some drinks,” he suggested.
“Oh, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings Princess. But I will be redeemed … okay so, beer, beer,” Sidney began gesturing at Anton and Cody, before focusing her attention solely on Francis, “and, what, like a non-chilled white with one cube of ice, half normal measure, and a chilled tonic on the side?” Sidney continued, managing to keep a straight face throughout the order though her bandmates, Anton and Cody, started to chuckle halfway through.
“Fuck you,” Francis stated, holding up his middle finger at Sidney as he glared at her.
“Not unless you’re looking for a fight,” Jean retorted before Sidney could respond, drawing a smile to Sidney’s lips and laughter from around the table.
Francis looked over at Jean and held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender.
“Smart choice,” Sidney told him. “She fights dirty.” She added, snapping her teeth at him.
“No wonder you like her so much,” Francis replied, and Sidney simply nodded and then shrugged.
“By the way,” Francis began, turning towards Jean, “that order was for a friend.”
“So you keep saying, but I don’t … you know, I don’t remember seeing a friend turn up. Did either of you see a friend turn up that night?” Sidney asked, looking at the other band members, who shook their heads, Anton trying to hide his smile behind his hand while Cody was just openly amused like Sidney.
“You know she had an emergency,” Francis stated peevishly.
“What was it again?” Anton asked.
“I think she stubbed her toe really badly,” Cody offered.
“No, no, it was her half-sister's grandma's birthday,” Sidney said.
“Wasn’t it like acid poisoning from eating too many gherkins?” Anton asked, smirking.
“You know, now that I think about it, I think it was actually that Gotham City needed her,” Sidney said.
“Her brother-in-law had a surprise work thing and she had to babysit her nephew,” Francis declared standing up. “Also fuck all y’all. I’m going to get a drink … or five,” he muttered before heading towards the bar.
“He’s not gonna bring us any drinks, is he?” Sidney asked as she slipped into the chair next to Jean and threw her arm around Jean’s shoulders.
“Most excellent powers of deduction, Sid,” Cody commented.
“Well, I am British,” Sidney replied. “So, who’s gonna step up, boys?”
“Fine,” Anton sighed, pushing his chair back. “I’ll get them. Next rounds on you though,” he said, pointing a warning finger at Sidney. “What’ll it be?”
---
It was late by the time they made it back to the hotel, but Jean had put champagne on ice before she left earlier that evening, and after the heat of the club and their other exertions, a bath sounded divine.
Sidney dumped her duffle bag once they made it into the main part of the room and then began to explore as Jean divested herself of her jacket and then headed towards the mini fridge.
“Did you actually get chocolate covered strawberries?” Sidney asked curiously, making her way over to Jean and attempting to peer over the blonde’s shoulder.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jean promised, looking over her shoulder at the brunette. “Get the water ready, I’ll join you in a minute.”
“So mysterious,” Sidney whispered dramatically before backing away from Jean and heading over to her bag. “But you know I’m impatient,” Sidney continued, digging around in her bag for a moment before finding whatever it was she was looking for. “If you leave me there naked and waiting for too long, I will start without you.”
“That’s in no way a threat, you realize that, right?” Jean asked, turning around to eye Sidney hungrily as the brunette began to walk towards the bathroom.
“Oh,” Sidney murmured, biting down on her bottom lip, eyeing Jean contemplatively. “You’d like that, huh? To watch.”
“You’d like it too,” Jean stated confidently, meeting Sidney’s eyes.
“You’re sure about that?” Sidney asked, arching an eyebrow at the blonde.
Jean nodded.
“You like to perform,” she breathed out. “You like me. Stands to reason …” Jean continued before trailing off, her eyes drifting down from Sidney’s face until they settled between her legs.
Sidney breathed in and out deeply, Jean’s words affecting her the way she was certain the blonde wanted them too.
“We could … skip the bath, if you’re dying to find out the answer to your question,” Sidney suggested.
“Easy tiger,” Jean breathed out, even though Sidney’s eagerness was still as exciting to her as it had ever been. “You promised me bath-time and champagne. I want to collect,” Jean continued, smiling at Sidney gently before a teasing little gleam entered her eyes. “Besides, there’s plenty of time to explore auto-erotica tomorrow.”
Sidney exhaled deeply and closed her eyes as Jean’s words and the images they conjured up washed over her.
“Take longer than five minutes to get in that tub with me and I’ll be exploring it in the bath,” Sidney replied roughly.
“Oh, I have no intention of dawdling,” Jean replied. “I’m looking forward to seeing you glistening in a bath in-person.”
---
When Jean sashayed into the bathroom in a white fluffy robe, a bottle of champagne in one hand and bag of chocolate covered strawberries in her hands and two flues in the other, Sidney whistled and then bit down on her bottom lip before moaning, “God, you’re hot.”
“You stole my line,” Jean breathed out in response, giving herself a moment to openly appreciate the sight of Sidney laid out in the bathtub. “No bubbles?” Jean asked surprised, when she realized that she had a clear view of Sidney’s lithe body through the water.
“Mmm,” Sidney hummed as Jean moved closer to the tub. “I thought this might be more fun,” she continued, holding up a small pink and purple sphere. “Bath bomb,” Sidney explained when Jean looked at the object in her hand quizzically. “They named it after you.”
Jean laughed at that as she came to a stop in front of the bathroom counter, resting the flues and strawberries on the marbled surface.
“I find that hard to believe,” Jean commented, walking over to the tub, bottle of champagne still clutched in her hand.
“It’s true,” Sidney insisted, reaching over the edge of the tub to tug at the sash of Jean’s robe, eager to get it off of the blonde so that she could see all of her.
“Dr. Jean Holloway is a strange name for a bath product,” Jean observed, swatting Sidney’s hand away from her robe.
“Sex Bomb isn’t,” Sidney replied.
Jean couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips at that, even though she rolled her eyes and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe Sidney had said something so cheesy.
“You’re my sex bomb,” Sidney continued, reaching out for Jean again, this time resting her hand on the blonde’s thigh, rubbing her thumb over the smooth skin underneath it before she began to teasingly draw her fingers higher up Jean’s leg. “You know why?” Sidney asked, turning her head up to face Jean.
“Because I turn you on?” Jean breathed out, her eyelashes fluttering and her voice softening as Sidney’s fingers slipped beneath the bottom of her robe.
“Mm,” Sidney exhaled. “You know the route to go, to sex me slow,” she continued, smiling at Jean wickedly, drawing a small moan from the blonde, before Jean closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.
“Yeah, well, if you want that to be foreshadowing for the end of the night, you better stop quoting Tom Jones,” Jean told her, drawing a smile to Sidney’s lips as she stepped away from the brunette’s distractingly pleasurable touch, eager to get to popping the champagne so that she could finally get into the tub and against Sidney like she’d been thinking about all day.
“He’s not doing it for you?” Sidney asked amusedly as Jean busied herself with removing the foil over the neck and top of the champagne bottle.
“He’s not really my type,” Jean commented as her gaze shifted to, and then lingered on, Sidney’s chest, untwisting the wire cage over the cork momentarily forgotten.
“Too flat-chested?” Sidney asked, drawing a laugh from Jean as she placed a towel over the neck and cork.
“Is that shallow of me?” Jean asked as she began to twist the fat part of the bottle while pulling the bottle down in preparation of removing the cork.
“Terribly,” Sidney deadpanned. “I don’t know how you live with yourself.”
“Booze,” Jean replied without missing a beat, her words followed immediately by the soft-pop of the cork freeing itself. “Speaking of which …” Jean added, holding up the uncorked bottle proudly. “Wanna be terrible with me?” Jean asked, moving over to the counter where she had rested the flutes.
“Always,” Sidney replied softly, watching Jean fondly as she busied herself pouring.
---
“Careful,” Sidney breathed into Jean’s ear, before leaning down to press her lips against the blonde’s bare shoulder. “Edibles are dangerous. They take longer to kick in, but when they do, they do,” Sidney continued, emphasizing the last words for effect.
“They’re just so good,” Jean moaned, licking a little chocolate off of her thumb. “Take it away. You know I have trouble with self-regulation,” she continued, her eyes drifting back over to a Tupperware container of brownies resting on the edge of the tub, Sidney’s left hand holding the side of it to make sure it didn’t tip over.
“I know, it’s one of the things I like best about you,” Sidney replied, nipping at Jean’s neck playfully before jostling Jean’s body a little bit as she leaned over the edge of the tub to place the container on the floor next to her discarded champagne flute.
Jean smiled at Sidney’s words, but as Sidney settled against the wall of the tub again, Jean was quiet, thinking.
“I’d like to know more about you,” Jean said softly, resting her head on Sidney’s shoulder.
“I’m an open book,” Sidney replied, her tone a little more guarded than before despite her words.
“Yeah, right,” Jean scoffed, looking up at Sidney incredulously.
“Didn’t we just spend like three hours hanging out with my friends?” Sidney asked.
“We did,” Jean acknowledged. “The band, your job, your music, they’re all things that I know about you,” she continued, “but there are a lot of things I don’t know about you ... and I’d like to.”
“Things like?” Sidney prompted.
“I don’t know, family stuff,” Jean replied.
“Well, I for sure don’t have a husband and kid stashed away in Connecticut, if that’s what you mean,” Sidney said lightly, running her fingers through the pink water the bath bomb she’d deployed earlier had created.
“So they’re in Jersey, then?” Jean teased as she captured Sidney’s skimming hand and took hold of it.
“Ha ha,” Sidney muttered. “Attempts at humor aside,” she continued, making Jean’s body vibrate against hers as the blonde laughed, “Going into Newark is worth it for Dinosaur BBQ. They’ve got this, just fucking killer Portuguese bread, and the ribs,” Sidney moaned. “They taste almost as good as you.”
“They should come with a warning then,” Jean purred.
“You should have come with a warning,” Sidney breathed out.
“Would you have listened to it?” Jean asked.
“Have you met me?” Sidney asked, playfully incredulous, before leaning in to press her lips against Jean’s.
“What’s your mother’s name?” Jean asked when their lips parted, not swayed from her interrogation by Sidney’s sweet lips and talented tongue.
“Charlie,” Sidney sighed resignedly. “Charlotte.”
Jean nodded her head, and then was quiet for a moment.
The name matched the information she had gathered.
Sidney was being honest with her so far.
“Do you talk much?” Jean murmured.
Sidney’s shoulders lifted and fell in shrug.
“Not much,” she answered softly. “Charlie worked a lot, you know, when I was a kid,” Sidney continued, her fingers playing with the water in front of her again. “And after my dad’s fuck up’s, she worked even more. Was focused on cleansing her public image. The important stuff. So, I saw even less of her. And now, we don’t know how to talk to each other, so we don’t.”
Jean skimmed her fingers across the surface of the pink water, moving them towards Sidney’s until she was able to lace their fingers together.
“Your dad. What did he do?” Jean asked softly.
Sidney sighed heavily, wearily, her body tense against Jean’s back.
“Whatever it was,” Jean breathed out, lifting their joined hands up so that she could place a kiss to the back of Sidney’s hand, “the shame isn’t yours to bear. But if —”
“Misappropriation of funds, and other robber baron shit,” Sidney interjected before she lost her nerve. “White collar fuckery.”
“Hmm,” Jean hummed, already aware of what Sidney’s father had done from the research she had conducted, but wanting to appear as if she were contemplating the revelation for the first time. “Makes more sense now,” she eventually murmured, and Sidney tensed again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the brunette asked, clearly having taken offense to Jean’s words.
“You had your theories about me,” Jean replied calmly, shifting slightly in Sidney’s arms so that she could press a kiss against her neck. “Did you think I didn’t have any about you?”
“I guess I kinda didn’t,” Sidney admitted, her brows creasing slightly. “Never thought I was being all that mysterious.”
“You don’t live like a barista,” Jean pointed out.
“No?” Sidney asked, arching an eyebrow at the blonde.
“Bushwick’s fucking expensive,” Jean replied, adjusting herself again so that she could see Sidney’s face. “And you live in that loft, alone. You wear five hundred dollar headphones, and have a two thousand dollar laptop. You skip shifts constantly, despite claiming you need the job for rent money. And your friends mentioned you having ‘champagne problems’ just like them.”
Sidney let out a semi-amused huff of air before shaking her head and then smiling at Jean bemusedly. Credit where credit was due she supposed. Jean had been paying attention to everything since they had met, just like she had been.
“Does it make a difference?” Sidney asked a few moments later. “That I’m the trust fund baby of a convicted felon?”
“No, ” Jean replied, a touch of indignance in her voice. “Of course not,” she added, though her expression was less convincing than her words.
“You should tell that to your face,” Sidney muttered, darkly. “Something is bothering you.”
Jean shrugged lightly, aiming for nonchalance but not quite achieving it.
“It’s not really … I mean, things are complicated with us, and my Allison and Tom problems, it’s a lot, I know. And, that trust fund would make it a lot easier for you to jump across the pond on me, if it all becomes too much, too difficult,” Jean murmured, momentarily seized by thoughts of just how much she was risking to continue her relationship with Sidney.
Sidney was silent for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around the heights of audacity Jean so effortlessly ascended to, over and over again.
“Are you having a fucking laugh?” Sidney huffed incredulously. “Things have already gotten difficult, things have gotten super-fucked, and I’m still here,” she continued. “I’m not the one who’s torn. I’m all in on you. I’ve been all in from day one. I’m committed...”
“So am I,” Jean interrupted, halting Sidney’s diatribe. “I wouldn’t be here, in Boston, in a bathtub with you if I wasn’t.”
Sidney shook her head to herself for a moment, before finally sighing, “This,” she waved her hand around, “is spectral. A ghost of a commitment. It could be gone in a moment. You hid having a whole ass fucking family from me. I only learned your real name a month ago. And you didn’t even want me to. The only time I met someone remotely important to you, it was so that I could lie to your husband about you fucking me at your secret apartment. But you’re worried about me taking off on you? For fucking real?” Sidney finished, frustration clear in her voice as she made a move to get up to leave the tub.
“Don’t,” Jean said immediately, wrapping her arms around Sidney to stop her leaving their warm oasis. “Please. I’m sorry. I just … I’m afraid of losing you. Of losing this,” Jean continued, pressing her lips against Sidney’s throat before nuzzling into the nook of her neck when Sidney settled back down in the tub. “The way I feel when I’m with you … the thought of living without it again is terrifying,” Jean whispered, lifting her head to meet Sidney’s eyes.
“Then let me be a bigger part of your life,” Sidney replied, voice earnest and eyes beseeching. “I want to know you.”
“Baby,” Jean sighed softly, her lips parting to remind Sidney of the delicate balance they had to walk, but Sidney spoke before she could continue.
“No, Jean. Listen,” Sidney insisted. “Michael already knows about our friendship . You said he told you that you should be ashamed of yourself for playing games with me. So, tell him that you took his words to heart. That you confessed your sins to me, and I forgave you. Tell him you’re trying to work on making our friendship healthier,” she continued, speaking quickly, trying to get her thoughts out before Jean dismissed the possibility of her actually being able to be more involved in Jean’s life.
“Let me get to know them. Like, have me over for dinner at the house,” Sidney went on. “And me and you can take Dolly on day trips to the zoo, or the planetarium, or whatever. I could give you ‘music lessons’,” she continued, “when Michael’s at work. And post-crescendo, we could like, pick up Dolly from school, and go for ice-cream and shit. We can have cocktails on your patio while you complain about your coworkers. If Michael believes we’re really friends, if he knows where you are and who you’re with, he’ll relax and not be up your ass all the time. Having sleepovers at mine’ll be so much easier. After all, crashing at your besties after a night on the town and too much bourbon is a healthy, responsible, adult thing to do. It could be so good, babe. Please, just think about it.”
“Alright,” Jean breathed out, her voice a little distant as she got lost in contemplation. “I’ll think about it. I promise,” she continued, snuggling up against Sidney as she warmed more and more to the idea as a world of exciting possibilities began to swirl in her head.
“Okay,” the brunette murmured, her voice soft, pleased. She could see that Jean really was considering what she said, and not being dismissed out of hand, made her feel better about where they were as lovers, and where they might be going. “Thank you,” she added, pressing a kiss to Jean’s shoulder. “We should get out of the tub, though,” Sidney continued, changing the subject now that they had reached some kind of resolution about her desire to be a bigger part of Jean’s daily life. “I wanna break in that king-size, but I’m not fucking a prune.”
Jean laughed at that as Sidney climbed out of the tub, glad for the subject change, and the invitation to bed.
“Help me dry off?” Jean asked, taking the hand Sidney held out to her once the brunette was steady on her feet.
“Try and stop me,” Sidney purred, drawing Jean into a big bear hug and tickling her playfully before reaching for one of the hotel's very white, very fluffy towels, eager to start drying Jean off so that they could move to the bed and she could get Jean wet all over again.