Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sarah Christ did not believe she was an inherently good person. She believed that she was helpful, at least in the past when she was still a detective. She tried to be of assistance to those less fortunate than herself, she stood up for women that couldn't do it themselves, she advocated for vulnerable people and tried her best to make her community a little bit safer before she grew too fixated on a singular killer and fucked it all up. She lost sight of things that mattered, and she learned at the same time that some of the things that seemed to matter for the longest time meant nothing to her at all. She blew up her life, her marriage, her career, even her relationship with her daughter in some effort to gain control of the narrative she'd been spun into by her own obsessive need to prove to everyone, maybe just to herself, that she was a good person. Eventually, she gave up. She accepted it couldn't be true, looking at the ruin she'd left behind. She saw it when she looked in the mirror, too, the way she didn't trust her own reflection. The weariness and exhaustion showed in the crease between her eyebrows, a constant reminder that she'd worried so much she physically changed. The weight of everything she'd seen and everyone she'd let down pulled at her uncomfortably, like something that needed to be beaten away constantly with any variety of vices. Alcohol was always a constant, cigarettes gave her something to do with her mouth besides just muttering to herself, anchoring her as they rested between her index and middle finger. After her husband finally left, she found that women took the edge off better than anything. 

She knew that she wasn't particularly kind in how she went about her favorite pastime, long gone from her job as a detective and living somewhere nobody knew her. She used the newfound anonymity as a cloak, only known at her current local haunts as someone with a taste for vodka, coffee, and women who didn't care much for talking. Having a reputation wasn't a concern to her anymore, and she didn't care that some individuals sought her out just because they heard a whisper somewhere that she was cold and hard to handle like a dagger cased in ice. Those types thought her demeanor was a sort of challenge, like one of them would really be able to succeed in melting her, getting to her edge rather than their own, but they all learned soon enough. Sometimes she was drawn to somebody, purely out of physical attraction or a memory of someone she loved once, and they enjoyed her attention until they got scared or otherwise uninterested. She didn't take issue with being perceived as scary; women needed to be smart, and consistently sleeping with someone who kept secrets and acted callously wasn't very savvy. She always let them go easily, never pressing them to trust her. It was foolish for them to do so in the first place, because she was always liable to change, always liable to disappear, and always liable to ruin something good by being too damaged. She was an experience, a one or two or five night stand, a crush that became an enemy once you actually got close enough to touch, and that was fine. She didn't have the energy anymore to pretend she was okay, and she didn't wish to seem fulfilled or proud of herself anymore. She just was . No amount of curiosity or affection or competitive stubbornness could shake her away from herself. She was a smattering of burrs on an old fleece blanket, left alone and forgotten somewhere nobody wanted to look.

These reasons, among many others, were why Sarah was growing increasingly irritated with the woman who kept looking at her without just coming over to say something. She was staring, actually, and Sarah found it incredibly rude. This woman, her slightly messy bobbed hair frustratingly cute and her expression unreadable, sat in the corner of the bar nursing a beer as her eyes lingered. Sarah could tell from where she sat that she had big, pretty eyes, too, and that annoyed her for some reason as well. She looked a little too sweet to be staring as long as she was, like she was the one plotting. Sarah attracted younger women, sure, but there was a certain desperation, a certain type of makeup, a certain tight dress with too-high heels for the types of bars she liked that seemed to always come along with the women who picked her. They wanted to feel something a little dangerous, something unknown and dark and strange, and she could provide that without needing to think about why she liked it. When she was choosing, things were a little different, but not too much. Maybe the woman would be dressed in low-rise jeans and cropped tee, or maybe a miniskirt and a tank top with her bra showing and a hickey already on her neck, but there was always long hair for Sarah to wrap in her fist and always some stupidly sticky lipgloss or over-applied body shimmer or obnoxiously cupcakey perfume that lingered too much and made her remember that some people still liked to have real, true fun. This rude, staring woman, though, didn't fit any of the usual profiles. She was sure if she went to one of the less-than-forty remaining lesbian bars left in the entirety of the country she might find a handful of her, young with that 'what if a Disney prince was a girl' type of look, so beautiful it would feel wrong to offer her a cigarette unless you saw her smoking first but not clean-cut enough to iron her clothes, but this wasn't that type of place. It was selfish of Sarah, in a way, to let herself stick out the way she did, knowing that women who visited the bar under some sort of pretense would drop it for a chance with her, but she couldn't bring herself to care as much as she probably should. It wasn't her fault they all ended up wanting things she couldn't give, or that they didn't take her at face value when she warned them she wasn't nice. She wasn't sure if she was ever nice, but she used to at least be careful with women, how she treated them, how she made them feel. Now, she pitied them. She pitied them for wanting her, and she pitied them for being naive enough to try to unlock a version of her that didn't exist anymore, if it ever had. 

"Another?" the bartender asked, snapping Sarah from her ruminations. She wasn't sure what time it was, but it wasn't time to go home yet. She didn't dislike the place she lived, and she didn't love it, either. It was perfect in case she got too bored and wanted to leave the city without anything tying her down. She was already getting tired of her routine, and of herself, so perhaps that was what drove her to make eye contact with the brunette in the corner again after nodding at the bartender. 

The woman smiled slightly, but she didn't come over. She just kept staring with her dumb, pretty eyes. Sarah went back to ignoring her once her new drink arrived, sipping it for a while before picking up her glass and carrying it out to the designated smoking area. 

"Did you follow me out here?"

Sarah looked down, rolling her eyes at the shorter woman. Of course it was her, and of course she was smug.

"I didn't do shit. I didn't even notice you got up," Sarah said, lighting her cigarette as though her unwanted company could hear her annoyance in the way she flicked her lighter. 

"Aw, that sucks. I was trying to get your attention.”

She looked up at Sarah, batting her lashes in a way that felt incongruent with her outfit and the raspiness of her voice. Everything about her was throwing Sarah more with each passing moment, and it was pissing her off to the point it almost felt good. 

"By staring at me like a weirdo?" Sarah asked, leaning back against the wall. “Pretty stupid technique.”

"Usually works," the younger woman shrugged, and she didn't sound like she was joking. 

"Yeah, on college girls, I'm sure," Sarah deadpanned. 

"I'm not a college girl," the stranger said. "And I don't like them much, either."

"Listen, kid, I'm not going to flirt with you just because you're doing a whole banter thing," Sarah said, pausing for a drag. 

"Wow, 'kid'...aren't you so big and tough?" 

The words prodded at her, unexpected and intriguing. Sarah decided to ignore the latter assessment. 

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, narrowing her eyes. 

"I don't mind a bully, but I'm definitely not a kid."

She didn’t even sound defensive, just sure of herself and ego-forward. Sarah wondered where this woman came from and how she could send her back.

"I don't literally think you're a kid, young lady , but you're bugging me," Sarah said, taking a long swig from her glass. 

"Oh, I'm not much of a lady, either. I have terrible manners," the woman said, unphased. 

"I can tell," Sarah said, hating how she was nearly entertained by this idiotic behavior. Nearly, but she wasn't. "What am I supposed to call you, then, hm?"

"See? You want to keep talking to me.”

"Sure, long enough to tell you to fuck off and leave me alone,” Sarah said. She pushed down the fact that she felt more awake than she had in days, possibly weeks, with another sip of her drink.

"You're the one who came outside with your drink and everything. Looking to stay with me a while?" 

" God ," Sarah groaned, her cigarette between her lips again. She was completely relentless.

"Not my name, but you can call me that if you want,” her clearly undeterred non-acquaintance teased. 

"It's actually closer to my name, anyway," Sarah said, unsure now if she was genuinely amused or if this was just a change from her usual back-and-forths at the bar. Maybe the boredom and the liquor were hitting harder than usual tonight, or maybe the consistent lack of sleep was making her fray in some way that let little, irritating strangers sneak past her usual fence.

“What’s yours, then? Hm?”

Even the way she smoked her cigarette was infuriating, her lips pouty and perfect as she blew ‘o’s as though Sarah would be impressed by something so juvenile. 

“You tell me first, or I’m going back inside,” Sarah said.

“You’re acting like you’re not having fun talking to me.”

The woman poked out her bottom lip just slightly, like she knew she was already parodying herself. The way she was acting cocky and nonchalant one moment then needy and coy the next made Sarah's mind hum, and she didn't like it.

“I’m not talking to you, you’re talking and I’m trying to get you to stop,” Sarah said, trying not to sound like it mattered either way. She didn't want it to, regardless of the urge in the back of her mind to push this gall-filled girl against the wall and shut her up properly. 

“Whatever,” she grinned, her teeth too white for her smoking habit and her eye contact much too strong. “I’m Bet.”

“Like…gambling?” Sarah asked. 

“No, like ‘I can't stand that my name is fucking Bethany’,” Bet responded, rolling her eyes. 

“Could have just gone with ‘Beth’,” Sarah said, putting her cigarette out in the nearest ashtray. 

“Gross, do I seriously look like a ‘Beth’ to you?” Bet asked, seemingly offended for the first time during the exchange. 

“Honestly? No, but I could tell you’d hate that,” Sarah said, the corner of her mouth twitching just slightly. 

“You look familiar, by the way. That’s why I was staring at first,” Bet pivoted. “Plus, you’re hot. And now I know you’re mean, too,” she continued. 

“So, you’ll finally leave me alone?” Sarah asked, holding back a dry chuckle as Bet bit her lip and shook her head. Sarah felt reminded of the way a cat would knock a glass off of the counter while staring straight at you.

“Not until you tell me your name,” Bet said, still smiling.

“I’m Sarah Christ.”

Bet blinked up at her, then laughed. 

“Oh, now I get it,” she said, putting her own cigarette out. “'God', 'Christ'…That's pretty good. You really want me to leave you alone now, or should I keep bugging you inside?”

“I don’t care what you do, but I need another drink,” Sarah said, draining the rest of her glass as she headed back to her usual barstool. 

Bet followed her like a shadow, sliding onto the stool to her right as Sarah flagged down the bartender for another drink.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Bet said before he could turn away.

“She’s drinking the shittiest vodka we have, with barely any ice,” the bartender said, brows raised. "And sometimes she makes me mix it with drip coffee, but the machine's broken."

“Sounds delicious,” Bet responded, smacking her hand on the sticky wood of the bar before wiping it on her jeans.

“Probably better than the beer here,” Sarah shrugged.

“I’ve never seen you order a beer,” the bartender smirked before going to pour their drinks, Sarah looking curiously at the woman beside her. 

“The beer was horrible,” Bet said. “Like drinking piss.”

“You drink a lot of piss?” Sarah asked, tilting her head.

“Why, you into that kind of thing?” Bet asked, her expression unchanging.

“You're really bold, you know that?” Sarah's voice only sounded half as exasperated as she wanted it to.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bet said. 

“I wasn’t complimenting you,” Sarah said, relieved when a fresh drink appeared in front of her. 

“I complimented you, you should give me something back.”

“That’s not how this works,” Sarah shook her head, taking a swig from her glass. 

“How does it work, then?”

Bet's persistence was following a completely different script than Sarah was accustomed to. Too quick, clever and stupid at the same time, and unfortunately a little funny. 

“Not with this much talking,” Sarah said. “And not with you.”

“It just makes me want it more when you shoot me down, babe,” Bet said, taking a sip of her drink without so much as a cringe at the poor quality or arguably unappetizing temperature. "I could be your girl for the night, or the year--"

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sarah said, shaking her head.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Bet challenged. 

“Then you should get some better judgment,” Sarah said. "You seem witty enough, this isn't a tree for you to bark up, alright?"

“I really don’t care about whatever you’re trying to warn me about,” Bet said. “It actually just makes me more excited, the fact you think you clocked me harder than I clocked you. You don't know the first thing about what I want.”

“Oh, please,” Sarah said, finally letting an actual scoff pass her lips.

“You don’t have to beg, Sarah,” Bet taunted, clearly pleased with the setup Sarah had unintentionally provided.

“I definitely don’t do that,” Sarah said.

“You’d be good at it,” Bet sipped her drink again. “You’re clearly all wound up, I could take care of you.”

“Get a grip,” Sarah said. “I don't get taken care of, and you’re not my type."

“I could be, you don’t know me,” Bet said. 

“You’re obviously new in town, you’re too cocky, you like the sound of your own voice, you have a complex about your feminine name so you’re overcompensating, you have a theater background or something because you’re acting like someone’s filming you all the time, you want to look like you don't try very hard but you clearly do, you probably practice facial expressions in the mirror, you have a degree but you act like a dropout, you're wearing those combat boots to make you look taller because you don't want to feel small but you're hiding in an oversized leather jacket which is counterintuitive, and you’ll be disappointed when I don’t take you home with me,” Sarah said. 

“Oh, look at you, some kind of oracle,” Bet said. “It’s honestly cute how much you don’t want to admit all that is doing something for you.”

“I can assure you it’s not,” Sarah said, or possibly lied, draining the rest of her glass and leaving cash to pay for her drinks tucked underneath. "Don't call me cute, either."

"Fine," Bet said, taking another sip of her drink. "I'll see you around, Sarah."

"I'm dreading it already," Sarah said, and she wished she meant it. 

Bet was already seated at the bar by the time Sarah got there the next day, in the same stool as the night before which meant Sarah would have to give up her favorite seat to avoid her. She liked her usual stool because she had a good view of people entering and leaving, and she could see most corners of the space. It didn't matter how much distance she got from her past career, some habits just refused to die. 

"I know you want to come sit with me," Bet called, an abominable looking beverage sitting in front of her. 

"I don't want to sit with you," Sarah said as she approached. "I want to sit in my spot without you."

"What is this, kindergarten? Last I checked there aren’t assigned seats at a dive bar,” Bet said. "Just sit somewhere else, or sit in your spot and I'll know you kind of want me."

The bartender gave Bet a warning look, and Sarah rolled her eyes before sitting down. She took a closer look at the concoction Bet was sipping on, narrowing her eyes.

“I don't want you, dumbass. What the fuck are you drinking?” Sarah asked. 

“Well, Mr. Bartender looked bored and I wasn’t going to get your special drink without you,” Bet said easily. “So I asked him to surprise me,” she added, shrugging. 

“It looks disgusting. And sweet,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Are you just trying to prove a point because I said you were overcompensating?”

“Firstly, it’s really strong,” Bet said. “And secondly, no, I just said to make whatever. I’m not trying to be anything in particular, but you were right about a few things last night.”

“Hm,” Sarah grunted, praying she could become as uninterested as she wanted to be. 

“If you drink one of these with me, I’ll tell you what I used to do for work and school and whatever else you want to know. You can say any mean things you want about it, too,” Bet offered, but it felt like a trick.

“I was going to be mean to you anyway, but now it seems like you get off on it so maybe I won't," Sarah said, sighing as she waved the bartender over. "And I don’t remember saying I wanted to know more about you at all.”

“But you’re kind of curious, I can tell because you didn’t even notice that girl with a massive rack who just walked in.”

Sarah looked around the bar, and Bet grinned.

“Ha, so that’s your type? Nice. Why don't you go find a girl like that to hang out with instead of sitting here talking about getting me off?”

“You’re a jackass,” Sarah said. She really did feel like she was losing it.

“Give me one of these gross looking drinks, and make her pay for it,” Sarah said, ignoring the bartender’s snicker at the way she fell into such an obvious trap. “And I’ll take a usual, too, so I can wash it down.”

“Do you ever drink water?” Bet asked, laughing. 

“Do you ever stop asking dumb questions?” Sarah responded. 

“I told you I have no manners,” Bet said, running a hand back through her hair. 

"Tell me whatever you want to tell me so badly, then," Sarah said. 

“So, I did want to be an actor,” Bet started. “And I did go to school for it, so you got me there. I ended up dropping out because I got a massive gig, though, so you were only half-right on that part.”

Sarah tried not to look at her, but she could feel her staring again. She relented when her drinks arrived, meeting Bet's intense gaze but avoiding noticing her light, smudgy eye makeup. 

"What was the gig? I guess you do seem like you'd look good on camera," Sarah said, taking a tentative sip of the cocktail. It tasted like soap to her, but it was still a drink. 

"Hosting a TV show," Bet said. "It was, like, a variety-slash-late-night type of thing with characters and interviews, games, sketches, improv…”

“Sounds confusing, like SNL but worse,” Sarah said. “Was it popular?”

“Oh, yeah. It was huge, and it was honestly pretty fun,” Bet said, nodding. “I had a ton of fans, the perks were insane, and I loved what I was doing.” 

“So how’d you end up here of all places if you were such a star?” Sarah asked, finishing the rest of the offensive pink and blue drink in a few long swigs so she could get the taste of boozy floral shampoo out of her mouth. 

“I freaked out on set and left,” Bet said simply. Sarah noticed that she didn’t have a humorous addendum to that part, filing it in her mind as one of her inconsistencies.

“So, not an amicable departure, then?” Sarah asked. 

“Nope, nasty legal stuff,” Bet said. “The network settled with me outside of court to save face, and now I’m here.”

Sarah nodded, alarmed by the silence that followed. 

“Well?” Bet nudged her shoulder, and Sarah stiffened slightly. 

“You practiced faces in the mirror all the time, then, didn't you?" Sarah asked dryly, not wanting to hear any more about legal battles and the woes of a woman in entertainment, at least not right now. That was an industry she stayed far away from, and even as hardened as she'd become, she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the sheer scale of the things women were put through in order to catch a big break like the one Bet had described.

"Constantly, yeah," Bet said, back to being completely unbothered. "I'm glad you noticed how pretty I am, though."

"When did I call you pretty?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"You said I'd look good on camera," Bet said. "Or did you just mean, like, naked in your bedroom?"

"You're doing a lot of flirting for someone I could pick up with one hand," Sarah said, shaking her head. 

"I don't know why you're saying that like it doesn't turn you on," Bet countered. 

"You wish," Sarah said. "It sounds more like you're just listing your various fantasies to me so you can go home and squirm around in bed about them later."

"If that's the case, it must be mutual," Bet said, finishing the rest of her cocktail. 

"I already said you're not my type," Sarah said, barely sounding convincing to herself at this point. 

"And yet you're still letting me hit on you," Bet said. "I don't mind if you just like the attention, but I think when I offered to take care of you, you thought about it for more than a second."

"Do most women find it charming that you can't take a hint?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, you're not most women, I already knew that," Bet said. "And if I was going off of your hints and not your words, I'd just kiss you right now."

"Like that's up to you," Sarah chuckled.

Bet raised her eyebrows, leaning towards her quickly and shutting her eyes. Sarah stopped her easily, a hand gripping her shoulder as her thumb rested against the painfully soft skin of her neck. She could feel her pulse. Instead of opening her eyes or pulling out of Sarah's grasp, Bet just smirked and leaned into her hand. 

"I just wanted you to touch me," she murmured, her eyes still closed. 

Sarah pulled her hand back, clearing her throat. 

"You're impossible," Sarah mumbled, her eyes lingering on the exposed skin she'd touched. 

"Bartender! One holy water, please," Bet called out, once again back to her unaffected baseline. 

"What- oh," Sarah said, looking down at her own drink. 

"You want to laugh so bad," Bet said. "Come on, Sarah, admit I'm a good time."

"I'd rather die," Sarah said, but when her chatty, flirtatious shadow followed her outside for a smoke after their next round of drinks, her complaints were fewer than before. Still plenty, but fewer.

Chapter Text

The next time Sarah saw Bet, it wasn’t at the bar. She was out picking up groceries, trying to decide if she was the type of person who bought oat milk and failing to understand why it was more expensive if it was just made of plants and water. She didn't come to a conclusion, placing a carton in her basket once she grew fatigued with weighing the decision before heading to the pasta aisle with a keen desire to gather what she needed and head home. She tended to get in and get out of the store without much hesitation, so she didn't necessarily know why she looked up to see who was cursing at the boxed farfalle.

"Fucking gluten free, what the fuck?" Bet mumbled, her voice now unmistakable. 

Sarah didn't say anything initially, grabbing several boxes of macaroni and cheese and throwing them in her basket. She never was much of a cook, using her detective work as an arguably valid excuse in the past when it came to shitty, low-effort meals being her standard. She grabbed what she could when she had enough of an appetite, and if she made food at home her microwave was used a lot more than her stove. Now, she had plenty of free time, but her motivation to do anything more involved than boil water and stir was so lacking that sometimes even that was too much. Frozen meals and sleep for dinner often made appearances on her weekly menu, too, and as disappointing as it was, it was just another thing she couldn't bring herself to give a damn about. Sometimes the women she slept with tried to cook for her, hoping they could convince her to stay with them longer by taking forever to make some meal or another, but she preferred to eat efficiently and alone. She certainly didn’t yearn to be wooed by cuisine in someone else's home, always feeling too trapped and leaving before the food was ready. With this in mind, it was strange to see Bet so impassioned about the farfalle, still grumbling at the box in her hands like it was going to apologize for its lack of gluten. Sarah supposed she didn't think very much about what other people cared about anymore, not having considered that Bet had any hobbies outside of smoking, annoying the shit out of her, and talking too much. In the past, she’d been able to weave an entire backstory out of what someone liked to cook, but now she just felt like some type of joke was being played on her in the form of Bet standing a few feet away doing something as mundane as shopping for dry ingredients. 

"I already thought you were crazy, but this is a lot," Sarah finally said, her voice rough from underuse. 

Bet whipped to face her, clearly surprised. Sarah filed away the fact that it was somewhat compelling to see her caught off-guard and out of her element. It bothered her that she now had an ongoing mental file on Bet, but she was occupying a space in her mind that hadn’t seen any activity in ages. In the bright, fluorescent lighting of the grocery store, she looked less mysterious than at the bar, more normal. The concept of her being cute passed through her mind again, but that was probably her sleep deprivation talking. She had a baseball cap on, a long sleeve t-shirt depicting some logo Sarah didn't recognize, light colored jeans, and the dirtiest white sneakers Sarah had seen in a while. The absence of combat boots really emphasized her height, or lack thereof, and Sarah would feel bad for noticing her physical attributes in such a way if she was concerned about her thoughts being morally flawless and generally kind. Something stirred deep in her abdomen when she tried to connect the regrettably endearing woman in front of her with the intrepid one who'd been throwing out such vulgar, presumptuous lines at the bar, but she didn't quite understand what that stirring meant. Maybe she did understand, but she didn't feel like touching that topic right now regardless. She just knew it was her turn to stare, her eyes trailing over her frame. 

"Sarah," Bet said, like a statement rather than a greeting.

"What? Am I interrupting something?" Sarah asked, nodding slightly at the apparently offensive box in Bet's hands. 

"I don't understand how a store runs out of normal goddamn farfalle," she said simply. "I'm not using gluten free bullshit for this recipe, and I'm not going to run all over town to buy one box of pasta."

Sarah glanced at the shelf, then back at Bet. 

"You're too short to see it, but there's one box left of the normal stuff," Sarah said, tilting her head. 

"You're fucking with me," Bet said, squinting her eyes in a way that made her nose crinkle slightly. 

"We've already been over how you wish I was," Sarah replied. 

"Well, grab it for me," Bet said, waving her hand.

She really was rude, and it wasn't like Sarah was in a rush for any particular reason. She decided to accept this moment as a gift of some sort, maybe something to lift her mood from the sticky, tarry, dark place it had been sitting for more than what would be considered a long time. She didn't believe in signs, karma was completely lost on her at this point, and no entity was receiving prayers from her. After the way Bet scrambled her mind at the bar and made her forget herself long enough to feel something uncomfortable like licking a corroded battery, though, she felt owed this tiny pinprick of something to wake her up. Bet in the light of day, likely hungover, clearly frustrated, acting like a rabbit with its foot caught in a fence all over a box of pasta. 

"What was that thing you said about begging?" Sarah asked. "That you'd be good at it?"

"I said you'd be good at it," Bet mumbled, her bravado shrinking as Sarah bent down to her eye level. 

"And I told you I don't do that," Sarah said slowly, noticing the way Bet's throat bobbed as she swallowed before finally meeting her eyes. "But you seem like you could."

"I'm not going to grovel for pasta in the middle of the store," Bet said, lifting her chin slightly. 

"Then just ask nicely," Sarah said. "Can you do that?"

"I can, but I don't want to," Bet said, her eyes flicking to Sarah's lips a few too many times. 

"Alright," Sarah said, straightening up and reaching easily for the box with her free hand. "I'll just take it for myself."

"You're such an asshole," Bet said. 

"I know. Are you gonna pout about it?" Sarah asked, holding her arm up as Bet tried to swipe the box. "Thought you didn't mind a bully."

"Yeah, it turns me on, but I still want the fucking pasta," Bet said, trying to conceal her huffed out breath of defiance by turning her head. Sarah still caught it, though.

"You can ask nicely, or you can jump," Sarah said plainly.

"You're a creep," Bet said, crossing her arms. 

"I'm sure you like that, too," Sarah said, her brow lifting slightly. 

Bet actually started to blush beneath the light freckles on her cheeks, and Sarah wondered if she'd been blushing those nights at the bar, hidden in the low light. She'd have to pay more attention next time. She could already tell there would be a next time, based on the way Bet was obviously considering embarrassing herself just to get the box of dry bowties instead of using something else for whatever she was making. Sarah felt that twinge at the corner of her mouth again as Bet placed one hand on her shoulder and used her for leverage, jumping to snatch the package from her hand and digging her fingertips hard into the material of Sarah's jacket. She barely felt it, but Bet didn't pull away immediately. Each fraction of a second that passed made her more aware of her hand there, and of Bet standing way too close. 

"Your cheeks are red," Sarah said, and that got her to step back quickly. 

"I have a sunburn," Bet said, already stomping out of the aisle and towards the checkout. 

Sarah finished her shopping, trying and failing to put the interaction out of her mind. She couldn't wait to get a drink. When she arrived at the bar, just an hour or so later even though it was only mid-afternoon, she didn't see Bet sitting encroachingly close to her usual spot. She wondered fleetingly if she'd become too self-conscious after their run-in at the store, sitting down and drumming her fingertips on the bar. She definitely wasn't disappointed that Bet wouldn't be sitting with her, she wanted her to leave her alone, so it was odd that she felt any type of way about not seeing her. Maybe the brief instances of respite from monotony had gotten confused for an actual hankering to see her again, or maybe the amount of  new eye candy had dropped recently so she wasn't feeling stimulated enough. The bartender looked at her inquisitively and she frowned, gesturing in annoyed confusion with one hand. 

"What's with the face? I need a drink," she said impatiently. 

The bartender gave a short nod, then threw a sidelong glance in the direction of the ratty, beat-up pool table at the other end of the bar. Sarah followed his gaze, unsure why her pulse quickened at what she saw. Bet had changed her clothes since the store, and Sarah despised how much she noticed the difference. She was back in her chunky boots and wearing a tank top with the sides cut out nearly completely, showing off her torso and her black sports bra. The waistband of her boxers sat above her, in Sarah's opinion, very ill-fitting jeans. She was used to her eyes being drawn to tight pants, or at least ones that fit securely with a belt, but Bet seemed completely fine with her jeans hanging off of her hips. She was standing behind a girl, practically bending her over the table in an unconvincing display of 'teaching her pool'. Sarah reached out for a drink that hadn’t appeared in front of her yet, her mouth suddenly dry, opting to clench her fist instead as she watched the pair. Bet was putting on a show, clearly, and Sarah would normally disregard the display. Normally, she would see someone showboating and not even offer an eye roll before finding her own entertainment for the night. For some reason, though, she kept watching as the tiny blonde pressed flush against Bet’s front tossed her head back with a giggle, their lips meeting easily between likely terrible shots. She saw Bet move a hand from the girl's hip to slide under the hem of her top and squeeze her waist, exhaling deeply through her nose before her exceedingly simple drink was finally delivered. 

“You alright?” the bartender asked. 

“Since when do you care?” Sarah responded, not sure what it meant that she seemed perceivably less alright than usual. She was always in a shitty mood, and she didn't like the idea that something about Bet was making her more irritable than she tended to be. 

“You’re my best customer,” he said, conspicuously looking towards the pool table again. “Or my most consistent one, at least. And I’ve never seen you actually talk to someone like you did with her.”

“Mind your own business,” Sarah responded, taking a sip from her glass.

“She kept watching the door,” the man offered, shrugging. “She saw when you came in.”

Sarah almost asked something in return, but she refused the urge to engage with whatever thread of conversation such an inquiry would lead to. 

“I couldn’t care less where she looks,” Sarah lied. 

She sipped at her drink, finishing it quicker than she meant to and left with nothing to do as the bartender served another patron. It crossed her mind that despite coming here countless times since she moved in a couple of blocks away, she’d never bothered to ask his name. It wasn’t like she was interested in chatting, trusting him enough to pour heavily, leave her to her usual activities, and not cut her off, but she figured she could ask sometime what he went by if he was going to be so forthcoming with information she hadn’t sought in the first place. She shifted slightly on her barstool, looking toward the pool table again, and the crease between her brows deepened when she didn't see Bet anymore. She scanned the rest of the bar quickly, not spotting her in any of the dingy corners, and something like vague disappointment bloomed alongside the growing, familiar comfort of her ritualistic drinking. It was an awful feeling, really, to not even be inspired to use any of her tried and true techniques and pick someone up to distract herself. She was distracted, and it was unusual. 

Another half of a drink passed before the question of where Bet went was answered, a creaky bathroom door swinging open to reveal her with the now wobbly-legged pool novice in tow. If she didn’t know better, they would look like a couple, laughing and holding hands like hooking up in a bar was something sweet and novel and exciting. Sarah tried to determine whether she’d choose the same girl, half-picturing her own hands where Bet’s had been at the pool table, but her mind wouldn’t latch on to the idea. All she could picture was Bet bent over the table instead, or against the bathroom wall, or in her bed. She could practically conjure her voice in her head, whining or moaning or crying out. She didn't let herself get as far as imagining how she'd taste before she slammed the rest of her drink, heading outside for a smoke without another glance in Bet's direction.

“You seem mad today,” came the voice Sarah was unfortunately waiting to hear. 

“Not any more than usual,” Sarah said, hazarding a look at Bet. 

She looked tousled, a bit flushed, slightly sweaty, and much too relaxed. 

“Hm, I could have sworn I saw you glaring at me while I was having fun,” Bet said, lighting her cigarette. "Guess I was imagining things."

“Did you ditch your girl just to tell me that?” Sarah asked. 

“She’s not my girl, and she already went home,” Bet said coolly. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I didn’t replace you that fast, so don’t worry.”

Sarah bristled, flicking her ash and taking a drag. Bet's phrasing made it sound like she was in control, or like she thought she had ownership of whatever this dance was that they were doing. Sarah would never admit as much, even if it were true, which it wasn't.

“Replacing me when you’re obsessed with me seems unrealistic,” Sarah said instead, trying to regain her grip on the situation. 

“Somebody's jealous,” Bet said, teasing like she wasn’t sated in any regard by what went on with the blonde. She was greedy, or maybe she was distracted, too.

“It’s not like you’re stepping on my toes by getting what you want,” Sarah said, refusing to address the jealousy accusation. “It was nice to not have you in my ear for a while.”

“You missed me and you know it,” Bet said, her grin especially sharp tonight, teeth gleaming like she needed to bite something and tear it to shreds. 

“We saw each other earlier, that was more than enough,” Sarah said. “And you ran away because I caught you blushing like an idiot.”

They let silence spread between them for a while after that, Bet still doing her dumb smoke tricks and Sarah trying not to watch the shapes she formed with her lips. It was hard not to be drawn in, the angles of her face much too captivating. Sarah looked up at the sky, watching their combined smoke curl away and disappear. She didn't have anything to say, and Bet trying to get her attention by hooking up with random women wasn't something she would indulge. She could do the same thing if she wanted to, but the idea was unappealing in recent days which was the opposite of her typical response to getting too in her head. She didn't want that part to mean anything. 

“You’re such a coward,” Bet said eventually, shaking her head. 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Sarah said, looking down at Bet again as she tossed her cigarette in the ashtray and let it burn itself out. She didn't appreciate that word whatsoever. She spent too long risking too much to be called cowardly because she wouldn't give in to pestering from someone she barely knew and who knew her even less. Maybe it was her own fault for not sharing anything about  herself that would indicate otherwise, but she still hated hearing something so accusatory.

“Or what, Sarah? Are you actually gonna do something this time? Or just keep pretending you don’t want to take out whatever anger makes you such a massively miserable bitch on me?” Bet asked, her tone sharp. 

Sarah reached for her wrist first, somewhat satisfied when the cigarette between her fingers fell to the ground. She did want to take something out on her, and she hated that she knew it so confidently. Her other hand gripped Bet’s hip, shoving her back against the brick wall. She wasn't gentle, pinning Bet's arm against the rough surface. Bet hardly flinched, but Sarah heard a tiny intake of breath that meant she’d at least succeeded in surprising her. 

“Fuck, if I wasn’t wet already--” Bet said, her voice coming out as a quiet rasp. 

“I am not a coward,” Sarah muttered after her mind went briefly blank at Bet's words, her fingers flexing against the skin exposed by her stupid outfit. She was so soft, and warm, and she seemed much too pleased as she looked up at her. Sarah didn’t mind as her knuckles scraped against the brick, she was too intoxicated by the way Bet felt in her hands.

“Then why not prove it to me?” Bet asked, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face, her free arm braced against the wall behind her. 

“Because I know that's all you want, and then you'd win,” Sarah said, tightening her grip on her wrist. 

“I’d make sure it was worth your while, babe,” Bet said, her heavy breathing betraying the nature of her quickly constructed reply. "Maybe you'd win, too."

“You don’t know what’s worth it to me,” Sarah said. "Why didn't you just leave with that girl? She seemed pretty happy with whatever you did to her, could have made a night of it.” 

"I fucked her, I was done," Bet gritted, clenching her teeth as Sarah pressed her thumb into her hip, hard and bruising. "She came too fast, I got bored…and she wasn't you."

Sarah evened her breathing, not wanting to react to the image that materialized too vividly as a result of Bet’s crass words. 

"You should just give it up," Sarah said, her own face feeling warm as she noticed Bet's reactions, the way her jaw flexed and she tugged lightly at her trapped wrist, not hard enough to budge at all. 

"I won't," Bet said with a shake of her head, and Sarah believed her wholeheartedly. 

"You're too stubborn," Sarah said. "It'll get you in trouble one of these days."

"Good. You gonna punish me?" Bet provoked, putting on a voice that made Sarah's stomach clench. She pretended not to recognize the sensation as desire.

Sarah finally let go of her and Bet tried to act nonchalant as she recalibrated her breathing, still leaning against the wall. Sarah wanted to wipe the smug look from her face, but she was certain that even if she slapped her the look would simply return, probably even more smug than before. It was vexing not being able to get a true upper hand. 

"Every time you say something like that, I know it's what you're dying for," Sarah said. "You talk a big game about whatever it is you think you could do to me, but I think you actually just want me to toss you around."

"I can do it all, babe," Bet said, running a fingertip up Sarah's arm, tilting her head. "I know you probably get tired of being in control, I'm sure you'd enjoy what I could give you,” she continued, stepping closer and staring shamelessly at Sarah’s chest. “But you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you?"

"In your dreams," Sarah said. It was frustrating that Bet thought she could be everything, shapeshifting to steer each interaction in the direction she wanted it to go. 

"I'd love to dream about you," Bet said with a quick bite of her lip, grinning as she reached into Sarah's jacket pocket and swiped a new cigarette from her pack to replace the one still smoldering by her feet. "Over me, or under me, whatever."

Sarah rolled her eyes, then gave Bet a final once-over before leaving her outside so she could get the taste of wanting her off of her tongue. She left the bar prematurely, but being home was somehow worse. She was hot, her mind unable to stop replaying things Bet said, how she looked, how she felt, and Sarah drank and thought and drank some more. It wasn't like her to fixate like this, especially when Bet made it clear she was  trying to get reactions and attention from her, but she couldn't let it go. She was fucked and she knew it, but once she acknowledged the fact in earnest she knew it would only get harder to push away. The worst thing about wanting something was knowing it could disappear at any time, which was why she preferred to want an encounter or a feeling and not a person. She’d made the mistake of trying to pursue something real and complex when she was in a dark, lonely place, and hurting someone she genuinely cared about destroyed her much more than warning people beforehand that she was permanently unattached. She got hurt, too, and she didn’t want that again. If she just wanted sex, she could get it and move on. If she wanted to get drunk, she could drink. Whatever the current wanting was, though, crept up before slamming into her like a train and left her disoriented and shaken, but she was alive. She hadn't felt so alive in years, and that was a lot scarier than feeling numb.

Chapter Text

Sarah didn’t usually dream when she finally managed to exhaust herself to the point of sleeping. More often than simply feeling tired, it was a combination of alcohol and lack of rest that led to her passing out upright on the couch or dragging herself into bed, and she’d wake up with a start nearly every time. She used to have frequent night terrors in addition to vivid nightmares, ones that would leave her shaking and gasping for air, which was part of the reason vodka and coffee became her saviors while she was still doing detective work. Coffee during the day so she could drive long distances, vodka at night to soften the edges of the constantly intense cases she took on. Sometimes the two overlapped, not often and not when she had to drive, but as the years went on following her departure from her career, she leaned much more heavily on one crutch than the other. If she was drunk enough by the time she reluctantly fell asleep, her brain wouldn’t be as active and she could avoid seeing startling, horrific visions. Coffee still kept her awake enough and was cheaper than a cocaine habit, not that she hadn’t considered it. She preferred the night terrors that still persisted after all this time to nightmares; at least they left nothing to be remembered by the time her eyes snapped open. 

Of course Bet managed to infiltrate her previously dreamless nights, and when she woke up in a sweat that wasn’t purely caused by fear she was sure it was because of Bet’s comments during their last conversation. No amount of vodka, apparently, could keep images of Bet staring up at her and taking her fingers out of her mind, or Bet’s mouth on her, Bet grinding on her thigh…she shot out of bed, opting to focus on making coffee. She was glad she didn't have Bet's contact information, because in her confusingly heightened state she might have called her so she could get whatever was happening to her out of her system and move along. She wanted a simple explanation for this, one that she could treat like checking something off of a list and not have to touch again. It was how she'd gotten by this long, simplifying her feelings and behavior so she could stay alive, but deep down even she knew it was only a matter of time before things started to bubble up through the cracks she'd so sloppily filled with lies about herself. She used to be passionate to a fault, motivated by a sense of justice and a desire to protect people, and acting like she didn't care about anything or anyone might finally be catching up to her. She used to claim that casual sex boosted her energy, and that was half-true in the sense that when she was away from her ex-husband and on the road she could be more herself when it came to who she chose to be with, and she could feel more seen in a way that was invigorating. Now, she kept anyone who did want to see her at arm's length, even when she was inside them. It was contradictory and hypocritical, but that was how she'd decided to keep her emotions at bay. Changing how she went about things would mean opening up wounds she didn't even want to look at, and driving people away had become easy and comfortable. She couldn't just decide to change her style of conduct after finding something that worked well enough to keep her afloat just because someone was stuck in her head. She could get her out, even if she had to dig in with pliers and pull, barbs and all.

She didn't dare whisper the name repeating like a taunt in her head when she finally tried to relieve some of the tense, frustrated energy making her mind trip over itself more than her afternoon drinks at home had. She just pictured her, the way she looked when she was so briefly wide-eyed against the wall outside of the bar. Maybe that was the moment, Sarah thought as her hand worked roughly against her own core. Maybe she did it to herself by grabbing her the way she had, knowing that was how she'd wanted her since the moment she started bothering her. She thought of how small her wrist felt in her hand, how smooth her skin was, how her lips looked like something she'd have to decide between kissing and biting. She thought about how easily Bet had just stood there, letting herself be pushed and bruised, and how it still wasn't anywhere close to enough for whatever masochistic instinct she was feeding by trying to convince Sarah to have sex with her. Sarah imagined what it would be like to try in earnest to ruin her, to have her drop her act and see just how much she could really handle. She didn't make a sound, her fingers circling quickly as she lay in bed, her jaw clenched and her eyes squeezed shut. She didn't trust herself to call someone over when she felt the way she did right now, not after Bet provoked her with the idea of Sarah taking her anger out on her. She couldn't transfer that onto someone else. It was hers. Or it was Bet's. She rubbed faster, harder, wishing she could finish quickly and find some clarity. She resented the fact that what finally brought her release was picturing Bet on top of her, riding her strap like she was the one in control. She came silently, finally unclenching her jaw when she was done, immediately getting up to shower. She didn't feel any less distracted than before, and if anything she'd created even more ties to Bet by getting off while thinking about her, which wasn't as shocking as it was fucking annoying. She barely toweled off her hair before getting dressed and heading to the bar with her ponytail dripping water down the back of her shirt. 

"Why are you, like, soaking wet?" Bet asked as Sarah wordlessly slid onto the stool next to her, not even pretending she was going to sit somewhere else today. 

Hearing Bet's voice so soon after what she'd done at home made the tips of Sarah's ears feel hot. 

"Do you not shower?" Sarah asked. 

"Of course I do, but I dry my hair after," Bet said with a shrug. "Did you have a girl over?" she asked suggestively. 

"Why do you care?" Sarah mumbled, glad when the bartender brought her a drink without her having to ask. 

"Because, like I already told you, I want you," Bet said, sipping on a martini today. "So, if you had a girl over, I'd want to know."

Sarah laughed quietly at how absurd she sounded.

"Just because you want me doesn't mean you're owed information about who is or isn't at my place," Sarah said. 

"God, you're strict," Bet said. "But I can tell something happened, you're weirder than usual."

"I just got here, what the fuck are you talking about?" Sarah asked after a long sip from her glass. 

"I don't know yet, but it's something," Bet said, satisfied with her own answer and leaving Sarah wondering if all of the confusion rattling around in her skull was somehow visible. "If you didn't fuck somebody, what did you do today?"

"I'm not doing small talk with you right now," Sarah said, sighing. 

"Suit yourself," Bet said. "I'll just talk about my day, instead."

Sarah motioned dismissively, sipping her drink again.

"I woke up early because I had some crazy dreams last night," Bet said, Sarah's knuckles whitening around her glass momentarily. "Crazy hot, honestly. I'm glad I wished for them, it actually worked."

"Congratulations," Sarah said, not sure why she was surprised by any of the words out of this girl's mouth anymore.

"Thanks," Bet said, kicking her shoe against Sarah's leg. "I think it was because you pushed me against the wall, I was still wet over it when I went to sleep," Bet murmured. 

"You should keep certain things to yourself," Sarah said. 

"Why? Does it get you too excited?" Bet teased. "I guess I'll skip past the part where I…how did you phrase it? Squirmed around in bed about you?"

"Do you realize that describing your various sexual activities to me is completely inappropriate?" Sarah asked. "I could just get you banned from this bar, then you wouldn't be able to harass me anymore."

"So, was it appropriate to slam me into a hard surface in a threatening manner?" Bet raised her eyebrows much too cheekily. 

"You said multiple times you enjoyed it," Sarah said, her knee bouncing. 

"So? Still a sort of insane thing to do," Bet said. 

"I guess I'm sort of insane, then," Sarah sighed, feeling like she was playing tug-of-war with one of those little yapping dogs that held on to a toy even when they were dangling off the ground. 

"So am I," Bet said, somehow looking happier than when the conversation had started. "I don't think you want me banned, you just still aren't ready to admit I'm right," Bet said, finishing her martini. "I guess I just want to know why I piss you off so bad."

Sarah finished her drink as well, trying to catch up like it would make it easier to stomach being told about herself again. 

"I feel like I've explained it to you plenty," Sarah said. 

"And I don't believe it's just about your type," Bet countered. 

"What's it about, then?" Sarah pressed.

"I don't know, that why I'm fucking asking you," Bet said. "You act like you're scared of me, but you still want to be around me. You lie about that part, badly, and then you won't let me get to know you but you get upset when I try to guess what the hell is wrong with you. Being a control freak doesn't explain why you keep coming back, knowing I'll be here. There are other bars that serve warm vodka, I'm sure."

"There you go, loving the sound of your own voice again," Sarah said.

"You could say something at any time and I'd listen," Bet said. "And you can complain all you want, I'm either going to talk or try to get you to talk to me."

"Fine, Bet," Sarah said, finally stopping her knee from bouncing. "Have you ever seen someone die?" she asked, taking some small, sick satisfaction in how the question momentarily sucked the air from Bet's lungs.

"I- no," Bet said, blinking in surprise. 

"Okay, what about a dead body, then? Not a picture, a real one," Sarah clarified, summoning the bartender. "Get her a double shot of whiskey, and I'll have another."

Bet stared at her like she was so good at doing, but she didn't have any quips to interject with. 

"There are things that can make knowing other people difficult," Sarah said, turning to Bet. 

"I know," Bet said, her voice softer than Sarah had ever heard it. "But I still want to do hard things, sometimes."

"And maybe that's the difference here," Sarah said. "I've learned my lesson when it comes to wanting something more than you can afford to."

"I guess I haven't," Bet said.

"You don't want to learn that from me," Sarah shook her head slightly. 

"You can't say that for sure," Bet said, still stubborn despite cooling off significantly. "Maybe I have something I can't explain right away that makes other people difficult, too."

"I never thought you didn't," Sarah said. "I just didn't want to get involved. I still don't."

"But you still know I'm not letting up?" Bet asked, the usual attitude gone from her voice. If anything, she sounded hopeful. 

"Yep," Sarah nodded. 

"Okay, fine. Why'd you order me a shot?" Bet tried to change the subject, but the transition was clunky, her tone still off as she tried to recalibrate. This was why Sarah needed to be in charge, she'd planned for as much.

The shot arrived just then along with Sarah's next drink, and Bet took it before hearing Sarah's answer. She wondered if she really was as dumb and reckless as she seemed, or if she was in a lot of pain, too. 

"Because I knew this conversation would bum you out, and you're more fun when you're being stupid and horny," Sarah said, offering the perfect opportunity for Bet to slip her mask back on without feeling pitied. Pity was the worst. 

Sarah had let her shield waver for a bit, too, and she needed to figure out how many more times she could let that happen before it would split in half. 

"You do think I'm fun!" Bet said, jabbing Sarah in her arm. 

"I don't remember saying that," Sarah shrugged, taking a sip from her new drink. 

"Ugh, I wish I had someone to brag to about my crush liking me back," Bet mused. "Let's kiss."

"You are fucking delusional," Sarah said as Bet leaned in the same way she had the first time, stopping her like she had before, too.

She didn't pull her hand back abruptly, though, her grip firm on Bet's shoulder as her thumb rubbed up and down the side of her neck. Bet kept her eyes closed, maybe to maintain the pretense that she was still hoping for a kiss as Sarah gave her just a few moments of what she wanted. Sarah squeezed her shoulder a little tighter, pushing her back lightly and facing forward on her stool again once she'd let go. Bet smiled down at her lap for a moment, and Sarah pretended not to see.

Chapter Text

They were quiet for a while, Bet seemingly occupied with enough from their interaction to pore over in her mind that she was uncharacteristically quiet for the next ten minutes. Sarah didn't mind the silence at all, but she was starting to hate Bet's endless chatter less and less. There was a text message she'd been avoiding responding to that she supposed she could finally address now that she had a second to think, only half-listening as Bet quickly ordered another drink before falling silent again. 

C: haven't heard from u in a while. not that i care abt u like that, just wondering if ur still in town. lmk or dont.  

Sarah: I am.

A response came almost immediately.

C: want to meet at mine tomorrow?

Sarah: Maybe. I'll let you know.

She let out a breath, putting her phone away. This wasn't one of her usual flings, but maybe she did need a break from all of Bet's enthusiasm to see somebody who was perfectly happy not being close in a conventional sense while still understanding more about Sarah's past than a majority of people ever would. Maybe she needed to remind herself why she couldn't do what Bet wanted her to do, no matter what that would end up looking like. Tying herself back to her past always tended to feel like shit, but she could use some grounding after looking into starry, eager eyes a few too many times already. She stood up from her stool and grabbed her half-empty glass, now slightly put off by how Bet was still so quiet.

"You coming for a smoke, shadow?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

Bet hopped up, following her outside without a word. 

"I know I usually want you to shut up, but you're freaking me out with the silence," Sarah said once she lit her cigarette. 

"Who were you texting? I didn't even realize you had a phone," Bet said dryly, her own cigarette hanging unlit from the corner of her mouth. 

"Come on, don't do that," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"What? We finally had, like, an actual conversation and then you immediately started texting someone else," Bet said, opting for an accusatory tone when Sarah could tell she just didn't want to seem whiny. It made her seem more whiny, actually. 

"Jesus, Bet--"

"Christ, Sarah --"

"You…ugh," Sarah said, exhaling through her nose. She didn't need to get worked up over wordplay, of all things. "I didn't start texting her, she texted me weeks ago and I just now replied," Sarah said.

"That's worse," Bet said. "That means talking to me made you want to talk to her."

"Is that what that means?" Sarah asked. "Must be a young people thing."

"I'm not that young," Bet said, rolling her eyes and finally lighting her cigarette. Sarah wondered if she'd been trying to decide if she was going to pout and storm off or stay outside until just then. 

"You are," Sarah said. "That's part of why you're so exhausting."

"Guess how old I am, then, if it's such a big deal to you," Bet said.

Sarah pretended to think for longer than she actually had to, like she hadn't spent years profiling suspects and victims alike. Unfortunately, a lot of cases she'd worked involved women around Bet's age and younger, which was why it felt so easy to estimate in the first place. 

"Between 28 and 32," Sarah said. "Probably 30 or 31, though. You think you're wise already since misogyny or movies or whatever told you that you're done for after your twenties, and you got all huffy about how you're not a college girl. Seems like you have a complex about your age, which makes sense for an actress."

"You looked at my license, didn't you?" Bet asked, leaning back against the wall. 

"When would I have had the opportunity to go through your wallet?" Sarah asked. "And why would I need to when you talk about yourself so much?"

"I don't know, but that was really accurate," Bet admitted, pursing her lips in thought for a moment. "Did you look me up online?"

"Did I go home and look up 'Bet from puppet comedy whatever TV show'? No, honey, I didn't."

Sarah hadn't meant to call her that; when she was picking someone up, it was simpler to use pet names so that when she wanted to forget them, she could do it passively. She'd been deliberate in only calling Bet by her name, even though she still found it ridiculous, in addition to nicknames that served to tease her like 'kid' or, as of a minute ago, 'shadow'. Her intention was to differentiate her in her mind from someone she planned to sleep with, since she was trying to avoid as much, but she supposed that meant she also didn't intend to forget her easily. She also knew Bet would try to make a pet name mean something, like how she kept calling Sarah 'babe' as though it meant something, too. 

"First of all, since when am I 'honey'? Second of all, I definitely didn't describe it as a puppet show," Bet said, her mischievous grin back where it belonged. 

"I meant it in a condescending way," Sarah said, taking a drag from her cigarette. "And even if it wasn't a puppet show, would I be wrong if I guessed you used puppets at least once?"

Bet groaned, shutting her eyes dramatically and leaning her head back against the wall. She really was made for some type of constant performance, not drinking at a shitty dive bar every night. 

"We did use puppets multiple times," she said. "They literally got ones made to look like me and some of the cast. But the show was called Bit City , and you'd probably hate it."

"I don't really watch TV," Sarah said, but the concept of a miniature recreation of Bet was somewhat amusing, sparking for a moment far in the part of her mind that would seek something easier to digest than buckets of alcohol. "And you're probably right."

Something about the title seemed like a very distant whisper of a memory, but she figured if it had been popular she probably encountered an ad for it on the radio or overheard someone talking about it in passing. She probably wouldn't have glanced twice at Bet back then, whenever "then" was, and even if she had she didn't think her thoughts would be anything close to whatever depravity curled around the idea of her now. 

"You're really not going to tell me how you guessed?" Bet asked, interrupting the preamble to another fantasy Sarah didn't want to have right now. "Are you, like, a psychic or something?"

"Nope, just something I had to do a lot before I retired," Sarah said. "Guessing things about people, I mean."

"Hm," Bet nodded in acknowledgment. "I'm still jealous of the girl you were texting," she added, jumping back to a topic that she could spin into something she'd be able to react to more easily. 

"That's okay," Sarah said plainly. "I think you'll survive."

"Describe her," Bet said, always so undeterred by Sarah's attempts to just let a moment disappear where it naturally would. "I swear I'm not going to hunt her down, just…it's the type thing. I'm still curious."

"You are not doing a good job at seeming nonchalant tonight," Sarah said. "But you rarely are."

"I guess I'm feeling a little chalant, then. My bad," Bet said, shrugging. 

Sarah thought it was more likely that she was still thrown off by what they'd briefly discussed inside the bar and was trying to latch onto something new so she could do a whole routine about why she needed to be jealous of this woman as a distraction. She could never be entirely sure with her, though. She was so predictable and still entirely surprising, maybe she'd burst into tears. Maybe she'd try to kiss her again. Sarah was willing to find out.

"She's a judgmental bitch, she speaks in a monotone, she hates long conversations, she's dismissive, and she thinks that I'm too passionate," Sarah listed, trying to think of more adjectives that didn't have to do with her appearance. 

"Sounds hot," Bet said, ashing her cigarette after blowing a ring in Sarah's direction.

"Yeah," Sarah said, not offering any further details. 

"It's not like I'm going to change for you or something," Bet said. "You can tell me she's nothing like me."

"Fine," Sarah said, unsure why Bet insisted on hurting her own feelings so often with her pressing and prodding. "She's nothing like you at all."

"Good," Bet smirked, like she'd won a game she was playing in her own brain.

"You're acting like that was some kind of trick now, huh?" Sarah asked, truly amazed at how Bet was always correct in her world, always ahead of things. 

"It was," Bet said. "You thought I'd be mad again that you like women who aren't anything like me, but I realized while we were talking earlier that you probably think I'm special or something," Bet said matter-of-factly. "So it's actually good news for me that whoever this chick is won't be able to do what I can."

"What is it that you do for me, again? Overshare and annoy the shit out of me?" Sarah asked.

"Mhmm," Bet said, pushing herself from the wall after putting her cigarette out and grabbing the collar of Sarah's shirt. Even in her boots, she lifted onto her toes to get closer to her ear. "And tell you about how I think about you while I fuck myself," she whispered. "You pictured it when I told you that, didn't you?"

"Get off of me," Sarah said, setting her cigarette in an ashtray and placing her hands on Bet's hips before immediately regretting her choice of words. 

"You want me to get off?" Bet murmured, pulling back enough to look up at her face. "I probably will again later, that's so nice of you."

"Stupid girl," Sarah said, unable to stop herself from pressing at the spot on Bet's right hip she knew she'd bruised the night before. Bet bit her lip, holding in some sort of sound Sarah was painfully intrigued by the absence of.

"I like it when you call me that," Bet said. 

"You'd like anything I call you," Sarah said, Bet still holding on to her shirt, trying to press herself against her. 

"Of course I would," Bet said, her voice raspy. "But I like it the best when it’s mean.”

Sarah knew she just wanted to be manhandled again, but if she dropped her hands she couldn't be sure Bet wouldn't just wrap herself around her or climb her or otherwise invade her space even more. She pushed her hips back with her palms and tried not to grab any more despite the images that flashed in her mind, which confusingly resulted in Bet's free arm encircling Sarah's waist.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah asked. 

"I'm trying to hug you," Bet said. 

"Bullshit, this is not a hug," Sarah said. 

"Like you'd even know, you clearly haven't been hugged in, like, a million years," Bet said, smashing the side of her face against Sarah's chest. 

Sarah stopped trying to move at that point, looking up at the sky as Bet kept ahold of her shirt and squeezed tighter around her waist. She didn't know what to do with her own hands anymore, so she just dropped them to her sides. 

"Hug me back," Bet mumbled. 

"No," Sarah said. "And you owe me a drink for this," she added.

"Kinda makes you sound like a hooker," Bet said. "Trading vodka for letting me put my face in your tits."

"Great. Pay my whole tab, then, moviestar," Sarah said, still staring up at the sky so she wouldn't accidentally look down and kiss the top of Bet's head. It was probably just the proximity that made her want to do that, anyway.

"What do I get if I do that, since one drink is already enough for face-in-boobs?" Bet finally released her, stepping back and practically beaming. 

"It's a surprise," Sarah rolled her eyes, holding the door open as Bet nearly skipped back inside. 

Bet did move all of Sarah’s drinks over to her tab once they got back to their spots at the bar, flashing a smile that someone had probably referred to as dazzling while Sarah swirled her refill. 

“I hate giving you the opportunity to monologue again,” Sarah said, buzzed enough to keep from trying to sidestep Bet’s convoluted games for the moment. “But when you said you got a big payout from your workplace, why didn’t you move somewhere more, uh, glamorous than here? You could still find a good gig, you’re a natural performer between the faces and all the lines.”

“I know you’re being backhanded, but it’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me, so thanks,” Bet said, sighing with a wry smile. She seemed a little fidgety, picking at a cuticle before meeting Sarah’s eyes. “The whole thing that went down kind of turned me off from the industry, I guess? Just…the way everything happened, it changed how I saw the world I was in and how I saw myself, so I decided to fuck off to a random ass town and do a reinvention thing. I know it’s dumb, you don’t have to tell me that,” Bet said.

“No, it’s one of the smarter things you’ve said,” Sarah shrugged. “I ran away, too.”

“So, it’s smart because you did it?” Bet teased, but her tone was softer and more inquisitive than jabbing. 

“Just something I relate to,” Sarah said simply. “You can keep going, I know you want to.”

Bet chewed her lip like she was unsure if she’d actually take her up on it, as though Sarah was usually the one setting traps rather than herself. 

“I didn’t used to be scared of anything in my own life,” Bet said. “I had to watch things to feel afraid, because I just did whatever I wanted and I kept getting lucky, or I worked hard and got to my goal and was rewarded for it. It seemed too easy, but it wasn’t like I fought against it, so maybe that’s my fault.”

“If a big company ended up owing you tons of money and they actually paid it, I know it definitely wasn’t your fault,” Sarah said. “I might not be an actor, but I’m still a woman.”

“Yeah,” Bet said, laughing in a cut-off, abrupt way. “I guess I meant I should have known the other shoe was gonna drop someday, you know? Like, it was all too good to be true and maybe I wasn’t actually allowed to have everything I had, even though I wanted it so badly.”

Sarah felt something twinge in her chest at the way Bet spoke about whatever it was that happened, the casual blame she placed on herself for being seemingly forced away from her dreams and paid to stop talking and disappear. It wasn’t pity, more like a combination of understanding and a permanent, tired anger. 

“Maybe that’s why I want you, because I can’t have you and you keep saying you’re a bad idea, so it all flips around in my head to meaning something good will happen when I get you,” Bet said, filling her imaginary levity quota again, bringing herself back to the surface before she got too deep and forgot she was supposed to be pushing Sarah’s buttons. 

“You’re optimistic, considering everything,” Sarah said, sipping her drink. “And I am a bad idea. You're a bad idea for me, too.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Bet said. “Because it means you think about me as an idea in the first place. An option, maybe.”

“Bet," Sarah said. "Your logic really doesn't make any sense."

"So? Nothing makes any sense," Bet said. "Especially not you."

"I make sense, I just don't feel like overexplaining myself all the time," Sarah said. "You don't have to tell everyone everything, either. You could try being subtle."

"I know that, and I actually don't say everything," Bet said. "I'm good at talking a lot without saying much, it isn't as hard as saying the real stuff. You clearly know that, though.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sarah asked, leaning her elbow on the bar as familiar annoyance bubbled over, engulfing the momentary gentleness she felt. 

“You pretend you don’t want me to get to know you, and you don't say anything outside of your cryptic shit about knowing more than I do,” Bet said. “Obviously that makes me want to know more than if you just told me literally anything here and there. At least I give you something.”

“I didn’t ask for anything,” Sarah said, shrugging. “And I don’t owe you personal information just because you like me. You clearly need attention, but it's not my responsibility to give it to you.”

That set Bet off, and Sarah wasn’t sure if she felt bad or not. The tenderness that was growing for her still seemed burdensome, and she wanted to feel relieved that she might be turning her off. 

“You’re so damn defensive,” Bet said. “You want to make fun of me for being immature and for being into you, which is stupid because you could just fuck me and move on if you’re so conflicted,” she continued, her words quick and messy, “but at least I’m honest. You’re so guarded and, like, unwilling to say anything to me that might make you seem like an actual person. You don’t hate me as much as you want to, and I actually like how you treat me because of it, but it’s fucking ridiculous to act like I’m crazy just because I’ve been upfront the whole time.”

Sarah felt her jaw tense as Bet spoke, her teeth scraping against each other almost as uncomfortably as she sat and listened. It wasn’t that Bet was entirely wrong, more the way that she confidently tore at things she didn’t actually know anything about. 

“Do you think that sitting here and telling me about myself is going to make me get vulnerable with you?” Sarah asked. 

“Are you gonna ask me about dead bodies again?” Bet challenged. “Because I’d prefer it if you just fucking told me what happened to you instead of being such a cunt.”

Sarah shook her head, straightening up. 

“Since when am I doing what you prefer?” Sarah asked.

“You keep talking to me, and you already know what I want. If you didn’t feel something, or want something, you should have stopped giving me your time already,” Bet said confidently.

“In that case, I think I’m gonna head out,” Sarah said. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you don’t know what you’re trying to get into, and I'm not going to explain just to get you away from me.”

“That shit doesn’t work on me, that’s what I’m saying,” Bet said, grabbing at Sarah’s arm. “I don't care if you're an asshole, or if you think you're gonna hurt me. I’ll get you another drink, just stay.”

“Why?” Sarah asked, exasperated but not standing up from her barstool. 

“Because I think I’m really close to actually knowing more than the fact that you’re mean and angry and you kind of like me being around,” Bet said. “And it was nice when you let me hug you, and I actually felt like you cared about some of the stuff I said.”

“You suck,” Sarah muttered, annoyed that she was still gnawing at the conversation instead of dropping it. 

“If that’s what you want, I will,” Bet said easily, still finding time for innuendo as she flagged down the bartender with her free hand. “Two holy waters.”

“I’m not being how I am just to punish you. You know that, right?” Sarah asked, Bet’s fingertips still lingering on her arm. 

“I know, that’s why I keep calling you out,” Bet said. “It would be better if you were punishing me, actually. Just…I would rather keep embarrassing myself and know you more than let you leave and never see you again.”

“Such a goddamn drama queen,” Sarah said. “What’s your big question? You get to ask one. Maybe.”

Bet walked her fingers up to her shoulder, seemingly memorizing each touch in case Sarah shook her off. Her brows were slightly furrowed and she looked concentrated, like she was making a truly important decision instead of just thinking of something to ask a near-stranger. Near, but clearly not near enough. 

“How’d you meet your friend you’re gonna ditch me for?” Bet asked, the bartender delivering their drinks wordlessly. 

“Work,” Sarah said, letting Bet continue tracing the material of her shirt. “She’s a coroner.”

“Oh,” Bet said, nodding. “That…yeah, I guess that makes sense with all the corpse talk,” she added, a follow-up seeming to stick to the tip of her tongue. Sarah spoke before she could ask what her job had been.

“I saw her a lot and we were sleeping together for a while, but I don’t know if I would call her a friend. More of a confidant,” Sarah said, taking a sip of her drink. “It was work and sex and conversations about things most people never have to talk about.”

“Are you going to see her soon?” Bet asked. 

“I told her maybe,” Sarah answered. “And you’ll throw a fit if I do?”

“Probably,” Bet said, picking up her glass with the hand that wasn’t attached to Sarah’s shoulder. “Are you gonna fuck her so you’ll be distracted from me?”

“I might,” Sarah said. “You’re kind of ruining my head, I can’t decide what to do about you yet.”

Something activated in Bet’s eyes and she bit her bottom lip, her expression charged.

“So you do think about me like that?” Bet asked, her tone careful like she was weaving her tongue around shards of glass. 

“Your ego’s big enough as it is,” Sarah said. 

“I came thinking about you earlier, I don’t think my ego can stand up to you at all,” Bet said, shifting on her stool so she could lean close enough to drop her forehead onto Sarah’s shoulder, so tender compared to her words. “Just tell me if you think about me when you’re alone.”

It was almost adorable how much Bet needed to hear it, and despite how anger had warmed her whole body briefly but intensely only a few minutes earlier, Sarah felt compelled to give her something to hold in her strange, overwhelming mind.

“I do,” Sarah said, reaching a hand to tap at Bet’s knee more gently than she’d touched her so far. “So don’t go to bed crying tonight or anything, alright? You’re on my mind, and I hate it.”

Bet stayed mostly still, her breath changing slightly and her fingers twitching against the back of Sarah’s neck. She remained where she was as Sarah sipped her drink again, then she rubbed her cheek against Sarah’s shoulder and reminded her once again of some kind of poorly trained cat. 

“God, you’re insufferable,” Sarah said, letting her hand come to rest by Bet’s knee this time and noticing the slight tense of her muscles in response. 

“I wish you’d take me home,” Bet mumbled.

“What was that?” Sarah asked, even though she heard her clearly.

Bet lifted her head, her eyes much too magnetic and her lips appearing too soft. 

“I said I wish you’d take me home,” Bet repeated. “And you won’t, but I want it so bad, Sarah.”

“I know you do,” Sarah said, squeezing her knee. “Not tonight.”

“You’re evil,” Bet said. 

“But at least you know I think about you, right? And I’ll think about you when I’m with someone else, too,” Sarah said, her thumb skimming back and forth on Bet's leg.

“You could just have me now,” Bet said, closer to whining than she was when they were talking outside. 

“I shouldn’t, though,” Sarah said. “Plus, I have a feeling you’ll keep trying either way.”

“I will,” Bet said. 

This time when she leaned in to attempt a kiss, it was much harder to reject the contact. Sarah almost allowed Bet to find her lips, then turned her head and wrapped her free arm around Bet’s shoulders, rubbing softly at her arm just for a moment. Bet ended up with her lips brushing Sarah’s jaw, barely counting as a kiss at all. 

“It’s sweet how you try,” Sarah said. 

“It’s sweet how you let me,” Bet said, only moving to face forward again when Sarah released the hold she had on her, focusing on her drink and gripping her own leg with her other hand so she wouldn't reach out for her again.

Chapter Text

Sarah left before Bet that night, taking her time on her walk home to try and let the cool evening air replace the warmth of Bet's lips against her skin. She knew she was on the edge of a decision that would surely undo the years she'd spent hardening herself against growing attached to someone again, unable to deny the feeling that spiked in her chest when she imagined giving Bet what it was she thought she wanted. She went back over their conversations in her mind, how she kept giving Bet pieces of hope to hold on to, how Bet took them to heart immediately and ran with them like Sarah had said so much more than she thought she did. She wanted to despise her in earnest so it would be easier to stop wondering how Bet would react if she said something truly nice to her, if she touched her in a way that wasn't underscored with some kind of cruelty or painful levels of restraint. She thought about how many times Bet had reminded her that she liked when Sarah was mean, how she looked up at her, eyes wild with desire, when Sarah did things that should hurt or make her afraid. That was more worrisome; part of her feared what would happen if she let the unavoidable instances of fondness spill over, and if that overflow would be what finally drove Bet away. She didn't know if it would be worse to like her and be rejected then, or to say no to her enough times that she finally gave up and disappeared. The latter seemed less likely, but she did unfortunately seem like the type who might be afraid of affection that didn't come with torture. 

When she got home, Sarah poured herself a drink and sat on the couch. She had the momentary urge to turn on her laptop and actually look Bet up online like she'd suggested she might have done already, but that seemed like a bad enough idea that she couldn’t do it despite her curiosity. Photos of her, videos of her, information that would probably cause Bet's claws to sink deeper into the soft insides of her ribcage…it wasn't wise. She pulled out her phone instead. 

Sarah: tomorrow night still good with you?

C: yeah. 8? address is the same.

Sarah: see you then. 

C: k.

Sarah sighed, finishing her drink too quickly as she tried to drown out the unanticipated sense of guilt she already noticed percolating in the back of her mind. She knew Bet would be at the bar tomorrow night, waiting for her, and she'd already confirmed she'd be upset if Sarah went to do exactly what she planned to. She hadn't promised anything, though, and maybe being upset instead of deluded thanks to a couple of decent moments would do her some good. Maybe Sarah could be the one to put an end to whatever had already started if she was able to show Bet how little she could trust her to keep serving as her entertainment. Sarah fell asleep on the couch, trying in vain not to picture the woman she craved like something that could kill her in one hit. 

Sarah didn’t busy herself enough during the day leading up to seeing her non-friend for sex. Her thoughts were filled to the point of nearly giving her a headache, every aspect of Bet and the way she would react overtaking the respite she felt due to having plans for the night that didn’t involve accidentally staring into her eyes for too long or touching her more tenderly than she meant to. She made herself something to eat, pretended to tidy up her home, and sat. She sat with the news on in the background until it was time to leave, glad it wasn't hot outside so she could at least walk instead of showing up sober in her car. 

They didn’t talk much once Sarah arrived; it was strange seeing someone again after nearly a year who seemed like she hadn't changed at all, but Cali didn't offer much in ways of life updates and Sarah didn't press. She followed her to her room that Sarah had seen countless times and sat at the edge of her bed, pulling Cali onto her lap easily with her hands comfortably on her thighs, no warmup needed. They kissed slowly, because Sarah knew Cali liked that. She liked to roleplay that it wasn't just sex. She liked a bit of story, sometimes an unspoken one, and Sarah didn't mind it especially in contrast to her extremely dry style of conversation that made Sarah sound like a cheerleader. When they actually worked together, the stories of forbidden trysts felt more real considering the conflict of interest that came along with fucking the coroner who worked on so many of her cases. Now, it was all fantasy, as it had been for years despite their meetups becoming less and less frequent. Sarah moved one hand to Cali's waist and ran the other through her long hair, gathering it in her fist and pulling slightly so she could reach her neck and spread kisses over her smooth skin. Her teeth joined occasionally, but there was something else she wanted between them.

"Sarah, we shouldn't," Cali said, and Sarah had the passing thought that she actually wasn't a very good actress. 

The voice she put on was high and soft, and Sarah bit her neck to quiet her. 

"Nobody's going to know," she murmured against her pulse point, playing along halfheartedly. "I know you want me inside you."

Sarah shamelessly shut her eyes as her pretend lover rolled her hips on her lap, imagining it was Bet on top of her. It didn't work completely, but it was enough to make her heart beat faster as she moved back to kissing her lips. She moved her tongue into Cali's mouth, only imagining what Bet would taste like, the sounds she would make, how her body would feel against her like this. Someone else might feel guilty for picturing another woman in such a moment, but Sarah knew that Cali saw her as an outlet, too. She was a distraction, a way to let off steam, a means to an orgasm without any strings. That's how it always was with them, and that was why she was the only one Sarah was with consistently ever since she quit relationships cold turkey. She could actually keep things separate instead of just saying so, like work and sex or physical intimacy and emotions, and she needed something uncomplicated that Sarah thought she needed when they met, too. There was plenty of overlap that most would find unsavory when it came to Sarah’s past marriage, but Cali never cared. She even dropped out of her life when Sarah had a serious girlfriend, and she didn’t ask questions when Sarah called her again. Tonight, they followed their usual cadence, kisses growing sloppier and hands more aggressive until Cali's clothes began shedding. It was simple, a routine she'd done plenty of times before, and Sarah couldn't help but wish she was facing something messy and furious instead.

"How do you want me?" Cali asked, always demanding to be told what to do because she said it felt hotter that way. 

"Hands on the bed," Sarah answered, knowing it would be easier for her to think of Bet if she wasn't looking at Cali's face.

She closed her eyes again the moment she could, holding onto Cali’s hip and plunging her fingers into wet heat. The squeals and moans that the motion elicited didn't do much for Sarah tonight, but she kept going, saying the things she knew would get the other woman off. Her words were largely empty, a flurry of phrases she barely heard as they left her mouth and her mind ran on a parallel track focused elsewhere. She grabbed Cali's hair again, usually enjoying the feeling of holding it like a tight leash more than she was at the moment. She thought of Bet when she added another finger, wondering how many she could take, what she'd like to be called, how she'd look bent over for her. She pulled on the long, dark hair that she gripped, moving her wrist faster as Cali reached between her own legs to rub herself expertly. Sarah debated if Bet would be the impatient type, too, or if she'd let Sarah work her up as long as she wanted and take credit for her climax without lifting a finger herself. 

"Cum for me, princess," Sarah murmured, trying to feel present as Cali clenched around her, moaning her name pornographically and pushing back against her fingers. 

Sarah let her ride out her orgasm to her heart's content, holding up her fingers when Cali pulled away so she could grab Sarah's wrist and lick them like she preferred to do. She looked up at Sarah, perched on the edge of the bed and batting her long lashes up at her as she sucked her fingers clean before releasing them from her full lips with a soft noise of satisfaction. 

"Thanks," she said, her voice back to her normal pitch as she rearranged her hair. "Want me to do you?"

"It's alright, actually," Sarah said, watching her as she got dressed. 

She was incredibly beautiful, perfect in as many senses of the word Sarah could think of, and seeing her in various states of clothedness did next to nothing for Sarah this time. This time, she looked like an impeccable painting when she wanted a sculpture.

"There's a girl, isn't there?" Cali asked without looking at her, clasping her bra.

"What?" Sarah asked, unsure if she heard her correctly. 

"You always want head after," Cali said, shrugging. "So you must have something better waiting for you."

Cali wasn't upset, and she never would be. She was just perceptive and liked being right.

"It's not like that," Sarah said. 

"You want it to be," Cali replied, leading the way out of the bedroom. "And that's embarrassing."

Sarah followed her, sitting on the couch as Cali grabbed a bottle and two glasses. 

"Are we talking?" Sarah asked, slightly amused. 

"I want a drink, you like to drink, so I figured we could drink," Cali deadpanned. 

"Sure," Sarah said. "Just not used to you asking questions."

"Don't overthink it, I've just been uninspired lately. Kind of want to hear about something that isn't dead today, if you'd believe that. Is she like us?" Cali asked, handing Sarah her glass. 

Sarah knew what she meant in asking that, and unless Bet was lying about everything she'd said so far, hardly anything about the two of them could be applied to her.

"No, she's…eh, innocent definitely isn't the right word, but she seems like she's from a different planet compared to you and me. Naive, for sure," Sarah said. 

"God, you sound stupid," Cali said, rolling her eyes. "And like a fucking pervert."

"You know what I mean. Naive about the world, and people, not like she's eighteen or something," Sarah said. 

"Okay, well, all you said was she's naive and that sounds insane," Cali responded. It was refreshing, at least, not to feel like she was in some sort of complicated mind game during this back and forth. She was hung up on Bet, yes, but Cali kept things to-the-point in a way that could give her brain a break.

"She was an actress," Sarah said, taking a sip of her drink. "And it shows. Not just her looks, but her whole…thing. I don't know."

"Doesn't sound like someone you'd like," Cali said. 

"I know, that's part of the problem," Sarah said. "But she's not typical, it's hard to describe her. She quit because something bad happened. She had some big TV show that she dropped out of college for and got paid off so the network could cover up whatever went on, I think. She didn't tell me details, just that she got a big chunk of money and left her career, so that's what it sounded like."

"A traumatized ingenue, wow, Christ," the woman said, tapping her long fingernails on her own glass. "I'd say nice job, but I don't know what a girl like that would want with some ornery old bitch like you."

"Thanks, sweetheart. I've been wondering the same thing," Sarah said. "She's really pushy and persistent, and annoying as hell, but she latched on to me and she won't give up. It hasn't been long, but--"

"Long for you, I know," Cali said. 

"Yeah. She doesn't listen when I tell her she's making a mistake going after anything with me. Too stubborn, too full of herself, but then she acts needy. She's all over the place," Sarah said, taking a longer sip this time. 

"You're blaming her like she's something that's happening to you, but you did something to make her keep trying," Cali said, inspecting herself in the reflection of her turned-off phone. 

"I think I did a lot without meaning to," Sarah admitted. "Or I meant to, but I didn't want to mean it."

"And you haven't fucked her?" Cali asked. 

"How do you know that?" Sarah asked, scoffing. 

"Because you sound like you like her," Cali said. "And unless you're a completely different person now, you don't sleep with women you actually want to be with because of the whole thing with your last girlfriend," Cali waved her hand. "Don't look so surprised that I remember things, you're just such a drag sometimes I stop paying attention."

"That's still true about not getting attached, I promise I didn't come over here because I want to marry you," Sarah said. "But she is relentlessly inappropriate, so it makes it…difficult. She's touchy, she gets off on me being mean to her, she talks about sex constantly, she keeps trying to kiss me…I feel like I'm dodging a swarm of really horny bees."

"You have a hot, young, rich former actress who isn't put off by literally everything about you throwing herself at you, and you're rejecting her? Sar, you must love being miserable. Just let me have her instead, damn."

"She fucked a girl in the bar bathroom so hard she was walking sideways after just because we ran into each other in the grocery store and I made fun of her for being short," Sarah said. 

"How does that even connect?" Cali asked. 

"She'd been trying to tell me she could top me, then I made her jump for a box of pasta she couldn't reach. I think she was trying to prove something, maybe make me jealous," Sarah said.

"Did it work?" Cali asked. 

"I pushed her into a wall that night and she said she got wet," Sarah said. 

"Since you don't hear how, like, weird and fucked up all of that is, it sounds like you're a perfect match," Cali said. 

They sipped their drinks in silence for a while, recharging from talking longer than they had excluding during sex in the last several years combined.

"Why won't you let yourself have her if you want her?" Cali asked.

"I don't want anything to change," Sarah said simply. 

"But everything fucking sucks for you, so why not try something that could be a good time? The world keeps turning either way," Cali said. 

"She's dumb, she knows I'm probably going to hurt her and she says she doesn't care," Sarah said.

"So? That's her choice. I think you're scared of her hurting you," Cali said. "Either that, or you're actually worried about messing up with her."

"I'm not scared, it just seems like a lot of work," Sarah excused.

"You suck ass at lying to me, but whatever," Cali said. 

They quietly finished their drinks and Sarah stood to leave. 

"She told me she'd throw a jealous tantrum if I came to see you," Sarah said. 

"She should, I'm the best," Cali said. "Later, Christ. Or not."

"Later, or not," Sarah said, stepping back outside and feeling some combination of relief and dread. 

It felt good acknowledging certain realities out loud to someone who would tell her the truth without any personal stake in the situation, but Sarah hated getting confirmation that things with Bet were going to come to a head one way or another. She would either actually succeed in driving her away and go back to coping in solitude knowing that there was finally someone who lit her up inside again, Bet would get tired of trying to get her to open up and move on, or they'd try something and it wouldn't work out and Sarah would hate herself more than before for believing she could actually be with somebody again. It was also hard to hear how obvious it was that she liked her at all when she couldn't even admit it to herself. Part of her had hoped Cali would say Bet sounded immature and like too much trouble, but the most honest person she knew said they sounded like a good pair and that was the sort of thing that she couldn't let go. She knew she'd have to decide what to do soon, but now her feet propelled her to the bar.

She walked up to the bar, sliding onto her usual stool and deliberately avoiding looking around for Bet in case she was with another woman again. She expected to see her appear, of course, but she wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting herself assume anything so soon after a conversation that felt more revealing the longer she had to chew on the details of it. 

“She was here earlier,” the bartender said when he appeared with her drink. “Said to use her card for when you got here, too, so don’t worry about leaving cash on your way out.”

“Oh, alright…hey, what’s your name again?” Sarah remembered she’d been meaning to ask.

“It’s Charlie,” he said, looking at her peculiarly. “Did she call you yet?”

“What? She doesn’t have my number,” Sarah said, narrowing her eyes. “And why are you so obsessed with me and her, anyway?”

“This place is fucking boring and you’re here every night, I’m just being a wingman,” he said, shrugging. “Plus, she lets me make actual cocktails sometimes instead of warm vodka, so I like her.”

“Okay, but she can’t call me,” Sarah said, sipping her drink.

“I gave her your number,” Charlie said, and Sarah blinked in surprise. 

“What do you mean? You don’t have my phone number,” Sarah said. “What the fuck?”

“Sarah, like I said you’re here every damn night,” Charlie began, “and I know your tolerance is high, but sometimes you black out. You’ve given me your phone number at least five separate times.”

“Why would I do that?” Sarah asked. 

“You’re always like ‘hey, bar boy’,” he started an impression of her that she should find offensive, “‘if you ever need me to find someone for you, just call me. I’m Sarah Christ’.”

“Oof. Hard to hear,” Sarah said. “And you’re just giving out my personal information to random girls who ask for it?”

“I don’t think she’s a random girl to you, I’ve seen plenty of those,” Charlie said. “If the girl who chucked her shoe at you and then threw up all over the bar asked, I wouldn’t have given it to her.”

“That’s because you had to clean the puke,” Sarah said, drumming her fingertips on the bar. 

“Your girl was pissed, I’m sure she’ll call,” Charlie said, flashing a smile that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the conversation before walking away. 

Sarah checked her phone, not seeing any messages or missed calls so far, but she left it in sight as she sipped her drink. She was about to order another when it finally rang, picking up and heading outside so she could smoke while she took on what she was about to endure.

“Hey, kid,” Sarah said, flicking her lighter with her phone tucked into her shoulder. “Been doing some recon?”

“Fuck you,” Bet spat. “I told you I’d be mad and you still went to see her.”

“We don’t have a standing date, you come to my bar to see me,” Sarah said. “And then you asked for my number like you’re tracking me down? Even you have to admit, it’s a lot.”

Sarah found it a lot easier to keep up with Bet when she wasn’t looking at her in person, knowing that she was at home thinking of her instead of trying to get a rise with her unfairly sweet face. 

“You knew what you were doing,” Bet said. “I wasn’t going to wait around all night for you, so yeah, I got your number and went home.”

“How long did you wait, though?” Sarah asked, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“Not that long, actually,” Bet said. “Guess it wasn’t as good as you remembered if you’re already back there.”

“You’re pathetic,” Sarah said, the corner of her mouth upturned. “You would have waited hours.”

“So, what? I wanted to see you,” Bet said. “Tell me about your date.”

“It wasn’t a date, and it was fine,” Sarah said. “She’s as hot as ever, and we actually talked after.”

“Oh, so you like girls who talk now?” Bet asked. “You’re lucky I’m not there.”

“Am I? Because I’d love to see you pouting about it, you’re cute when you’re angry,” Sarah said. 

“Tell me about it,” Bet said after a beat of silence.

“Excuse me?” Sarah asked. 

“Tell me about fucking her,” Bet said, her voice dropping. “I want to hear about it, since it was so worth your time.” 

“You’re obnoxious,” Sarah said. “Do people your age not know about free porn? Go look something up.”

“Sarah,” Bet said. “Tell me.”

“Fine,” Sarah said, taking another drag before setting her cigarette in the ashtray and leaning back against the wall. “We went to her room and I sat on her bed, then I pulled her onto my lap. She’s a little taller than you, not much, though,” Sarah said, and it was despicable how she was already more excited to recount the hookup to Bet than she’d been while it was happening. 

“What was she wearing?” Bet asked.

“Little strappy tank top, matching lace bra and panties, some kind of soft shorts,” Sarah said. “They weren’t on long, I didn’t notice much.”

Sarah heard Bet’s breath pause for less than a second, and she wondered if she was in bed. She figured she wouldn’t have to ask if she kept going. 

“She likes kissing, so we made out for a while,” Sarah said, remembering more details than she thought she would considering she was barely paying attention. “I was holding her thighs, then her ass.”

Sarah heard another interruption in Bet’s breath, then a slight rustle, but she didn’t say anything so Sarah continued.

“I grabbed her by her hair and started kissing her neck, biting it,” Sarah said. “I know what she likes, so she was getting impatient. She said we shouldn’t be doing what we were doing, so I bit her harder so she’d be quiet and said I knew she wanted it and nobody would find out.”

Bet’s hard exhale was unmistakable then, but Sarah didn’t want her to interrupt whatever it was she was doing in case it turned out she felt like Sarah would stop her story because of it. 

“She started grinding on my lap and we kissed some more, I had one hand on her ass and one grabbing through her top, but she wanted to start undressing.”

If Sarah didn’t know how unabashed Bet could be, she would doubt that she was actually touching herself, but it absolutely seemed like something she would be doing after getting mad at Sarah for being with someone else. 

“She asked where I wanted her, and I told her to bend over and put her hands on the bed,” Sarah said, her voice lower, partially so she could listen for any sounds that Bet let slip. “And then I fucked her from behind, holding her by her hip then by her hair. I told her she was a filthy slut and that she felt so good on my fingers, and she really liked that. She’s so loud, and when she was close she started rubbing herself.”

Bet huffed on the other end of the call, a tiny something catching in her throat, and that sound alone was better than anything Sarah had heard all day. 

“I was pulling her hair and going harder, then I called her ‘princess’ and told her to cum for me,” Sarah said. “She did, and she was still fucking herself on my fingers when I stopped moving.”

Sarah paused long enough to hear the faintest moan from Bet, but it was so quiet, like she was keeping it from her. 

“She licked herself off of my fingers and we were done, but you wanna know something?” Sarah asked when she caught another sound. “I was thinking about you the whole time.”

Sarah heard another more pronounced rustling noise this time, like Bet had dropped her phone. There was a quiet whine, then Bet’s breathing again, louder.

“You thought about me,” Bet said, like she was trying to conceal what she’d so obviously just done. 

“I said I would, Bet,” Sarah murmured. “And it was hard to even picture you there, because I know it wouldn’t be like that at all.”

“Are you still gonna be at the bar if I show up?” Bet asked. “I want to see you.”

“You can see me,” Sarah said. “But I’m still going to be mean to you, probably.”

“I’ll be there, and if you leave I’ll blow your phone up and ruin your night,” Bet said. “Bye.”

“See you soon,” Sarah said when she realized she was still on the phone, hanging up and retrieving her cigarette so she could relight it and finish instead of sitting at the bar and staring at the door.

Chapter Text

Sarah didn't know how close Bet lived to the bar, but it seemed like she rushed from wherever her home was because she didn't have to wait long for her to arrive. She had time to smoke and use the restroom, and only a few minutes later Bet appeared. It felt strange to actually wait for her instead of actively pretending not to care where she was, but it had been a strange night. Bet was wearing a cropped tee and jeans when she appeared, a haphazardly placed clip holding some of her bed-mussed hair out of her face, and she made a beeline for Sarah. It was almost funny, as Sarah turned slightly on her stool, how Bet looked dazed as she marched towards her without a word of greeting and grabbed her by the shoulder once she was close enough. 

"Hey, Bet," Sarah said calmly. "You okay? You look pink," she said as she pressed the back of one hand to Bet's cheek. 

Bet turned her head and kissed her knuckles, then smiled. It wasn't her proud catlike grin, her eyes more calm and her mouth closed like she was holding in a secret. Sarah had tensed slightly at the feeling of her lips, knowing she could easily feel them against her own if she just guided Bet's face toward her. 

"I'm fine," Bet said, running her hand along Sarah's arm before sitting down. 

"Sounded like you had a nice time on our phone call," Sarah goaded, her hand dropping to rest on Bet's thigh. 

She needed to feel her somehow, just a little to hold her over, to temporarily dampen the desire she had to hear more of Bet’s noises without obstruction. Bet seemed bashful but pleased, nodding slightly. Her demeanor had already changed from when she walked in, and for a moment Sarah thought she was gearing up for some sort of joke, but she was staring at Sarah's hand and resting both of her own on her unoccupied thigh like she was scared of her touch. 

"Are you being shy?" Sarah asked, genuinely surprised by the notion of Bet without her overblown sense of self. 

"No," Bet mumbled, not even trying to make defiant eye contact. 

"You are," Sarah said. "Who knew all it took was me hearing you cum over the phone?"

"Sarah," Bet protested quietly, as if anyone was paying attention to their conversation. “Stop it.”

"I haven't seen you like this before, it's cute," Sarah said. "Your sounds were cute, too."

"I thought you said you were going to be mean to me," Bet said like it would take away the reddening glow on her cheeks, Sarah's hand shifting slightly further up her thigh. 

"I am being mean, dummy," Sarah said. "I wouldn’t push you around when you're probably still all sensitive, and I think it's meaner for you not to have that kind of distraction while you sit here and think about what you did."

Bet bit her lip, shaking her head. It really was surreal to see her acting so reserved, especially when she'd been the one demanding to hear about Sarah's sex with Cali in detail and asking to come see her. If Bet knew she got like this after finishing, it was an odd choice to even want to be around Sarah in such a vulnerable state, but Sarah couldn't work out what that implied one way or the other. Regardless, Bet’s change in behavior was only amplifying the deep, frustrated stirring Sarah was more willing to claim now. She kept her hand on her thigh, squeezing lightly and enjoying having Bet there in her softened state. 

"Charlie," Sarah called, and Bet hid her face in her hands.

Sarah held back her next urge, which was to ask her why she was covering up the way that she was, and instead marked the fact that Bet reacted that way at all as something to keep in mind in case she ever did end up with her hands on her in private. 

"Oh, good, she's back," Charlie said. "Does she want a martini?"

"No, she needs something else," Sarah said. "She's having a rough night," she added as a joke just for herself, her hand moving up closer to the middle seam of Bet's jeans. "Probably could use some tequila. Double shot of silver with training wheels, I'll just take my usual."

Bet was squeezing her legs together to try and block Sarah's touch, but that was just making her squirm anyway. It was enticing to Sarah to witness her lose track of her curated sense of control. Bet only took her hands away from her face when Charlie returned with her shot, a lime wedge, and a salt shaker, and even then she looked like she was waiting for instruction.

"I'll help," Sarah said, licking the side of her hand and salting it once he’d dropped off her drink as well. 

"You're such a bitch," Bet said, reaching for the salt herself too late as Sarah had already moved it out of her reach. "Whatever, I don't even need fucking training wheels."

"I think you do tonight," Sarah said pointedly, picking up the lime wedge in her other hand. 

"I'm not licking up your spit," Bet said without the usual bite to her tone, her legs still pressed together. 

"Why not? Jealous you didn't get to lick yourself off my fingers like Cali did?" Sarah taunted. 

Bet seemed to have to resist the physical urge to actually pout at her, and Sarah moved her hand closer to her tempting mouth. She raised an expectant brow, and Bet finally met her eyes.

"Of course I'm jealous," she said, leaning forward and licking the salt from Sarah's hand slowly, dragging her tongue further than the grains reached. 

She took too much time, her tongue clearly experienced and her lips sneaking kisses against Sarah’s skin. The sight made Sarah want to stick her thumb in her mouth, but she only watched. Bet's eyes looking up at her while her mouth was dropped open served as more than a nice visual, and she could think of a few other contexts in which she'd enjoy the act of her tongue swirling around something of Sarah’s even more. 

"Enough," Sarah said, pulling her hand away. Bet took the shot, then tilted her head. "Open."

Bet obeyed more quickly this time, parting her lips and accepting the lime wedge. She reached for her mouth to take it out once she'd bitten down, but Sarah stopped her with her own fingers between her lips. 

"You're on good behavior tonight," Sarah said as Bet released her teeth, pulling the lime away slowly just to see the trail of saliva connecting it to Bet's mouth. "Even with the backtalk."

"Maybe I'm trying to get a prize," Bet said, wiping the spit that had ended up on her chin on the back of her hand. 

"Hm, I don't know, I think you're feeling a little off your game," Sarah said. "You didn't even brag to me about how you were touching yourself while I talked. I think you liked it too much and it felt too good and now you're a mess."

Bet looked away from her eyes again, and Sarah knew she was right.

"I know you're not going to give me what I want right now," Bet said. 

"That's right," Sarah said. "But?"

"But I'm still going to try to kiss you later, just in case," Bet said. 

"Thanks for the heads up, but I already knew that," Sarah said. "You try to kiss me every time you see me."

"Almost every time," Bet corrected. 

"Right," Sarah said, replacing her hand on Bet's thigh, at a safer distance than before but still high enough to make Bet readjust on her stool again. "And since it's so flattering that you won't give up, I'll give you something before we leave."

"Oh? Like what?" Bet asked, and Sarah found it charming how easy it was to excite her with a promise.

"I'm still deciding," Sarah said. “But it’ll be something you like.”

"Okay, I can live with that," Bet said.

"How was the shot?" Sarah asked, not wanting to dwell too long on what she wanted to promise Bet. 

"Pretty good, with your hands involved," Bet said. “I’m still jealous.”

“I could tell, you really didn’t have to lick my whole hand and stare up at me like you wanted something else in your mouth,” Sarah said. 

“Of course you strap,” Bet said after a moment of calculation.

“I didn’t say that,” Sarah countered. “You’re talking about your fantasies again.”

“Maybe, but now I know you might have been picturing me on my knees for you,” Bet said. “And I wouldn’t mind gagging on it, babe.” 

“You’re going to work yourself back up if you keep talking,” Sarah warned. 

“I never really came down,” Bet said, biting at her bottom lip. “You could tell, though.”

“Of course I could,” Sarah said. “All quiet and shy, acting like a completely different girl. Makes me wonder what you’ll be like after I make you cum with my hands.” 

“Is that a threat?” Bet asked.

“No, you like threats too much,” Sarah said. 

“Coming from you, I do,” Bet said, reaching for Sarah’s drink.

“Hey, get your own,” Sarah said, but she didn’t actually mind.

“I bought it,” Bet returned, taking a generous sip. 

Sarah just chuckled, shaking her head as she passed it back. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bet blurted suddenly. 

“You’re going to, but I can’t say if I’ll answer,” Sarah said.

“What was your job before?” Bet asked. “I’ve really been trying to let you keep doing your whole mysterious past thing, and I get it, but I can’t stop wondering.”

“I was a homicide detective,” Sarah said, sure that Bet wasn’t going to let it go if she didn’t give her an answer.

The statement hovered between them, and the part of Sarah that hoped it would be enough to make Bet reconsider her advances was smaller than she would have previously wanted. She observed the curiosity and surprise on her face, unsure what to do with it.

“Holy shit,” Bet said eventually. “Sorry, that’s just…I don’t know what I expected, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Sarah responded plainly. “Got a follow up question?”

“Is that okay?” Bet asked. “You’re usually so cagey, I’m surprised you answered in the first place.”

“This is me being nice because you’ve embarrassed yourself so much tonight,” Sarah said. 

“Whatever, I’ll take it,” Bet said. “Were you ever on TV?”

Sarah had expected a more gratuitous question, feeling momentarily thrown as she often was with Bet. She thought she might have asked about her most gruesome case or why she wasn’t at the job anymore, so she was silent for a second.

“The news, yeah, but nothing like your fancy comedy shit,” Sarah said once she’d gathered herself. “Just normal interviews.”

“No, I know, I just realized that’s probably why you looked familiar,” Bet said, her tone strangely careful like she didn’t want to give too much away. “I used to be really into true crime. Not in, like, a gawky way, I just thought it was interesting.”

It was ironic that Bet might have seen Sarah on TV when she’d been the famous one, but she guessed it made sense some old clip or her might have ended up in a documentary or something. 

“Not anymore, though?” Sarah asked. 

Bet shook her head, making yet another face that Sarah hadn’t seen from her before. It wasn’t completely sad, but it was one that seemed to hold back something more painful than what she wished to put forward in the moment. It made Sarah much more nervous than her smirks.

“Well, I don’t watch any of those shows. Just the news, sometimes,” Sarah said. “So I wouldn’t have seen whatever it was that you saw me in, if you even did.”

“Right,” Bet nodded, taking a deep breath. “Can we go outside?”

“Sure,” Sarah said, bringing the now-shared drink along with her as Bet trailed behind.

“You doing alright?” Sarah asked, noticing that Bet seemed to crave fresh air more than a cigarette in the moment. 

“Yeah, I just don’t want to do a whole thing,” Bet said vaguely. 

“What whole thing?” Sarah asked, sipping from her glass before passing it to Bet who clearly seemed to need it. 

“I’m trying to think of how you’d say it,” Bet said after taking a sip. “Maybe, like, ‘this is something that’ll change how you see me once I tell you’, or some equally broad shit that doesn’t give you a lot but stresses you out a little.” 

“Okay, now say the Bet version,” Sarah said, aware that she wanted to express something more clear. “I know what I think about you already, and I’m letting you talk, so say whatever you want.”

Bet took a deep breath, her eyes flitting to the other few people smoking outside.

“They won’t care, just say it,” Sarah said, stepping just a bit closer to her in case volume was her concern.

“I had a stalker,” Bet said. “Not, like, a fan who was too passionate, but an actual one.” 

Sarah’s stomach dropped just enough to remind her how much she secretly cared. She didn’t like how Bet felt she had to qualify what she said with some kind of actuality as though Sarah didn’t know what a stalker was, but she knew it wasn’t personal. That constant anger she muted with alcohol daily felt so justified now, knowing that someone had surely told Bet she knew what she was inviting by daring to follow her passions in the public eye. Somebody probably made her feel like she deserved what this person did to her because she wanted to be seen for what she worked to accomplish, and that made Sarah wish she still had a gun and the connections to use it where it was needed. 

“You stopped liking crime shows because it happened to you,” Sarah stated, hating the way Bet was holding onto her own arm and shrinking into herself instead of standing taller than she was.

“Yeah, and he fucking ruined everything,” Bet said, finishing the rest of the drink and throwing the glass at the ground hard enough to shatter it in a sparkling spray without so much as a change in her facial expression. 

The other outdoor smokers reacted, gasping and muttering, and Sarah shot a glare that silenced them all quickly. Bet just stood there, eyes glazed over like she was actually somewhere else entirely. 

“She dropped it, it happens,” Sarah spat at a lingering observer, not willing to let Bet be seen by anyone else when she was feeling this way.

“I’m sorry,” Bet said, sounding detached from herself. “I didn’t mean to.”

She sounded so unlike herself, and it made Sarah close to rageful to know she could lose her so carefully practiced cool at all, let alone due to a man who would be dead in the ground if Sarah came across him. 

“Shut up,” Sarah said, more softly than she’d spoken to Bet so far. “No apologies. Do you want to stay out here?”

“Yes,” Bet said. “But you don’t have do anything for me,” she added. “Just go back in, I made it about myself.”

Too many things were clicking into place for Sarah to keep track of now, and she was mortified by the realization that Cali was right about how she felt towards Bet, but she couldn’t be snarky with her when she’d just shared something somewhat casually that Sarah saw as incredibly serious. 

“I know I don’t have to do anything for you,” Sarah said, regulating her own voice so Bet wouldn’t become more upset than she was already trying not to be. “But I’m staying until you go home, and I promised you something.”

Bet was holding back tears, and Sarah didn’t want to see them if she wasn’t supposed to. She looked away, lighting a cigarette between her lips and holding it out beside her until Bet pulled it from her fingers. She lit a second for herself, smoking beside Bet and trying not to hear her sniffling. The sound didn’t go with the woman she’d met, and it made her uncomfortable but she wasn’t going to leave. She knew what it felt like to accidentally snap like that, to have the hurt bubble up in an unexpected way in front of the wrong person or at the wrong time. This wasn’t a moment to tease her for putting on an act and losing her hold on it; the discrepancies in her performance were fun on a superficial level, like earlier when she was sexually compromised, but this wasn’t that. Sarah wanted to have her at her best, when she felt sure of herself and confident enough to tell her to her face she could knock her down a peg, and she wanted to be the one to make her cry from something so filled with desire it nearly knocked her out. She didn’t enjoy, even for a moment, the sound of Bet trying to quell excruciating tears at her side. She waited each minute until she couldn’t hear her muted sobs anymore, discarding her cigarette before facing her and scanning her face. She was still devastatingly lovely to look at, of course, but she looked too sad. Sarah wanted to see her crying in an entirely different way, something possessive and protective and ultimately unrealistic overtaking her own resistance to connecting with Bet in the first place. 

“What?” Bet asked defensively as she noticed her gaze, no trace of playfulness in her voice. 

“Come here, now,” Sarah said, opening her arms. “I’m not joking.”

Bet accepted the invitation after a moment of hesitation, wrapping both arms around Sarah’s waist. Instead of just standing there as she had before, Sarah hugged her tightly. She placed both arms around her, one hand on the back of Bet’s head as she pulled her closer. 

“You really don’t have to,” Bet said, squeezing her tighter despite her own words. “You don’t like to hug, you hated it when I tried.”

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to,” Sarah said, stroking the back of her hair. “You can annoy me tomorrow, but I’m not annoyed now, so just be quiet. And I fucking like it when you try.”

Bet nodded against her chest, and Sarah didn’t know how she could possibly get away from her at this point. She had barely explained what happened with the stalker, but the small piece of her puzzle that had fallen so horribly into place changed the way Sarah saw her entirely, just like she’d predicted. The broken glass littering the ground had nothing on whatever shattered within Sarah, causing emotions to bloom and bloat that she never wanted to touch again. Bet lifted her head from Sarah’s chest, standing on her toes and trying for the kiss she’d already said she would want again tonight, and Sarah only turned her head away slightly this time. Bet’s lips touched the corner of hers, and Sarah allowed her to stay there, still holding the back of her head like she was something fragile instead of dangerously reckless.

“Please,” Bet whispered, her breath burning along Sarah’s cheek before she kissed the side of her mouth again.

“Not like this,” Sarah denied, knowing that what she wanted to do would create an association she wanted no part of. “But hop up.”

Sarah unwrapped her arms, guiding Bet’s around her neck before bending down to gather a secure hold on her. Bet jumped up, so easy to hold as Sarah’s hands gripped her thighs, and she placed her lips on her forehead as Bet locked her ankles behind her back. 

“It’s getting a lot harder to say no to you,” Sarah said quietly, her lips still somewhere near Bet’s hair. “But I don’t want you to ever think it’s because I pity you. Even if you didn’t tell me anything tonight, I wouldn’t kiss you right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Bet whispered. “And you still think I’m stupid and annoying but kind of a badass, right?”

“Of course,” Sarah said, using one arm to support Bet so she could free a hand and push her hair away from the side of her neck.

She kissed the space that tensed the most as Bet turned her head, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Bet’s breath caught and she exhaled with a pretty, quiet sound that Sarah tried to commit to memory before pulling away. She took in the scent of her skin and the expression on Bet’s face as she looked at her, then she released her hold as Bet unwrapped her legs and dropped back to the ground. She didn’t feel like she needed to share at the moment why it was that she couldn’t bring her back to her place, or why she felt like she changed when Bet said what she did. If they talked about it too much now, Sarah anticipated Bet being the one who might just run away, and she was too selfish to let her go because she accidentally got ahead of herself and let Sarah see her falter in her own eyes. Sarah didn’t need to tell Bet she thought she was brave, because she was the type to somehow twist that around to sounding like she shouldn’t have been truthful at all.  

“Go home, I’ll tell Charlie to clean up out here,” Sarah said decisively. “You should rest.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Bet asked, one hand at her neck, touching the place Sarah had kissed. 

“Probably,” Sarah said. “And now you can reach me, anyway.”

Bet nodded, something frozen on her lips that she decided not to say before going back inside. Sarah watched her go before lighting another cigarette, not sure how to go home when she knew that this time she’d just be passing the minutes until she saw Bet again with no distractions in between.

Chapter Text

Sarah went home from the bar with far too many thoughts and not enough places to store them. She tried to stop thinking about Bet and what she'd shared, the way she shut down, the sound of her crying, but it was all too much and she ended up pacing around her living room. She fantasized about finding the stalker and absolutely obliterating him, she drank, she tried to listen to the TV, and she drank some more. There was a switch that flipped inside of her when she heard about certain topics, her skewed priorities and immense urge to protect often overriding everything else in sight in the past. She tried to tone it down in all the ways she could, but it wasn't a part of her that she could just give up. She didn't like how it was easier to give up other things, like relationships and connections to family and her own sanity for the most part, but in many ways it was unavoidable. She felt like a hypocrite for using the same women she cherished more than anything as distractions, and that could be part of why Bet confused her so intensely. She wasn't spending time with her in her usual way, and now she had the urge to watch over her as well. It felt good to comfort her, and to give her just a little of what she wanted so badly, but that thought was somewhere between thrilling and terrifying. She couldn’t see into Bet’s mind and know what exactly she was getting out of this back and forth, no matter how honest she seemed. She didn’t know how much she would care if Bet was hiding something, and that was new. She liked to be at least a step ahead, preferably several, but lately she was letting someone skip in circles around her. She made coffee sometime in the early hours of the morning, certain she wouldn't be sleeping, and drank it too hot as she tried to decide whether or not to look into Bet's case online. It felt like a violation, so she decided against it, because Bet would tell her if she wanted her to know any more and she would pretend she'd never said anything at all if that was what she wanted instead. The way she glossed over the details upon mentioning it initially made Sarah's mind run wild with horrible possibilities, and maybe Bet could sense the rage that was ready to explode if she named the actions that brought her to the decision to leave her dreams behind. She almost thought she was imagining it when her phone rang, having lost track of the time as sunlight streamed through her windows.

"Hey, shadow," Sarah answered. "It's early."

"I know, sorry," Bet said. "I slept like shit and I'm gonna go get breakfast. Wanna come?"

Sarah was surprised at the invitation, considering the prospect of spending time with Bet in the light of day as though she had other plans. 

"You're going to have to sell it to me, I'm not much of a breakfast person," she said. 

"I can pick you up, I'm paying, and the place serves drinks," Bet said. "Plus, I'll be there, and you like me."

"You have such a great imagination," Sarah said. "Give me a few minutes to shower, I'll send my address."

"Okay, but why can't I just come over now and watch?" Bet asked. 

"It's not even nine in the morning, you're already picturing me naked?" Sarah asked. 

"Yep, all day every day," Bet said. "See you soon, and try to dry your hair this time."

"See you," Sarah said, sighing once she hung up. 

She got ready quickly after texting Bet her address, unsurprised that she replied with a series of nonsensical hearts and stars. She decided against wearing her usual jacket, opting for jeans and one of her more fitted button ups. She didn't tend to overthink her appearance, and this certainly wasn't a date, but she didn't go out to eat often and figured a little effort wasn't a bad idea. When Bet texted that she was out front, Sarah determined that her hair was an appropriate level of dryness before she was greeted by one of the most obnoxious SUV's she'd ever seen. It was huge and definitely looked expensive, and Sarah was only half-surprised it didn't have vanity plates.

"Hop in, babe," Bet called from the rolled down window, looking much too chipper for someone who hadn't slept well. 

"Your car is a beast," Sarah said, circling around to the passenger's side and letting herself in. 

"I know, it's sick, right?" Bet asked. 

"I don't know if I'd use that terminology," Sarah said. "But it does support my theory that you're compensating for something." 

"Sorry that I like being high off the ground," Bet grinned.

"You wearing your big, tall boots today, too?" Sarah asked. 

"No, actually," Bet said. "We look cuter together with more of a height difference, I think."

"Oh, great," Sarah said. "I was worried we wouldn't look cute enough.”

"Clearly, that's why you're wearing a booby shirt," Bet said, her style of driving already alarming to Sarah as she whipped through residential streets. 

"It's not a-- what the hell is a booby shirt?" Sarah asked, looking down. 

"Shirt that makes me look at your boobs," Bet said. "I mean, I'll look regardless, but it's nice on you."

"Is there a particular reason you're so horny this morning?" Sarah asked. 

"Going on a hot date with the woman who gave me a hickey last night just has me excited, I guess," Bet said. "I didn't even put concealer on it or anything, I like how it looks," she continued, craning so she could check herself out in the rearview mirror. 

"Eyes on the road," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "I knew you'd like that too much."

"Yeah, but I wish you'd put your lips somewhere else, too," Bet said. 

"And where's that?" Sarah asked.

"Everywhere," Bet said simply. "Can't stop thinking about it, and you knew you were making it worse holding me like that. You’re really strong, it felt good to wrap my legs around you.” 

"You needed it," Sarah said. "And I didn't mind it, either."

"Mm, so I still have a chance?" Bet asked. "Because I'm literally trying to woo you right now by taking you on a date."

"Stop calling it a date," Sarah said. "And it's rude to expect sex just because you're taking me out."

"I think it’s rude that you won't have sex with me," Bet argued. 

"You sound like an asshole," Sarah said. 

"I'm sexually frustrated, I'd be sooo much sweeter if you fucked me. It's like you already forgot how nice I got after our phone situation," Bet pouted.

"I definitely haven't forgotten, but I'm sitting on that information," Sarah said. “And when you pout, it makes me want to test your patience.”

“You think I’m a freak, but it’s pretty twisted to enjoy how much I want you while you’re barely giving me anything,” Bet said. 

“Is that right? Because I’m keeping a secret that would probably make you excited, too,” Sarah said.

“What the fuck?” Bet smacked her hand on the steering wheel dramatically.

“I don’t think I should tell you,” Sarah said. 

“You realize it’s disgusting how you like making me upset, right? Like, it’s sadistic,” Bet accused, and Sarah almost laughed considering the nature of the thoughts she'd been having about her. 

“I don’t like when you’re upset, but it’s fun to tease you,” Sarah said. “And I like your face when you’re mad at me, but you know what you look like.”

“What do I look like?” Bet asked, back to smiling again.

“Too beautiful for half the shit that comes out of your mouth,” Sarah said.

“I’m gonna crash this car if you keep flattering me, you haven't called me beautiful before,” Bet beamed.

“You’ve already almost caused three accidents driving like a maniac, it’s a miracle we’re even on the road,” Sarah said. "Focus on driving."

Bet pulled up at the restaurant shortly after Sarah spoke, her parking job scary at best.

“How do you even get in and out of your car?” Sarah asked. “I’m gonna have to jump out, and I’m tall.”

“I jump, you answered it yourself,” Bet said, opening her door to offer a demonstration. 

Sarah hadn’t completely processed her outfit while she was sitting down, but she absolutely noticed Bet’s tight sleeveless top and her black cutoff shorts when she left the car.

"See something you like?" Bet asked, running a hand back through her hair as Sarah shut her door and looked her up and down. 

"Watch it, I've complimented you enough already," Sarah said, allowing her eyes to linger a moment more. 

"The way you're staring is better than a compliment," Bet said, giddy as she led the way into the restaurant. 

It was a lot nicer than somewhere Sarah would have picked, which she should have guessed as they'd driven from Sarah's side of town to a gentrified strip of road she'd never cared to explore. Only seeing Bet at the shitty bar and the singular time she was out buying groceries made it easier to separate her from the idea of someone rich and famous, so it was odd seeing whatever iteration of her it was who strolled up to the host stand. 

"The private dining room is available, would you like to be seated there this morning?" the host asked. 

"Yeah, it's just the two of us," Bet said. "Thanks."

"Of course, it's always a pleasure. Right this way."

Sarah walked beside Bet as they were led to a secluded offshoot of the restaurant, left with menus and told their server would be in shortly. 

"Sorry to be all bougie about it, I just don't like getting recognized while I'm eating," Bet said. 

"Understandable," Sarah said as she sat down. "Does it happen a lot?"

"Way less than in L.A., but enough to bug me," Bet said, sitting across from her. "I used to kind of love seeing fans in public, I'd take a picture with anybody who asked, accept gifts and letters or whatever, but I can't really do that anymore."

Sarah nodded, not wanting to push the subject but open to listening if Bet had something more to add. 

"I deleted all my social media after I left the show because I didn't trust myself not to break the terms of the settlement, and it sucked ass to see people saying I quit for no reason, or making up stories about me and the other cast members like I would actually ditch my job over a love triangle or something. It's kind of lonely, but it's better than feeling scared all the time," Bet said, unfolding her menu. 

"You gave up a lot, it's not crazy to feel isolated," Sarah said. "You're clearly a social person, it's not natural to spend so much time alone. I don't fully get that whole world, but I doubt a lot of people in general could relate to what you went through, even the good parts."

"That's why I like being around you so much," Bet said. "Besides having a crush on you, obviously. I met a girl when I first moved out here who pretended not to know who I was, and I lost my shit when I found out she was some fucking loser wannabe journalist. I kind of gave up on getting to know anybody new, and you just…didn't care at all who I was, and you didn't relate but it also didn't really matter. It felt like a miracle."

"That's giving me a lot of credit," Sarah said. "It all explains why you talk so damn much, though."

"Doesn't it?" Bet asked, her smile returning like a switch flipped. "I couldn't stand the way my friends back home acted about what happened. It was super fucked up, yeah, but I don't want to feel fucked up every moment. I like that you're not gentle with me."

"Good, I like giving you shit and I didn't plan on stopping regardless of what you told me," Sarah said. "I just want a monopoly on tormenting you, so anyone else, past or present, is on my shit list if they try to steal my hobby."

Of course she wasn't just going to say outright that she felt protective and territorial, and she wasn't actually trying to sound affectionate, but Bet looked smitten nonetheless. 

"Sarah, that's so romantic," Bet said, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "I feel like you just proposed."

"You're such an idiot," Sarah said, trying to focus on reading the menu. 

"You should get an espresso martini," Bet said. “And all the food’s good, but I won’t judge you if it’s a liquid breakfast type of day.”

“What do you usually get?” Sarah asked.

“Guess,” Bet said. 

“Pancakes or some shit that doesn’t count as real food,” Sarah said.

“Oh, okay Miss ‘I don’t eat breakfast and I am surviving off of boxed mac and cheese and terrible vodka’,” Bet teased. 

“Fine, like…an omelet? I don’t know,” Sarah said. 

“You’re bad at this game,” Bet said, smiling as a woman appeared to take their orders.

“Good morning, Bet,” she greeted. “You brought a friend this time,” she added with a curious look at Sarah.

“A date,” Bet ‘corrected’, and Sarah stopped herself from saying it wasn’t true because somehow being at a nice restaurant as just a friend seemed worse than being trapped in whatever romance movie Bet thought they were starring in right now. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” the server said, momentarily flustered as Bet gazed up at her in a way that made it seem like she had chemistry with everyone she spoke to. 

“Don’t sweat it. Can we do espresso martinis to start, and then…hm, honestly, what’re the specials today?” Bet asked.

“Wagyu steak and eggs with crispy potatoes, or eggs Royale with caviar,” the server said. “There’s also a market vegetable hash for the plant-based option.”

“Steak for her with the eggs over-medium, Royale for me,” Bet said. “And something sweet on the side,” Bet added. 

Sarah raised her eyebrows at Bet’s choice to order for her, but she didn’t hate it as much as she thought she would. 

“Perfect, we have a new fruit tart that’s a great portion for sharing,” the server said, throwing Sarah a smile. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a minute.”

“Yeah, I was never going to be able to guess your order. Or mine, apparently,” Sarah said once they were left alone again. 

“I usually get the lobster Benedict, but caviar sounded kind of good,” Bet shrugged. 

“Expensive taste,” Sarah said. 

“And I taste expensive,” Bet replied breezily, seeming in her element. 

It was interesting to see her comfortable like this instead of over-exaggerated like she'd been when she was trying to make Sarah jealous at the bar, and even though Sarah didn’t feel particularly used to fancy brunch, it was a nicer change of scenery than she would readily admit.

“You must be really into me if you’ve been drinking holy water in a dive when you’re so classy, huh?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t think I’m classy, but I am very into you, yes,” Bet said, laughing. “And I knew my name for your drink would catch on.”

“It's a good one, unfortunately," Sarah said. "Why'd you start going to that bar? Assuming you're not exactly my neighbor."

"Too many chronically online people at the spots near my place, I guess I forgot how fresh everything still is in people's minds," Bet said. "I was too busy dealing with, like, actual serious shit to think about how it really shook up the internet for a fan favorite to just drop off the face of the planet with no warning and no statement. Everything happened, like, six months ago, and I was pretty sloppy about leaving if I'm honest."

"I didn't realize it was so recent, no wonder you like private dining," Sarah said. 

Six months was hardly any time to process something like being stalked, and Bet was acting like she should feel apologetic for needing more than a short break or some time to herself. 

"Mhmm, I don't want to seem like a huge snob, but I don't really care how I come off anymore," Bet said. "I tip well and I just want to be left alone, but I'll bring you with me more often if you don't hate me entirely after today."

"I'll think about it," Sarah said, trying not to narrow her eyes as the server returned with their drinks and dropped them at the table with a quick nod. 

"Oh, you'll like it," Bet said, scoffing at Sarah's facial expression. "You cannot drink vodka coffees and then turn your nose up at an espresso martini, it's the same idea but actually good. They don't even make theirs that sweet, it's like, cold brew."

“Don’t qualify it, you just like making me do shit I don't usually do," Sarah said. 

"And you keep letting me," Bet shrugged, lifting her glass. 

The drink was still sweeter than something Sarah would order herself, but it wasn't horrible. Maybe it was improved by the way Bet watched her mouth as she drank.

"Maybe you’re finally wearing me down,” Sarah said, setting her glass down.

“You don’t mean that, you’re just getting closer to admitting how fun it’ll be to play around with me,” Bet said, mischievous in her tone.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be playing,” Sarah said. “And you wouldn’t be talking such a big game with my hands on you, but it’s cute to hear.”

“You have me all hot and bothered, Sarah,” Bet said, lowering her voice despite them being alone. “You know it gets me going when you talk about it like it’s not just my fantasy.”

“Maybe I just want to make sure you keep having sweet dreams instead of sleeping like shit and making me go to breakfast with you,” Sarah said.

“Oh, you want me stuck in bed touching myself every morning instead, then?” Bet asked. “Kinky.”

“That’s barely kinky,” Sarah said. “But I think if I made you call me next time it happens, that might qualify.”

Bet paused with her glass halfway to her lips, raising her eyebrows. 

“ Made me? Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think it’s only fair if you’re getting off thinking about me all the time,” Sarah said. “Why, are you too shy?”

“For you? Never,” Bet said. “I just didn’t expect that.”

She was blushing, and Sarah sipped her drink without looking away. Bet clearly liked to drive the tension and instigate within her version of flirting, but when she broke and made it obvious how desperate she was, responding so viscerally to Sarah saying something surprising, it was like a shot of something strong that warmed Sarah’s whole body. When Bet was ruffled or flustered or pinned against something, Sarah felt something similar to the urge people get upon seeing an animal so cute they misplace the overwhelming feeling of adoration with the impulse to squeeze it. It was getting addictive, and she knew she was going to snap eventually. 

“Why are you staring?” Bet asked, biting at her lip for a moment. 

“Just thinking about everything I could do,” Sarah said, folding her hands on the table. “But not today.”

“I’m not patient,” Bet said, nudging her shoe against Sarah’s under the table. 

“I know you aren’t, but you have to be,” Sarah said simply. 

“Fine, it’s worth it,” Bet said. “But we have to change the subject, or I'm going to lose my mind."

"Oh, that's pathetic," Sarah said. "What do you want to talk about instead?"

"When you were younger, did you know you wanted to be a detective?" she asked. 

"As far as I can remember, yeah," Sarah said. "I thought it would be badass. And it was, sometimes, and sometimes I wondered what the hell I was doing. I think most jobs are like that, though."

"Yeah, no kidding," Bet said. "I always thought being an actor would be, like, glamorous and serious, I didn't know I'd get big by making a fool of myself most days. It was kind of surreal getting barked at for not being ditzy enough on-camera, or for seeming too well-trained instead of over-the-top. It was kind of funny how fans thought the TV version was the real me and that I was trying really hard to appear more laid-back in interviews or in public when it was the opposite, but it was fun to have an alter ego."

"I got pretty lost in the work," Sarah said. "It was harder to separate, maybe, because I wasn't being told to act how I was, I just…became another person, eventually, and it was impossible to turn it off. I think the alter ego took over at some point.”

"What were you like before?" Bet asked. "I can't picture you any different than you are now."

"I don't know, I think I used to smile," Sarah said. "And I wasn't as precise, or guarded…I mean, I wanted the job because it was badass, yes, but also because I cared about people. I was optimistic about making a difference, I thought justice was real, and I had to kill some of those beliefs in order to keep showing up every day knowing a lot of people are evil and justice is imaginary. I couldn't stop caring too much, though, and that was what really fucked me in the end."

Bet nodded thoughtfully as she spoke, letting the words settle between them as they both sipped their drinks. 

"Is it easier being all cold and mean?" Bet asked. "It makes more sense now that you flipped out when I called you a coward, but does it really make you feel better to push everyone away?"

Sarah was irritated by the way she asked, like she'd figured out all the mysteries of the human condition already, but she tried to answer anyway. 

"It did, for a long time," Sarah said. "And a lot of it is just me. I was never, like, extremely cheerful or lovey-dovey and I've always had a dry sense of humor and a short temper in certain situations. I don't like emotions that can't be solved easily, they make a mess of things that could be simple."

"I can handle a bad temper, and I've gotten good at hiding some emotions, too," Bet said, tilting her head. "I used to be a huge crybaby."

It often sounded like Bet was trying to convince herself of the things she said; she seemed like she wanted Sarah to be the one who struggled with intimacy and vulnerability while she was open and free and forward, but she could see through it just enough to know she was much more sensitive than she wanted to be. She wasn’t going to bring up how she’d cried at the bar, because that didn’t fall into the category of crybaby behavior. That was a woman shattering because she was trying to keep something together that she wasn’t supposed to be holding in the first place. She could tease her about other things. 

"I can see that," Sarah said honestly after a pause. 

"Hey! Shut the fuck up!" Bet replied, affronted but holding back a laugh. 

"What? You absolutely seem like the type of girl who would cry over puppies or a pretty rainbow or whatever," Sarah said. “I’m sure you’ve seen a Christmas commercial that made you tear up.”

"You're just being a bitch now because you got too vulnerable for a second there," Bet said. "Always talking about me overcompensating, but I think you do it more than me."

"Quiet, crybaby," Sarah said, earning a kick in the shin under the table and finishing her drink as the server returned with their food. 

"Enjoy, ladies. I'll be back later to check on you, but do you need more drinks while I'm here?" the server asked. 

"Another of the same for me. Neat Stoli for my lovely date, but then throw in, like, the tiniest shard of ice. Biiiig pour," Bet said, holding up her fingers as an indication. 

She was good at acting smug and full of herself in a way only Sarah noticed, the server unphased. 

"You got it," the friendly woman said with a smile, disappearing again. 

"You have to tell me how the steak is," Bet said, already cutting into her food. 

"Gonna send it back for me if I don't like it, sugar mama?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, babe. I'd try it myself and decide if it's good or not," Bet said, grinning. 

It was great, luckily, and Bet seemed pleased enough with her fancy caviar-topped selection to take a break from talking for a few minutes. Sarah didn't feel the instant urge to get up and leave that usually came along with the intimacy of sharing a meal with someone else, so she just enjoyed her food, only pausing when their new drinks came. 

"You know, breakfast people might be onto something," she admitted. 

"When it's this good, it's harder to say no to. I get not wanting to get up and cook, though," Bet said, swapping her fork for a spoon to try the fruit tart. 

Sarah sipped her drink, watching as Bet licked sugary custard from the spoon and trying not to think of how her tongue felt against her skin.

"Have some," Bet offered, nudging the plate toward her. 

Sarah nodded, reaching for a small bite with her own spoon. 

"Sweet. Fruity," she said once she'd swallowed. 

"Yes I am, but what about the pastry?" Bet asked, furrowing her brows in false confusion.

"Idiot," Sarah said, reaching for another bite before returning to her meal. 

"You like my jokes," Bet said, nudging Sarah's shoe with her own. 

"Most of your jokes are you pretending I'm hitting on you," Sarah pointed out.

"Sometimes it feels like you're setting it up on purpose, though," Bet said. "One day I'll get you to admit you think I'm adorable and hilarious."

"That's a stretch, but you're so ambitious I don't know what else I'd expect," Sarah said. 

They both went back for a few more bites of food, and Sarah didn't know how she felt about sitting with Bet for the whole ride home despite it not taking too long. She was already feeling the beginnings of emotional claustrophobia, wondering if this setting had made her lose her defenses briefly or if she was just sleep deprived yet again. Either way, she was mostly talked out, and Bet at least seemed to take notice of this as she drained the rest of her drink. 

"Do you want to stop anywhere else before I take you home?" Bet asked after she paid for everything, secretive about the cost but thanked profusely by their server for what Sarah assumed was a glorious tip. "I won't interrogate you anymore on the drive, promise."

"Straight home is good," Sarah said. "I'll probably skip the bar tonight, so don't go and sit there waiting for me," she added.

"I figured," Bet said, smiling slightly. 

The lack of conversation on the way back to Sarah's wasn't as awkward as expected, but it was strange. Bet turned on music quietly and bobbed her head along, humming softly and driving more carefully than she had on the way there which was funny considering her two martinis. Sarah tried to avoid ruminating, as though her thoughts would start playing over the speakers if she got too introspective with the subject of her thoughts beside her.

"Thanks for coming with me," Bet said as she parked in front of Sarah's home. "Meant a lot."

"I was in it for the free food," Sarah said. 

"I'll call you, like you asked," Bet said, looking down when Sarah met her eyes. 

"Good," Sarah said, letting herself out of the car. "But try to do something besides miss me and jack off, would you?"

"Maybe, I'll consider it," Bet giggled, blowing a kiss before driving away.

Sarah sighed when she was back inside, pulling out her phone after she'd poured herself a drink that was sure to wash away the quality of what Bet had treated her to at the restaurant.  

Sarah: I think you were right about a lot

C: duh, sar. smth happen?? did u finally fuck her 

Sarah: No. I feel like I told her too much about me 

C: did she say tht?

Sarah: no, she always wants me to say more

C: ur ridiculous. if u keep dicking her around ur gonna lose her, just bang her and figure out ur feelings after. stop being a weirdo abt it. dont text me abt her again until u DO SOMETHING. 

———

Bet turned on the TV when she got home from breakfast with Sarah, the silence in her empty home always much too loud. It wasn’t the biggest house, one story but enough space for a massive bedroom and a beautiful kitchen. It still felt too soulless, despite the months she’d had to decorate, and she missed city sounds and hosting friends at her place. She felt like she needed a pet, something small that would need her and make noise and give her something to do besides pretend she was sort of okay. She went into her room to change, throwing on an oversized t-shirt that reminded her of when everything was easier. She looked in one of her mirrors, poking at the bruise on her neck just to feel it again. She wondered if Sarah could really tell how much she liked the marks she left, or if she liked them just as much. She hoped she’d leave more, because the one on her hip was nearly gone, all the evidence of her touch fading faster than Bet wanted it to. She opened the wine fridge in her room, pulling out a bottle without checking the label. The crash after spending such an uncharacteristically pleasant impromptu outing with Sarah was hitting hard, and as she uncorked the bottle she sighed. She was still angry at herself for losing her cool at the bar, for crying and throwing something like a child even though it felt amazing and made her want to break everything around her. She brought the wine back to the living room and sat on the couch, curling into herself and taking a long swig as some cartoon she couldn’t pay attention to played. This routine was so old already, trying to numb her feelings and craving any possible distraction; the waking exhaustion she felt at trying to keep her memories at bay always ended up winning somehow, thoughts creeping in until she was transported back to when everything crumbled from her grasp in hard, sharp pieces that splintered and stuck, stinging angrily. 

6 months ago

[unknown]: I saw you on set today. I was in the parking lot when you finished up, too. I liked the pictures you posted with the cast from last week when you went out to dinner, you looked happy. 

[unknown]: for filming you had a brown blazer, hair down with black and silver clips, 4 rings on, and loafers. when you were leaving you had on jeans and white sneakers and a dark green crewneck, but I couldn’t tell if it was merch from the show. I like you in green. you look great in everything, though. 

[unknown]: I’ll get to see you up close soon. 

Bet showed the latest texts to one of her producers the next morning, hoping that this time it would be enough to convince him that she felt unsafe and definitely needed to be escorted to her car at night by security. She didn't see it as a big ask at all, but it had been a battle already to be taken seriously in the first place. He skimmed the texts with a grunt.

“How do you know it’s not just a fan who found your number and wants to mess with you?” he asked, looking at her like she was an idiot.

“I don’t care if it’s a fan or not, they’re literally a stalker,” Bet said, blinking in disbelief. “How would someone know exactly what I was wearing? I didn’t post anything from set on socials yesterday, I follow the rules. You read it right there, they know the post I put up last night was from a week ago but they knew what I was wearing yesterday and last night while I was posting on the way to my fucking car.”

The producer was already back to playing some sort of game on his phone, not even looking up as he continued dismissing her. 

“Maybe someone got you in the background of their story, you're not the only cast member. We shot a lot yesterday, and we’re teasing the finale so someone from socials could have gotten wardrobe in coverage for short form verticals,” he said, still staring at his phone. “You also wear the same shit all the time, it could just be some lucky guesses.”

“I- what? Dude, it’s been happening for over a month, and it’s not just outfit descriptions and shit about the show. They know my license plate number, where I live, what I have for lunch…It would have to either be someone who works on the show, or it’s someone dangerous who I would appreciate some help dealing with,” Bet said, trying not to raise her voice. "I'm scared, I don't know what this person wants but it doesn't seem like they're going to stop. They said they’re going to see me up close soon, is that not weird to you?”

“Listen, Bethany, it seems pretty harmless even if it’s annoying. You do a lot of press, they could be excited for a meet and greet. Plus, your fans know you like true crime, this one might just want to, like, entertain you. Maybe you should be flattered.”

“Flattered? Are you- it’s not fucking entertaining, it’s scary. I need security, I’m serious,” Bet said. “It’s more than annoying, I can’t do my job like this.”

“I’ll look into it, but it seems like a stretch. If we get extra security just for you, everyone else is going to want something.”

“I’m not asking for a fucking chocolate fountain in my dressing room, it’s someone to walk me to my car so I don’t get murdered,” Bet said, trying not to sound as small and upset as she felt. 

“Save the drama for the cameras, would you? And go have makeup fix your blush before we start, you look pale.”

“I look pale because I’m not eating or sleeping enough, since this shit is stressing me out,” Bet said weakly. "Are you kidding me?"

“You should try a multivitamin or something, then. Maybe a protein shake, get a spray tan, I don't know.”

“Asshole,” Bet muttered as she stormed out of his office. 

She was thrown off for the rest of the shoot day, unable to focus properly and completely on-edge. The third time she squinted past her castmate to scan for anyone she didn’t recognize standing amongst the crew, the director called to cut. 

“Bet, what’s going on with you today?” 

“I feel sick,” Bet lied. 

“Contagious?” 

The way the question was asked made it sound less like concern for her health and more like a question of whether the rest of the shoot week could suffer.

“Doubt it, probably food poisoning,” she said, sighing. 

“Take a five, then we have to bang this out.”

“I don’t need a five, I’ll get it. Sorry,” Bet said. 

Murmurings of her becoming ‘difficult’ started the next week, after years of maintaining a stellar reputation as someone who was easy to work with, enthusiastic, charismatic, and professional. One of her castmates, Steph, a woman she’d grown perhaps a bit too close to over the years since season one, pulled her aside to give her a heads up that one of the producers had asked her if she would be interested in hosting at any point.

“Trying to replace me because they don’t believe me about the stalker is actually insane,” Bet said. “No offense, you’d be a great host, but-“

“It’s your show, sweetie. Nobody wants to see someone else at that desk,” Steph said. “You’re not replaceable, they had to know I would tell you.”

“Yeah,” Bet said, running a hand through her hair. “This is so stupid…I already talked to the police, and they said there’s nothing they can do because this person hasn’t explicitly threatened me.”

“I’m sorry, B,” Steph pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back gently. 

“I was going to tell production I need a break for a while, but if they’re really trying to kick me off my own show I don’t think that’ll do anything but make it seem like I don’t want to be here anymore,” Bet said, inhaling the scent of expensive floral shampoo. 

“I mean, you’re not okay. It’s really fucked up they won’t do anything to help, so I can’t blame you if you’re thinking about time off,” Steph said. 

“I really don’t want to have to go anywhere, this job is everything to me,” Bet pulled back from the hug, not sure if she felt suffocated or simply exhausted. 

“I don’t want you to go, either. They’re gonna do something about it, they have to.”

Another week passed, the ominous text messages growing more frequent. They started coming with pictures, some not even zoomed-in which meant the stalker was getting closer and closer. Bet gave up trying to talk to production about it, starting to look into personal security instead. She had a couple of interviews set up to meet potential contractors, then it happened.

It had been a long shoot day, and Bet was more exhausted than she’d ever been. She didn’t know if she was hallucinating at this point from lack of sleep, way too much caffeine, or taking her meds on an empty stomach too frequently, but she swore she’d started seeing her stalker out of the corner of her eye. Any time she tried to point him out or get a better look, he was gone. She felt completely untethered from reality, hardly able to go to the bathroom by herself anymore because she was convinced she was being watched. She sat at the desk on set, waiting idly to start rolling again and scanning the studio as a now-familiar fear prickled at the back of her neck. Despite being in the center of the room, nobody was looking at her, and after the fact Bet wondered if he could tell how little most of the people working on the show actually cared about her when they were deep in a shoot like this. Maybe that was what emboldened him to appear, and maybe that was how she ended up with a nail gun pointed at her forehead. 

She barely remembered the chaos that ensued when someone finally looked her way, a strange man standing right in front of her, his elbows on the desk and a tool from the prop department held easily in his hands. She didn't know when she started to scream, or when she stopped, she only knew that she threw up outside of the building and drove herself home. She remembered what he said, though. 

"I just wanted to show you that I could, I wouldn’t hurt you."

It was impossible to get a clear answer from her crew regarding how he made it on set that day, how he managed to steal something dangerous that should have been stored away, how he strolled up to her with bright kliegs shining and at least fifteen other people in the room. They said they were going to file a report, but when she went back to the police they hadn't heard anything from her workplace. She received a virtual calendar invite for an in-person meeting with higher ups, not even a phone call. She didn't know why she showed up. 

"Bethany, we're sorry about what happened."

"Fuck every single one of you," Bet said.

"We understand that you're upset, but it really wasn't in our control."

"I was begging for help and you blew me off, I have records of basically everything. The whole team was there and it’s a closed set, you don’t even let fucking Postmates in when cast is here.”

"We did end up filing a report--"

"It's too fucking late, even with security footage it's just some random white guy in Los Angeles with sunglasses on. It’s insane that nobody even tried to stop him on his way out, and you just let me go home by myself knowing I wasn’t okay and he’s still out there somewhere. I went back to my house knowing he has my address because I figured I might as well just let whatever was gonna happen to me happen, and it felt so shitty watching everyone who acts like this show is a family do absolutely nothing for me at all. The cops aren’t going to find him, it doesn't matter,” Bet said, feeling like she was in some kind of extended nightmare where she had to explain to her own employers why she was upset she was physically threatened with a deadly weapon at work. 

"How can we make this right with you? We can get you the security you wanted, increase your day rates, give you time off…we don't want you to leave the show."

Bet laughed so hard she almost made herself sick. She let tears stream down her face, slapping at her knees until her breathing turned to uncomfortable wheezing and she felt dizzy from lack of air. 

"I'm leaving, effective immediately, you pieces of shit," she said once she was half-calibrated again. "And I'm going to tell everyone what happened."

"You can't necessarily do that. Per your contract--"

Bet felt her body go numb as she continued to listen, the legalese seeping passively into her brain like poison as she realized she couldn't just start a live stream on social media and expose what had taken place without facing repercussions beyond her comprehension. She didn't say anything else for the rest of the meeting, just walked out of the building and grabbed a full box of merch samples on the way out. She drove to a hotel instead of going home, checking herself in for a few nights so she could hide out and start researching where she would escape to. Steph called her more times than she could keep track of, but she didn’t want to see anyone, even her. 

Now

Bet didn’t cry this time, just drinking steadily as she let every detail wash over her like something she’d get a prize for enduring stubbornly. She was nearly finished with the bottle, unsure what time it was now but not really caring one way or the other. Part of her wanted to show up at the bar just in case, but she knew she’d be disappointed and wasn’t sure if she could handle that today. She pushed at the bruise on her neck again, remembering Sarah’s lips like a salve. She thought of her arms around her, her hand at the back of her head so strong and comforting as she held her. It didn’t matter how reluctant she seemed, it still meant something that she was warm like a smoldering campfire when Bet was falling apart in front of her. If that was the extent of her kindness, Bet was still grateful. If she never got to have her, at least she had this, the yearning that distracted her better than anything else could. She didn’t know if she could ever tell Sarah that she was saving her, giving her something to look forward to, a stage to perform on where she didn’t have to act nice about it and could push and pull without worrying she’d suddenly be too much. She was too much from the start, and Sarah let her stick around, so she didn’t have to hold back. It didn’t quite make sense, so to Bet it did. Sarah saw her as light work, something annoying that she maybe liked but couldn’t always keep up with, and it was refreshing compared to feeling like a weight tied to the neck of everyone she knew before. Bet wasn’t the scariest, saddest thing Sarah had known, and she didn’t look at her like she was untouchable as though that was some form of respect when someone was screaming to be held. She touched her when she wanted to because she could, not just to make her feel better, and not to trick her into false security, either. Sarah wanted her, even though she couldn’t say it in as many words yet, and that soothed Bet more than any amount of alcohol. She thought about everything Sarah had said at breakfast, teasing her about how Bet wouldn’t be so cocky if she really touched her, how she had ideas in mind for what she’d do, how she wanted to hear Bet cum over the phone again. She pictured the way her gaze changed whenever Bet got a little shy, or when she did something she knew would hurt, and she wished she could fast forward to the morning so she could call her. She wasn’t going to lie about dreaming about her, but she knew she would again. She had to, so she laid in bed, edging herself without even touching, focusing her thoughts on every clue she could piece together about how it would be when Sarah finally tipped them both over the edge they were barely trying to balance on. If Sarah wanted to be the only one tormenting her, Bet would work for it.

Chapter Text

Sarah woke up with a startled gasp as she often did, having at least made it into bed before falling into an unsatisfying sleep. She'd thought about Bet the entire time she made her nearly-nightly mac and cheese, Cali's last text scrolling on a loop in her mind. She agreed that she needed to do something soon, but part of her knew that even Cali in her bluntness didn't fully understand how delicate the observably eruptive and erratic situation was becoming. Bet was undeniably bold, but she was hurt, too. Sarah tried not to glance at her phone every other second, but she had a feeling it would ring. Sarah could help Bet today, in the twisted way she needed. All she had to do was call. It was an hour before she heard from Bet, her voice still scratchy from sleep in a way that chipped even further at the already eroded armor Sarah kept trying in vain to repair. 

"Sarah," Bet said, not quite a question, but like she still didn't entirely believe this was what Sarah wanted. To be fair, she had no way of knowing exactly how much she wanted it, but Sarah wasn’t going to give so much away. 

"What is it?" Sarah asked, far from accusatory but certainly teasing. “Need something?”

"I had a dream about you again," Bet said. "A really, really good one.” 

"Is that right?" Sarah asked, the coffee she drank as she sat on the couch now completely uninteresting as she set it down on her side table. "You still in bed? You sound tired."

"Yes," Bet answered. "I just woke up. I wish you were with me, though."

"I know you do," Sarah said, knowing that if she ever woke up next to Bet in the morning she’d be completely done for, especially with how she sounded. "What did you wear to sleep?"

"A big t-shirt," Bet said, audibly shifting around. 

"Nothing under?" Sarah asked, able to picture her more easily now. Dangerously, but easily.

"Nothing," Bet confirmed. "I got so excited thinking about you when I went to bed I had to take off my underwear, but I don’t usually sleep with much on, anyway.”

"Oh, you were laying there thinking of me and you got too wet, hm?" Sarah asked. "Telling yourself stories about me fucking you so you could have a good sleep?"

The fact that thinking of Sarah soothed Bet enough to be able to rest tugged uncomfortably at something inside of her, and she pushed the feeling away. 

"Yeah, I was thinking about when you had your hand on my thigh at the bar and you were teasing me, how it would feel if you did the same thing without my clothes on. Then I was thinking of you in bed with me, touching me all over. Or maybe we’d be somewhere else, like in the backseat of my car, or a hotel,” Bet said, letting out a quiet breath that perked Sarah's ears. 

"What are you doing now?" Sarah asked. “Trying to be sly again?”

"I didn't start anything, I'm just so turned on it hurts," Bet said. "And I’m impatient.”

"Tell me about your dream, Bet," Sarah instructed, the tone of Bet’s voice making her feel dizzy even though she was seated. Every time she got even slightly whiny, Sarah wanted to put her hands on her. “How did it start?”

"I don't know where we were, some kind of room. It was small, with a big chair, and you were sitting down," Bet said. 

"You can touch yourself now, but you have to keep talking," Sarah interrupted. 

"Mm," Bet hummed in acknowledgement, and Sarah could picture her nodding, probably biting her bottom lip. "You had on jeans and a tank top, like an undershirt, and I don’t know what kind of shirt I had on but I was wearing a mini skirt,” she continued.

"Yeah? Do you like wearing skirts?" Sarah asked, not having seen her in one yet. 

"Sometimes," Bet said. "Especially for easy access, if I like somebody. But I like to wear lots of different things, you don’t even know.”

It was getting difficult not to imagine Bet in various states and styles of dress, the thought of her in a short skirt already doing plenty to her mind without whatever other garments she was implying. 

"Alright, go on," Sarah said, knowing how much harder it would be to control herself if her hand could just nudge a bit of fabric aside and touch her. Picturing her in a hiked up oversized shirt and soaking wet to the point she said she was painfully horny didn’t help her sense of control, either.

"You wanted me to sit on your lap," Bet said, her words a little breathier than before.

Sarah heard something rhythmic but quiet, figuring it was a hand working under the covers. Bet moaned lightly before speaking again, the sound much more clear than when she was being sneaky about it. It was somewhat charming that the dream was tame so far, easily something that could happen if Sarah let it. She wondered if Bet’s waking fantasies were similarly benign, and if she was the only one dipping into depravity when she thought of them together.

"I went to sit sideways, but you told me to turn and straddle you," Bet said. “You…mm,” Bet paused, trying to hide another moan.

“I told you to keep talking to me,” Sarah said. “I know whatever you’re doing probably feels so good, but if I can’t hear you, you have to stop.”

“Or what?” Bet asked, pushing back even though she was the one trying to finish. 

“Or I’m going to hang up and let you finish by yourself instead of with me talking to you, and I know that’s what you really want,” Sarah said. “You like hearing my voice while you cum, don’t lie.” 

“Fine,” Bet mumbled, like she’d been waiting for a chance to be indignant. 

“‘Fine’? Try again, smartass,” Sarah said sternly. 

“Yeah, I like hearing your voice while I cum,” Bet said. 

“Good. What happened when you were on my lap?” Sarah prompted. “And you can go back to touching yourself, needy girl.”

Sarah took in the sound of Bet’s tiny gasp and her hand moving again, her heartbeat quickening as she listened. 

“You put your hand up my skirt so fast, and you were holding me so tight,” Bet said, her voice much softer than when she was acting like she was really going to be stubborn while she was desperate. It seemed like Sarah being firm was something she responded well to, and Sarah could only imagine how it would feel to truly take control face-to-face. “You started fucking me in your lap,” Bet said. “You were helping me move up and down, making me ride your fingers, and it felt so real.”

“You and that imagination,” Sarah said, ignoring the heat between her legs as Bet whined through the phone. “What else did I do to you?” 

Sarah kept having to stop pet names from leaving her lips, despite her feeling that Bet would reach her climax even faster if Sarah called her sweet things that didn’t sound half-condescending. She probably liked the condescending names too much as it was, though.

“You picked me up and fucked me against the wall, and it felt like I was flying,” Bet said. “You were filling me up and just…it was so much, Sarah. You were grabbing my waist, and my neck, and I was begging for you to go harder.”

Sarah clenched her jaw, knowing her hand would probably fit nicely around her throat. It wasn’t something she liked to do in reality, but the thought of Bet looking up at her, gasping and writhing, made her dig the fingertips of her free hand into her thigh. 

“And you’re laying there wishing I was inside you, huh?” Sarah provoked as Bet let a whimper reach her ears.

“I want it more than anything,” Bet said, her breaths staggered. “You were so rough with me, it was like you were punishing me. I couldn’t get enough, especially when you set me down and held my arms behind my back with one hand. You fucked me like that, too, pinned against the wall from behind.”

“You like it when I push you around,” Sarah said, Bet’s sounds coming more frequently now. “Seems like you’d love what I think about doing to you, it’s always mean,” Sarah said, mostly truthful. Bet didn't need to know she thought of tender things sometimes, too. 

“Yeah, I would love it,” Bet said with a shaky exhale. “Fuck, I want to know what you think about.”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna last with me for a second when you get close so fast just thinking about it, or telling me about what you want,” Sarah said, not answering her plea for a glimpse of her thoughts yet. “How many fingers are inside right now?” 

“Two,” Bet answered quickly. 

“Oh, that’s nothing. Your hands are small,” Sarah said. “Add another, now.”

Bet moaned, and Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she imagined burying her own fingers in her, wondering how loud she could get her to be. 

“You can use both hands, just keep your phone next to you,” Sarah said. 

“What should I do with my other hand, Sarah?” Bet asked, challenging despite her words wavering with arousal. 

“Rub your clit like I know you need to,” Sarah said, her own legs firmly together as she sat and listened to Bet’s increasingly urgent sounds. “I know you’re getting close, I can tell because you’re being so noisy. If I was there, I’d hold you down and fuck you so hard you couldn’t breathe, so just think about that.”

“Oh, god,” Bet whimpered, and Sarah thought she could almost make out slick, fast noises beneath Bet’s voice. 

“I know you’d look so good under me,” Sarah said. “And you’d lay there and take it, wouldn’t you? I could do whatever I want, you’re so goddamn desperate for me.” 

“Yes,” Bet whined. “Sarah, I’m right there, please, don’t stop talking.” 

For someone who talked like she was an expert at switching, Bet certainly sounded amazing when she was submissive, even just over the phone. 

“I want to feel you around my fingers, Bet,” Sarah said, keeping her voice low. “Pretend it’s me touching you right now, forcing you to make those cute noises with my fingers deep inside. Wouldn’t that be nice? Me feeling you so tight around me, making a mess on my hand?”

Bet’s high, staccato moans paused for a moment before she let out a long whimper, a string of quiet exclamations following. Sarah’s eyes were closed as she listened, picturing the way she’d squirm, how she might be fucking against her hand as she finished.

“Oh, did that make you cum? It’s so easy to get you off,” Sarah said. “Fucking yourself and imagining what I’d feel like, trying to make it last because you don’t know when you’ll get the real thing.” 

“I wish you were here right now,” Bet said, breathing heavily.

“Do you? I think you’d be shy,” Sarah said. “And I do want to see you like that, but I wouldn’t let you hide from me. I’d look at all of you.”

“You know you can whenever you want,” Bet said, still trying to balance her breaths again. 

“It’s less of a question of wanting it,” Sarah said. “I would have brought you home already if that was the case.”

“I’ll get you soon,” Bet said. “You can only deny yourself so long, and when you can’t take it anymore I’ll be ready for the things you’re holding back.”

“And what if you can’t handle it?” Sarah asked. 

“I’ll be able to, I’m not worried,” Bet said, her voice still soft with contentment and satisfaction. “I don’t care if it hurts.”

Sarah caught the double meaning, sure that they weren’t just discussing sex at this point. Bet was always so certain she wanted whatever Sarah could give her, and she didn’t seem to be on her way to stopping her pursuit any time soon regardless of the emotional implications.

“You’re a very dumb girl,” Sarah said. 

“And I like when you remind me,” Bet sighed. “You could say the worst things to me, and it would sound like a compliment because I know it’s a compliment that you talk to me at all.”

“That’s right,” Sarah said. “Biggest compliment I’ve ever given.” 

“Besides calling me beautiful,” Bet said, a grin in her voice. 

“No, talking to you is a bigger compliment than just stating the obvious,” Sarah said.

“Oh, shut up,” Bet said. 

“You’d hate it if I did,” Sarah countered. 

“Yeah, I really would," Bet said, pausing after an inhale like she had something else to say. "I don’t want to get off the phone."

“Makes me think you’re probably clingy after sex, too,” Sarah said.

“Does that scare you?” Bet asked.

“Not as much as it should,” Sarah said. 

“Interesting,” Bet said. “Do I get to see you today?”

“Depends,” Sarah said. “If I go to the bar, are you gonna try to kiss me again?”

Sarah didn't know why she asked, as if it was going to change what she said next either way. She might have just wanted to hear Bet declare that she was going to keep trying.

“Of course,” Bet said. “But you’ll dodge it, and I’ll be happy I’m close to you at all.”

“See you later, then,” Sarah said. 

“Can’t wait,” Bet said. “Thanks for helping me out, it’s always better with you.”

“I’m the one who said you had to call,” Sarah said. “Bye, moviestar.”

“Bye,” Bet said, and Sarah’s home suddenly felt much too quiet. 

It wasn’t a great sign that she felt so comfortable on the phone with Bet, whether it was sexual or not. It was a worse sign, for her resolve, at least, that she couldn’t even pretend she had plans to do anything besides meet up with her later in the day. She craved her voice, she wanted to see her, and she needed a reason to have her hands on her again. She wanted to keep her rules and observe the limits she’d put herself under, but Bet was so eager it made her forget why they weren’t in bed together already. Maybe if she didn’t kiss her, she could still have her. If she didn’t kiss her, it could still be something hovering between tension and a connection, and that was safer for now. She was always a believer in pushing off the inevitable, and Bet seemed like a sure thing. 

Sarah got to the bar as the sun was setting, and Bet was right where she was supposed to be. Of course she was wearing a skirt, and of course she looked particularly gorgeous. Every time Sarah saw her, she was different but the same, the type of shapeshifter that was compelling in what she scattered in recent memory just as much as what she left to imagination. 

“Dressing up like your dream isn’t going to make it come true,” Sarah said as she sat down, her eyes on the hem of Bet’s skirt. 

“I just knew I was seeing someone I’m into tonight,” Bet shrugged, shifting her position so that if Sarah really wanted to look she could peek at her underwear. Sarah met Bet’s eyes instead.

“Who’s that?” Sarah asked, noticing Bet’s makeup and wishing she could ruin it with her face pressed against something. 

“This ex-detective I know,” Bet said coyly. 

“What’s she like?” Sarah asked, deciding to humor her as Charlie dropped off drinks for each of them. 

“She’s tall, older than me, and mean,” Bet started, her eyes practically sparkling, “and she’s pretty good at acting like she doesn’t think I’m funny. She withholds compliments, so it feels even better when she says something in this one voice of hers that makes insults sound like praise. She calls me stupid, and obnoxious, and delusional, and she says I don’t know what I’m doing going after her, but her voice makes it sound like she’s calling me baby and telling me I’m perfect.”

Sarah sipped her drink as Bet walked her through this fantasy description of herself, raising her eyebrows. She noted, of course, that Bet likely did want genuine praise from her that she wouldn't need to read between the lines for. She seemed torn between wanting violence and gentleness, and Sarah knew how to walk that line more easily than she could commit to just being kind.

“She’s not handsy until she is, and she’s rough but she won’t let herself do what she really wants to me. She makes me work for her attention and then acts like she doesn’t care that much, but I know she wants me,” Bet continued, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tell Sarah about herself again. “We had a really nice phone call this morning, so I’ve been excited to see her.”

“What was so nice about the phone call?” Sarah asked, setting her drink down. 

“I came really hard because she told me she’d fuck me until I couldn’t breathe, and some other things,” Bet said, her expression sincere. "And she was good at telling me what to do, even though I'm stubborn, so it was fun."

"Sounds like your crush got to have a nice morning, too," Sarah said. 

"So, you liked it?" Bet asked, dropping her stranger act and tilting her head. 

"I don't know who wouldn't like listening to that," Sarah said, one hand itching to slide over the smooth skin Bet seemed to be taunting her with each time she moved even slightly on her barstool. 

"Did it make you excited, or are you really immune to me?" Bet asked.

"You love asking ridiculous questions, don't you?" Sarah responded, sipping her drink again. 

Sarah had immediately gone to take a shower after they hung up their morning call, shuddering with her back to the tiled wall as she raced to a silent climax and relieved the ache Bet's sounds had left her to deal with. She wasn't going to say that, though, just like she still hadn't told her she'd thought about her while getting off before. 

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all, you didn’t tell me if you felt anything about it one way or the other,” Bet said. “I can’t read your mind, even though I want to.” 

“You’re not going to get me to talk about it,” Sarah said. “I’m not a terminally horny exhibitionist like you.”

“Oh, you were totally wet, then,” Bet said smugly. “You seemed pretty into it, being all controlling and filthy.”

“I was helping you out, didn’t I say what you wanted to hear?” Sarah asked.

“I could cum to you reading a weather forecast,” Bet said with a laugh. “You like saying dirty things to me, it does something for you.”

“Tell yourself whatever you need,” Sarah said, picking up her drink again. 

“You’re bad at bullshitting, honestly,” Bet said. “It would be tiring as fuck if I didn’t think it was fun to get you to admit you’re lying.” 

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Sarah asked, taking a sip from her glass. 

“Always, babe,” Bet said. “Do you like my skirt?” 

“It’s short,” Sarah said plainly. 

“Yeah, and you keep staring,” Bet said. “I don’t know why you keep looking away when I’m trying to show you what’s underneath, though.” 

“I’m not going to fuck you just because you’re wearing a skirt,” Sarah said. “It was a cheap move on your part.”

“Hmm, feels like there’s a ‘but’ there,” Bet said.

Sarah looked at Bet’s face, and she seemed much too cocky for how she was acting earlier in the day. She finished her drink quickly, then stood from her barstool.

“Come on, get up,” Sarah said decidedly. 

“What? Why?” Bet asked, still headstrong. “I don’t need a smoke yet.”

“Get the fuck up,” Sarah said. 

“Ooh, where are we going?” Bet asked, still playful as she trailed behind Sarah who all but barged her way outside. 

“Shut your mouth, Bet,” Sarah muttered, turning the corner past the designated smoking area into the alleyway beside the bar. “You want to know what I think about your skirt, and how it made me feel listening to you fuck yourself like that?” she asked, facing the woman who had followed after her like a loyal pet.

“Yeah,” Bet said, nodding slightly. “That’s why I was asking.”

Sarah thought it was almost pitiful how she looked at her like she was expecting to finally get a kiss, but she would never pity her. Instead, Sarah grabbed Bet by her hips, shoving her into the wall and wedging a knee between her legs. Bet gasped and bit her lip, at least having the thought to be quiet. Sarah kept a palm on her, holding her harder than necessary as she pushed the skirt’s hem higher with her other hand. She groped at her thigh, her thumb reaching the edge of Bet’s underwear. She didn’t go further, keeping her fingers where they were and moving her knee. Bet squirmed against her, grabbing fistfuls of Sarah’s shirt.

“You think that after everything I’ve said, I didn’t feel any particular way about telling you how to touch yourself for me?” Sarah asked. “I wasn’t lying about how I would have fucked you if I was with you this morning. You’re getting dumber every day if you don’t realize that.”

Bet was still biting her lip, a quiet moan trapped in her throat as Sarah nudged with her knee again. 

“You were trying to work me up back inside, but you got yourself all excited again, didn’t you?” Sarah asked. “Answer.”

“Yes,” Bet breathed, nodding. 

Sarah stroked along the juncture of her thigh with her thumb, still holding her tightly enough to give her more of the marks she seemed to like so much. 

“I’m not going to touch you how you want,” Sarah said, pulling Bet away from the wall so she could turn them around, her own back pressed to the bricks as she brought Bet toward her.

The hand on Bet’s thigh moved to grip her ass beneath her skirt, the other shifting to her lower waist. She leaned so that her thigh was angled, still between Bet’s legs. It wasn’t like Bet was eager to lose the friction she was already chasing, she’d practically attached herself to Sarah where she was able to.

“But, if you want something, you can say it,” Sarah murmured in continuation. 

Bet was still holding on to her shirt, breathing hard as she hooked her foot around Sarah’s calf. 

“I want anything, with you,” Bet whispered, a moan passing her lips as Sarah guided her to move against her leg. 

“You can’t be too loud,” Sarah said. “And I’m not letting you cum like this, even though I’m sure you could.”

“I don’t care,” Bet breathed, dropping her forehead to Sarah’s chest as she moved her hips on her own. It didn’t stop Sarah from following the motion with her hands, squeezing and pushing deliberately. 

“See how easy it was for me to get you like this?” Sarah muttered. “Grinding on me because that’s all I’ll give you?” 

“Mhmm,” Bet hummed, sneaking a moan into the response. 

“Harder to be sassy about it when you’re dripping onto my jeans, huh?” Sarah asked. “I told you to get up and you did, now look where you are.”

Bet muffled a whimper against Sarah’s chest, rolling her hips like she meant it. If she didn’t know this was the same woman who’d made a production out of bending some blonde over the pool table and fucking her silly in the bathroom, Sarah wouldn’t recognize her, but she was learning Bet more and more the longer they danced around each other. Just because she could do certain things didn’t mean that was all she wanted. Sarah was the same in some ways, but she would never fold this easily.

“We’re going back inside after this,” Sarah said. “When I’m done with you, I mean.”

Bet moved her hands to Sarah’s shoulders, pressing herself closer and lifting her head to try and kiss Sarah’s neck. 

“No, you need to focus,” Sarah murmured, Bet’s breath quivering against her skin.

She pulled Bet back down against her leg, and the sound Bet let out would have made her give in to any number of kisses if she wasn’t trying to torture her.  Bet stifled her next moan, letting Sarah continue guiding her hips with one hand still up the back of her skirt. Sarah knew she would have to stop soon, because Bet’s mouth was too close and her sounds were too pretty to ignore, but she was so warm and soft and she was clinging to Sarah for dear life. 

“Sarah,” Bet whispered, her movements more controlled now, like she was actually getting somewhere.

“Don’t you dare,” Sarah said, letting go of her momentarily before placing both hands at her waist. 

Bet slowed, clearly unsatisfied as she unhooked her ankle from Sarah’s calf and stepped back with a huff. 

“You’re a bitch,” Bet mumbled as she dropped her hands to her sides, so flushed Sarah could see it even in the evening’s lack of light. 

“You needed a reminder,” Sarah said, reaching to tuck some of Bet’s hair behind her ear. 

“Why won’t you just kiss me, if you’ll do all that?” Bet asked as Sarah pulled her skirt back into place for her, smoothing her hands over the material when she was finished.

“Doesn’t matter, I just won’t,” Sarah said. “Come back inside with me and behave yourself, would you?”

“You know I can’t behave,” Bet said. “Especially not now.”

“Well, you should try,” Sarah said. 

Bet followed her back to their barstools, and Sarah pretended she couldn’t feel the wet patch near her knee. She pretended through the next round of drinks that she didn’t notice Bet crossing and uncrossing her legs like it would help her calm down instead of making it worse, and she pretended she didn’t want to make her dreams come true as Bet launched into a story that was far less compelling than the way she looked up at her with slightly furrowed brows and made noises Sarah could still hear ringing in her ears like an alarm.

Chapter Text

It was obvious that neither Bet nor Sarah wanted to leave the bar after the alleyway, both watching people cycle in and out around them as they stayed in their extremely charged, strange bubble. When they drifted outside to smoke between drinks, Sarah tried to keep a safe distance, but Bet was finding ways to align herself with her side or hold on to her arm for too long. She was still halfway coy about it, like it was an accident that she kept nuzzling her shoulder or biting her lip when she got Sarah to reach out and steady her with a firm hand any time she swayed too much. She didn't say a lot, but she was touchy, and it was challenging to even try to dislike it when her sweet noises were still fresh in Sarah's mind. For a while, Bet just stood in front of her, daring her to look into her eyes and get trapped by the halo of temptation around her. Sarah almost singed her fingers letting her cigarette burn while she was lost in her gaze. She wasn't wrong about Bet being clingy after getting physical despite it only being what it was, and Bet was living up to her status as Sarah's shadow. It was a different energy than Sarah assumed she would have if she actually got everything she wanted, but she was certainly subdued to some degree. She was, at least, until she wasn't.

"Tell me something," Bet said, enough drinks in for her words to drip slowly. 

"Tell you what?" Sarah asked, expecting another sexual interrogation or attempt at prompting a profession of affection.

"Who died?" Bet asked, frowning. 

Sarah almost thought she misheard, but Bet's expression seemed to match the question well enough.

"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked. 

"I don't know, you tell me," Bet said. "You act like something really bad happened, like, during your career, and I keep thinking about the things you asked me. I know a detective sees dead bodies, but you asked if I've ever seen someone die."

"I don't want to get into that with you," Sarah said, shaking her head as her body tensed. "A lot of really bad things did happen, and I don't have to tell you about any of them."

"It's not fair," Bet mumbled.

"I don't give a shit if it's fair, it's none of your business," Sarah said. "Drop it."

"No," Bet said, and Sarah wondered if she was insane or just drunk. "I'll tell you everything if you just tell me one thing, Sarah."

"God, you're fucking impossible. I don't need to know everything, you can have your business, too," Sarah said. "You went through something terrible-"

"I thought he was gonna kill me," Bet said. 

"And that's awful, I would never say it wasn’t, but you really don't have to talk about it," Sarah said, bristling at the memories that poked at her mind like needles. Of course everything was too similar, that was probably why she felt so averse to telling Bet what ended her work in the first place. She didn’t intend to tell her when they met, and she definitely didn’t plan on saying anything when Bet broke down about what happened to her. 

"Was it your girlfriend?" Bet asked, still brash despite being told 'no' over and over. 

"Stop," Sarah said, her tone severe. She finished her drink like her own intoxication could somehow prevent Bet from continuing down this path, but she was already gearing up to speak again. 

"It would explain why you won't just be with me," Bet said quietly, some of her words sticking together. "And why you're scared."

"You're being selfish," Sarah said. "If your guess was right, which it isn't, that's a really fucked up thing to say, even for you."

Bet always described herself as lacking in manners, which Sarah didn't mind at all, but this was a new level of self-absorption she hadn't seen before, especially from someone who seemed much more sensitive than she let on. 

"I just want to know you, and understand," Bet said, looking down at her empty glass. "I try to give you so much, so that you'll trust me, and you just don't. I'm not trying to change you, I just…I'm…"

Sarah shook her head, then looked at Bet.

"If you think everything we do is a transaction to get information from each other, you're confused," Sarah said, interrupting as Bet tried to put her next words in order. "Didn't you say you hated that journalist for sleeping with you and pretending to like you just to try to get stories? I'm not going to tell you every shitty thing about my life just because you want to cum for me, Bet," Sarah continued. "That’s not how it works. And I've trusted you plenty, but you don't get that not everyone is dying to spill their secrets. It doesn't matter what feelings you think you have for me, I keep telling you I don't owe you anything."

"It's not like that," Bet said, somehow offended as if she wasn't the one crossing line after line. She sounded like she was going to cry, or maybe start yelling, and Sarah didn't want either. "I didn’t mean I only tell you shit so you’ll do it back, or that I’m trying to trick you, just…I can't keep doing this if I don't know why you're so…ugh. It's like you're worried about scaring me away, but then you say you don't want me like that in the first place so it shouldn't fucking matter if you scare me at all. I don't know. I just think if you told me what happened, I wouldn't feel so crazy."

"You don't have to keep doing anything, and it's not my fucking job to make you less crazy. You could disappear tomorrow and never talk to me again, and I would hope it was because you finally figured out you could actually be happy or satisfied instead of going in circles like this," Sarah said, trying not to feel bad for the way Bet's face fell further. She was good at looking like a kicked puppy, but it was hard to know if it was an act. "I told you I wasn't nice, you said you liked that, and now you're upset because I won't do everything you want."

"Fuck you," Bet said, the hurt in her voice somehow less wrenching than the look on her face. "You don't have to keep leading me on if you hate me, Sarah."

"Leading you on? You're out of your mind," Sarah said, almost amused by the leap she'd taken to come to that conclusion. It was even more confusing to be accused of hating her when Bet was usually so confident that Sarah liked her more than she ever admitted. She wasn't wrong about that part, and Sarah didn't think she truly believed what she was saying anymore. "You should go home."

Sarah knew that they could probably argue all night if Bet's logic was already this entirely lost, and it didn't seem worth it to keep trying to explain herself. Maybe Bet did mean what she was saying, or parts of it, but it was also likely she was just emotional because she didn't get laid and wanted to start something for the hell of it. She seemed like she craved any kind of stimulation nearly interchangeably, and if sex wasn't available, getting Sarah angry with her probably worked to soothe her mind in some way, too. Sarah didn't want Bet to know what it looked like when she really, truly hated someone, and she didn't think she'd shown her anything close enough to justify some of the things she said. Either way, whether she'd been hateful or not, Sarah was not entertained by the way Bet was going about getting attention or answers or whatever it was she really wanted out of bringing up something Sarah didn't feel like talking about at all. She might not have deserved getting her head bitten off for trying, albeit too aggressively, to understand Sarah better, but Sarah had warned her time and time again against poking around at things that weren't readily shared. She'd overextended herself as it was, blurred the lines she used reliably to keep her emotions at bay so she could avoid situations like this where she felt sick to her stomach watching someone become disappointed by her inability to be what they thought they needed. Bet claimed she could handle her, pain included, and if anything Sarah felt like the fool for taking the word of someone who didn't seem to think before speaking. Maybe this was just what happened to Bet when she was overstimulated and left to sit with it, though, and that was less finite. She was lonely, and coping, and Sarah knew she was serving as an outlet for her. Maybe she could let Bet be a bit of a contradictory mess and not run from that, either, as long as she'd stop trying to gnaw off the hand that she wanted to feed her so badly.

"I don't want to go home, it's a fucking nightmare there," Bet said, less firey now. Sarah really didn't like it when she was sad, it was much harder to watch than her being spiteful. "I'd rather be here and be mad at you than go be alone."

"Okay. Be mad, then. But you can't keep asking questions like that," Sarah said. "And you should drink some water."

"You don't even drink water," Bet said. 

"I'm not the one acting like a drunk asshole," Sarah said. 

"Whatever," Bet said. 

"It could be worse, I could have told you to switch to Shirley Temples, since you're being childish," Sarah said. 

"At least that's, like, fun," Bet said. "Can I have vodka in it, though?"

"No, dummy," Sarah said. “But you want one anyway, don’t you?”

Bet shook her head stubbornly. Sarah ordered the sweet, artificially red drink for her anyway, sighing as she felt a head leaning against her shoulder. 

"I don't hate you, by the way," Sarah said. "I just don't think you listen to me, and I get frustrated easily. My short temper, remember?"

"I listen to you, I just don't always want to believe you," Bet said. "I want to believe it could work, and that I could get close to you."

"You're gonna get sick of fighting for that," Sarah said. “Or you’ll be the one who hates me.”

"I meant what I said about not caring if you hurt me," Bet said. "But I never said it wouldn't show. I'm dramatic, you always tell me that.”

"And I don't do well with drama," Sarah said. "I said it before, I like you better when you're stupid and horny. So, if you're going to get upset or try to fight with me every time I don't get all mushy and start telling you secrets after we have some kind of moment, that can’t happen anymore. I already let it go too far, you know that.” 

Bet sipped her Shirley Temple quietly, nodding as she set it back down. 

"So, that was us having a 'moment'?" she asked, a smile hinting at returning to her lips. "Not just you teaching me a lesson about teasing you? Because if it was too far, I want to go a lot further."

"See? You're back to acting like an idiot, just like that," Sarah said.

"Still think you're not gonna fuck me?" Bet asked, nudging Sarah’s arm. "Because that was pretty close."

"I barely touched you," Sarah said, glancing down at Bet's thighs, thinking of being between them in a way that would require a change of location from the bar. 

"Oh, sure, and I was barely wet," Bet said, sipping her drink again. "God, you make me insane."

"You do it to yourself," Sarah said, her eyes back on Bet’s face. 

"Nope, you do it to me. I want you to do it to me more," Bet said. 

"You can't make up your mind, can you? A few minutes ago you didn't know if you could keep trying to sleep with me because I was making you too crazy," Sarah said, but the reminder was more gentle than her recent harshness. 

"I guess I'm a wild card," Bet said. 

"Or bipolar," Sarah said. 

"Yeah, maybe. Haven't taken my meds in ages," Bet said, and Sarah genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking. 

"Well, you'd better figure out your shit if you want to keep getting rewarded for your bad behavior," Sarah said. "And you really should head out soon, if you start nodding off I'm not gonna carry you anywhere."

"That's a lie, you like holding me," Bet said. "I wouldn't even be mad if you grabbed my ass again."

"Call your ride," Sarah said, shaking her head. 

"Ugh, so pushy," Bet said, but she took out her phone anyway. "You're not just trying to get rid of me because I was rude, right?"

"No, but I do think you need some rest," Sarah said. 

"I didn't mean it how it came out, what I said about…that stuff before," Bet said, stealing a sip of Sarah's drink, seemingly over the sugary soda concoction in front of her. "I shouldn't have tried to force it like that."

"That's why I'm more annoyed than pissed," Sarah said. "You don't actually think I'm leading you on, do you?" 

"No, I was mostly just saying shit," Bet said, sighing. “And maybe it would be easier if that was the case.”

"But some of what you said was real," Sarah said, not asking.

"Yeah, of course," Bet nodded. "But I promise I'm grateful for you."

"I don't know if you should be," Sarah said. 

"That's okay, I still am," Bet said. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” Sarah said. 

“I know, it’s a heads up,” Bet said. “Ride won’t be here for a bit, though.”

“How long's a bit?” Sarah asked. 

“Long enough to go for another smoke,” Bet said. 

Sarah nodded and led the way, sitting down at one of the peeling outdoor picnic tables. She kept her knees wide, pulling out a cigarette. 

“Come sit,” Sarah said as Bet watched her. 

She walked over to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders as she sat down on her lap with her legs bent over one of Sarah’s. It was worrisome how simple it was to have her there in a way someone else would probably say they could get used to. Sarah moved her free hand to Bet’s thigh once she’d lit her smoke, her other elbow propped on the table behind her.  

“I knew you were thinking about me on your lap,” Bet murmured. 

“Yeah, but you’re sideways,” Sarah said, holding the cigarette up to Bet’s lips. “So it doesn’t count.”

Bet took a drag, humming softly as Sarah ran her hand along her skin. 

“You didn’t stay mad at me for very long,” Sarah said, enjoying the feeling of Bet leaning against her too much for how she'd acted tonight. 

“I couldn’t, I think I’m just mad in general,” Bet said, tracing circles on Sarah’s shoulder and resting her other hand against her chest. 

“You have a reason to be,” Sarah said, bringing her fingers to Bet’s lips again so she could have another drag. “And it’s a bad sign that hanging around me makes you feel better.”

“Yeah, it's pretty messed up how that works," Bet said. "But I'm not going to deny it just because it's a disaster."

"Just like how I'm going to see you again even though I do something I shouldn't every time," Sarah said. 

"Wouldn't it be boring if you only did what you're supposed to do, though?" Bet asked. 

"I liked boring a lot, it was straightforward," Sarah said. "Predictable and easy, too," she added.

"Then you met me," Bet said. 

"Then I met you," Sarah agreed. "I think you're destructive."

"I know I am," Bet said. "Can't really change it, though."

"Do you want to?" Sarah asked, still caressing her skin. 

"I don't think so, but I might have to eventually," Bet said, sighing. "Can you even imagine it?"

"What, a calmed-down version of you that doesn't lash out or go too far or drink too much or speak before thinking? No," Sarah said. "But I'm sure you could be her if you wanted it badly enough."

"I want other things more," Bet said. 

"And you're so persistent, I can only imagine what you'd get if you put your energy into something besides me," Sarah said.

"Too bad," Bet said. "I like you."

"You have bad taste," Sarah said, and Bet just sat quietly for a couple of minutes, like she was feeling her heartbeat and trying to confirm she was really alive.

Sarah held the cigarette to Bet’s lips again after several drags for herself, then patted her knee once she'd exhaled. 

"Up, your ride's probably here," Sarah said. 

"Will you walk me out front?" Bet asked, slowly uncurling from Sarah's lap and running a hand through her hair once she stood up. 

"Fine," Sarah said, stopping at an ashtray before Bet grabbed her hand. 

"Since when do we do that?" Sarah asked, glaring down at their forcefully intertwined fingers. 

"It's for two seconds, you'll survive," Bet said, dragging her through the bar to the entrance. "You sure you don't just wanna come home with me?"

"I can't," Sarah said, squeezing her hand slightly before letting go. 

"And you can't kiss me?" Bet asked, pouting slightly as she glanced at the car pulling up to the curb.

"Nope," Sarah said, instead reaching to hold the side of her neck, stroking her thumb over the skin she wanted to bite and mark again. 

Bet leaned into her touch like it was a routine of theirs, the rejection and the touch that always seemed like it was taken as a promise of something in the future, sighing quietly before Sarah dropped her hand. 

"See you later," Bet said, her gaze lingering over her shoulder as she got into the car. 

Sarah made sure Bet had already settled up with Charlie back inside, not trying to overthink the fact that she had been paying for all of her drinks and barely mentioned it. She took her time walking home as she usually did, not in any rush to sit down for hours and try to push Bet from her mind until she either fell asleep or the sun came up. She’d gone from being afraid to touch her at all to inviting her into her arms like it was normal, and maybe it was, but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know if it should be for the two of them, either, even though Bet always melted into her like she was waiting to be there. It was all so volatile, snapping and challenging for what felt like hours before seeing each other in ways that were likely more intimate than if they’d just hooked up the night they met. It was getting harder by the moment for Sarah to justify not sleeping with her, as if that was still the only thing she wanted at this point. Her phone buzzed while she was almost done with her walk, and she couldn’t help the way her mouth upturned. It was awful to know she wasn't the only one who had an effect from afar.

Bet: home safe, wish you were here tho </3 

Bet: [photo]

Sarah stared at the image, Bet standing in a lighted floor-length mirror with one arm covering her chest and some tiny pajama shorts on that seemed like they shouldn’t be allowed to count as clothing. She’d received plenty of pictures from women before and seen even more in person, but it was Bet, and that made her pore over every detail for too long. She was used to seeing her tease, but not like this. Her glances and outfit choices for public places were tempting on their own, but she was too experienced to ignore the intimacy of someone's bedroom in the background, the half covering up like she wanted Sarah to picture her showing more, the choice to have something on that wasn't underwear but that Sarah could easily imagine touching her through. It was an obvious taunt, and Bet was clearly showing off, but she looked just bashful enough that it made Sarah feel more untethered than if she’d just sent her tits and explicitly asked Sarah over to fuck.

Sarah: you got home and took your clothes off for me? 

Bet: yeah, and I’d take everything off even faster if you were in my room

Bet: ur cruel to me, sarah 

Sarah: you’re desperate for me, what am I supposed to do if I’m not mean?

Bet: you could be a little nice and give me a kiss next time you see me ):

Bet: or let me cum

Bet: maybe both 

Sarah sighed as she made it to her front door, heading inside before responding again. She let Bet wait for as long as it took to grab herself a drink before sitting on the couch, knowing she’d still be there eager for a reply when she settled. 

Sarah: and what if I don’t? 

Bet: I’ll still keep trying, babe

Bet: I'd to make u feel good too )): I'd be so good to u 

Bet: I don’t think I could get u out of my head even if I wanted to. I don’t tho

Sarah: want me to say something nice?

Bet: yes please

Sarah: the pajamas are cute

Bet: is that it???? 

Sarah: yes. it was nice of me to say

Bet: sarahhhhhhhhHHH

Bet: what abt the rest of the pic ur so mean to meeeeeeeee

Sarah: you can whine in a text?

Bet: I think u like it

Sarah: I like hearing it, doesn’t do much to read

Bet: ha. ur a freak

Sarah: because I like the sounds you make? 

Bet: no bc u like being mean to me

Bet: but I think u like crazy stuff in bed and that’s why u won’t tell me what u think abt

Sarah: I won’t tell you because you’d stay home and masturbate about it for a week straight and I wouldn’t have anyone to drink with 

Sarah: you seemed like you were going to cry in the alley. It was almost sad, I know you were soaked. You can't handle hearing anything I have to say

Bet: but I’d call you and let you listen again if u told me

Bet: we could facetime and u could see me cum instead of jst hearing it

Bet: also does that mean u would miss me if we wrnt drinking together?? :) yay

Sarah: you are so dumb. 

Bet: if we were on ft you would see me giggling n blushing rn

Bet: love when u call me that 💜💚🧡❤️‍🔥💘💚❤️‍🔥

Sarah: you need to go to sleep

Bet: but now I’m excited

Sarah: not my issue, but you should probably get off since you were such a cunt after I embarrassed you outside and you had to sit around all wet and frustrated after. You’ll sleep better

Bet: I wasn’t embarrassed to have u controlling me like that

Bet: but I rlly like when you worry about my orgasms + my sleep :) want me to use fingers or a toy?

Sarah: you like toys?

Bet: of course I do. I like a lot of things

Sarah: what’s your favorite?

Bet: vibe inside and fingers outside 

Bet: or rabbit

Bet: or suction cup dildo and removable showerhead if I’m tht bored

The last option gave Sarah pause as she pictured Bet, wondering what position she preferred for that particular setup. 

Sarah: what do you use when you’re thinking about me?

Bet: just fingers every time so I can pretend it’s real

Sarah: right. so that’s what you use tonight

Bet: fuck you

Sarah: but you’re still going to do what I say, aren’t you?

Bet: obv

Sarah: your spelling is ridiculous 

Bet: its an abbrev and ur too drunk to be typing so many words with puctiitoion

Bet: punctuation

Sarah: I’m not that drunk. I walked home and I’ve got about a hundred years, pounds, and inches on you. My tolerance is higher

Bet: years pounds and inches sounds hot ughhhh

Bet: put it all on top of me or inside me or wherever pls i needittr

Bet: need it

Sarah: go to bed. That looked hard for you to type

Bet: fine. gonna use my fingers only (rude) and think abt u inside me 🙄

Sarah: what the fuck

Bet: u cant even say wtf come on

Bet: do u want me to use smth else???

Sarah: how do you get the little guy rolling his eyes? I think your contact should have that

Sarah: also, do they charge you extra to put so many of the emoticon pictures?

Bet: my orgasm is gonna be so confusing ur such a bitch GOODNIGHT SARAH. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Sarah: night dumbass

The rest of the night couldn’t be easily focused on anything besides Bet, Sarah discovered as she revisited her photo more than a couple of times. She was unfortunately somewhat charmed by her style of texting, too, quick successions of messages and responses that appeared so fast it was like they were in the same room, and it was bothering her to know she’d probably be glad the next time Bet sent her anything whether it was annoying or not. She read back some of the messages, knowing Bet wanted to be told more about how the things she said made Sarah feel, but she genuinely feared what Bet would do to her the next time they saw each other if she informed her that she was picturing her soaking wet, bouncing on something long and thick. She kept it to herself like she did with so much lately, finally turning on the TV and letting it drone away as she drank until birds started chirping and her eyes got too heavy to keep checking for a new notification.

Chapter Text

Bet didn't text until the middle of the next day as Sarah was pretending to do laundry, which involved staring at a basket of clean clothes and folding something every fifteen minutes before taking another 'break' to drink and ruminate in excess. She'd spent an embarrassing amount of time in the morning searching on her computer about adding pictures to people's contact names in her phone, finally succeeding in not only including the eye roll but a contact photo of a mischievous looking cat. Her search history, should her computer be unexpectedly seized within the day, consisted of a lot of phrases she'd never typed before in her life that would surely indicate some sort of mental break. 'Little black cat being very naughty' was effective enough, though, to find something that felt like Bet’s personality when she looked at the small circle near her name.

Bet🙄: hi Sarah

Bet🙄: srry I didn't say good morning. orgasm rlly knocked me out and I slept in :) thanks for the inspiration, luv how u take care of me

Sarah: you don't have to say good morning to me unless you had a sex dream and you call first thing.

Bet🙄: ok but I said it so now what lol. are u hungry btw?

Sarah: I was about to make something to eat, why?

Bet🙄: can I pls drop off food at ur house

Bet🙄: I swear I didn't make it for u I just made too much

Bet🙄: and u eat like shit so say yes

Sarah: why do I feel like you're already on the way to my home?

Bet🙄: well yeah I'm like abt to leave. bc ur gonna say yes bc u want to try my cooking sooooo badddddd

Sarah: whatever. But you can't come inside

Bet🙄: fine yay see u soon 

Sarah figured she only had a few minutes before Bet arrived, opting to bring her drink outside and wait on her front step. Sure enough, the unnecessarily massive SUV appeared so quickly Sarah wondered if Bet was just waiting around the corner when she texted her in the first place. Bet hopped out of the car holding a container in one hand, walking over with too much excitement. She was wearing low slung sweats with the waistband of her boxers peeking out and a tight tank top, and Sarah tried not to notice it didn’t seem like she had on a bra which was difficult considering her eager strides. 

“Waiting for me, that’s so sweet,” Bet said, grinning as Sarah set her drink down and stood up.

“I knew you’d be suspiciously fast,” Sarah said, accepting the container.

It was still very warm to the touch, and Bet had written ‘for Sarah’ on the lid surrounded with little hearts and stars. She bit back a comment about it looking like a school lunch for a child, nodding slightly. 

“It’s penne with vodka sauce,” Bet said proudly. “Didn't know if you'd eat it if there wasn't vodka involved. You have to tell me if it’s good.”

“Sure,” Sarah said, still staring at the container.

“What is it?” Bet asked curiously.

“The decorations,” Sarah said simply, like she wasn’t terribly charmed. “And you have more legible handwriting than I expected.”

“Ooh, can you analyze it?” Bet asked. 

“Yeah, looks like you’re right handed, gay, and annoying,” Sarah said. “You sure this isn’t going to poison me?”

“Why would I poison you when I’m trying to make you mine?” Bet asked, tilting her head. 

“Because I keep rejecting you, obviously,” Sarah said, trying to tear her eyes from the temptingly low neckline of Bet’s top.

“Doesn’t feel as much like rejection lately, just a delay,” Bet said, adjusting the sunglasses she seemed to be using as a headband. “You’re staring at my boobs, by the way.” 

“No,” Sarah said, her eyes flicking to Bet’s face. 

“Oh my god, get a grip,” Bet teased, feigning offense as she covered up with one hand. 

All it did was make Sarah think of the topless picture she’d sent, and suddenly she didn’t want to send her away as quickly as she initially intended to. 

“I could get a grip, yeah,” Sarah said, her free hand pulling at Bet’s wrist. Of course it came away easily, falling to her side.

“Oh,” Bet said quietly, stepping closer. "What do you mean?"

“Don’t play dumb,” Sarah said, and Bet blinked up at her like that was exactly what she intended to do. 

Sarah exhaled, sliding her hand up Bet’s waist before cupping the side of her breast. She squeezed slightly, then rubbed her thumb over her nipple through the soft material of her top. Bet was either cold in her car, or so sensitive she became stiff the moment Sarah touched her. Either way, she wished she had her mouth on her. The way she was working to keep from reacting at all made Sarah lose track of the time she was spending circling her thumb as she pictured her tongue there instead, wondering if Bet would be noisy if she teased her that way in private. 

“Jesus, Sarah,” Bet said somewhat unsteadily, like she was trying to be snarky despite standing so still she seemed scared to move. 

“What’s wrong? This seems like what you wanted, showoff,” Sarah said, shifting her hand so she could spread her fingers enough to deliver a hard, slow squeeze. Bet exhaled, her lips pouting slightly as Sarah squeezed again. “You’re so quiet, did you not want me to grab your tits?”

Bet made a small, half-concealed sound, still not daring to move. Sarah didn’t say anything else, changing her focus to Bet’s other breast and kneading for a moment before tugging at her nipple and dropping her hand. Bet swallowed visibly, her cheeks flushed. 

“You should probably go eat,” she said, looking up at Sarah. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said, glancing at the container in her hand just to stop staring at the thin straps on Bet’s shoulders that would be way too easy to pull down her arms. 

“Feeling me up without a kiss is rude,” Bet said. 

“I didn’t feel you up,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “That would take a lot longer.”

“We could just go inside,” Bet said. “Then you’d have as much time as you want."

“You'd like that, huh? I'd rip this little top off of you so fast," Sarah said, hooking a finger in the front and keeping her eyes on Bet's face as she pulled harshly at it, probably enough to see something nice if she looked down. "And I'd touch you everywhere, until you were begging for me inside you. Then, I'd make you wait some more."

She took her hand away again, then watched Bet adjust herself, flustered. 

"I would like that, yeah," Bet said. "If you don't want me to see your place, you could just make me close my eyes, fuck me against the door, and tell me to leave right after."

"It's not that, I'm just never going to fuck you in my home," Sarah said. "Thanks for telling me another one of your fantasies, though.”

"Never anyone, or me specifically?" Bet asked, ignoring her latter comment.

"You specifically," Sarah said honestly. 

"So, I can never come inside because if I do you'll have sex with me?" Bet asked, smirking. "And that breaks your stupid rules?"

"If that's what you need to tell yourself, then sure," Sarah said. "Get home safe, might want to let some of the blood get back to your brain before you peel out, though.”

Sarah patted her once on the head, and it seemed like Bet was short circuiting before she turned quickly and retreated back to her car. Sarah opened her front door, propping it with her foot while she grabbed her drink and headed back in with the container of pasta still gripped in her hand. She ate at the table instead of on the couch, but she wasn't sure why that felt necessary. She still left the TV on, but her thoughts were rattling. Even though it wasn't in the context that usually freaked her out, eating Bet's cooking felt intimate, and she wasn't dumb enough to believe she just happened to make too much food for herself. She could have saved the leftovers or just tossed them if that was the case, but instead she packed them up and drew all over the container then drove straight to Sarah's house before asking if it was okay to come by in the first place. She wasn't sure if Bet's whole plan was to somehow get inside and the food was just an excuse to try, or if she was being thoughtful or sweet or something equally horrifying. Sarah wasn't sure why the idea of Bet in her space was so unacceptable, either, besides Bet having been somewhat spot on in her assumption that Sarah wouldn't be able to control herself. Maybe it was the idea of being behind closed doors with her at all, or the implication that afterwards she might need to use Sarah's shower or fall asleep in her bed or any number of other invasive things that would make it so Sarah could picture her there all the time. She'd never found it particularly personal to host a one night stand or have a few repeated hookups with someone she didn't talk to outside of coordinating times, but inviting Bet inside would mean she couldn't escape her. She'd probably want to sit and talk, pointing things out around her home and asking questions Sarah wouldn't want to answer. Maybe it was just something about being seen in her own habitat, one she didn't feel a huge attachment to but that still held indications she lived there that had faded into the background for Sarah already. Bet's perceptiveness might be too much for her, much easier to stomach when she could at least keep track of everything she was picking up on. Regardless, she couldn't let Bet in, and eating the food she'd made still felt like she had, somehow. She saved half for later, sitting on the couch again once it was put away in the fridge.

Sarah: food's good, unfortunately. 

Bet🙄: why unfortunately? 

Bet🙄: did it make u fall in love with me?????

Sarah: don't be a jackass. It's just going to make my other food taste like shit. You're also really irritating when you get compliments.

Bet🙄: awwwwwwwww glad u liked it. when u heat up the rest put a tiny bit of water so it doesn't get too dry

Sarah: who said I kept the rest? 

Bet🙄: you said it was good and I doubt you have smth better to look forward to for tomo. and u didn't immediately tell me to come back and get my cute container so I think u still have it 

Sarah: fair enough. I couldn't invite you back so soon, anyway

Bet🙄: why not? ur extra mean today )):

Sarah: because you'd probably show up in a wet t shirt or something stupid

Bet🙄: I didn't realize you were such a boob guy lol 

Sarah: I'm an everything guy, I like women. Did you really think I wouldn't be distracted?

Bet🙄: no, I was counting on it. worked like a charm, I got groped by my crush

Bet🙄: your hands feel so good on me ugh I need them all over like u said.. I didn't wanna leave

Sarah: go do something productive with your day.

Bet🙄: like what?

Sarah: I don't know. Take a break from flirting, at least. It can't be healthy.

Bet🙄: if hitting on u makes me sick then I need to go to the hospital 🤒🏥🚨🚑😭😚🥰🤪💙🧡💜💚💘

Sarah: bye, Bet. 

Bet🙄: byeeee ttyl

———

Bet was still wired when she got home, replaying Sarah's touch in her mind as she texted her. It was driving her crazy to have so much with her and so little, always feeling closer to what she wanted while being swatted down and dismissed. She knew it would happen every time until it didn't, but it wasn't any easier to think of it rationally. If she was truly rational, she'd know that whatever psychosexual game she was fully wrapped up in was becoming somewhat of a detriment instead of replaying each moment in her mind like she could squeeze extra enjoyment from her memories. She got more out of Sarah fondling her for a couple of minutes than she could out of fucking herself for an hour, and even if she had an excuse to call her about a dream again soon, she needed more. Her fantasies were downright unacceptable at this point, and though they fueled her she was also growing frustrated past the point of it being fun. She stared at her phone as she opened a new bottle of wine, not sure if she wanted to bother Sarah again so soon. She had to make her miss her at least a little, so she needed a distraction so heavy and substantial it could knock Sarah’s grip from her neck long enough for her to take a breath. 

“Bet?” Steph answered the call before the first ring was finished, audibly shocked. “Is this really you?”

“Yeah,” Bet said, lying on her back with her feet dangling over the arm of her couch. “How’s it going?” 

“You- I don’t hear from you for six months, and it’s ‘how’s it going’?! Where are you? Are you okay?” Steph asked hurriedly. “Sorry, I’m just leaving lunch, let me get in my car.”

Bet listened, her heart squeezing as the echo of Steph’s voice filled the tiny spaces it had been missing from since she left LA. The sound of her keys jingling and heels clacking through a parking garage made her wonder if she should have made this call at all, since mundane sounds like that could make her feel nauseous with memories.

“You still there?” Steph asked. 

“I’m here,” Bet said. 

“Babe, where did you go?” Steph asked, less frantic but now obviously sad. 

“I had to leave after I talked to the network, there was no way I could stay,” Bet said. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

“It’s not that,” Steph said. “I was worried about you, you weren’t okay. You were at my place almost every day for weeks, then you just disappeared. You weren't eating, you barely slept…I didn't feel good about you being on your own. I still don't.”

“I didn’t want to fight about staying,” Bet said. “What were you gonna do, Steph? Tell me to go to some fancy rehab getaway and try to feel better?”

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Steph said. “Or let you stay with me until whenever you needed to get out of LA, and then I would have helped you leave.”

“I didn’t want your help leaving,” Bet said. “I didn’t want you to see me like that.” 

“And now I never get to see you at all,” Steph said, her voice sounding watery. “I miss you so much, I can’t even believe you called because I thought you were gone forever.” 

“You stopped calling,” Bet said. “I figured-“

“I was scared I was hurting you, or stressing you out more,” Steph said. “I know how you are, you feel guilty when people can’t reach you.”

“Okay,” Bet said quietly, sighing. “I miss you, too.”

“Can you say where you are?” Steph asked. “I’ve seen some blinds that I thought might be about you, but nobody ever has photos.”

“I still have a team,” Bet said. “It’s awesome how everyone can be remote now, I just pay them a fuckton of money to make sure nobody leaks photos of me and then I forget they exist until some cunt tries to take a picture of me again. I’ve been bribing a random ass restaurant to hide me, too."

"You don't have to hide from me, though," Steph said. 

"You can’t come here, I wouldn’t feel safe anymore," Bet said. "And if I say where I am, you'll come."

“I’m sorry,” Steph said. “I know I couldn’t visit, I just…you’re really okay? You sound tipsy.”

“I’m tipsy and I’m fine,” Bet said. “And I’m somewhere safe.”

“I just hate not being able to look out for you,” Steph said. “And I hate still being here when you’re not.”

Bet hadn't planned for how heartbroken Steph would sound, but it was naive to think she'd just be happy to hear from her after how everything unraveled. 

“I’ve been wearing your shirt a lot lately,” Bet said. “It keeps me warm even though it's not warm, you know what I mean? My house here fucking sucks. Like, it’s awesome, but it sucks because there’s basically nothing in it and you're not here. We can’t watch Mamma Mia and try to bake stuff in the middle of the night and then give up and get someone to bring us cake.”

Steph was sniffling, and Bet bit the inside of her cheek. She was always so sensitive, and Bet loved it about her when she could feel like her partner in crime instead of being the one making her cry. 

“And it’s hard not having anything to work on, I know I always complained about being too busy but I wish I could do, like, bad improv for the same fans that came to live shows a million times and didn’t get tired of my bullshit,” Bet said, trying to pivot from sentimentality. “And I miss taking mirror selfies with you and then coordinating when to post them months later so we could see people freaking out online about our secret love.” 

“Yeah, secret,” Steph said, laughing between sniffles. “I loved you, and everyone knew it.”

“I loved you, too,” Bet said, the words feeling difficult to say now. She'd been avoiding putting things in past-tense that had to do with Steph.

“I know you did,” Steph said. “And I know we could have never fully, like, yeah…but I still sometimes wonder if I could have gotten you to stay.” 

“Being my girlfriend would have made me leave you faster,” Bet said. “It was better to be…whatever we were.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Steph said. “At least I got to have you for a little, in the ways I could. That’s more than most people can say.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Bet said.

“Like I ever could,” Steph said.

“How’s the spinoff going?” Bet asked. “I checked on your news stuff recently because I was thinking about you, they're still using an old headshot for your Deadline articles.”

“Shooting has been fine, but production is taking forever. They cleaned house as much as they could without, like, fully admitting the whole network was fucked, so it’s clunky with the new team. Worth it, obviously, just a lot,” Steph said. "Nobody can talk about you, I think everyone who stayed on feels guilty."

“Did you really say no to taking over as host just because the other gig was better?” Bet asked.

“No, I couldn’t sit at the desk,” Steph said. “I know you and I discussed it again before your final meeting, and you said you'd want me to go for it if it was between that and leaving altogether. We tried to shoot a test, and I walked out. It felt so wrong, I couldn't do it knowing it wasn't a joke where you'd come in and kick me out so you could have your spot back.”

“Stephie,” Bet said, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t be sorry for that, it was, like…I don’t know, Bit City was literally cursed without you. I didn’t want it, and I negotiated for a whole new location so none of us have to go back to that studio,” Steph said. “Not everyone stayed, but it’ll be fine. Nothing like what we had, but fine. They're airing everything up until your last day as the final season, then it's over and they'll drop the spinoff like that was the plan all along.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Bet asked, talk of the show getting to be too much already. She refilled her wine glass. “I’m asking as a friend, not a jealous ex, if that matters.”

“You can’t be my jealous ex if we were just coworkers in love, babe,” Steph said. “I’m dating, it’s not deep but it’s something. She’s sweet, and way too responsible, and she’s not an actor so she thinks everything I do is cool. It’s kind of fun.”

“Good, you deserve to have fun,” Bet said. “And someone responsible, probably less late night cakes that way.” 

“Yeah, she has me doing hot yoga,” Steph said. “I miss gym and tequila Tuesdays.”

“It was a perfect system,” Bet said.

“Do you have some kind of small town girl wherever you are?” Steph asked. “No offense, but I know you’re not celibate all of a sudden just because you got horribly traumatized and your whole entire life changed.”

“Glad you still know me,” Bet said. “I tried to date, like, normally when I first got here because I wasn’t really thinking about how much people were paying attention to me, but that went bad pretty fast. Hooked up a little, but nobody was really…I don't know. I don't feel like most people can deal with me right now.”

“So, who is it that's dealing with you?” Steph asked. 

“She’s older,” Bet started. “And not industry in any regard, but she’s…a lot. Really intense, but she's kind of incredible. She’s rejected me, like, a hundred times but we’ve also, like…”

“Oh my god, B,” Steph groaned. “How are you finding new types of situationships the world has never seen? What are you doing with her, huh? Hand stuff? Glory hole?”

“Ew,” Bet said, laughing. “She won’t even kiss me, but then she gets me off over the phone. Shit like that where it’s like, tenth base, and then hand holding is barely allowed. She made me grind on her leg outside of the bar we go to and didn't even let me finish, and you know I don't bottom like that.” 

“I don’t think tenth base is a thing, and it's insane you're bottoming, but that all still sounds like something you’d like,” Steph said. “Undefined and stressful so you can have something to look forward to.” 

“Yeah, basically…I think I like that she doesn’t treat me like I’m gonna snap in half if she’s not coddling me,” Bet said. It wasn't a dig at Steph, but she knew if she'd stuck around their whole dynamic would have shifted.

“But she knows what happened, right?” Steph asked.

“Not all the details, but generally, yeah,” Bet said. “She used to be a detective, so she’s seen some shit. Not that it didn't phase her, she just, like, got it.”

“Oh, yikes,” Steph said, in the type of voice she would use if Bet pitched potentially bleaching her hair or getting into religion. 

“Why yikes? I don’t really know who else could handle me,” Bet said.

“I mean, what do you know about her? Older with a ton of baggage from a job like that sounds like a lot more drama than just sex without kissing,” Steph said. 

“Okay, we haven’t had sex, we just…have done some sexual things ,” Bet said. “I know she’s retired, and that she looked a little familiar when we met because she worked on some high profile stuff I might have caught a doc about or something ages ago. She moved out here to escape, too.”

“It just sounds like a lot for you right now,” Steph said. “From a place of love, of course, I just…would it be so bad to date someone normal? And, like, not 'intense'?” 

“It’s not like we talk about crimes all day, if anything we barely talk about it at all,” Bet said. “It’s just really complicated, I don’t know. I couldn’t have met someone like her in LA, she’s not…I can’t compare her to anyone.”

“Do you feel safe with her?” Steph asked. 

“She’s protective,” Bet mumbled, suddenly feeling much too judged by someone who hadn’t heard from her in months and didn’t really know how she was doing let alone why she felt like she needed her strange dynamic with Sarah in order to get out of bed every day. “She doesn’t want to see me get hurt.”

Bet was cherry picking, knowing that what Sarah had actually said was more to the tune of wanting to be the only one tormenting her. She had a feeling Steph would not find that very romantic or reassuring.

“I don’t know,” Steph said, wary.

“I wasn’t asking, I was answering your questions,” Bet said. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be mean,” Steph said. “I’m protective of you, too.”

“Yeah, and you’re not here,” Bet said. 

“I just think you should look her up or something, or have your team do it,” Steph said. “You never know.” 

“What, so I’m supposed to assume everyone is out to get me for the rest of my life?” Bet asked. “If it’s a mistake, I’m still making it because I want to. I have control.”

“Okay,” Steph said, sighing. “Well, I hope you’re very happy with her and she treats you nicely, Bet.”

“You’re the one who sounds jealous,” Bet said. “I shouldn’t have assumed it would be me.” 

“I’m not jealous, babe, I’m worried sick and I just don’t think you sound like you’re in a good enough place to be doing something dumb that could get you hurt,” Steph said. 

"You don't understand, I'm not worried about getting hurt," Bet said. "I'm fucking wrecked, Steph. She makes me feel less like I am. It's that simple."

“I just want you to take care of yourself instead of giving up, that's why I wanted you to stay here,” Steph said defeatedly. "Then I could help, but I can tell you're boxing me out."

Bet exhaled through her nose, trying not to raise her voice. She knew Steph was just concerned, and maybe that was totally fair, but she didn’t think it was justified to come in so hot when she could have left it at jokes about situationships. 

“I didn’t give up, I just changed,” Bet said. “I’m gonna go, tell the others I say hey or whatever.”

“Bet, don’t hang up, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” Steph said. “I love you, I just want you to be okay. I shouldn’t have said anything about your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bet said. 

“Okay, well, whoever she is. I really did mean it when I said I hope she takes care of you and that you’re happy,” Steph said. "Sorry it sounded bitchy."

“Thanks,” Bet said, knowing she'd never be able to explain Sarah properly to someone who thought she needed to be bubble wrapped and shipped off to some beachside recovery program for rich, broken people. “I just wanted you to know I’m alive and I miss you. It was good to hear your voice.”

“I hope I can see you again,” Steph said. “I’ll never stop thinking about you.”

“We can meet up on the moon,” Bet said.

“Or at the bottom of the ocean,” Steph added. 

“Bye, Stephie,” Bet said.

“Bye, B,” Steph said. 

The silence hit worse than it had in a while, and Bet turned on the TV quickly to fill the room with something else. Maybe the universe was conspiring to ruin her day, or maybe her smart devices picked up on mentions of fucking improv comedy and the name of her show, because her own face stared back at her from her top streaming suggestions. She was beaming, her hair shorter than it was now, makeup flawless, retouching impossibly perfect. She could remember the shoot clearly, fresh photos to promote the season she didn't know would be her last. It was a fun day on set, especially when she and Steph snuck off to steal kisses when they were supposed to be at lunch. She'd been hopeful and excited, still riding the high of the last finale, and now she wasn't even going to watch the season at all. The thought of seeing herself through the stalker's eyes turned her stomach, and she knew she'd just end up more angry and depressed if she thought too hard about the network still making money off of streaming everything right up to her quick demise. It did feel like looking at a ghost, in a way. Her career was dead, Bet the TV character was dead, and there was no way she could come back. She stared back at her unblinking, brightly smiling self for a while longer, until she needed to pour more wine. She clicked away from the pretty, surreal picture, selecting yet another reality show full of vapid people whose biggest public-facing problems were engagement ring carats and friend group drama. She turned her phone off, curled up on the couch for a majority of the rest of the day and wondering if Steph had a point about Sarah. She usually did, and Bet had been defensive. It was hard to reminisce about one of the best relationships she’d ever had that was never allowed to actually be what it was supposed to while also trying to rationalize the pure chaos that she craved. The dissonance was emphasized in painfully sharp definition when Steph reminded her so easily that she loved her, that she enjoyed the time they had together. She didn't make her work for any of it, and at a point Bet had started to resent how she could act shitty and still have Steph ready to fight on her side. She was too sweet for what she needed now, and Bet knew that, but she didn't know how long she could go without finding out if Sarah was really what she needed instead.

Chapter Text

Sarah was at the bar again, having gone a couple of days without seeing Bet. She hadn't been busy with anything after Bet dropped off the unfairly amazing pasta, just deep in thoughts that she didn't feel like having around other people. Space from Bet, which she'd been slowly claiming to want less and less of, was as unpleasant as she expected. She'd already implied she would miss her a bit if they didn't see each other, and normally if she was missing somebody she would fill that space with any number of others until she forgot the person she missed existed at all, but nothing about her and Bet felt normal anymore. She ate the rest of the pasta, deciding against texting Bet again just to tell her the food was still great. Nearly all of her rules were broken, she was going out of her way to do things that were probably erring into the territory of truly liking her, and she couldn't stand it especially because of how Bet went about liking her, too. Sarah was too attached to her and she knew that, but the way Bet consistently asked about her life and gave definitive analyses of her personality and coping mechanisms in response was overwhelming. She wasn't necessarily hung up on the argument they had a few nights ago, but she didn't know what to do next, either, especially after she held her and reassured her and texted her like she cared nearly as much as she actually did. They hadn't fought at all during the food drop off despite it being out of the blue and somewhat overbearing on Bet's part, and that made it even stranger that Bet let their texting conversation end and left it at that. Sarah wasn't used to not feeling at least a little crowded by her, wondering if the pasta had been some kind of test and she failed it. Maybe she was supposed to refuse to take it, or say it was bad, or maybe Bet really was disappointed she wasn't invited inside and was finally over their confusing chase. She was definitely surprised that Bet let her stay silent for multiple days, a diversion from her needy pushiness, but she eventually gave up on whatever room she'd allowed to spread between them and Sarah's phone rang.

"I was starting to think you finally got some sense knocked into you," Sarah answered. 

"Come over," Bet said, her tone demanding but not in her usually suggestive way. "I want to talk."

"You always want to talk," Sarah said, mildly perplexed. "Why not just come to the bar?"

"I don't want to talk about it there, Sarah. I'm sending you a car, just come to my house," Bet said. "I'm being serious."

"What if I don't want to leave? I just got another drink," Sarah said.

"Whatever, bring it to go, I don't care," Bet said, sounding unplayfully angry. "God, Ubers here take fucking forever. It'll be there in, like, five more minutes."

"More? Did you call it before you called me? That's presumptuous," Sarah said. "Glad you didn't get any less rude in a couple days. How'd you even know I was here and not at home?"

"I texted Charlie. You’d better be in the car when it's there, or I’ll come and get you myself,” Bet said. 

“Are you gonna tell me what this is about?” Sarah asked. 

“No,” Bet said. “See you soon.”

"Charlie, you can't just tell her where I am," Sarah said once Bet ended the call. 

"She said she wanted to surprise you, it sounded sweet," Charlie said with a shrug. 

"Every time she's gone to you looking for me she's been pissed. Both of you are fucking idiots," Sarah said.

Sarah wasn’t used to Bet being so cryptic, narrowing her eyes as she got a clearly hastily typed text with the impending car’s license plate information and model description. She slammed her new drink quickly as the car pulled up, getting into the back once she’d all but stormed outside. 

“How’s your night going?” the driver asked as she got in. 

“Was better before my presence was requested by the most annoying person on earth,” Sarah said. 

The driver seemed to get the message that she wasn’t interested in small talk, and for the duration of the drive Sarah tried to guess what was so urgent that Bet couldn’t wait to see her. She hadn’t heard her take such a snippy, heated tone before, but Bet wasn’t predictable in a way that Sarah could assume her anger was justified. When the car pulled up to Bet’s home, Sarah got out quickly and approached the front door. It swung open before Sarah could knock.

“I’m upset with you,” Bet said, motioning for her to come inside.

“Hello to you, too,” Sarah said, stepping into an entryway that felt much too formal for what they were usually doing together. “Nice house.”

“Don’t do that,” Bet said, sighing. She was wearing cutoffs and a crop top, and Sarah couldn’t entirely doubt that it was some kind of strategy to distract her while they were likely going to argue again.

“Why are you upset?” Sarah asked, looking down at Bet’s face. It didn’t seem like she’d been crying, at least, but her expression was confusing. "We didn't talk for days, how'd you find something to be mad about out of thin air? Thought we left on a decent enough note, for us."

Sarah could feel how painfully quiet and tense the air became during every pause, and the way Bet was staring didn’t improve it.

“I got too impatient,” Bet said, crossing her arms before turning and leading Sarah from the foyer to her living room.

“About what?” Sarah asked, noticing Bet’s phone clutched tightly in one hand but not knowing what to think about it.

“You,” Bet said, facing her again. “I got so desperate I reached out to someone who still matters to me, but that just made me want to know you more. You wouldn’t tell me anything, so I looked into it.”

Sarah clenched her jaw. 

"What do you mean 'looked into it'?" she asked. 

"What it sounds like. I didn't go to the bar for a day because I felt conflicted and I was, like, being weird, then I just started Googling shit because I knew the next time I saw you I'd probably start asking again and make you mad anyway," Bet explained, which frankly didn't make any sense to Sarah at all.

“You don't think this bullshit makes me mad, too? It’s not my problem if you went out of your way to see something that ruined your mood,” Sarah said. “And I told you I don’t want to talk about it. If it was something simple I would have just said it, but it’s not the type of thing you were supposed to know about at all.”

“Oh, so you were just going to keep fucking around with me like you don’t care about me, and like you can't figure out why I make you feel so stressed,” Bet said, “when you literally-“

“Don’t,” Sarah said. “If you say it out loud, I’m leaving right now. You can call me another ride, since you’re so in charge.”

“It’s fucking scary, Sarah,” Bet said. 

"No shit, that's why I didn't tell you," Sarah said. "Are you concussed? I told you it's dangerous wanting things you can't afford, and if you couldn't afford to get scared you shouldn't have looked where I told you not to." 

“You can't use catchphrases to justify shutting people out when it's not just vague fucking nonsense actually keeping you all closed off. And it feels, like…like you’re pushing me away because I remind you of what happened," Bet said, much more confident than she had the right to be. "It’s not fair to not tell me why you treat me like shit when it's because I'm hitting close to home. That’s an easy answer, you could have just said it.”

“Firstly, you never fail to remind me how much you love the way I treat you, so don't start with that. I don't need to be fair, especially not with you. Second, if I have to tell you not everything is about you one more time-“ Sarah started. 

“Bullshit,” Bet said. “All your talk about how you have secrets and you’re so mean and angry but you're territorial over me, then you can’t even say you care about me without hiding it behind something else or turning it around on me…I just wanted to know why you look at me like I’m precious and horrible at the same time.”

"You're a selfish little bitch, do you know that?” Sarah asked, condescending and accusatory. The answers that Bet wanted weren’t completely wrong, but her approach was entirely beyond what it would take for Sarah to give them to her. 

“Yeah, I fucking know that. I get to be. I have to be,” Bet said. “I’m looking out for myself.”

“Why the hell would you have to look out for yourself like that with me when I’m the one making sure you fucking get to your ride at the end of the night instead of sleeping in the goddamn bar?” Sarah asked. "You see whatever you want to see, you don't know how I look at you."

“Oh, fuck off. You don’t need to take care of me, I’ve been taking care of myself,” Bet said. 

“Yeah, doing such a good job that you’re a total powder keg and you get drunk and bitch at me instead of going home because you can’t be alone. You threw yourself at me before you knew a single thing about me besides that I was mean and I didn’t want you. It’s not just about your safety and you know it, you don’t vet every person you meet or you’d be at a lot more throats every night. Not just mine. You don’t get to know everything just because you want to,” Sarah said. 

“Well, looks like I do, actually,” Bet said, shrugging and tossing her phone onto the couch as if Sarah would care about the overly bright screen displaying an article she’d never even read herself. She didn't pick it up, and she didn't look long enough to read the headline before staring at Bet again, moving closer to her and holding a pointed finger to her face.

“And what if I did the same thing to you?” Sarah asked. “I could have looked up all the rumors about you online, but I didn’t.”

“I would get it if you did, though,” Bet said, slapping Sarah’s hand away. “Because it makes sense to want to know things about people in your life, Sarah. Even if I got upset, I'd understand.”

“You’re nosy and you have no fucking boundaries,” Sarah said. “We aren't the same, I don't understand a lot of the shit you do because you're in a whole other reality. And I don’t care what you saw, I know it’s not the whole story. Thinking you have the right to be angry over something that doesn’t involve you at all is ridiculous.”

“It doesn't matter if it was the whole story or not, it was enough,” Bet said, her brows furrowed. 

“You said it scared you,” Sarah said. “If that's true, why’d you even want to see me? Why am I here if you're looking out for yourself?”

“I can get scared and still want you,” Bet said. “Especially when you had a good reason for what you did.”

“You can’t judge my reasoning, you weren’t there,” Sarah said. “And you can’t just project onto a stranger and think I only did it for her.”

“The fact that was what you assumed says a lot,” Bet said. “I didn’t mention her at all.”

“Just tell me what the hell you’re thinking about, then,” Sarah said. “And sit down, you look like you’re about to start climbing the walls.”

“Fine. Drink?” Bet asked.

“Obviously,” Sarah said, sitting on the large, plush couch as Bet grabbed glasses and a bottle. 

“I think it’s just kind of on the nose,” Bet said once their drinks were poured and she was seated next to Sarah, seeming only marginally calmer.

“Do you hear yourself? You think my life is ‘on the nose’?” Sarah scoffed.

“In a weird, cosmic way, yeah,” Bet said. “No wonder you’re afraid of being close to people, and close to me.”

“Bet, even if you didn’t go through what you did, you would be a problem for me,” Sarah said. “And I’m not saying you’re a problem because of it at all, it's the opposite. It’s not only about that, but I can’t ignore it, either.”

“The articles I read said it wasn’t just rogue behavior, there was a conflict of interest,” Bet said, like she was waiting for her turn to talk again instead of listening. 

“I cared a lot, that was it,” Sarah said. “She’s…it was a safety issue that wasn’t being addressed fast enough, I felt like I needed to step in.”

“You freaked out when I asked if something happened to your girlfriend,” Bet fired, her words tinged with unnecessary envy.

“I didn’t freak out, it was a completely inappropriate question,” Sarah said. “And you sound jealous of someone who was going through hell. You really want me to do the same shit you think I did for her, for you? Will that make you feel better?”

“No, I’m not that insane,” Bet shook her head. “That’s honestly insulting to ask.”

“It was insulting for you to bring it up in the first place,” Sarah said, entirely mystified by her lack of self awareness.  

“It was just weird to read about you caring so much, and sacrificing everything, and hurting…maybe I’m just jealous of anyone who got to see you before you fucking gave up on letting other people matter to you and actually feeling things, even if it was too much,” Bet said.

“You’re so out of line,” Sarah said, taking a long swig from her glass. “People died, Bet. It's not a fairytale. There’s not a reality where it would make sense to want to be close to that.”

“One of them deserved it,” Bet said plainly.

“That doesn’t mean it’s something you’d want to see,” Sarah said. “And there was love there, but not how you’re thinking about it.”

“Your partner, or the girl?” Bet asked.

“I cared about them both,” Sarah said. “My partner was a solid teammate for years, he was like a brother to me. And the…yeah, the girl.”

It felt like Bet had torn up something partially healed but still hurting, and now Sarah was trying to shove pins back into a broken bone that was stabilized years ago. She didn’t want to say all of the truths that she held, because they would bleed into every part of this new, damned situation that was already spiraling out of control without additional help.

“Not romantic, though?” Bet asked, already finished with her drink. 

“Not at all,” Sarah said, knowing Bet wasn’t going to drop it until she got more answers than her online digging could provide. “I told you I was hooking up with Cali, but I never said I would even consider crossing a line with a witness or anyone else involved in a case like that.”

“I didn’t mean it in an offensive way,” Bet said. “It’s not like you can control how you feel, though. I couldn’t blame you if you did have feelings you weren't supposed to.”

“It wasn’t like that, she wanted to help us find someone prolific and she was in immediate danger. I did something impulsive because I couldn’t let it get worse, and it wasn’t my place in terms of my job, so I tried to take care of it by myself and things got out of hand. My partner shouldn’t have even been there, I wouldn’t have gone if I knew he planned to show up to try and have my back,” Sarah said, in disbelief that she'd still somehow let herself get cornered into talking about it. “And I don’t know if I would have felt so…passionate if it was somebody else, but I did what I did and I knew that would be the end for me in a lot of ways.”

“I think it’s amazing,” Bet said quietly after a silence that stretched for too long. "You saved her, and probably a bunch of other people, too."

“Is that what made you mad?” Sarah asked, still thrown by her mood. 

“Maybe,” Bet said. “Because you act like you’re the shittiest person in the world, but you did something so incredible I feel like worshipping you.”

“Bet,” Sarah said, finishing her drink and shaking her head. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not?” Bet asked. “It’s true.”

“It shouldn’t make you like me more,” Sarah said. “That’s how I can tell you shouldn’t have known about it at all.”

"I'm just feeling how I feel," Bet said. "And I feel a lot better whenever we fight."

"And I'm saying that's wrong," Sarah said. "You shouldn't want someone who you have to fight with to feel better, you should be able to just fucking talk."

“I feel good when we talk, too, you just hate talking to me,” Bet said.

“I don’t hate talking to you, I hate talking to anyone about shit that matters. It’s hard, and you make it harder because you keep wanting me even when you know exactly why you shouldn’t,” Sarah said.

“Nothing could make me stop wanting you,” Bet said, moving so quickly Sarah froze as she straddled her lap. 

Sarah could barely keep up with how Bet went from cryptically angry to accusatory to violently turned on, but it made sense because it was her. She got herself worked up in so many ways it culminated in her knees digging into Sarah’s hips and her hands gripping her shoulders. 

“You’re misplacing how you feel,” Sarah said, her hands at Bet’s waist. 

“Where should I put it all, then?” Bet asked. “Because it feels like I’m going to explode.” 

“You need to learn how to get overwhelmed without getting horny,” Sarah said, trying not to rub her hand up Bet’s side. 

“Teach me, since you’re so good at it,” Bet said, not staying as still as she probably should. 

“I don’t think you’d learn,” Sarah said, not liking how appealing it sounded to give her a lesson right now, to let out the frustration she felt after being pulled away from her interrogated like that.

“I want to go to my room,” Bet murmured. 

Sarah hummed, her hands slipping under the hem of Bet’s crop top. She couldn’t decide if she just wanted to feel the warmth of her skin or if she wanted her more excited; it felt like it had been a trap to send a car and act like this was a confrontation just to end up sighing softly on her lap after making Sarah angrier than she'd ever been at her, but things didn’t tend to be reasonable with Bet. Irresponsible, wild, and intense, but not reasonable.

“If we go to your room, what’s going to happen?” Sarah asked, Bet leaning to whisper in her ear.

“Anything you want,” Bet said, her lips nearly brushing Sarah’s skin. “Just want you to finally have me, because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t care if I’m scared.”

“You’re not being smart,” Sarah said, moving her hands higher, her thumbs at Bet’s bra line. 

“I know,” Bet said. “I was going crazy not seeing you, I guess I’m acting out.” 

"You were the one hiding from me, this time," Sarah said. “You get away with a lot of bad behavior.”

“You don’t have to let me,” Bet said.

Sarah moved her hands to push at Bet’s hips, nudging her to get up. 

“Let’s go, before I change my mind,” Sarah said. “You greedy, selfish girl.” 

Bet led her to her bedroom wordlessly after grabbing the liquor bottle and their stacked glasses, and Sarah tried not to think anything of how large and underdecorated the home was. It didn’t feel like Bet, or maybe it just wasn’t what she pictured when she tried to place someone hard to hold in a stable location. 

“Come here,” Sarah said after shutting the bedroom door as Bet emptied her hands onto some sort of mini bar setup in her room.

Bet moved closer to her, letting a gasp fall past her lips without trying to hide it as Sarah gripped her jaw tightly, making sure she looked at her with those big, pretty eyes she liked to fashion into weapons. She knew by this point that Bet enjoyed being disarmed, and she would be generous enough to give her that even though she didn't deserve it. 

“Are you gonna be good?" Sarah asked, enjoying the control she felt as Bet hesitated. "I promise I’ll still fuck you either way,” she added. 

“How do you want me?” Bet breathed. "You already think I'm bad, but I can be really, really good."

“I want you however you are, Bet, you don’t have to put on a show for me,” Sarah assured like it was a reprimand. “I’ll have you, even if you piss me off. I could have just not gotten in that car, I didn’t need to be here.”

Bet swallowed, Sarah still gripping her jaw. 

“I don't want to tell you what to do to me, so you can show me what you want and just take it,” Bet said, her voice raspy and certain. “You already know what I think about, but I need…Whatever you want, anything, I don’t care. Fuck, just touch me, Sarah.”

She was usually so calculated in her words when given the chance to be, tossing one-liners and performing like she'd get a score for balancing cleverness with rough sass, playfulness with the ever-present bold, earnest nature of the comments Sarah had come to enjoy. When she wanted to be mean, she could do it easily and precisely even if she was only seeking a reaction. When she got sloppy with her logic, she still made sure to add in a punchy phrase if just for effect. It was nice to hear her struggle to express herself like this, and if anything it made it more clear to Sarah that it wouldn't be as enjoyable if Bet laid out how she saw everything going. Sarah had already entertained her dreams and listened to her forthcoming fantasies. She was the mystery Bet was trying to solve, and if Sarah was only following her she wouldn't get to learn anything new at all which was clearly what she wanted. Bet would probably call it unfair if Sarah did exactly what she asked for. 

“You said you weren't going to tell me what to do, but you didn't even say please?" Sarah tsked, Bet's eyes widening slightly. "I’m taking my time, you'll just have to deal with it,” she said, leaning toward Bet’s mouth but not close enough for Bet to close the gap herself. 

She remembered the instances she’d tried to kiss her before clearly, how Bet would lean in with her lips pouted and wait for Sarah to do something, always feigning confidence that she’d get the contact she chased. She recalled the feeling of her lips at the side of her mouth, kissing but not where she wanted to be. Now, she was practically shaking with need, authentically desperate and stripped of the bravado she often wore as a shield. Sarah could look at her like this forever, Bet’s hand curling around her forearm in an additional silent plea. She couldn’t kiss her, not when she was looking up at her like this, like it wasn’t just lust. She was jealous of the mere idea of Sarah loving somebody in any capacity, and that was more dangerous than any amount of arguing. Bet made a small, needy sound, one that didn’t match her usually confident visage and reminded Sarah of each time she left her hanging, and Sarah drank it in like nectar. She stared at her lips, knowing that if she kissed her she wouldn’t be able to stop and it might ruin them both. She wanted to map out Bet's entire body and consume her in every other way, hardly able to resist moving her free hand between Bet’s legs. She didn’t need to resist, she remembered, letting her own desire to feel every inch of the woman she’d initially claimed she couldn't stand consume her instincts. She pressed her fingers against Bet through her denim shorts, surging forward and biting her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood as she noticed a particular heat even through the thick material. The whine Bet let out at the feeling of Sarah’s teeth was beautiful, vibrating onto her lips. Not a kiss, just pain to hold both of them over.

“Already getting wet for me?” Sarah mumbled once she pulled back and finally let go of Bet’s jaw, and Bet tucked her face away like Sarah wouldn't be able to rub against her again if she couldn't see her expression.

It was like something heavy had fallen from a high place and shattered as she felt Bet nod into her neck, her silent admission a solid confirmation that she was too desperate to continue the power struggle she’d started, too pliant now to make any further demands. Sarah knew that she would return with a vengeance of her own design when she was able to, but the high of having her like this was too good of a gift to waste. It was different from just giving Bet little tastes of what she wanted that she could twist into some sense of mischievous control in her own mind. She felt the moans leaving Bet’s throat, one palm sliding down the curve of her neck before groping at her breast. She could still taste her blood, metallic on her tongue. Bet whimpered, grinding into Sarah’s other hand, and Sarah wanted to tear her clothes off right then. She didn’t, though, because it felt incredible to keep her waiting. 

“Remember what you said you were gonna do when we first met?” Sarah asked, rubbing harder against her, pressing determinedly between Bet’s legs.

Bet mumbled something unintelligible when she lifted her head to look at Sarah again, pouting with her swollen lip and trying pitifully to keep her hips still. 

"You need to speak up, I know you can," Sarah said, shifting her hand to unbutton Bet's shorts easily. She tugged the zipper down, her expression expectant. "Don't get quiet on me now."

"I said I could take care of you," Bet said shakily as her shorts were shoved roughly down her hips. 

"And I thought it was adorable," Sarah said, running her fingertips along the waistband of Bet's underwear. "Because I knew I'd take you first, and you just kept proving it to me."

"You thought about it when we first met?" Bet asked quietly, Sarah's teasing making her squirm and paw at her. Sarah was unaffected, mostly, letting Bet pull at her shirt and scratch at her sides as she continued to feel her chest, not holding back the way she had on her doorstep. 

"Yeah, I thought about ruining you," Sarah said. "I want to do things to you that you couldn't repeat, even with that filthy, overconfident little mouth."

"Please," Bet truly whined, one of Sarah's latest favorite sounds even though she'd said the word so many times by now.

"Stay still," Sarah said, moving her hand lower to touch the slickened material of Bet's underwear. She could feel her twitch against her, and the soft, trembling noise she made caused Sarah's cheeks to become even hotter with arousal. 

She felt her slowly, pushing her middle finger against her entrance through the ruined cotton, nudging the heel of her hand against her clit, broadly circling her and spreading the mess she was making so she'd have to feel it everywhere. Every time Bet told her how wet she was, she imagined it, but nothing compared to feeling her arousal grow in real time. It was a trait she loved, how she didn't fake anything and was honest about the effect Sarah had on her, and now she didn't just have to take her word for it or feel the evidence through her own clothes. Bet was clinging to Sarah's shoulders now, looking down at where her hand was like she could will it to move faster with her gaze. Sarah continued at a leisurely pace, like she wasn't dying to explore her directly, and when Bet finally gave up and moved her hips into her touch, Sarah pulled her free hand back from where she'd been lazily fondling her chest and tapped her on the cheek. Not hard, but enough to startle her from her daze. 

"I told you to be still," Sarah said, Bet's underwear so soaked she could feel every detail of her through it.

"Again," Bet said, her voice strained as she lifted her chin and looked Sarah in the eyes. "Please," she added, "harder."

"I knew you liked getting hit," Sarah said, slapping her in earnest this time and cupping between her legs as she did. "Oh, it really gets you going, doesn't it?"

Bet moaned, somehow even wetter now, panting as she blinked up at Sarah. The look in her eyes was addictive, and Sarah didn't have to think before hitting her again. She let her grind against her hand now, taking in the needy sounds emerging between her breaths. 

"So pretty," Sarah murmured, admiring Bet's bitten lip and surely tingling cheek. She was missing wet eyelashes, but Sarah knew she could get her there, too. "I can’t wait to see your face while I take you, baby."

"Fuck," Bet whimpered, Sarah's eyebrows raising. 

"What? Is it because I called you pretty?" she asked, pushing Bet’s hair from her face and rubbing her thumb across her cheekbone. "Or because I called you baby?"

"Both," Bet said. 

"Aw, look who likes getting slapped in the face and called my pretty baby," Sarah teased, her tone vicious as she yanked at Bet's top. "You're so easy."

Bet let go of Sarah's shoulders and pulled the garment over her head quickly, tugging her bra off as well. 

"These, too," Sarah snapped the waistband of her underwear against her skin, pulling her other hand away and looking at her fingers. "Messy girl," she said, watching as Bet stepped out of the rest of her clothing. "Pick your panties up."

"Hm?" Bet mumbled. 

"Pick them up and put them in your fucking mouth," Sarah said, motioning at the pile of clothes. "I'm gonna show you how to shut up."

"But they're soaked," Bet complained. Sarah laughed, a rare, coarse sound. 

"Yeah, they are," Sarah agreed. "I could just stop here, leave you naked like this and go have a smoke--" 

"Okay, fine," Bet said, picking up her drenched underwear. She looked so embarrassed, apprehensive…it was new, like a heightened version of the bashfulness she’d shown after she made herself cum over the phone the first time, and Sarah found herself enjoying it much more than she probably should. She could protect her later, she just had to destroy her first.

Sarah watched her as she did as she was instructed to, then pulled her away from the wall by the back of her neck and guided her to her bed. The muffled sounds she made went straight to Sarah's core, and even though she was aching, all she wanted was to focus on Bet. 

"You talk so much, you probably needed a break," Sarah said as Bet laid back, her legs falling open as Sarah climbed over her. "So you can thank me later for being so nice when I didn’t have to.”

Sarah scooped an arm underneath her and around her waist, straddling one of her thighs so she could pin her in place with full access. She dipped her head, sucking hard at Bet's breast, biting down until she yelped around her gag. Her mouth found her nipple next, and the way Bet's body tried to twist beneath her made Sarah's stomach clench. She repeated the same treatment on the other side, marking her with her teeth and tasting the sweat on her skin between circling with her tongue. Her hand moved between Bet's legs and she shifted her attention back to her face, watching her carefully as she stroked over her entrance, brushing her clit intentionally before sliding her fingers through her wetness again. 

"I bet I could fit all of them," Sarah said, Bet's eyes cast down to her hand. "Or maybe just four, since you're so small," she reconsidered, and the sound Bet made caused Sarah's head to spin for a moment. "Did I say something else you liked?" 

Bet squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, Sarah still teasing her with her fingers. 

"Open your eyes and look at me, you pretty little thing," Sarah said, Bet's arms moving around her neck as she obeyed. “You like feeling tiny under me, it’s okay to admit it.”

Bet whimpered with another hurried nod and Sarah pushed into her without further warning, her four fingers stacked and her other arm tight around Bet's waist. She felt perfect underneath her, unable to squirm but straining, taut nearly everywhere. Bet moaned through the panties in her mouth and Sarah couldn't go slowly anymore, drawing her fingers back before slamming into her again, spreading her digits slightly once they were inside. She repeated this, over and over, watching Bet's face as she rocked back and forth beneath her.

"That's a good girl," Sarah gritted, fucking into her harder, watching her lashes flutter as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “I knew you could behave for more than a minute with me, you just had to try.”

She was enjoying the choked sounds Bet was making, but all of a sudden she craved hearing her more fully. She didn't want to let go of her waist, and she definitely wasn't going to stop stretching her out, so she leaned down, hovering over her lips. Bet was surprised, huffing out through her nose and trying to kiss her with her mouth full of fabric. Sarah chuckled and dodged her lips, able to catch her teeth on just enough material to pull the panties away when Bet’s mouth was open. She was still pumping her fingers quickly, dropping the arousal and saliva covered underwear somewhere beside them before looking down at Bet again. Her lips were still parted, high-pitched moans now fully audible and timed with each of Sarah's aggressive thrusts. 

"F- fuck, Sarah," Bet managed. "Oh my god."

Her voice was so shaky, so ragged, and Sarah wanted to push her even further. She shifted how she was kneeling, freeing Bet's thigh from between her own so she could press her knees apart. 

"Who knew you'd be flexible?" Sarah muttered, her own legs holding Bet's open as she pushed into her deeply, her fingers flat and side by side. 

She stayed still for a moment, feeling Bet clench and flutter around her, then unwrapped her arm from her waist to hold her down with her hand pressed hard against her lower abdomen. She could kneel and look down at her now, and it was a gorgeous view. She stared at her body hungrily as she curled her fingers, moving them deeper and feeling Bet stretch further as she neared her last knuckles. Bet opened and closed her mouth, a little squeak passing her lips as Sarah repeated the motion again, managing to slide just a fraction deeper. Sarah paused just for a moment so she could look down, Bet spread so obscenely around her, then she pulled back slightly so she could push into her again. 

"You’re gonna break me," Bet breathed, her hands clutching at the bedsheets as Sarah stared down at her. 

"Good, I want to," Sarah said, her thumb skimming over her clit lightly compared to how hard she was forcing so much of her hand into her. 

"I can’t, I-" Bet mumbled, Sarah practically drooling at the sight beneath her. 

“Shh, you can,” Sarah said. “You can take it, isn’t this what you wanted? Me fucking you like you’re all mine?” she asked. 

“God,” Bet cried out, Sarah’s thumb working with more focus now, her fingers curling again and again inside of her. 

She was making the sounds Sarah wanted to hear, whimpers she couldn’t control and moans that felt more like screams as her bottom lip trembled and her eyes grew watery. It was completely intoxicating to witness her unravel like this, and as Sarah watched her legs begin to shake she did feel incredibly powerful. She thought of what Bet said about worship, stilling her hand for a moment. 

“Yeah, baby? I’m your god?” Sarah asked, Bet’s eyes wide.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” Bet moaned in submission, clenching around Sarah. 

“Say it,” Sarah said as she started her clearly devastating motions again. “Say it while you cum for me, stupid girl.”

“You’re my god,” Bet said through her sharp, uncontrolled breaths, her hips snapping as Sarah moved her hand from her stomach and pinched one of her nipples.  

“Mm, there you go,” Sarah encouraged. “Doesn’t that feel good, angel?” 

“Sarah, my…my god, Sarah,” she cried, completing the picture Sarah had put together so carefully in her mind as tears rolled down her cheeks and she pulsed around the fingers still pressing inside her. 

Sarah didn’t dare look away as Bet fucked herself out on her hand, alternating between her sensitive nipples and wringing every sound she possibly could from her. She watched as Bet’s urgent movements slowed, running her hand down her side to rub circles against her hip. Bet’s sounds were much quieter as she came down and Sarah pulled out of her slowly, earning another breathy, strained noise. 

"Look at you, so many nice tears for me, huh?" Sarah asked, tender but indulgent.

She pressed her slick hand gently to her core, humming as Bet pushed weakly against the knees still holding her legs open. It was such a cute act, knowing Sarah still had control but unable to voice her sensitivity. Sarah couldn’t help herself, rubbing her softly and stroking through the wetness that coated her. Bet let out the quietest, most pitiful mewls Sarah had ever heard, squirming against her hand and still trying to close her legs. Sarah wanted to taste her, so she trailed her tongue lazily over her glistening fingers as she continued her soothing touch on her hip with her other hand. Bet let out a soft noise of contentment as she gazed at her, and that only encouraged Sarah to clean more of the wetness from her digits. 

“I want to kiss you,” Sarah said, looking down intently, definitely not at Bet’s face.

She moved back on the bed, holding Bet’s legs apart with her hands now. She was shaky, exerted, and so sensitive it seemed like even Sarah’s breath was making her twitch and whine. 

“Don’t you want a kiss, baby?” Sarah asked, already leaning to press her lips to Bet’s center before she could see if Bet had nodded. 

She kissed her like she would her mouth, slow and a little messy, her tongue dipping to taste all of her. Bet moved her hands to Sarah’s head, playing with her hair rather than trying to direct her. Sarah hummed against her, sucking at her clit and licking into her again. 

“Sarah, it’s too much,” Bet breathed. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Sarah asked, barely pulling away. 

“No,” Bet whimpered, tugging lightly at Sarah’s hair.

“Then be a good girl and shut up,” Sarah said, biting her inner thigh before returning to her core.

She kissed more gently now, not giving her enough to cum again, just feeling her against her mouth, savoring her taste and the way she was breathing like she needed to say a prayer. She wanted Bet to feel what it could be like to kiss her, to have her explore her mouth the same way she was exploring her now, but it was easy to get sidetracked and test her reactions, too. A bitten back noise as Sarah sucked a little too hard for her current state, a quiver of her legs when she pushed her tongue further inside, each tiny movement making her feel like she could devour her for hours. Despite trying to stop herself from giving Bet as much as she needed, she felt the fingers in her hair twisting and pulling, and Bet gasped and bucked toward her face. It wasn't exactly shocking that multiples were easy for her, with how excitable she was. Sarah eventually relented with a kiss below her navel, on her clit, her left thigh, and then her right. 

“Oh, are you finally all done?” she asked as Bet dropped her hands from Sarah's head and let out a long sigh. Sarah licked her lips, shifting from between Bet's legs but keeping a hand on her. She rubbed slowly up and down Bet’s thigh as she recollected herself, keeping her eyes on her face.

“You’re insane,” Bet finally said, her breathing more even as she propped herself up on her elbows, tucking her finally-shut knees toward Sarah who now sat beside her with one leg slung over the side of the bed. 

“Mhmm,” Sarah agreed, studying the sweat-stuck hair on Bet’s forehead and the exerted flush of her cheeks that spread all the way down to her chest.

“And you have so many clothes on,” Bet said, close enough to a complaint for Sarah to raise an eyebrow.

“Are you upset about that, baby?” Sarah asked, reaching to swipe at the tears on her cheeks with her thumb. 

“Yeah,” Bet said, her voice still shaky. 

“Okay,” Sarah said, standing up and pulling her shirt off over her head. “You sure you’re not too tired?”

“I need to touch you, it doesn’t matter if I’m tired,” Bet said, watching with widened eyes as Sarah took off her bra. “Fuck.”

“What?” Sarah asked, undoing her belt. 

“You’re amazing,” Bet murmured, her eyes flagrantly locked on her chest. “Please, hurry.”

“Cute,” Sarah said, finishing undressing and standing in front of Bet with her hands on her hips. “You’re so polite now, aren’t you?” 

“I’m scared you won’t let me have what I want if I tell you what to do,” Bet said, and Sarah reached to cup her cheek as she sat up with her legs tucked beneath her. 

“You can always try,” Sarah said, loving the way Bet looked up at her like she held the world in her hands.

“Lay down on your back,” Bet said, gasping quietly as Sarah smacked her blushing face just hard enough to make it sting again before moving to the other side of the bed. 

Bet crawled on top of her once she was settled, straddling her carefully. Sarah could tell she was pushing past the fact her legs were still strained and trembling, and she bit back a moan as her still soaked core met Sarah’s skin. 

“Someone’s probably all sore,” Sarah said, moving her hands to Bet’s hips, pushing her down harder against her lower abdomen. 

“I like it, it’ll hurt even more tomorrow,” Bet said, her hands immediately on Sarah’s breasts. “Proves it was real and not just in my dreams. Maybe you can kiss it better again then, just in case.” 

Sarah hummed at the sensation of her touch, the explorative way she felt her simultaneously sweet and commanding. Her thumbs rubbed against her nipples and Sarah let out a breath, not used to much intimate attention lately besides letting women eat her out. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, but it was vulnerable and she didn’t tend to enjoy being in that position. Bet was different from everyone she’d ever known, though, and watching her cry so beautifully made her want to return some of that control she’d claimed to have such a good handle on. Not all of it, but enough to trust that it would be worth it to eschew her ‘head only’ rule this time.  

“You’re so beautiful,” Bet murmured, still palming Sarah’s breasts as she leaned down to kiss her neck with urgency despite her harshly bitten lip. 

Sarah let her kiss and lick over her skin, noticing how she squeezed her breasts more firmly when Sarah gasped. She seemed happy to be on top of her, grinding slightly against Sarah’s stomach and her legs firmly bracketing her hips. Bet moaned softly, biting her neck before pulling back messily. She shifted, resting an elbow beside Sarah’s head and reaching her other hand down between her legs, grinding against her own arm as a result.

“Bend your knees more so I can feel you,” Bet said, her fingertips stroking over Sarah’s curls. 

Sarah did, her hands moving up to Bet’s waist and squeezing lightly. 

“Oh, wow,” Bet said as her fingers finally reached Sarah’s wetness, delving eagerly around her entrance. “All this, for me?” Bet murmured. 

Sarah’s jaw was clenched, so she just nodded in response. The combination of Bet’s bare chest pressed to hers and the way her fingers were so firm but precise did something to her she couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around. She was teasing at going inside, and Sarah didn’t want to ask for it, but right now it was all she craved.

“So fucking excited because you hit me in the face and called me stupid, right?” Bet coaxed, her fingers barely dipping into her before resuming slow circles, like she was just playing. “You’re dripping like this from stretching my pussy until I cried and licking me up after.”

Sarah groaned, holding Bet’s waist tighter as she looked up at her face. 

“You felt so good on my fingers I couldn’t help it. On my tongue, too,” Sarah said, clenching her teeth together once more. 

“Don’t hide, Sarah,” Bet said, her voice husky as she pushed into her again, further than her prior teasing. “I want to hear you, too.”

“I’m not loud,” Sarah said, and Bet slid her two fingers deeper like she was trying to catch her in a lie.

“That’s okay,” Bet said, beginning a slow pace with her movements. “I can tell you don’t let anyone touch you like this, just try to relax so I can make you feel good.”

Sarah acquiesced, letting out a deep breath as Bet fucked her slowly. She wasn’t aggressive like Sarah had been, but she smiled slightly like she was winning a prize each time Sarah let a pleased noise leave her mouth.

“I don’t think you’ll take long,” Bet murmured, looking down at Sarah like a meal. “You want your angel to do something dirty before I make you cum?” 

“Mhmm,” Sarah nodded, and Bet pumped her fingers a bit faster, a wicked look in her eyes.

“Open your mouth,” Bet said. 

Sarah parted her lips, distracted by how well Bet was working with her fingers.

“Wider,” Bet encouraged. “Since you won’t kiss me, you get this instead.”

Sarah opened her mouth further, realizing what Bet intended to do. Maybe it was payback for the various ways Sarah had embarrassed her, maybe it was something she’d been wanting for other reasons, but as Bet spit into her mouth she closed her lips instantly like it was a drink she was waiting for. The way it had dripped down was explicit, Bet’s pupils incredibly wide and her expression one of awe and lust. She grinned slightly as Sarah swallowed, still moving her fingers inside her. 

“Yummy, right?” Bet teased, her thumb finally pressing against Sarah’s clit. 

Sarah groaned quietly, her mind fuzzy as she dug harder into Bet’s waist with her fingertips.

“You don’t have to say it, I know you liked it,” Bet said, pressing a wet kiss to her jaw as she quickened the movements of her hand, her hips moving in time with her thrusts. 

Her thumb worked in quick, tight circles, her thrusts becoming more shallow as Sarah bucked slightly against her touch. She was focused, her own occasional moans replacing her confident words as Sarah climbed closer to the edge. Her orgasm wasn’t theatrical, coming on in the form of a slow hum and a snapping release, but Bet looked at her like she was witnessing something holy as Sarah finally moaned truthfully from the back of her throat. She bore down on the fingers inside her as Bet stilled her own hips before pulling out of her to rub quickly with a slippery, doting hand. 

“Oh, Sarah,” Bet murmured, dropping kisses onto her collarbone as her hand slowed, Sarah panting beneath her. “I’m lucky, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Sarah said through offbeat breaths. 

Bet untangled her arm, still straddling Sarah as she laid on her with her head tucked under her chin. Sarah tried not to think about the fact it had been years since she had felt like this, naked and relaxed with a girl she actually felt something for on top of her. She didn’t have the immediate urge to leave, or to say something callous to avoid cuddling. She just held Bet, running a hand up and down her spine with her other arm wrapped around her waist despite how sweat-sticky they both were. She knew they would need to get up eventually, but she wasn’t sure what would happen after that. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, and despite Bet’s forwardness she couldn’t be completely certain she actually wanted more than vindication in her attempts to go to bed with someone who was almost impossible to get. Maybe it was genuinely just for a thrill and to work out some emotions she couldn’t deal with in a way that wasn’t messy, especially after her reaction to Sarah’s past, but nothing was sure. She just appreciated the feeling of Bet's skin on hers, unsure what would become of them now that she'd broken all but one rule.

Chapter Text

“It feels good when you hold me,” Bet mumbled into Sarah’s collarbone after a comfortable quietness, her heartbeat still quick against Sarah's skin. She sounded spent, and much too cute for what they’d just done. “I’m scared of you leaving.” 

Sarah was thankful for Bet’s boldness when it came to her feelings; maybe it would make it easier to proceed if she didn’t have to be in charge of the part she’d grown so averse to. She liked control, but there was a difference between taking the lead because she enjoyed it and being forced to make the calls so the other party wouldn't have to claim any responsibility if things went wrong. In the past, the wrongness seemed inevitable. Even with her ex-girlfriend, Sarah let herself end up in a villain's role just because there was less friction when she could be blamed time and time again for being exactly who she’d always said she was. She wanted to try, though, at least enough to say what she actually thought instead of outright rejecting the possibility of having more moments like this with Bet. She didn’t know if her decision to try was more for herself or if it was for Bet’s sake, and maybe that was part of the dilemma. She knew what Bet wanted, and that was more of her more of the time, but it wasn’t that simple. 

“I’m scared of staying,” Sarah admitted, and the words felt strange to say aloud. “I need you to know this isn’t what I do, and I’m not just saying that to keep you desperate.”

“I know,” Bet said. “I don’t mind if we don't talk about it 'til later, my brain’s only half-working anyway,” she added. “Just…don’t run away from me before I can figure out how to make you mine for real.”

“I know you like it a lot when I promise things,” Sarah said. “But I can’t make a promise right now.” 

“I don’t care,” Bet said, the hand she’d rested on Sarah’s shoulder holding more surely like she could make Sarah stay just with her touch. In a way, it worked. “I mean, I do, a lot, but I just want you to be here.”

“I’m here tonight,” Sarah said, turning to press her lips to Bet’s forehead. “And I think I want to keep you safe.”

“You don’t have to say that just because we had sex,” Bet said, and she almost sounded embarrassed. “I've been paying attention, you told me you won’t be nice and you can’t give me everything I want.”

“You didn’t stop wanting me, though, and that’s why I think you’re dumb,” Sarah said. “But I’m being honest right now, and I don’t think I can leave you alone. I can’t let someone else hurt you, baby. Just me, like I said at the bar.”

“Do you mean it?” Bet asked, Sarah’s fingers still dancing languidly up and down her back. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said. “And you have to go away if it’s too much.”

“I think I can handle it,” Bet said, sighing. “I know I want to. You’re not gonna go all soft on me, though, right?”

“No, never,” Sarah said, her brows raising as Bet propped herself to look down at her. 

“I want to shower,” Bet said. “Come with me?”

“Sure, but I need a drink,” Sarah said.

“Bring the bottle to the bathroom, then,” Bet said. “Are you gonna sleep over?”

“One thing at a time,” Sarah said, smacking Bet’s ass lightly before she climbed off of her. 

Bet giggled, standing up and reaching her arms above her head to stretch.

“Fuck, it feels like I went to CrossFit,” she said, smiling down at Sarah. “See you in there?”

“Yep, just a minute,” Sarah said, sitting up. 

This was the moment Sarah would usually take the opportunity to disappear. It would be so simple to get dressed, slip out, call a cab and head home without another word, drink herself senseless, and pretend this was another shallow connection that wouldn’t mean anything within a week. She could act like Bet's voice wasn't echoing in her head, and like the scent of her wasn't trapped in her memory like smoke from a forest fire she didn't want to make it out of alive. She could change her phone number, find a new bar to frequent, never see Bet again and let her wonder about her forever. She figured Bet would be fine if she did so, maybe better off even if it took a while, but she couldn’t do it. Bet deserved more than that, and Sarah wanted more than that even if she couldn't say it entirely. Even in all the cruel callousness she’d come to hold as an external piece of herself, Sarah couldn’t abandon her after barely seeing what she could truly give if she tried even a little bit. It was funny that Bet had already asked if she was going to make a complete pivot from her personality now as though she’d be disappointed if that were true, because that was almost always the expectation after sex. Women thought that her coldness was something she put on for fun to attract partners who liked danger, and that she’d suddenly turn sweet and nurturing and easy to know once they slept together, but Bet didn’t seem to have any interest in changing the parts of her that kept her coming back and kept her trying so hard it was painful to watch. She got upset and took things that weren't her business into her own hands, but it just made her more determined to sink her teeth into Sarah and keep her where she wanted her. Sarah didn't even fully believe what she told herself might be true, that they could untangle from each other at all. All of this weighed on her mind in an intense but strangely refreshing way as she grabbed the vodka bottle and her glass from Bet’s table, still mystified and only slightly concerned by the fact that she had a mini bar in her bedroom.

“You took forever, were you thinking about leaving me?” Bet asked casually as Sarah entered the bathroom, like the ruminations she’d endured were common and obvious. Maybe they were, and she was the strange one for finding it harder than it had to be.

“Sort of,” Sarah said, testing her ability to continue more honestly as she poured her drink. Bet wasn’t in the shower yet, clearly preferring the water excruciatingly hot as steam swirled in the air and she turned to face Sarah. 

“Why didn’t you?” Bet asked, reaching to swig straight from the bottle as Sarah pulled from her glass. “Even if you didn’t want to sneak out, I could call you another car. I’m not evil enough to trap you here.”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to keep being around you,” Sarah said. 

“Even though I was being a cunt?” Bet asked. “I feel like I didn’t earn all the nice things you did to me. I thought you should be more angry because I deserved it, but I was glad you weren’t too upset to fuck me. Maybe it made you fuck me better.” 

“And I like that about you,” Sarah said. “That you’re such a pain and you know it, and you want someone to fuck you like they’re mad at you.”

“That’s just gonna make me want to get you mad again, though,” Bet said. 

“I’m sure you will,” Sarah said. “But you took me so well this time, I can at least help you wash off. You’re filthy, and you probably need a hand.”

“Mm, doesn’t sound bad,” Bet said, stepping into the shower. “It’s your fault I made such a mess, anyway.”

Sarah joined her under the water, and they didn’t talk any more. Sarah just traced her hands over Bet’s skin, ran her fingers through her hair, let Bet press kisses against her chest between her own tender explorations. Bet handed her a loofah, turning so her back faced her, and Sarah placed a hand on her hip to steady her as she scrubbed her skin. It didn’t feel completely sexual now, but it was intimate, and Sarah noticed how relaxed Bet seemed as she rinsed off. Sarah wasn’t at the point of wishing for Bet to do the same for her, but she didn’t mind Bet watching as she cleaned herself, her eyes so curious and intentional despite how fatigued she’d seemed when she got out of bed. Sarah found Bet too mesmerizing, dripping wet and sporting marks on her skin that already looked like they belonged there as she traced them with her fingers. Bet wasn’t shy about letting her eyes settle where she wanted to look, and Sarah couldn't help but enjoy how she kept getting distracted by her chest. When Bet moved to press her lips against Sarah’s skin she held the back of her head gently, exhaling slowly as Bet licked water from her breast. She didn’t do anything further, and it felt sweet rather than seductive as Bet scattered soft kisses before pulling away. They shifted positions several times as far as who was under the water’s stream, moving around each other with unusually light touches and questioning looks, and by the time Bet shut off the water Sarah was alarmed by how badly she wanted to hold Bet close to her again.

“I'm sure the rest of your drink is, like, your favorite temperature now,” Bet said, smiling up at Sarah as she stood on her toes and wrapped an aggressively soft towel around her shoulders before grabbing one for herself.

“Back to being cheeky?” Sarah asked, drying herself off. 

“A little, but I want to cuddle more,” Bet said easily, like they hadn’t surpassed several new levels of closeness in a couple of hours. Sarah wondered what it felt like to be unafraid of wanting. “Is that allowed?”

“Needy girl,” Sarah said, securing her towel around herself so she could finish the vodka in her glass. She couldn’t deny her when she asked like that. “You want to sit on the couch, or back in bed?” 

“Couch,” Bet said, going about whatever routine it was that kept her hair so soft and her skin glowing in spite of her less than stellar habits. “Will you still call me cute names when we have clothes on again, or do I lose my privileges?”

“Depends. Your reactions make it pretty appealing, so we’ll see,” Sarah said, and she meant it. The way Bet dissolved like wet cotton candy when she did something as simple as calling her something affectionate was intoxicating. “I learned a lot about what you like, but it wasn’t too hard to guess.”

“You have a way with words, I’m embarrassed just thinking about it all,” Bet said, smiling at her in the mirror, fresh and clean and all too mischievous. “And I don’t get embarrassed easily, you’re just really good at making me blush.” 

Bet went back to applying her skincare and Sarah didn’t have anything against observing her quietly, taking note of how she was still careful and measured in certain ways despite diverting from so many of her usual performances tonight. She watched her finish up, glad to be her private audience, and let Bet lead the way back into her bedroom.

“Will you be offended if I give you something kind of ridiculous to wear?” Bet asked. 

“No,” Sarah said, watching Bet rummage through a drawer with her towel practically swallowing her. “But I might wonder about your type if you have a collection of shit from someone with the same fashion sense as me.”

“Here,” Bet tossed a t-shirt at her, then a pair of sweats. 

“Are these from your show?” Sarah asked with a chuckle as she looked at the shirt that displayed a logo with the title above a small drawing that looked like a cartoonish rendition of Bet. It was saccharine in its style, and it made her wonder what Bet was like on her show if this was how she was seen by her audience. She knew she shouldn’t watch it, and she truly didn’t want to, but part of her itched to know what she was like before she started cracking apart and spilling the parts of herself that curled around Sarah like something barbed and hungry. 

“Yep, I took a ton of shit when I left,” Bet said. “They charged, like, $60 for the shirt alone.”

“That’s insane,” Sarah said, pulling the sweats on first before putting on the shirt. "A t-shirt should be five bucks."

“The pants were even more, I guess that’s how they managed to pay me so much,” Bet joked. “You can keep them, burn them, whatever. They’re comfy, though.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said, watching as Bet changed into loose boxers and a tank top. 

“My legs still feel like jelly,” Bet said, taking Sarah’s hand to pull her along and guide her to the couch in the living room. 

“That was my goal, among other things,” Sarah said, sitting down and opening her arms. 

Bet climbed sideways onto her lap, humming lightly as Sarah held her around her waist with her other hand on her thigh. 

“I wish I didn’t like how you feel in my lap so much,” Sarah said. 

“Why? I wanna be here,” Bet said. 

“It just keeps happening,” Sarah said. “And every time, it makes me think something crazy.”

“Like what?” Bet asked, playing with the sleeve of Sarah’s borrowed shirt. 

“That I think you feel good on me, and you look good on me, and I like having you on me so I know you’re not with someone else,” Sarah said.

“Did you really get jealous when I fucked that girl?” Bet asked, perked up by the possibility.

“I don’t think I was jealous of her, but it annoyed the shit out of me,” Sarah said. “You’re obsessed with me, I like when it shows.”

“Well, you rejected me constantly and then got me to do things that are so much hotter than just hooking up at a bar…of course I’m obsessed,” Bet said. “I wouldn’t mind if you were jealous, though.”

“I’m not jealous, but it would have been another story if she was the one bending you over,” Sarah said. “I’m territorial, and I like how I can do anything to you and you love it every time.”

Bet curled into her more snugly, and Sarah swore she felt a smile against her chest.

“I love everything you do to me because it means you want something,” Bet said, Sarah’s hand dragging up and down her leg. "And want me, even if you said you didn't."

“Are you still scared?” Sarah asked. 

“A little,” Bet said. “But I like your attention, so it doesn’t matter much to me how we got here. When you said you want to keep me safe it made me feel like…I don't know, like I didn’t need anything else.”

“That means something’s wrong with you,” Sarah said, kissing near Bet's temple. "If you like when I'm mean, and when I hurt you, and when I want to keep you away from anyone else…It's a rough combination." 

"I'm fine with that," Bet said. "I'd rather have you care about me wrong than not care at all."

"It's definitely not right, the way I care," Sarah said. 

“Do you really think I'm an angel?" Bet asked.

"Yeah, but maybe you fell," Sarah said. 

"Hm, I like that," Bet said, sighing. "Fallen angel."

"Figures," Sarah said. "Are you getting tired?"

"I don't know," Bet said. "I'm just happy. And I don't want to go to bed in case you leave before I wake up."

Bet had been clingy from the moment they met, but Sarah still half-expected her to start pretending she didn't want to be glued to Sarah's side now that she’d been in such a gloriously vulnerable position. Maybe Sarah was just projecting the way she didn't want to feel too attached onto someone who seemed to be craving attachment like she was completely starved for it. It appeared so simple for Bet to express what she wanted, but Sarah could tell she still wasn't saying everything on her mind. She didn't know if that should stress her out more or make her feel relieved.

“Then don’t fall asleep, and you don’t have to worry,” Sarah said. “But I hope I tired you out, or I’m not gonna be able to keep up with you.”

“Oh, you worked me over for sure,” Bet said. “But I think I'm addicted to you, I’ll probably want more before I can even walk properly.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Sarah said. 

“You’re sick,” Bet said. 

“You love it, that’s worse,” Sarah countered. 

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Bet said. 

“I could figure it out, though. I'm clearly good at that when it comes to you. It’s fun to get you to admit to what you like, too,” Sarah said. “You get so shy about the fact that you want me to fuck you like a sweet little thing I’m trying to ruin.”

“It’s so disgusting how I’m fucking blushing again, stop it,” Bet said. “And I don’t need you to think I’m sweet.”

“When you say stop, it just makes me want to do it more,” Sarah said. 

“That’s problematic,” Bet said. 

“Right, and I’m sure you’re so upset,” Sarah said. 

“You like seeing me cry, you probably want me to be upset,” Bet said, pressing her lips to Sarah’s jaw. 

“If you weren’t crying by the time you came, I was gonna hit you again,” Sarah said. “So, yeah, I like it when I’m causing it and you’re soaking wet.” 

“It’s like you’re trying for another round,” Bet said, shifting in her lap. 

“Just keeping you awake,” Sarah said, patting her thigh. “And bullying you.”

“You’re actually a huge bully, it’s really hot,” Bet said. 

“I think you need it, you’re too cocky,” Sarah said. “And I’m not gonna let up, if anything I’ll push you harder.”

“What, were you holding back or something?” Bet said. 

“Sort of, just to make sure you weren’t all talk,” Sarah said. “But now I know you can handle more.” 

“I don’t think I’m gonna survive you,” Bet said. 

“I guess we’ll see,” Sarah said. “You were adorable when you were fucking me, though. I think I could survive that again, easily.”

“Oh, shut up,” Bet said. “You liked it.”

“I did, but that doesn’t make it less adorable,” Sarah said. “You looked pretty on top of me, too.”

“Did I?” Bet asked. “And under you?”

“Very pretty under me, didn’t I tell you that?” Sarah asked. 

“Mhmm, you did,” Bet murmured. “After you bit me and gave me a fat lip.”

“Aw, does it hurt?” Sarah rubbed her side as she asked, only half-sarcastic.

“Of course it does,” Bet said, a smile in her voice like Sarah had bought her a dozen roses. 

“A kiss doesn’t last like that,” Sarah said.

“A kiss from you would,” Bet said. 

“I gave you plenty,” Sarah murmured. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Bet said. “But you know that.”

“I do,” Sarah nodded. 

“You're mean," Bet sighed. 

"Right, but I could be a lot meaner," Sarah said.

"You should be," Bet yawned, nestling into Sarah’s neck. 

“I knew you were tired,” Sarah said.

“Come sleep with me,” Bet demanded. “You can leave if you want, but at least come to bed.”

“You just want to get tucked in,” Sarah said. 

“No, I want you to spoon me,” Bet murmured. 

“And am I carrying you back to your room?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah,” Bet said, her arms wrapped around her neck. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sarah said, already readjusting to scoop beneath Bet’s knees with one arm still around her waist. 

She carried her to her bedroom easily, laying her down on the bed and gazing at her as she stretched with another yawn.

“You said you don’t usually wear much to sleep, hm?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, I’m just being lazy,” Bet said, sitting up after a moment to undress. 

Sarah watched her, waiting until she was naked again before crawling into bed with her. 

“I just wanted you ready in case I feel like touching you in the morning,” Sarah said, the only true confirmation she gave that she didn't intend to sneak away in the middle of the night. She pulled Bet against her with an arm over her waist, breathing in the clean scent of her shampoo. It was odd to hold her like this, in some sort of pure state that felt opposite to how she usually saw her with her strategic outfits and a cigarette as an accessory. Her other arm made a good pillow for Bet, based on how she rearranged herself to lay on it. 

“I’m gonna be sore,” Bet murmured, her back arching slightly. 

“Then maybe I’ll be gentle,” Sarah said, pressing her lips to Bet’s shoulder. 

“Mm, whatever you want. Night, babe,” Bet said, pressed tightly to Sarah like a magnet as she drifted off. 

The quiet sound of Bet’s breathing and the feeling of her warmth was soothing, and the big, luxurious bed probably helped Sarah relax, too. She hadn’t spooned someone to sleep in a long time, and the part of her that had so candidly admitted she felt protective of Bet was satisfied in some way by holding her while she slept soundly. She stayed awake until she physically couldn’t, a bare, disastrous angel safe in her arms. Sarah woke up in the morning with a start as she tended to, immediately aware of Bet squirming against her. She was breathing shakily, small noises slipping through some of her exhales. Sarah moved the arm still draped over her, stroking gently across Bet’s stomach. Bet arched her back, much too close and mumbling sleepily.  

“What’s that, baby?” Sarah murmured, her hand dipping just slightly. 

"Sarah," Bet said, her voice a bit clearer now. "Thought I was still dreaming."

"Yeah?" Sarah asked, her fingertips rubbing gently over Bet's soft, trimmed hair. "You have a nice dream about me again?"

"Mhmm," Bet hummed, much too easy for Sarah to move as she sat up in bed. 

Sarah brought Bet along with her, sitting against the headboard with Bet tucked between her legs and lying back on her chest. She resumed teasing her lightly with her other arm around her middle, Bet's knees bent and her eyes still closed when Sarah peeked down at her face. When Sarah ran her fingers a bit further between her legs, she squeezed Bet tighter. 

"You don't have to do anything, just keep resting," Sarah said, not shocked that Bet was unbelievably horny all the time if this was how wet she ended up first thing in the morning. 

As tempting as it was to be cruel and truly wake Bet up with a reminder of what had her so tired in the first place, Sarah opted to rub her slowly and gently, holding her still and listening to each tiny sigh that left her mouth. 

"Feels good," Bet whispered, grinding her hips slightly. 

Sarah kept going, circling her clit with her fingers and loosening her hold on her so she could palm one of her breasts. She was so warm, and she fit nicely everywhere Sarah wanted her to. 

"Spoiled, getting to cum right when you wake up," Sarah said, quickening her fingers as she felt Bet tensing against her. It was nice to catch her before she had the time to become the vibrating ball of energy that was usually leaping at Sarah's jugular, in a state she'd only gotten to experience over the phone until now. 

"Not spoiled," Bet said, moaning quietly. "You started it."

"You were whining for me in your sleep, I'm just being helpful," Sarah said, rubbing a thumb over her nipple and pressing just a fraction harder with her fingers. 

"I need more," Bet whispered, pushing herself into Sarah's hand.

"Too bad," Sarah said, continuing at an intentionally slow, focused pace. 

"Sarah," Bet pouted, squirming and causing Sarah to tighten her hold around her waist again. 

"If you're going to complain, I'll stop," Sarah said. "You can have more later, I want you to be a good girl for me first."

Bet whimpered but didn't protest any more, letting Sarah hold her still and touch her like she didn't actually care whether she could cum or not. Sarah didn’t keep her rhythm once she got lost in just exploring Bet, enjoying not only how she felt along her fingertips but how she strained against the hold on her waist as she grew more frustrated. It sounded like she was holding back the noises she wanted to make, though, and Sarah pinched her clit lightly to check if she was right. Bet exhaled sharply, tossing her head against Sarah’s shoulder.

“Are you trying to be quiet because you’re mad at me?” Sarah asked, circling her entrance slowly. “And you know I like your sounds?” 

“Mm-mm,” Bet shook her head, her hands moving to Sarah’s thighs like she needed something sturdy to hold on to. 

“Then why can’t I hear you?” Sarah asked, pressing inside just enough for Bet to still for a moment.

Bet huffed quietly, and Sarah pushed her finger deeper. 

“Baby, it’s gonna hurt if you don’t just let me keep touching you how I want,” Sarah said. “Say something, now.” 

“No,” Bet mumbled. 

“Bet,” Sarah warned.

“No, I want more,” Bet said quietly. 

“You’re a brat,” Sarah said. “A dumb one, too.”

Sarah pulled her finger out slowly, her arm tense as she held Bet against her as tightly as she could. 

“I was being so nice to you,” Sarah said, drawing her hand back before bringing it down against Bet’s wet center hard enough to make her jolt against her. She was so stubborn, swallowing the noise she would have made. “You would have had such a good morning, getting to cum all sleepy in my lap first thing,” she brought her hand down again. “You’d better stop being quiet now, I know you can’t bite your lip without making it bleed again.”

Bet finally moaned, her voice scratchy and tired. 

“There she is,” Sarah said, swatting at Bet’s clit once more before starting to rub her again. 

“Ow, Sarah,” Bet whined, much too wet against Sarah’s fingers when she slipped down to tease her entrance once more.

“I told you,” Sarah said, pressing two fingers into her. 

Bet whimpered, her hips flexing. Sarah pumped in and out of her slowly, pulling more strained, pitiful noises from her mouth. She withdrew her fingers to meet Bet’s clit again when she sounded like she was struggling to get a decent breath.

“Cum for me, it’s okay,” Sarah said. “Let me hear you.”

Sarah made the circles she drew with her fingers tighter and faster again, kissing the side of Bet's head as she fell into a trembling orgasm and high pitched noises finally filled the air. Sarah stroked over her as Bet flinched slightly, her fingertips against her opening but not going inside again.

"Morning," Bet murmured as Sarah drew her hand away, still holding her close. “Sorry I was bad.”

“Don’t lie, you wanted to be," Sarah said, releasing her hold as Bet shifted to lay her cheek on her chest. 

“I didn’t know what you were gonna do, I just wanted to see,” Bet said, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, Sarah.”

“All that drama because you wouldn’t just let me go slow,” Sarah said. “You’re lucky you still got to finish.”

"I still think you started it," Bet said, sighing. "I didn’t mean to wake you, though."

"Oh, I woke up on my own," Sarah said. "Just got lucky with my timing. Are you gonna blame your attitude on your dream, or were you being stubborn for fun?” 

“I'm tired,” Bet said, shrugging her shoulders. “And it felt really good, I was impatient.”

“Well, you got what you wanted,” Sarah said. 

“Yeah, and if we don’t get out of bed soon I’m gonna want more and more until I can’t move,” Bet said, extracting herself from between Sarah’s legs. 

Sarah watched her, the bruises she’d left on her chest contrasting nicely with her skin. She knew that once she got out of Bet’s bed it would only be a short matter of time before she found a way to leave, so she dragged it out until Bet re-dressed in her comfortable clothes from the night before and went to use the restroom. Sarah got up and stretched, glancing in Bet’s mirror. She didn’t quite seem like herself, but she didn’t hate it. 

“You have to say bye before you go,” Bet called, the sink running. 

“I know,” Sarah responded. 

She joined her to wash her own hands, Bet immediately wrapping her arms around Sarah’s waist and squeezing her tightly. 

“Are you sure you don’t want coffee or something before you leave?” she mumbled.

“I should probably just go. I can get my own ride, it’s fine,” Sarah said. 

“Let me get it,” Bet said. “Your phone’s probably dead anyway, it’s been laying on the floor since last night.” 

“Right,” Sarah said, maneuvering around Bet's tight hug to shut off the water.

She let Bet throw her discarded clothes into some kind of reusable tote bag before they left the bedroom, and Sarah’s phone was in fact dead. 

“I would offer you a charger, but your shit is ancient,” Bet said, sighing like there was something else she had to say.

“What’re you thinking about?” Sarah asked. 

“Everything,” Bet said. “Are you actually gonna see me again, or were you just saying what I wanted to hear last night? It’s fine if you were, I just…I don’t know, it didn’t sound like you were lying.”

“I’ll see you again,” Sarah said, cupping Bet’s cheek and rubbing her thumb over her hurt lip. “I wasn’t lying, I just can’t stay and spend the day here.”

“Are we gonna talk about it more?” Bet asked. 

“Another time,” Sarah said, tapping her thumb lightly. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” Bet said, nodding when Sarah dropped her hand. Sarah tried to ignore how worried she seemed. “I’m happy you slept over.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Sarah said, clearing her throat. 

“We should get dinner,” Bet blurted, blinking in surprise at herself. 

“What, like tonight?” Sarah asked. 

“I don’t know, just sometime,” Bet said, looking away from Sarah’s eyes. “It’s just kind of, like, super fucking boring to eat alone all the time, and I didn’t think you’d want to come over to eat food I cooked-“

Sarah narrowed her eyes as Bet seemed to trip over her own tongue.

“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” Sarah asked.

“No! Not, like…well, kind of, maybe,” Bet said. “Just think about it.”

“I’ll go,” Sarah shrugged. Watching Bet try to backtrack so ineffectively was getting torturous, anyway. “It’s not like you’re gonna stop asking until I say yes. And you counted brunch as a date against my will, anyway. You could have just trapped me into another one.” 

“Okay. Maybe not tonight, but dinner soon,” Bet said with a nod, her cheeks flushed. “I’m gonna sit on a bag of frozen peas or something and recover in the meantime.” 

“Poor girl,” Sarah said. “I’d say sorry, but I think you’re really happy about it.”

“I don’t think you’d say sorry either way,” Bet said. “But, yeah, I’m happy.” 

“Now I know I can keep you in a good mood if I’m strict enough,” Sarah said. 

“Maybe you’re onto something about me needing help behaving,” Bet said. “But I’m still gonna fight.”

“Of course you are, because you have to. How else can I know if I won?” Sarah asked. 

“If I’m the prize, you have me already,” Bet said. “Any way you want.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, baby,” Sarah said.

“I don’t care, I’m just being honest with you,” Bet said. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sarah said. “Let me know when dinner is gonna be, I think I hear the car.”

“Okay,” Bet said, walking Sarah outside. “You sure I can’t have a kiss goodbye?”

Sarah pulled Bet into her with her free arm, kissing the top of her head.

“There you go, angel,” Sarah said. “Try not to go crazy before I see you again, alright?”

“No promises,” Bet said. “Bye, Sarah. You should text me when you charge your phone.”

“I might,” Sarah said, getting into the car. 

Bet waved as the driver pulled away from her house, and Sarah sighed.

“How’s your morning?” the driver asked. 

“Good, yours?” Sarah responded.

“Great, I’m always down to do rides for that girl. Best tipper in this whole city,” he said. “My buddy and I keep telling her she can just call under the table so she doesn’t have to pay all the extra fees since she only books the luxury cars and there aren’t many around here, but she likes being able to track everything.”

“Sounds like her,” Sarah said. 

The rest of the ride was quiet, Sarah’s thoughts loud enough to fill out the space. The fear she felt about getting too close to Bet was flush against something else that made her chest tighten and her stomach twist, and trying to pry the two apart seemed impossible. In contrast, some things were way too easy with her, and she didn’t know how to continue convincing herself that was a bad thing. It wasn’t like she could deny how surreal she was in bed, either, which didn’t aid in trying to talk herself out of letting things continue careening down the path they were on. It was one thing to prevent herself from fulfilling some sort of fantasy, but now she knew exactly what she’d surely miss if she never got to have her again. Bet was clearly smitten, which would probably only make her more persistent and enthusiastic now that she knew what Sarah could do, too. When she was back home with her phone charging and a definitely-appropriate morning drink in her hand, Sarah decided to text Cali.

Sarah: I finally did something about the girl

C: ok well dont phrase it like tht. maybe “finally had sex with my girlfriend”?

Sarah: she is not my girlfriend. At all.

C: how was it?

Sarah: She called me her god. I made her say it, but still.

C: oh so shes like a F R E A K

Sarah: yes. Very much so. 

C: did u kiss her? 

Sarah: no. But she spit in my mouth and we showered together after I fucked her to tears. I slept over, too.

C: I mean this w full offense: what the hell sar

C: u make no sense to me and I kind of feel bad for ur mystery gf which is weird bc I’m lowkey jealous u were doing unholy things to this woman. I feel like she got to fuck u back too and thats why ur not actually saying details

C: (also im joking abt being jealous she sounds like she would end me and I barely know anything abt her)

Sarah: she said she’s happy. She would definitely kill you. I just don’t know what to do now, she wants to go to dinner.

C: …so u have earth shattering sex w someone u care abt and u need advice on going to dinner?

Sarah: she kept making comments about it being a date when we went out to eat together before but it’s different now. I don’t want to make it seem more serious than it is.

C: its sounding at least a little serious tho. if ur sleeping with each other but u hang out w/o sex and go out to eat it sounds like ur not just fuckbuddies esp if ur not seeing other ppl anymore

C: go eat w her and take her home again for dessert, why not? 

Sarah: I didn’t take her home, she got a car to bring me to hers. 

C: who tf is this girl and why does she sound so badass

Sarah: she’s a control freak who likes to lose control, I’m realizing. 

C: she sounds hotter every second. im once again saying im available if she gets sick of you 

Sarah: no, she’s mine.

C: wow. ur so fucked

C: go on a date and kiss her. or just keep sleeping w her if thats what u guys are doing but u have to just admit u like her

Sarah: I like her.

C: good. update after ur super romantic date 

C: and can I pls see a pic of her

C: so I can get off too 

Sarah: you might recognize her if you see her. 

C: I probably would I love hot women and when u said she had a big tv show I was already trying to guess

Sarah: that’s why I’m not telling you her name. I’ll talk to you after we go to dinner.

C: suit urself. later lovebird 

Sarah was about to put her phone away when it buzzed again.

Bet 🙄: u home???

Sarah: yes

Bet 🙄: and u didn’t text me? 😞

Sarah: it’s been two minutes and I didn’t say I would.

Bet 🙄: whatever. dinner’s tomorrow night at 7 same place as brunch + I’ll come get u 640 ish. wear a booby shirt again!!!!

Sarah: don’t tell me what to wear, dumbass

Bet 🙄: pretty pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee

Bet 🙄: please please or like. a suit 🤤 

Sarah: shut up. You can pick me up and I’ll wear what I wear.

Bet 🙄: ok fiiiiiiine. Can u get me flowers

Sarah: of course not.

Bet 🙄: so mean for what??????? 

Sarah: you like it, so I’m actually being nice. If I was being mean to you I’d say I will wear whatever you want and get you flowers and chocolates and give you a big kiss 

Bet 🙄: wtf 

Bet 🙄: incorrect and really fucked up

Sarah: go eat something, you seem grumpy

Bet 🙄: YOU GO EAT SOMETHING U SEEM LIKE A GIANT BITCH

Sarah: I’d rather just eat you again.

Bet 🙄: I’m gonna cry

Sarah: send photos, multiple angles.

Bet 🙄: no

Sarah: see you tomorrow, babygirl. I can’t stand you.

Bet 🙄: I’m happy again 💘💙💛💜❤️💚💕❣️☺️☺️☺️☺️ see you tomorrow 💝💞💗💚💙🧡

Sarah sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. Talking to Bet felt like trying to juggle a ball made of sewing needles, and she was becoming very fond of sustaining puncture wounds.

Chapter Text

Sarah met Bet outside of her home again when it was time to leave for their dinner, trying not to widen her eyes too noticeably when she got a proper look at her. It was past a point that it would be shocking for her to find Bet devastatingly attractive, of course, but she clearly knew she looked good as she sauntered up to Sarah's front step. Maybe it was having some time away that caused anticipation to build, or maybe it was the fact that Bet had clearly set out to surprise Sarah again, but either way she was mesmerized. Her dress was short and black, and even without looking too long Sarah could tell it was expensive. It fit her too well, like it was altered just for her, and the neckline barely covered the bitten bruises Sarah had decorated her with. Her hair was styled differently than usual, more precise and smoothed down with the ends flipped intentionally, and the heels she wore brought her to a height Sarah wasn't used to seeing her at whatsoever. She still wasn't familiar with each of Bet's myriad presentations, and how each shift in style somehow fit perfectly even if there was an element of contrived performance or a clear goal to provoke. 

"You like?" Bet asked with a grin, tilting her chin upward. 

"You look great," Sarah said, nodding. "You won't get cold, will you?"

"You always have a jacket, I didn't bring one so I can take yours if I need it," Bet said. 

"Right," Sarah said. She didn't follow all of Bet's wardrobe requests, but she went with the type of fitted button-up she apparently liked and a blazer instead of more casual outerwear. She still wore jeans, and she never wore fancy shoes, but she tried.

"Thought you weren't going to listen to me," Bet said, trailing a finger down the buttons of Sarah's shirt. 

"I can still go change before we leave,” Sarah said. “But I don’t hate it when you’re looking at me like you’ve never seen tits before.”

“I’m definitely not complaining,” Bet said. “Come on,” she added, grabbing Sarah’s hand to lead her to the car. 

“What the fuck is all this?” Sarah asked once she opened the passenger door, confronted by a pile of flowers that didn’t seem reasonable by any stretch. 

Bet had already somehow climbed into her seat despite her impractical footwear, leaning over with a grin like she’d pulled off an incredible prank.

“They're roses, ever heard of ‘em?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said, not even sure how to approach moving them out of the way. 

“You said you wouldn’t get me flowers, so I got them for you,” Bet said, sighing happily as she gazed at the bouquet. “Because you’re not gonna want to take them home and figure out what to do with them, so you’ll give them back to me.”

“Jesus,” Sarah said, watching as Bet carefully moved the large pink and red garden’s worth of plants into the backseat. Her eyes wandered as Bet knelt and turned around in her seat to make sure they were appropriately secure, her dress providing enough of a view that Sarah could tell her underwear wasn’t covering much at all. If she didn't know better, she would have wondered if they were actually supposed to make it to dinner or if she was just trying to get Sarah to fuck her in the car.

“What? It’s only, like, three dozen,” Bet said, settling front-facing in her seat again. 

“It’s alarming,” Sarah said. “Am I supposed to give them to you before we go inside the restaurant and then you just put them back in the car after? That seems pointless.”

“It’s romantic, babe. How do you get so many girls if you don’t do basic shit like buying flowers?” Bet asked, kicking her shoes off and dropping them into Sarah’s lap.

“I don’t take them on dates, so flowers never come up. And it’s dangerous to drive without shoes on,” Sarah said.

“It’s dangerous for me to drive with four-inch Loubs on,” Bet replied, like it was an obvious correction.

“You should have worn better shoes for driving, then,” Sarah said. “And I don’t know who Loubs is.”

“They’re literally classic, beautiful shoes. You’re so…ugh, whatever,” Bet said, pulling onto the road. “I’m excited for dinner, I missed you.”

“I was thinking about you, too,” Sarah said. 

“Yeah?” Bet asked. “You were quiet, I thought you were gonna ghost me for a second.”

“I was just thinking,” Sarah said. “And you were quiet, too.”

“I didn’t want to fully scare you off, it’s fun to annoy you but I got, like, in my head after you left,” Bet said. 

“If you text me a million times and I don’t want to reply, I won’t,” Sarah said. 

“It still feels good to know you might be missing me, too, though,” Bet said. “I don’t know, I can’t do anything except think about you lately.”

“That’s fine, baby, you’re supposed to think about me,” Sarah said. 

“Does it make you happy that I do?” Bet asked.

“I’m not a very happy person,” Sarah said. “But I like that you do, sure.”

“I’ll take that,” Bet said. “But I’ll take a lot from you.”

“I know you will,” Sarah said. 

Bet went quiet for a while, gripping the steering wheel hard like she was trying to distract herself from something by straining her hands. 

“What’s wrong? You’re still excited for dinner, right?” Sarah asked. She wasn’t in the habit of checking on her, but it made her feel strange that Bet wasn’t behaving like her usual self. 

“Yeah, I just really want you to have a good night, too,” Bet said, offering too simple of an answer. Sarah couldn’t think of a solid enough reason to doubt her, though, so she didn't push it.

“I’m getting free food with a hot piece of ass, it’s automatically a good night,” Sarah said. 

“Would it kill you to call it a date?” Bet asked.

“You didn’t like being called a hot piece of ass enough to ignore that?” Sarah responded. 

“Almost, but I guess not,” Bet said. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t pout before I give you your flowers,” Sarah said. 

"But I want to, and I am," Bet said, shrugging.

Bet didn’t speak any more until they got there, taking her shoes back from Sarah silently. She seemed uncharacteristically distracted, less chatty and a little more on edge than she should be after getting Sarah to agree to the date in the first place. She was usually occupying her own world in a way that broadcasted the fact she just didn’t care what anyone else was doing, but not to the point she was seemingly focused as though there was a little marble rolling around in her brain that she was trying to keep eyes on without giving away its location to outside observers. Sarah could usually tell what was happening in her head, at least generally, and it was disorienting to feel like she was blocked out when Bet ordinarily loved explaining herself. 

“You’re gonna break your ankles if you jump out with those on,” Sarah said.

“I know,” Bet replied, finally smiling again once she’d gotten back into her heels. 

“Oh, that’s why you didn’t wear good shoes,” Sarah said, getting out of the car so she could go help Bet with her hands at her waist. Bet’s hands settled at her shoulders and she lifted her out of the car, and Sarah let her sneak a peck on her cheek even though she surely left a stamp of lipstick behind. She set her down lightly, her fingertips lingering at her hips.

“Such a gentleman,” Bet said, smoothing her hands down Sarah’s chest a bit too slowly.

“I’m really not,” Sarah said. "Just don't want to have to sit with you in the ER instead of staring at you across the table."

"Aw, you'd sit with me?" Bet asked, like Sarah had mentioned a romantic getaway. "Maybe I should try to break something, then we could have a super long date at the hospital."

"Dinner is better, come on. Let's get you your flowers so we can eat," Sarah said. 

It was hard to look away from her legs as Bet circled the car to get the roses from the backseat, and she once again leaned over at a performative angle to fuss around with the foliage.

“You need to stop doing that,” Sarah said, moving behind her.

“Doing what?” Bet asked.

“Bending over in that dress,” Sarah said, her hands in her pockets. 

"Are you, like, guarding me?" Bet asked, grinning back over her shoulder. 

"Something like that, since you decided to wear transparent underwear," Sarah said. 

"Nobody's gonna see. Glad you looked, though," Bet straightened up with the flowers cradled in her arms, the bouquet so large it was effectively obscuring her face by the time Sarah stepped back and she turned around.

“Take them,” Bet said, and Sarah could tell she was raising her eyebrows expectantly despite her features being hidden.

“This is stupid,” Sarah said, but she obliged. 

“Now, give them to me,” Bet said.

“Here you go, angel,” Sarah said, shoving the too-fragrant armful back toward her.

“Aw, Sarah,” Bet acted, her expression shifting from impatience to movie-worthy adoration, and it was almost impressive how easily she slipped into a role she seemed to have made up for her own enjoyment. “These are beautiful, thank you! You're so sweet to me.”

She beamed up at Sarah, unnaturally close from an angle she usually looked far away at. 

“Good actress, you should get an award,” Sarah said. 

“I have a few,” Bet said, moving past her to stride toward the restaurant with her flowers dwarfing her and Sarah staring at the back of her dress again.

The host only nodded pleasantly in greeting before gesturing for Bet and Sarah to follow, Sarah’s eyes narrowed as they walked through the eerily empty restaurant to the same private dining room they’d hidden away in for brunch.  

“What’s with it being all creepy and deserted tonight?” Sarah asked, looking around once they were seated and the host had left. There were candles lit, and Bet had very obviously planned to bring the bouquet from the time she made the reservation because the host already had a place for it beside the table.

“I wanted to be alone,” Bet said, “so I rented it out. It wasn't that hard.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sarah said. 

“I didn’t want to risk someone with, like, a social media following seeing me all dressed up and out with a hot mystery person. It wasn’t just about you,” Bet said. “I haven’t gotten to go on an actually good date in a while. Besides breakfast with you.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, only paranoid once Bet mentioned the possibility someone would care about seeing her on a supposed date in the first place. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered Bet’s recognizability, but she didn’t think about it often enough for it to make her nervous.

“When I moved here and I was dating that reporter, we weren’t going out anywhere nice. We went to coffee a lot and then fucked at my hotel while my shit was getting set up at my house, but we were mostly in public, doing picnics and whatever,” Bet said. “After the bullshit with her, and knowing some people had already tried to spread photos around, I just stopped even trying. If a selfie of me with a fan got out and exposed where I was staying I could just go somewhere else, but…”

“Yeah,” Sarah said. “If you were with someone...”

Bet nodded, and Sarah didn't feel like she needed her to say anything more in order to understand. 

“If you’re scared like that, why drive around in a flashy car and make scenes like this?” Sarah asked. “Big flowers and nice clothes draw attention. It’s probably not great for your safety.”

She didn’t want to sound like she was blaming her, but it was confusing to be in hiding while showing off. Something about it seemed incredibly reckless, even for her. 

“Yeah, and if time runs out because I went on a nice date with you, it’s okay," Bet said. “It’s worth it, to me.”

Sarah wanted to ask about fifty questions, but their server appeared and Bet shifted to another track so she could unpack the dinner specials while Sarah tried to figure out why she was talking like she was working on a strict timeline all of a sudden. The way she’d phrased it made a pit form in Sarah’s stomach, but it was small enough to push down for the time being. 

“We’ll do a bottle of whatever Pinot Grigio is best,” Bet said. “And two neat vodkas, generous doubles, little tiny shards of ice.” 

“Perfect, what would you like to eat?” 

“I think she’d like the surf and turf, and I’ll do the truffle ravioli,” Bet said, no extra quips or cheeky back-and-forth.

“Great. I’ll be back shortly with your drinks,” the server said, leaving them alone again.

“You’re being weird,” Sarah said, eyeing Bet. This dinner was her idea, and they were somewhere Bet had said she felt comfortable, so it was strange seeing her so clipped and on-edge. 

Sarah saw Bet’s screen light up on the table and watched as she tapped at the notification quickly, scanned a message, then looked away. 

“I’m not, I just had a kind of fucked up start to the day,” Bet said. “But I’m fine now that I’m with you.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Sarah said. 

She didn’t initially think too much of Bet’s slightly skittish phone behavior, then it happened two more times once the drinks arrived. She saw a new notification, opened it somewhat urgently, flicked her eyes over whatever was said, and then looked elsewhere like it would erase how absorbed she’d clearly been. It wasn't envy prickling at the back of Sarah's neck, and maybe she'd just gotten accustomed to Bet giving her too much attention for her to know what to do with, but she couldn't think of a positive reason she'd be glued to her phone after booking out a whole restaurant just to get Sarah to herself.

“Want me to take a picture of you with the flowers?” Sarah asked once the server left again, Bet’s face alight at the idea. “I’ll use yours, since mine’s ‘ancient’.”

“Yes, please, do some with flash and some without,” Bet said automatically, standing up like she was trained to respond to a camera pointing at her. 

Sarah reached for her phone; she wasn’t going to go through it or even read the incoming texts, but the name at the top of the screen settled in her mind as she snapped various pictures. 

“These are gonna be awful,” Bet said as she watched Sarah squint at the screen, grinning once she handed her phone back and she began swiping through the photos. 

“You look prettier in person, anyway," Sarah said. 

"Thanks," Bet said, distracted again. Sarah thought she would at least latch on to a sparing compliment, but she didn't even look up. 

She didn't think Bet was lying about something just because she happened to be getting message after message from an individual she'd never mentioned by name before, but it didn't necessarily make her worry less when Bet was behaving strangely already. It was like she'd decided to play a version of herself for the evening, and not just outside with the bouquet back-and-forth; she was making the same jokes she'd usually make and flirting in the same ways she would any other day, but there was an anxiety behind her eyes and a pause between each interaction that unnerved Sarah to the point she could barely participate herself. The food was excellent, the ambiance was over-the-top intimate, even the wine was nice, and Sarah was having an awful time trying to figure out what could have happened that would change things between them to the degree she couldn't read Bet the way she wanted to. Maybe she felt unfairly entitled to Bet's thoughts since she imposed them on her so aggressively from the start that it felt like she was concealing something huge by not offering Sarah full access to her stream of consciousness. No matter how she tried to rationalize away the nagging feeling that something was seriously wrong, she couldn't let it go. She liked when Bet was so confident and forthcoming it was overwhelming, and when she was open about exactly how she was feeling so Sarah could at least try to anticipate her behavior whether it was rational or not. This pulled back, uncertain iteration was not her favorite, and whoever was causing it was not on Sarah's good side.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sarah asked as Bet reached for her phone again, fed up with trying to guess what this clearly important one-sided conversation was about. 

"Yeah," Bet snapped quickly, flashing an offensively unconvincing smile. 

"Why are you so comfortable lying to me all of a sudden?" Sarah asked. "It's not a good look on you, baby."

"You're dishonest all the time," Bet mumbled. 

"We aren't talking about me," Sarah said. "Just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help so you can focus on the fact you're getting what you want instead of being somewhere else in your head."

"Getting what I want?" Bet asked, laughing. "You're kidding."

"Did you not ask me on a date?" Sarah asked.

"You're so fucking obtuse," Bet said, standing up from her chair.

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked. 

"Bathroom," Bet muttered. 

"I'm not done talking to you," Sarah said. 

"Then come listen to me pee, I don't care," Bet said. 

Sarah was taken aback by the sudden hostility; Bet was often a pain in the ass, but it felt misdirected this time. She followed her, slightly amazed at her speed considering her shoes. 

"I don't actually have to go, I was trying to get away from you," Bet said, her arms crossed as she faced Sarah after reaching around her to flick the lock on the door.

"Why, though?" Sarah asked. "You're desperate to be around me most of the time, now you don't want to talk and you don't want me near you? Just because I can tell something's got you stressed?"

"It's fucking painful," Bet said. "Especially with you acting like you care, that's making it worse."

"You know I care," Sarah said.

"Not enough," Bet said. "And I'm not going to ask you to, so it just sucks to have you worrying about if I'm okay when you aren’t gonna do anything about it if I'm not."

"And you're not," Sarah said definitively. 

"I never am, it's not new," Bet said. 

"But this is," Sarah said. "Something happened, and if it's going to make you keep acting like a freak I'd rather try to fix it than pretend I don't notice."

"I'm not asking you to fix shit for me," Bet said. 

"Then what are you asking for? Because you seem mad at me for something I didn't even do," Sarah said. "I can't make it better if you don't tell me."

"It's crazy that it suddenly matters to you how I feel. I'm always fucking mad at you for things you aren't doing," Bet said. “It’s, like, constant.”

"Then just say what you want from me," Sarah said. "Or ask for something, whichever."

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask for from you because there’s a chance you’ll just hear it and want to take it away from me,” Bet said.

"I'm not taking anything away from you by not giving you every single thing on your wishlist," Sarah said. 

"Yes, you are," Bet argued. "You might not know that you are, but you are."

“I can't take it from you if I don't know what it is, and I’m not out to make your life worse,” Sarah said. 

“Well, you're doing it anyway,” Bet said. "I honestly wish I never met you."

“Oh, please,” Sarah said, unsure how Bet thought she would get away with such a bold claim. “Do you want to call your girlfriend back home and have her come get you, then?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bet asked.

“The girl who keeps texting you. I can look at your screen just like you look at mine,” Sarah said. 

“I haven’t responded,” Bet said, avoiding Sarah's gaze.

“You keep reading the messages, though,” Sarah said. “If you need me in all the ways you say you do, you sure seem fucking distracted. Is that what's going on?”

“Maybe I’m distracted because you’re still pushing me away,” Bet said. 

“Am I?” Sarah asked, her hands finding a familiar place on Bet’s hips and forcing her back against the wall beside the marble counter. “I thought we were getting close.”

“We would be if you weren’t still trying to keep me in some kind of separate category,” Bet mumbled.

“What category is that?” Sarah asked, Bet’s hands reaching to grip her by the front of her blazer as she finally met her eyes again. 

“One where you’ll never let yourself actually be with me,” Bet said. 

“I’ve been with you,” Sarah said, her thumbs rubbing over Bet’s hips. 

“You love acting like you don’t know what I'm talking about,” Bet said. “And you keep telling me there are things you can’t do for me, but fuck, I can't wait forever-“

“I just don't think it sounds like you believe me when I say what I mean, Bet," Sarah interrupted, unsure how they possibly managed to end up like this again, the venue different but the same excruciatingly adrenaline-inducing push and pull extending through her fingertips as she pressed Bet into the ornately tiled wall. 

"That's because I don't," Bet said. "It doesn't count as only punishing me when you're keeping it from yourself, too."

"I'm not punishing you," Sarah said. "Saying no to you isn't always some kind of fucking game."

"Isn't it, though?" Bet asked. "When I just want you to fucking kiss me and you won't do it even though it clearly makes me sad, what is that?"

"That's me. Saying. No," Sarah gritted, trying to keep her voice low.

"But you won't tell me why," Bet said, her own volume unaffected by the fact they could be overheard. "And it's not like you care when I say no, Sarah."

"Keep it down," Sarah warned. "And you're just making shit up, you don't say no to me."

"I don't fucking care about keeping it down," Bet said. "You're such a liar."

"You're the one who thinks the word 'no' is a game, that's not on me," Sarah said. "Being a brat so I'll get rough with you isn't a boundary."

"What if I said I didn't want you doing that shit to me anymore?" Bet asked. 

"Would you say it in your 'please keep doing it' voice, or would you actually be serious?" Sarah asked, scoffing as Bet lifted her arm. 

She caught her wrist, leaning her cheek against Bet's outstretched hand. Bet’s fingers twitched, but she didn’t try to pull away. 

"Is this really about kissing, or are you trying to say something else?" Sarah asked. "And you know better than to try to hit me. Don't be stupid."

"I'm saying I want you to be able to show me how you feel about me," Bet said. "Or just, like, actually say it," she continued. "Not just how much I frustrate you or make you mad, the other stuff. And nothing I do makes you think I deserve to hear it," Bet said. 

"If you're looking for what you deserve, you're doing it wrong by talking to me," Sarah said. "You seemed fine with where we were at the other day, I didn't think you needed to define what we’re doing."

"I know I signed up for this, but I just want you to like me," Bet said, frowning like she was upset with herself for expressing it aloud. "I really, really want you to like me."

"I fucking like you, Bet," Sarah said. "And I show you all the time."

"Well, show me more," Bet said. "Act like you'd actually feel something if I wasn't here."

"That's what I'm doing every time I see you," Sarah said. "Or talk to you, or anything. I make time for you and do dumb shit that makes you happy because I like you."

"If you can admit you like me, why can't you just kiss me about it, too? You can be inside me and you can push me around when you're angry and you can call me names that make it sound like you're in love with me some days, so why can't you do that?" Bet asked, nearly pleading. 

“Because then this is all real,” Sarah said. “And I can’t do that right now.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Bet said. “It’s already real if you’re scared of something so dumb making it that way.” 

“Well, good thing you don’t make the rules,” Sarah said. “And I’m not scared.”

“Yes, you are. You even told me you were scared of staying after we had sex, and I understand that you have intimacy issues and whatever other fucked up stuff in your brain that makes you act like this, but at a point it sounds insane," Bet said. "I don't have time to fucking sit around until everything's perfect for you, I want you now."

"If it bothers you so much, why keep pretending you'll take what you get?" Sarah asked. "If you're not gonna be satisfied, you should go find someone who can join you in the goddamn fairytale you think you're in. I'm doing what I can."

"I didn't think it would be like this," Bet said, her voice watery. "But I definitely don't think I'm in a fairytale."

"What is it, then? Why are you so upset all of a sudden when you should be happy tonight, hm?" Sarah asked. 

"I can't tell you," Bet said. "And I am happy, even if I’m upset, too.”

"You look like you're about to cry," Sarah said. "Not in the way I like, either."

"I'm not," Bet said, and if her voice hadn't betrayed her already her eyes certainly would have. 

"If you're hiding shit from me, I'm not going to play along and beg for answers," Sarah said. "Do you want to tell me what's going on, or are you going to bullshit me and deflect some more?"

"It's not the right time," Bet said, sighing. "But I'm not bullshitting you."

"Great," Sarah said, her patience expired in terms of non-answers. "Are we done talking, then?"

"Sure," Bet said, yanking her wrist away when Sarah finally loosened her grip. "Are you gonna fuck me, or do you want to leave?" 

"I want to go finish our date, then I'll decide what to do with you," Sarah said. 

"As if you're still deciding," Bet said. 

"I wasn't torn until you confronted me in a damn bathroom," Sarah said, stepping away. "I don't know what's wrong with you tonight, but maybe an attitude adjustment would help. I'm just not sure if you deserve it."

"Whatever, Sarah," Bet said, shoving past her to unlock the door and head back to the table. "And you followed me in there, I wasn't angling for a confrontation," she added as Sarah walked after her. 

"Yeah, and then you tried to slap me,” Sarah said. 

“And you stopped me, so it’s fine,” Bet said, sitting down at the table again. “What do you want to get for dessert?”

“Whatever you want, dollface,” Sarah said with a sigh, seated once more as well. 

“Creme brûlée,” Bet said. “And I get to crack the top.”

“Alright,” Sarah shrugged. 

The rest of the meal felt like a dance with knives involved, prodding but not slicing as the pair tiptoed along an edge of something that was still lost on Sarah. Bet was fiery and she was certainly still performing, but Sarah wasn’t even sure if she was the intended audience at this point. When dessert came the server torched it table side, and the flame reflected in Bet’s eyes like it belonged there.

“Do you like it because it’s interactive?” Sarah asked, watching Bet tap her spoon against the hard, sugary surface once they were alone again. 

“Yeah, it’s great when you have to break something to enjoy it,” Bet said, true satisfaction on her face when she accomplished the delicate cracks she was working toward. “Tastes good, too, but I love ruining it first.”

“Am I supposed to be looking for a metaphor there?” Sarah asked. 

“Depends,” Bet said. “What would it be about?”

“I’m not sure,” Sarah said, watching Bet take a bite. “Let me try it.”

Bet licked the spoon clean before dipping into the silky custard again, passing it to Sarah by the handle and watching her intently. She hadn’t checked her phone any more since they returned from the bathroom, and now her focus burned like the sun through a magnifying glass. 

“Do you like it?” Bet asked. 

“I do, because you made it sound like you,” Sarah said. 

“That’s twisted,” Bet said. 

“Why? Because you taste good, too?” Sarah asked, passing the spoon back. 

“Right, just because of that,” Bet said, a brow raised as she went back for more. 

“I don’t think we should leave right when you’re done,” Sarah said, some part of her warning that she shouldn’t end up at Bet’s house again tonight.

“Why’s that?” Bet asked. “Did you decide what you’re gonna do to me?”

“Yeah, and then you’re taking me home,” Sarah said. 

“And I still can’t come inside?” Bet asked. 

“Correct,” Sarah said. “Take your time, though. I don’t mind looking at you while you finish.”

Sarah finished her glass of wine, and Bet somehow managed to make the act of consuming her dessert more tense than it needed to be. 

“Still upset with me?” Sarah asked as Bet removed her napkin from her lap and dabbed at the corner of her mouth.

“A little,” Bet said. 

“Fine, let’s go talk some more,” Sarah said, standing up. 

She led the way this time, enjoying the sound of Bet clicking after her in her heels. 

“You don’t seriously want to talk, do you?” Bet asked, the door already locked. 

Sarah ran her hands down Bet’s sides, guiding her to face the mirror. 

“We can multitask,” Sarah said. “Then, if anyone hears, we’re just having a conversation again.” 

“Okay,” Bet said, her eyes on Sarah’s as she nodded at her reflection.

“What do you want, Bet?” Sarah asked, one arm snaking around her waist as Bet braced herself against the counter with her hands splayed. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Bet said. 

“And what else?” Sarah asked, her free hand already under Bet’s dress. “You had some demands earlier, and I’m listening now. I don’t want to leave here until you feel better, okay?”

“That’s all,” Bet said, defiant and clearly excited.

“Now who’s being dishonest?” Sarah asked, her fingers moving Bet’s slick panties aside. 

“I’m not,” Bet said, her breaths shaking as Sarah rubbed her slowly. “That’s really all I want, doesn't matter what else I said.” 

“Fine, that’s your choice,” Sarah said. “You just want to be my fuck toy, then? You don’t care if I like you anymore?” 

“That’s right,” Bet moaned as Sarah’s fingers slid into her, hard and deep. “I don’t care.”

It was hard to even consider thinking of her as something to play with when she was so much more, and she’d seemed to understand that fact the last time they actually talked before tonight; she certainly understood the sentiment when Sarah was inside her the first time. 

“Pathetic little liar,” Sarah said. “You want to be my girl, not just my toy.”

“No, I don’t,” Bet said, pushing back against Sarah’s fingers. 

“I’m not gonna move until you admit it,” Sarah said, biting the inside of her cheek when she felt Bet clench around her after she spoke. 

“Fuck you,” Bet said. 

“You’re trying to, hm?” Sarah asked, moving forward so Bet was more firmly held against the counter’s edge. “But I’ve got you pinned, so you should probably just say it.”

“Please,” Bet breathed. “Sarah, it’s not fair.”

“Say you want to be mine,” Sarah said. 

“No,” Bet whined. 

“Say it, angel,” Sarah said. “You’re so wet, don’t you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Make you cum?”

Sarah teased just enough to pull a noise from Bet's throat, curling her fingers and pushing as deep as she could. It was a nice angle, Bet's ass pressed against her and Sarah's feet bracketing hers on either side.

“I want to be yours,” Bet gave up, her eyes falling shut as Sarah watched her in the mirror. “I want to be your girl.”

“Good,” Sarah said, drawing her fingers back and slamming forward again. “Don’t lie to me again, I like it when you tell me the truth.” 

She didn’t waste any more time, her wrist working quickly and Bet’s muted moans punctuating nearly each hurried thrust. 

“Fuck,” Bet breathed, opening her eyes to catch Sarah’s once more.

“You’re all mine,” Sarah said. “You already were, but I’ll remind you more often since you forgot tonight.”

Bet swallowed her next moan, and Sarah slowed just to add a third finger. She wasn’t in a total rush, but she’d been wanting to touch her all night. Now that Bet was done being contrary, it was hard to let up, especially with such a nice view.

“I told you I wanted to keep you safe,” Sarah said, fucking into her harder. “You think I can do that if you’re trying to hide from me?” 

She didn’t actually expect Bet to answer, shifting the arm she had around her waist so she could grab at her chest over the portion of her dress that was now fighting to keep her covered. It felt good to see Bet watching herself like this, her eyes on Sarah’s hand as she squeezed roughly. 

“Sorry for hiding,” Bet managed, clearly struggling with her end of the conversation. 

“I forgive you,” Sarah said. “And I care about you, baby,” she added, her fingers driving more eagerly as Bet’s mouth dropped open. “But you can’t worship me and then run away, that’s not how it works.” 

Sarah rearranged suddenly, drawing her fingers from Bet so quickly she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss before two wet digits filled the inviting space she’d left between her lips. The hand kneading her breast moved beneath the front hem of her dress instead, rubbing her quickly through thin, drenched material. Bet sucked at the fingers in her mouth, her eyes on Sarah’s as she chased the friction Sarah was providing. Sarah held her chin steady with her thumb, stroking against her tongue as Bet squirmed back against her. She worked in faster circles under her dress, feeling her clit through mesh and lace and trying to keep from moaning herself as Bet bit down on her fingers. Bet shuddered against her, tiny moans vibrating onto Sarah’s knuckles before she drew her hand away from her face. She kept rubbing her gently until Bet pushed her hand away, her lips shiny and her cheeks pinker than the makeup she’d applied.

“Good talk,” Bet said, tugging her dress back into place. 

“Mm,” Sarah hummed, not at all unhappy with the sight of Bet’s chin shiny with her own mess. “You probably need a second before going out there, don’t you?” Sarah asked. 

“Yeah,” Bet nodded, turning on the sink. 

Sarah washed her hands and Bet dealt with her face, not as disheveled as she probably should be but noticeably less pristine than when she’d walked in. 

“Can you just tell them to charge the card on file and do the usual tip?” Bet asked. “I don’t want to see anyone when we go.” 

“Sure,” Sarah said, shrugging out of her blazer. “Here, so you have a disguise.”

“Thanks,” Bet said, accepting the jacket. “I’ll just be a sec.”

Sarah left with a nod and returned to the table, resisting the opportunity presented to look at Bet’s phone again as it vibrated over and over like a taunt to ruin her buzz. She had her, and she knew it, so she couldn’t let whatever was happening behind the scenes influence her any further. If Bet didn’t want to talk about it, and if she wanted to pretend everything was fine, Sarah knew it would be easier to let that be the case than pushing her again and again to reveal more. She didn’t expect the same restraint from Bet, but she knew she was capable of keeping her concerns quiet if she could maintain the rest of what they kept fighting each other to pursue. Being with her in the ways they could both agree on was so far from anything perfect she’d ever heard of, and she had an inkling that whatever Bet was holding back would shatter the illusion they’d built so unsteadily beyond the possibility of repair. She cut her losses, at least for the time being, and told the server what Bet had relayed once they reappeared. What Sarah didn’t know could still hurt her, but at least she'd be able to pretend she hadn’t seen it coming.

Chapter Text

Bet made her way back to the table after Sarah had already collected the roses, cradling them in her arms like they were a threat despite their thorns all being trimmed. Bet stared at the flowers like they were a wish, taking them in her arms again with a 'thanks' that disappeared into the petals. Sarah felt a cold, tight ache flash in her chest like she’d swallowed something she wasn’t supposed to, sticking between her ribs like a sharp, oversized ice cube frozen to the inside of a too-small pipe. Maybe it was the somewhat guilty feeling that it really wouldn’t be that hard to give Bet some of the care she wanted, and that it sometimes took more effort to treat her poorly. Maybe it was the hazy but gleaming reflection that Bet showed more pieces of recently, one that looked like women Sarah had known who could feel happy as much as they could feel sad and whole as much as they were shattered. Whatever it was, it made her pause until Bet’s voice slipped through a crack in her rumination. 

“Come on, let’s go out the side exit,” Bet said, and Sarah walked a step behind her.

Once they’d escaped together, Sarah still unsure what they were hurrying away from, Bet rushed to the car without so much as a stumble despite the uneven ground and sparse light. She was still careful with the flowers, but quick to put them away in the back again. Sarah helped her into the car wordlessly, setting her down in the front seat with a look that felt too fond for how strange the date had been. She cupped her cheek and pressed her lips to her forehead before letting herself in on the other side. 

"I'm sorry for everything, and for being all over the place tonight," Bet said, pulling away from the restaurant once she’d handed Sarah her heels again. 

"I already told you I forgive you," Sarah said, some of the lingering ice in her throat finally thawing now that she’d returned to her role as a shoe-holder. "And you're always all over the place."

"I know, I just…I wish you could stay at mine again, so I'd know you weren't gonna think so hard about tonight that you decide you don't want to do this, after all. Whatever it is." The words fell from Bet's mouth around pushpins she seemed to hold face-up on her tongue, slipping past sharper definitions and pooling vaguely between the two of them. 

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to come over tonight," Sarah said. "I just need a second."

"You promise you're not mad, though?" Bet asked, too uncertain and fearful sounding for Sarah to want to tease her about it.

"I'm not," Sarah said. "And even if I was, you'd still be mine," she added, not sure if it sounded reassuring or like a correction. "So, don't worry too much, alright?"

"I'll try," Bet said. "But I do need to see you again soon."

"You're still seeing me right now," Sarah pointed out, unable to resist. "Plus, you might change your mind."

"I don't think I will, but I know I'm gonna feel lonely without you in my bed later," Bet said with a sigh. "I want you to remind me I'm yours all night, so I can know for sure that I'm not imagining it."

"If we make plans for sometime soon, will you be able to relax?" Sarah asked. 

"Like, in a couple of days?" Bet asked, something clicking back to life behind her eyes. "I'm gonna try to take care of some things tomorrow and the next day, but I know I have to see you before next week."

"In a couple days works for me," Sarah said, biting her tongue in terms of a follow up question about Bet suddenly being so conscious of her schedule. 

She seemed to Sarah like she floated through her days doing whatever she pleased, but now that she thought of it Bet never really talked about the contents of her routine besides thinking about Sarah and lounging around at home. She was sure that someone as prominent as she sounded like she was before leaving her career wouldn’t be able to get away with truly severing all her ties, and she clearly was savvy enough with her money to have enough of it not to worry about being out of work indefinitely, so at the very least she probably had a financial advisor or someone she kept in touch with. Sarah hoped whatever she was dealing with that was giving her stress was accounting related and easily fixable, for Bet’s sake and selfishly for her own as well. 

"We can stay in at mine, if that would be okay," Bet said, only half-sounding as though her own thoughts required additional permission. "Like, I could make you watch a movie with me or something, or we could just roll around in bed all day," she continued smiling slightly. "And I can get whatever food you want, or I can cook…we'll have fun, and if I'm too annoying you can put a muzzle on me."

Bet seeming truly excited at her own ideas made Sarah soften more than she already had by the time they'd both gotten in the car. She sounded more like herself, nearly delusional in her optimism and openly longing for simple quality time with someone she’d so recently accused of worsening her life. Sarah had been firm in asking for her honesty, and she pushed her to admit things Sarah had only barely begun to admit herself; it wouldn't make sense to turn down the invitation now when she wanted to keep Bet close. 

"I know I'll regret saying we can do whatever you want," Sarah said, “but I'll come over, and I'll bring you a surprise. You have to plan everything else, but I’ll go along with it. And I'm not putting a muzzle on you, idiot."

"A surprise?" Bet asked, drumming her fingertips against her steering wheel and not caring to follow up on anything else said. 

"Yes," Sarah nodded. "And if you want to complain about it, you can, but I think you'll like it."

She only had half of an idea, but if she couldn’t commit to anything else she could at least come through on a promise riddled with entirely unclear expectations. She’d caught up to the fact that Bet cherished intentions more than acts, and that was why she didn’t feel all that bad about speaking on a surprise that didn’t exist yet.

"Well, now I'm super excited," Bet grinned, and she sounded so earnest Sarah almost felt terrible.

"Good, you should be," Sarah said in spite of herself. “You’re always saying you like anything I do for you, so it shouldn’t even matter.”

"Can I try to guess what it is?" Bet asked, something already poised at the tip of her tongue as Sarah shook her head.

"No," Sarah said. "Just look forward to it, okay?"

Bet nodded, and Sarah wondered how she'd ended up in a position where no matter what Bet said or did, she felt compelled by an urge so strong it was like a white-hot stake at the base of her spine prodding at her to make her smile. Ignoring the call to tenderness hurt, the sensation prickly and unpleasant and much too loud, but answering it hurt, too. She didn't want to carry any soft, easily bruised part of somebody else's happiness since that was one of the responsibilities that tended to come along with caring too much about real things. Still, here she was, some porcelain trinket she didn't know how to maintain cradled clumsily in rough hands holding too tightly and not tightly enough. She felt ill at the thought of Bet growing too frustrated with her attachment issues to keep begging for her affection, and more ill at the possibility she could lose her because she was too proud of how awful she'd become at letting someone need her. By the time she got home, she already missed the smell of roses and sweet, expensive perfume. She hoped the scent would linger on her blazer that Bet still wore as she drove away. It wasn't long before she got a text from her, likely the moment she got home herself, and for the first time she didn't feel a single urge to convince herself she wasn't pleased to hear from her.

Bet 🙄: thanks for making me say it earlier

Sarah: say what?

Bet 🙄: u know what 

Sarah: it's easier to tell me how you feel when I'm fucking you, isn't it?

Bet 🙄: sometimes yeah

Bet 🙄: but u tell me things when ur with me like that too, that's why it doesn't feel like I can believe it 

Sarah: you think I'm roleplaying and everything I say doesn't count anymore when I'm not inside you?

Bet 🙄: maybe??? u know it gets me off when u say u like me and I'm yours and call me cute names and all of that so maybe u just say it to make the sex better. or it's hot to u to mess w my feelings like that bc ur a sadistic perv

Bet 🙄: idk I'm stupid 🤡🩵

Sarah: you are. It's not pretend, though. You're my angel girl, I like you too much, and I'm gonna keep you even though you scare me sometimes. Is that clear enough?

Bet 🙄: so fucked up and mean to say that when u can't hold me and tell me over and over til I fall asleep 💔ughhhh

Sarah: I'll tell you again soon, baby. I'll bring you your surprise and spend the day with you like I said I would.

Bet 🙄: I'll try not to start a fight this time

Sarah: it's fine if you do. I know you like fighting, sometimes I believe what you said about it making you feel better.

Bet 🙄: yeah but still ): I can try to be good

Sarah: you don't have to, I'll still be there if we're fighting. Maybe. 

Sarah: but it’s nice when you’re good.  

Bet 🙄: will my surprise change depending on my behavior or can I have it no matter what 👀 

Sarah: why would I answer that? 

Bet 🙄: bc u like me and I’m curious 

Sarah: nope.

Bet 🙄: U DONT LIKE ME??????????? 😨

Sarah: that isn’t what I said. I meant I’m not telling you any more about your surprise. Look at the messages above. 

Bet 🙄: ???????? what why 

Sarah: I’m not going to say I like you again just because you can’t read. Look at my other message, now. 

Bet 🙄: u still kinda said it again ☺️🩵💙💚🩷💜I like u too sarah

Sarah: dummy.

Bet 🙄: wish u were here to call me tht to my face 🥀

Sarah: I am not coming over no matter how pitiful you act. You can wait a couple of days, and after that you can wait again until the next time we see each other. We could do that for months, probably. There's time, be patient.

Bet 🙄: ugh fine I guessssssss

Bet 🙄: I’ll bother u tomorrow 😚I think I’m gonna go to bed early tonight <3 

Sarah: okay. Sleep well, Bet. 

Sarah was surprised that Bet ended the conversation so quickly without her expected clinginess, scanning the recent messages between them for any hint as to why she’d suddenly feel like going to bed without sending a string of innuendos or outright explicit details about what she may or may not need in order to fall asleep. Sarah wasn’t being any meaner than usual from her perspective, and if anything it looked like she was being incredibly nice, so she was confused but she wasn’t going to screw herself over by being pushy about Bet’s feelings when they’d already had such a discordant night. She wanted to focus on actually pulling off a nice surprise, something that would be useful enough for her to be able to justify spending money on but Bet-esque enough for it to feel special. 

One of the only good things about still having connections from her past was being able to call in a quick favor; that was how she ended up settling on this particular town as a place to live in the first place, since Cali had moved here already and Sarah had a few contacts in the area ranging from entirely legal and legitimate to broadly criminal-adjacent. As far as above-board acquaintances, someone she’d met during an investigation helped get Sarah a steep deal on her home so she didn’t need to take out any loans, but she had to reach out to someone a little sketchier for what she was thinking of. She didn’t associate with murderers, of course, but she absolutely knew a few folks whose clientele sometimes dabbled in such realms, and a lot of them owed her favors. 

”Christ? It’s been a while, are you active again?” 

”No, never,” Sarah said. “I’m calling on personal business, I need a gift for someone with fast turnaround.”

A gruff chuckle came from the other line.

”Oh, a lady friend?” 

“Something like that, yeah. Can I send you a list of shit she likes and come down to take a look at some options? I would need it fast, within two days,” Sarah said.

“I can make that happen for you, just text me what type of stuff to pull and I’ll grab some selections. Come by whenever, just give me a heads up. Is your friend experienced at all?”

“God, no. Beginner options only,” Sarah said. "More self-defense than flaying people, alright?"

Actually typing out a list of things that Bet liked felt ridiculous and more difficult than Sarah expected. She thought of all the different outfits she’d worn, pivoting so regularly to the point Sarah couldn’t pin her down without using her hands. She considered the way she jumped between masculine and feminine styles, and her clearly expensive taste in everything from her flashy car to her shoes and the liquor she coveted, then she approached her affinity for romantic gestures and cutesy bullshit like pastel colored food containers and the pair of overly fluffy pink slippers that Sarah saw in the corner of her bedroom when she’d stayed over. When it came to how she acted around Sarah, she always behaved like she wanted to be everything at once. Tough and fearsome but soft and lovely, and always every bit as frustrating as she was so desperately pliant under the right circumstance. She was sharp, angular and calculating, but she was messy and undefinable, too. Sarah thought that something pretty and dangerous would suit her well because that was how she saw her, a beautiful thing that just might kill her if she wasn’t paying close enough attention. She was immediately drawn to a particular knife when she got to the store, an array of weapons laid out across the top of a glass display case. It felt like the room tipped toward it, the handle catching the sun in a way that seemed too artful, but the spotlight might have been coming from her own eyes.

“How long does it take you to engrave something?” Sarah asked, inspecting the handle she’d honed in on. It seemed a bit too perfect, an easy way to make a reference to something that would remind Bet of her each time she saw it but not so sappy she’d back out of giving it to her at all. It was pretty and only slightly impractical, which felt perfect for Bet, and that made it perfect to her. 

“I have the machine in the back, I can have it done in ten if you just want a word or something. Want to take a look at the book? You can pick a font, symbols, all that shit.” 

Sarah nodded, already overwhelmed after a page of font choices. She still managed to choose, ignoring how juvenile it felt to overthink a gift for a girl. Maybe it wasn’t juvenile, but it did remind her of when she was younger and more tethered to other people. She didn’t have to promise Bet a surprise and intentional time together, but she’d wanted to, and it scared her up until the point where the fear bled into excitement. Something only slightly more tangible than a faint wisp of possibility percolated in her mind’s eye, disappearing if she tried to see it straight on, but it was there. She didn’t know if she could earn its permanence, whatever that possibility was, but a gift seemed like a good enough start and more than she would have expected from herself prior to meeting Bet. She let her thoughts roll themselves into a tightly wound ball as she waited for the engraving to be finished, satisfied with the result and more excited than usual to see Bet again. She had other options in mind to accompany the present, ones that Bet would have to keep in her memory instead of in a box, but those ideas didn’t require nearly as much planning. 

Bet had gone mostly silent again as far as messages, and though it gave Sarah time to focus and get some actual rest leading up to spending time together again, she’d half expected her to show up at the bar because she couldn’t wait a full two days. Even Charlie noticed that Sarah hadn’t been coming in as often lately, and when she was there without Bet she didn’t stay very long anymore. Going to the bar at all at this point was mostly just an opportunity to stretch her legs on the walk to and from, a way to kill some time and pretend she wasn’t waiting for a notification. When her phone vibrated on her way home the night before her plans with Bet she let it ring a few times, but she still felt a warmth she didn’t dislike when she answered and heard Bet’s voice again.

“Sarah Christ,” Bet greeted like her name was the word ‘hello’, her voice soft around the edges like it was when she’d had a few drinks. 

“Hey, kid,” Sarah said. “What’s up?” 

“Not much, just excited for tomorrow,” Bet said. “And I miss you, so I wanted to call.”

“Yeah? Did you take care of business?” Sarah asked, glad Bet was still looking forward to time with her despite not feeling talkative for the last couple of days.

“To be determined,” Bet groaned emphatically, and Sarah hoped her playful tone meant the aforementioned business wasn’t too worrisome anymore. “But it’s fine, I can’t wait to see you,” she added. 

“What’s on the schedule?” Sarah asked.

“Depends what the surprise is,” Bet countered.

“It’ll ruin it if I tell you,” Sarah said. “But I think I should know what you want to do so I can be prepared.”

“That’s not fair,” Bet argued. “Why do you get to be prepared but I don’t?” 

“Because that’s how surprises work, dumbass,” Sarah said. 

“Just dress comfy and don’t make me wait too long,” Bet said. “I’ll send you a car when you’re ready.” 

“Tell me a time, if you give me all day I’ll take it,” Sarah said, and she knew she was lying. She’d probably be up too early twiddling her thumbs, pretending to watch the news until she could see her. 

“Get picked up at one-ish so we can have lunch together and then have time for other things after?” Bet suggested.

“Alright,” Sarah said. “And do you expect me to spend the night?” 

“You’re always welcome to,” Bet said. “But if you want to go home I’ll only be super offended and I might cry myself to sleep, so it’s up to you.”

“Okay, brat,” Sarah said. 

“I wish it was tomorrow already,” Bet said. “Did you go out tonight?”

“Just for a little while,” Sarah said. 

“Not as fun without me?” Bet asked, and Sarah could picture the smug look that she surely wore as she spoke. 

“Something like that,” Sarah said. “I like my girl with me.” 

“I’m not used to you calling me that,” Bet murmured, suddenly bashful.

“That’s okay, it’s cute how much you like it,” Sarah said. 

“You’re being too nice,” Bet said. 

“I called you a dumbass a minute ago,” Sarah said.

“Yeah, that’s one of your pet names for me,” Bet said. 

“No,” Sarah said, sighing. “It’s me thinking you’re dumb. ‘Stupid girl’ is a pet name.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bet said.

“You just don’t get it because you’re stupid, baby. That’s the point,” Sarah said. “What did you do tonight?”

“Just stayed at home, I was on the phone and shit all day so I just wanted to drink and watch bad TV,” Bet said. 

Sarah wanted to ask about the phone calls and what it was that Bet was trying to sort out, but she figured if it was something major she would say something considering how poorly Sarah had reacted to her furtiveness at their dinner. 

“Well, I hope you get some good rest tonight so we can enjoy our day tomorrow,” Sarah said.

“What, you think I’ll be cranky if I don’t get eight hours?” Bet asked. 

“You do get cranky sometimes, I’ve seen it,” Sarah said. "You need to sleep."

“Okay, dad,” Bet said, as if it was possible to convey an eye roll with just her voice. “I’ll go to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“Good girl,” Sarah said. “Text me in the morning tomorrow, would you?”

“I thought I didn’t have to talk to you first thing unless I had a wet dream,” Bet said. 

“I changed my mind,” Sarah explained simply. 

“Okay,” Bet said, sounding more flustered than she had been for the rest of the call. “Night, Sarah.”

“Night, don’t stay up thinking about me too long,” Sarah said.

“Oh, I will,” Bet said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sleep tight, angel.”

The call wasn’t terribly long, but it was enough to place Sarah back at her front door by the time she hung up. The stillness of her home hummed at her, fuzzy and claustrophobia inducing. There was no reason to sit in the feeling, nothing important or compelling demanding her attention. She only wanted to meet demands from one person, anyway, and that was enough justification for her to actually try for a normal amount of sleep, too. She woke up feeling significantly less shitty than usual; it wasn’t something she felt the need to bring up around Bet, the fact that her body seemed to ache perpetually and that her mostly-permanent scowl was partially a result of being too tired to bother emoting, but it was hard to keep up with her sometimes. She could always gather the stamina for more stimulating activities, of course, but it was rare for her to have actual energy like this, especially unaided by caffeine. 

Bet 🙄: GOOD MORNING 🩷😘😜🤩🫦❤️‍🔥✝️ rise and shine ☀️my Sarahhhhh 

Sarah: I have risen.

Bet 🙄: was that a joke omg

Sarah: yes, baby. Good morning. Did you sleep well? 

Bet 🙄: ya I did actually. not as good as w you but we can fix that tonight 

Sarah: maybe we can.

Bet 🙄: do you like chinese food

Sarah: I do, is that what we’re having?

Bet 🙄: yessss because then it’s like a romcom :) we can sit on the floor and you can feed me with your chopsticks 💞

Sarah: if I sit on the floor I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get up.

Bet 🙄: whatever grandpa we can sit on the couch then I GUESS

Sarah: last night I was dad and now I’m grandpa? What’s going on with you? 

Bet 🙄: nothing ur just acting old af

Sarah: I am old. 

Bet 🙄: I forget sometimes lol 😚cradle robber

Sarah: you’re in your 30s. 

Bet 🙄: right I’m literally a baby that’s why u call me baby..?????

Sarah: whatever you say. I’m going to make coffee now, see you in a few hours 

Bet 🙄: SEE U LATERR IM SO EXCITED DID U GET ME A RING FOR MY SURPRISE 😍😍😍😍💍 

Sarah: ha ha. No.

After watching as Bet sent several long strands of sad, tearful emoticons in response, Sarah finally got her coffee started. The morning crept by, slow and empty of anything but an undercurrent that Sarah could only identify as uncharacteristic giddiness. Maybe it was Bet’s enthusiasm or the prospect of doing something they hadn’t done yet in the form of a planned at-home date, but either way she felt slightly off-center. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, just a strange one that was so close to having been forgotten altogether it almost seemed entirely new. She let the driver ensnare her in light smalltalk on the way to Bet’s house, amazed once again at the kind things people said about Bet behind her back. It wasn’t that she didn’t know her to be sweet in her own way, but it was a horribly charming trait to be so lovely to people they felt the need to mention it to strangers. It could be that she was only selfish and aggressive around Sarah, but either way she liked the tiny glimpses at other parts of her through eyes that weren’t her own.

“Hi, babe,” Bet greeted as she swung her front door open, Sarah sporting a bag that looked more suited for documents than overnight supplies and presents. 

“Hi yourself,” Sarah said, giving Bet a once over as she followed her inside. “Your AC is freezing, how are you not cold in that?” 

“I have blankets and you to warm me up,” Bet shrugged, the straps of her tank top almost comically thin and the shorts she wore showing off plenty as she strode through the foyer. 

“I’m not complaining about it, I like looking at you,” Sarah said, setting her bag down on one of the chairs in the living room. 

“I know,” Bet said, turning to flash a grin over her shoulder with a perfect toss of her hair before she moved to gesture at the array of takeout containers waiting on the coffee table. “Look at our feast, I got a bunch of stuff because I forgot to ask what you usually order.” 

“You’re crazy,” Sarah said, sighing. "It's excessive for two people."

“I’m thorough,” Bet said. “Do I get my surprise before or after we eat?”

“Oh, after,” Sarah said. “After we’re done watching whatever it is you want to watch, too.”

Bet only pouted for a moment, too excited to commit to acting upset that she had to wait. They settled on the couch after Bet grabbed them a couple of drinks, insisting that Sarah have a ‘proper vodka soda for normal human beings’ before tucking herself next to her and turning on a movie. 

“It’s not a horror movie, right?” Sarah asked, already fascinated by how Bet only seemed to know which container of food she wanted when it was in Sarah’s hands. 

“No, why?” Bet asked, opening her mouth expectantly after eyeing a piece of orange chicken Sarah fully intended to eat herself. Sarah fed it to her anyway. 

“Just wondering,” Sarah said, shrugging.

“I call bullshit,” Bet said. “You’re afraid of scary movies, that’s amazing.”

“What’s so amazing about it?” Sarah asked, scoffing. 

“You’re literally a badass,” Bet said. “Like, how are you not scared of guns and murderers and corpses and shit but you’re scared of fake stuff on a screen?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t like being startled,” Sarah grumbled. “It doesn’t matter, shut up.”

“That’s so cute,” Bet said. “But no, it’s not scary. It’s a musical.”

“That’s scary, too,” Sarah said. “But that’s what I get for saying we can do whatever you want, huh?” 

“Yep,” Bet said, sighing contentedly. “And I’m gonna sing all the parts.”

“Great,” Sarah said, sure that if she told herself a month ago that she’d be cuddled up on some younger woman’s couch feeding her Chinese food and listening to her sing along to show tunes she wouldn’t believe a single part of it. 

She didn’t plan to ever admit it, but was actually incredibly entertaining to watch Bet try to balance eating with talking over the movie and singing every character’s songs as she promised. She would admit to liking the story more than she expected, but she didn't need to mention the warm glowing something or other that nestled in her chest each time Bet explained why she loved a scene or fired off some behind the scenes fact about the cast. When they finished eating she talked twice as much, but Sarah didn’t mind paying more attention to her than the plot. 

“You have a pretty voice,” Sarah said, sensing they were nearing the end of the film as Bet finished performing along with another song.

“Thanks,” Bet said, leaning back into the couch. “I miss singing sometimes, but there’s not really a reason to keep training or anything anymore.”

“Well, you can sing for me whenever you want,” Sarah said. “It’s nice.” 

“Are you just saying that?” Bet asked.

“I don’t just say anything, that’s your move,” Sarah said. “I think you made the whole movie better, I mean it.”

“Aw, thanks. This is already such a good day,” Bet said, smiling and curling a hand around Sarah’s arm as she scooted closer to her again. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Sarah said. 

“I’d be having even more fun if I got to have my surprise, I think,” Bet said, raising her eyebrows.

“Okay, you've been patient enough. Come on,” Sarah said, standing up from the couch. 

Bet hopped up, watching Sarah intently as she moved to lean against her kitchen island. 

“I didn’t wrap it,” Sarah said, presenting a nondescript box from inside her bag. 

Bet took it eagerly, her eyes curious as she lifted the top. 

“You really trust me with a knife?” Bet asked, setting the box on the counter so she could pick it up. 

“Of course not,” Sarah said. “But you probably need one on nights I’m not with you,” she added. 

“Yeah, I guess I might,” Bet said quietly. “It’s so pretty, how’d you even find something like this?”

“I know somebody,” Sarah shrugged. “And I told him you like roses, so he showed me that one. Now it’s like I got you flowers for real.”

“I cannot imagine you shopping for something for me, that’s crazy,” Bet said. “You even picked a pretty color, that’s so sweet.”

“Well, I took a guess,” Sarah said. “And red feels like you.”

The edge of Sarah’s mouth curved slightly, the smallest smile placing itself as an echo to the one beaming brightly on Bet’s face. 

“I’ll show you how to open and close it so you don’t do anything dumb on accident,” Sarah said, enamored to the point she’d almost forgotten Bet was fidgeting with something dangerous. “It springs open quick, but I figured you’d have somewhere safe to keep it.”

”Yeah, of course,” Bet said, still studying the handle’s design. “Can you show me how to open it?”

”Yeah, there’s something on the blade for you, too,” Sarah said, taking the knife from her. “You just unlock it with your thumb,” Sarah said, demonstrating a couple of times before passing it back to Bet carefully

“No way,” Bet said, her eyes locked on the delicate etching. “Did it come like this?”

”Of course not,” Sarah said. “I got it engraved.”

Choosing the handle had been easy, since Bet’s roses were still fresh in her mind when she’d spoken to the knifesmith, but the engraving took longer to come up with. Between the fonts, symbols, and settling on an actual phrase, Sarah almost decided to just put ‘Bet’ and leave it at that, but she knew she should try to be more creative. She’d never been much of a gift giver, even in the past when she’d loved openly, and anything involving permanent words felt heavier than if she were just to grab a box of chocolates like she’d already joked about. Bet deserved something heavy, though, and her face as she traced a finger over the blade’s inscription made it clear that Sarah made the right call: ‘Angel’ in a small, pretty script, situated beside an etched star.

”It’s perfect,” Bet said. “I don’t know what to say.”

She was making a face Sarah hadn’t seen on her before, one of pure appreciation and watery gratitude. It made her wish she could give her a gift every day just to see her reaction again and again. 

“I didn’t know you were so sentimental,” Sarah said, watching Bet’s bottom lip tremble as she turned the knife over in her hands. “I thought you were playing it up about the flowers to make me feel bad.”

“I mean, I was. A little,” Bet said, barely defensive. “But I just didn’t expect you to give me something so thoughtful.”

“I think about you so much as it is, it didn’t feel like a lot of work,” Sarah said. “And it’s not a big deal, anyway.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” Bet said. “Because it’s you.”

Sarah wasn’t sure if she’d ever wanted to kiss Bet more than in that moment, the earnest look in her eyes and the way she held the closed knife tightly against her chest like it had healing properties doing something to Sarah’s heart that felt painful to even pretend to ignore. 

“Come here,” Sarah said, grabbing Bet’s waist suddenly and lifting her onto the edge of the counter. She needed something, even just to trick her mind so she’d stop imagining taking Bet’s face in her hands and feeling the softness of her lips. “You want some kisses, baby?” 

“Always,” Bet said too quickly, setting her gift aside more gracefully than she needed to.

Sarah pushed the straps of her top off of her shoulders then moved the garment halfway down her chest, her hands returning to Bet’s waist as she leaned to kiss her neck. Bet held onto the counter, her head falling to one side as Sarah’s lips met her skin. 

“It’s cruel,” Bet sighed, Sarah’s tongue trailing briefly along the curve of her neck before she began kissing across her collarbone, “to get me all emotional and then tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” Sarah said, sucking harshly at her skin as Bet’s ankles hooked behind her. 

Bet whimpered, Sarah’s mouth moving lower and the shape of her lips pressing against her heartbeat in small, haphazard patterns. 

“A knife like that is practically jewelry, you know,” Bet murmured, moaning lightly as Sarah’s teeth latched on to her skin. “Especially since it's engraved. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Shut up,” Sarah murmured, biting her harder before licking over the indentations she’d left. 

Bet obeyed, exchanging her words for pleased sounds as Sarah made thorough work of kissing each unclothed inch of her chest that she could reach. Sarah could feel her trying to pull her closer with her legs, arching toward her. She imagined kissing her lips as she did nearly every time she touched her mouth to any part of Bet that wasn’t where she wanted it the most, hard and forceful or slow and indulgent but frustrating regardless. When Bet started sounding more strained than appreciative she pulled back, studying the new marks she’d made and rubbing up and down Bet’s sides.

“Sarah,” Bet whispered. “Please tell me you’re not just gonna leave me like this.”

“Like what?” Sarah asked, replacing the straps of Bet’s top and adjusting her neckline. 

“Feeling all romantic and fucking hot and bothered,” Bet laughed under her breath.

“I wasn’t planning to this time. Now, let’s go to your room so I can give you your other surprise,” Sarah said, helping Bet down from the counter. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

“I’ll always let you,” Bet said. “I wish you’d do it every day.”

“I know,” Sarah said. “But I’m doing it now, so go wait for me on the bed with your eyes closed.”

Sarah could tell Bet was peeking when she entered the bedroom but she pretended not to notice, walking past her to the bathroom with the bag she’d brought. 

“Get undressed for me,” Sarah instructed, the door cracked as she took off her own clothes. “And start playing with yourself like you do when I’m not here.”

“Can I open my eyes?” Bet called in response. 

“Not yet,” Sarah said. “Just do what I said.”

Sarah didn’t rush, only emerging when her harness sat snugly at her hips. She wasn’t disappointed by the view she returned to, Bet lying in the center of the bed with her hand between her legs and her lip between her teeth. 

“You can open now,” Sarah said, kneeling on the bed in front of Bet’s parted legs. 

“That’s what I was hoping you were doing in there,” Bet said when she opened her eyes, her hand slowing as her gaze lingered in distraction. 

“Is that right?” Sarah asked, stroking a hand over the length of silicone as she watched Bet’s half-committed motions. 

“Yeah,” Bet nodded. 

“And are you ready for me yet?” Sarah asked, already moving to part Bet's thighs further before she had time to answer.

“Fuck,” Bet whined as Sarah laid the toy against her stomach, showing off its size. “I don’t know what I expected.”

“It won’t be a problem, I know what you can take,” Sarah said. “But I swear I’ve heard you brag about riding big things, should I make you start on top instead?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Bet said, lifting her hips impatiently. “But it's huge, I-” 

“I already told you you're gonna take it, my little, breakable girl,” Sarah said, gazing down at Bet as she positioned herself to tease at her entrance. 

Bet’s eyes widened slightly and she whimpered, rolling her hips toward Sarah. It was so easy to get her to react, like certain words hypnotized her with desire. 

“Please,” Bet said, breathing hard. “I need it so bad.” 

“I know, baby,” Sarah said, sliding the tip of the toy through Bet’s wetness. “But I like making you wait.” 

“You like hearing me complain,” Bet murmured.

“Oh, a little,” Sarah said. “Not too much, though.”

Bet bit her bottom lip again, squirming as Sarah moved against her in another firm taunt. Sarah raked her eyes over her body, noticing every slight shift and heavy breath as she guided herself inside of her slowly. Bet moaned, her arms finding their way around Sarah's neck as she leaned closer.

"You want all of it, baby?" Sarah asked, Bet's lips dangerously close.

"Yes," Bet breathed, and Sarah pressed a soft kiss to her cheek as she obliged.

She didn't move quickly, which Bet protested in the form of trying to increase their shared rhythm with her own movements. Sarah moved one hand to her hip, pressing her into the mattress to still her as she continued stroking into her like she had all the time in the world. She couldn't help but wish she really did have infinite time with Bet like this, the air laced with her pretty, vulgar sounds. She kept up a steady pace, her own moans quiet as she felt the base of the toy against her each time she filled Bet. They didn't exchange many words, Bet's quiet exclamations melting between hitched breaths and the needy, desperate whines Sarah loved to pull out of her. It didn't feel the same as the first time she fucked her in her bed, less frantic and certainly less angry, and Sarah had the fleeting thought that at this point she didn't actually know what she preferred when it came to her. Bet didn't give her the chance to reach a conclusion, pulling herself so close to Sarah she nearly lifted herself off the bed with a demanding, frustrated whine. 

"What is it?" Sarah asked, her lips brushing Bet's neck.

"Put me on your lap," Bet said, her tone urgent. 

"Say please," Sarah said, her hand already abandoning Bet's hip so she could scoop her arm beneath her.

"Please," Bet mumbled. "Please, Sarah. Now."

Sarah maneuvered the two of them easily, slipping out of Bet as she sat back with her arm tightly around her. Bet raised onto her knees the moment she could find purchase, straddling Sarah's hips and running a hand back through the hair that had fallen in her face. She reached for Sarah's length, greedy as she lowered herself onto her quickly with a relieved moan. 

Sarah's hands gripped her waist as Bet held her shoulders, and the sight of her biting her lip in concentration as she moved like she was trying to get an award for her stamina almost made Sarah dizzy. 

"Oh, I was too slow for you, hm?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," Bet managed, short nails digging into Sarah's shoulders as she slammed down onto her again and again. "You were fucking me like you like me."

"You poor girl," Sarah said, one hand sliding down to draw back and swat hard at her ass. 

The gasp Sarah elicited and the way Bet's hips stuttered at the contact made her bring her palm against her skin once more, sharp and deliberate. 

"You should be more grateful," Sarah said over Bet's delayed whimper. "Say sorry."

"Sorry for being ungrateful," Bet gritted, still grinding herself against the base of the length inside her with each downward movement like it wasn't quite enough. 

"That's my girl," Sarah said, watching as Bet braced against the bed with a hand behind her and leaned back, her hair tossed to one side as she rolled her hips so expertly it was mesmerizing. 

Sarah's hands fell away when Bet shifted her position, and for a moment she just watched without touching her. She was performing, of course, and Sarah didn't want to interrupt the vision on display until she had to.

"Do you want to cum like this, pretty girl?" Sarah asked. "Or do you just want to keep showing off for me?"

Bet showed a glint of her teeth as she grinned, exquisitely mischievous. 

"Like this," Bet said, not breaking the cadence of her hips as Sarah reached to set a palm against her, her fingertips splaying over her.

Her thumb moved quickly across her clit, swiping and circling as Bet eventually lost the ability to keep up with herself and the pace she'd set. She slowed to a near-stop, breathing hard and watching Sarah's face as her stomach went taut.

"There you go," Sarah husked, a familiar trembling in Bet's legs as she moaned, her eyes squeezing shut. "Open," she commanded once she was sure the woman before her was pulsing and over the edge, taking her hand away to bring it across Bet's cheek instead with a sharp, satisfying sound. 

Something between a gasp and a yelp fell past Bet’s lips and she stared at Sarah wide-eyed, bucking toward her. 

"Oh, god," Bet breathed. 

"Yeah, angel?" Sarah teased, her thumb returning to where it was needed. 

Bet didn't answer, arching into the friction Sarah offered and chasing her nearly-interrupted, drawn out release. 

"Did you forget how to talk?" Sarah asked, shifting to pull out of Bet before taking her hand away so she could slap the toy against her. 

Bet flinched, sensitive and still catching her breath, and Sarah hummed. 

"I didn't forget," Bet managed, blinking up at her. "Just left the planet for a second."

"Well, come back to me and then get on the floor," Sarah said. "Sweet girls worship on their knees, don't they?"

Sarah moved to stand next to the bed, waiting for Bet to position herself at her feet. 

“Clean it,” Sarah said, using her hand to tap the slickened toy against Bet’s pinkened cheek. 

"You want me to lick myself off of you?" Bet asked. 

"Or suck, it's not like you've never tasted it before," Sarah said. "Go ahead."

Bet hummed, finding the tip with her mouth and looking up at Sarah as she took her in. 

“This is a good angle for you,” Sarah said. “Pretty, pretty girl.” 

Bet smiled around her, sliding her lips further and letting Sarah push at the back of her head. 

Sarah watched as Bet took her in deeper, small noises vibrating against the toy as more of the length disappeared.

“You aren’t getting it all,” Sarah said, pushing more firmly at the back of her head and watching Bet’s lashes flutter as she took her further into her mouth. “You can handle more, can’t you?” 

Bet moaned, and Sarah could tell when she’d reached a point she couldn’t pass. She knew she shouldn’t enjoy the sounds Bet was making as much as she did, especially when it sounded like she was really pushing herself, but she couldn’t help it as she tugged at her hair and started guiding her movements. She was eager, trying to take more of Sarah down her throat even without encouragement, and her eyes watering wasn’t an unwelcome sight. Sarah held her head still for a moment, then pushed her hips forward slightly.

“Such a good slut,” Sarah said. “You might be making more of a mess gagging and drooling like that, though.”

Bet pulled back slowly once Sarah let go of her head, spit dripping down her chin and her lips glistening. 

“Sorry,” Bet murmured. “I guess I just got excited.”

“Mm, that's okay. You did well,” Sarah said, stroking her hair gently as her free hand moved to loosen the straps of her harness. 

Bet looked famished as she stared ahead once Sarah was bare before her, her hands moving to grip at her hips. 

"You already know what to do, don't you?" Sarah asked, a hand at Bet's shoulder as she nuzzled against her. 

"Mhmm," Bet hummed, her face nestled between Sarah's thighs. 

"Then show me," Sarah said, her jaw clenched as she felt Bet's tongue. 

She tasted her slowly first, her mouth exploring with no lack of confidence. Sarah was egregiously worked up, responsive but restrained as Bet finally brought focus to her clit. Her attention was intoxicating, each movement of her tongue calculated as her fingertips dug into Sarah's skin. Sarah wasn't as quiet as usual, unable to hold back the noises she tried to keep deep down as Bet's lips latched onto her, her tongue flicking quickly as Sarah squeezed her shoulder. 

"You're perfect," Sarah mumbled, her free hand moving to tap at one of Bet's wrists. "Go ahead, I know you want to."

Bet understood, releasing her tight grip on her thigh and pressing two fingers against Sarah's entrance quickly. She sunk into her easily, curling and twisting her digits as she continued working with her mouth, and Sarah moaned. Bet echoed a noise like the shadow she was, always following along.

"So good," Sarah praised, holding the back of Bet's head again. 

Bet kept her fingers' movements slow but not shallow, her muffled noises sounding as though she was getting just as much pleasure as Sarah as she started lapping at her with quick yet broad strokes of her tongue. It was beautiful having her on her knees, and despite how much she wanted to make it last she couldn't help how well Bet demonstrated her appreciation in the form of deftly timed suction and licks that felt like too much and too little at the same time. It was exciting to know that she didn't need any instructions and just liked receiving them sometimes; Sarah could almost forget she was ever anything but how she was with her, performatively helpless but all too capable when she wished to be. She was tempted to tell her to slow down, but Bet was enjoying herself so much and she'd certainly earned the chance to see how quickly she could get Sarah off after putting on such a stunning show. 

"Ah, Bet," Sarah shuddered, letting go of her shoulder to hold her head with both hands as she clenched around her fingers and her knees shook. 

Bet hooked her fingers and pressed hard as Sarah came, only drawing them out when Sarah stopped pushing her face harder against her. She pressed a kiss to her before looking up, grinning as she licked at her fingers. 

"Good enough for my god, or should I go again?" Bet asked, tilting her head. 

"Mm," Sarah hummed, her fingers combing through Bet's hair. "More than good enough."

Bet shut her eyes, enjoying Sarah's soft touch for a moment before speaking again. 

"Want to clean up and go cuddle on the couch?" Bet asked, standing slowly from her spot on the floor. "I have hot towels if you don't want to do a whole shower." 

"Sure, you're back to being in charge of what we do today," Sarah said, letting Bet take her hand to lead her to the bathroom. 

When they were freshened up and dressed again, they retreated to the living room and Bet poured wine from a carafe.

"Since I'm in charge again, it's wine now," she said, smiling as she touched her glass to Sarah's in a toast. "It's the same kind we had on our date, since you said you didn't mind it."

"And how much did you buy just because I told you it wasn't bad?" Sarah asked. 

"Just a case," Bet said. 

"Of course," Sarah said, Bet's legs slung over her lap and Sarah's free arm around her waist. 

"Hey, I go through a lot of wine, sometimes that's the most practical option," Bet justified.

They'd only just gotten comfortable when Bet's phone vibrated on the coffee table, resulting in an irritated whine. 

"One sec," Bet said, detaching herself from Sarah and taking her cell along with her glass into the kitchen.

"Stop calling me," Bet hissed into the phone. "I can't talk right now."

Her body language had changed immediately upon answering and she set her wine glass down, gripping the edge of the counter with a scowl. "I don't care if there's a flight, I'm not on it. I'm staying here. I told them days ago to just cancel everything, but nobody fucking listens to me."

Sarah watched, only able to assume bits and pieces of what was being said on the other end of the call but putting together that it must have to do with whatever Bet said she was trying to take care of before seeing her again. She didn't know if Bet was having this conversation in front of her to prove something or if she was foolish enough to think Sarah wouldn't have questions after hearing a hardly-hushed fractal of a story, but since she wasn't being shooed away she kept listening.

"I didn't tell anyone to contact you, all of this was behind my back or without my input," Bet said, her tone clipped and precise. "I'm not getting on a plane, and I'm not coming back right now. I'm busy with Sarah, anyway. I'll tell them to take you off as my emergency contact since they don't know what counts as an emergency."

Bet frowned in every pause, and a small scoff left her mouth as she listened to the response. 

"It's an emergency to you and to them. I'm fine, and I'm staying," Bet said. She waited another beat, her eyes moving to Sarah and her eyes blinking wider. "Keep her fucking name out of your mouth. She didn't even know, and she wouldn't do that, anyway," Bet said. "It's all me, so be angry or whatever with me, but I'm not picking up any more of your calls and I'm not looking at your texts if it's just gonna be you begging for something I'm not willing to do. If someone really wants to show up here that's on them. Maybe it's fate, maybe it's what I deserve for just wanting to be free for a little bit--"

Bet took a breath, then her brows furrowed. 

"Why didn't you start with that?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "And why didn't anyone tell me? There's no way you'd need to know before me."

Sarah noticed Bet's empty glass, sensing she wanted it refilled when her hand flexed and half-reached for it. She got up and poured her refill then retreated to the couch again, watching from afar once more as she sipped at her own beverage. 

"Okay, well shit, I'm sorry for not knowing what 'there's something really important you might want to be here for' means," Bet said. "And yeah, I haven't been answering calls from the police because I thought they'd be asking the same dumb fucking questions again," she paused, still able to roll her eyes through her distress. "Look, I'll talk to my team, but I don't actually want to be there for it at all. I want to be far away, like I am now. I already checked, I don’t have to appear anywhere and if I do go back I have fucking crazy security lined up.” 

Bet took a long pull from her glass, set it down, and sighed with the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers and her eyes squeezed shut. 

"I'm not going to block you, I just…I can't be there. I'll check in more often if that will help, and I miss you, but I am not coming back just for that fucking shitshow. It’s fucked that you didn’t tell me that first, but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean for you to get wrapped up in any of this anyway, but I have to stay. Tell whoever called you to send me a new itinerary and I'll see if I can make it, but I'm not promising shit right now."

Another pause stretched as the person on the other end of the call responded, Bet's body frozen in place. 

"Okay. Love you, too. I'll talk to you tomorrow if I can."

When Bet finally hung up she looked terrified, like something small and afraid standing in the middle of a highway ready to be crushed by whatever bright, loud, heavy thing careened toward it. Sarah felt like the bright, loud, heavy thing, but she felt crushed, too. 

"Sarah, I'm so sorry," Bet said. 

"Explain what you need to be sorry for," Sarah said, calm despite the churning feeling that pushed at each part of her from the inside. 

"I'm scared to say it," Bet said. "Because I told you I was gonna be honest, and I couldn't.”

"Bet," Sarah said. "How bad is it?"

"I'm sorry," Bet said, panicked and lacking in whatever it was that always made her appear a step ahead. "I just thought I could fix it before I'd have to tell you," she added. "I didn't think it would still be a problem."

“All of this shit is too vague,” Sarah said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I just feel like I fucked up so bad,” Bet said, balling one hand into a fist and bringing it down hard against her counter. “Fuck.”

"Are you really going to make me interrogate you for real?" Sarah asked. "Because I can, and you won't like it."

"I already hate this," Bet said. “I fucking hate this conversation, Sarah. I made a mistake, and you’re right to be mad, but I can’t…”

Bet shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Are you too afraid to even sit with me?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," Bet said. "I just…I can't, I'm sorry."

"Fine. Who was on the phone?" Sarah asked, still observably calm and even-toned despite the feeling that everything was coming apart.

"My…it was Steph," Bet said. 

"The one who was texting and calling all night at the restaurant?" Sarah clarified. 

"Yes," Bet nodded, her hand shaking as she took another sip of her drink from where she stood. “She was my friend from the show, and we were…yeah, we were close.”

"What did she want from you that night?” Sarah asked. "And what do you mean by 'close'?"

"She was talking about some photos that came out, and some shit with my team back in LA," Bet said. "You weren't in the photos, but they were recent and they stayed up long enough for people to speculate on where I am. She was worried, we’d just talked for the first time since everything so she was keeping eyes on me or something. She was my castmate, and we…I don't know. We had a thing, but it's not like that anymore. She just cares."

"And you didn't think that was important to share with me?" Sarah asked. "I wouldn't have been mad at you, Bet, I'd take that seriously."

"It's not that I didn't think it was important, I just wanted it to go away," Bet said. "But everything was coming up right around the time I was supposed to leave, and I'd already pushed the date back."

Sarah felt herself go cold, then hot, then numb. It wasn't like it was an entire shock after what she'd heard Bet say on the phone, but she wanted to be wrong. Bet was supposed to be the one sticking around, and she was meant to leave her with the promise that someone so much better would come along to give Bet everything she needed. Every word they'd exchanged until now quivered and warped in her mind at the introduction of this new information, every memory they’d created so far scraping out more from the inside until Sarah felt empty in the pause before she spoke.

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, her stomach lurching. "You were planning to leave this whole time, and you didn't tell me?"

"Sarah," Bet said, her voice crackling slightly as her shoulders crumpled. "Please, believe me, I was going to say something soon."

"How can I believe you, Bet?" Sarah asked, standing up from the couch after tossing back the rest of her drink. "I asked you to tell the truth, you said you would, and then what happened? You forgot to mention you had a fucking flight booked already? That's what makes me mad, not that you're dealing with something scary."

"No, no, please," Bet said, hurrying over to Sarah as she started moving toward the foyer. "I'll explain, just please don't go."

"I'm leaving, I'll call a cab from outside and wait there," Sarah said. 

"No," Bet said, still blocking her way. "You can't leave."

"I'm not going to push you out of the way, if that's what you want," Sarah said. 

"Then just stay," Bet pleaded, reaching for her hand. Sarah hit her attempt to touch away without thinking, averting her eyes as tears threatened at Bet's lashes. 

"You're impossible," Sarah said, her arms now crossed and her chest uncomfortably tight. 

"I'll come sit with you if you stay and let me try to explain," Bet said, sounding as small as she looked standing barefoot in another overly large t-shirt that cloaked her form and made it easy for her to hide. She looked like a frustrating, deceptive ghost, floating but solid, sad and terrifying.

"I don't know why I should even give you the time," Sarah said. "But I honestly can't imagine what you have to say, so I guess I'll hear it."

Sarah turned and reluctantly sat back down on the couch, pouring her next glass of wine as Bet tucked her legs beneath herself and faced her. She looked like she was about to beg for forgiveness from God, and maybe in her mind she was. 

"I was only supposed to stay here for, like, seven months maximum," Bet said. "Because I was…well, my team and I were worried about my stalker finding me since he hadn't been caught and nothing was really being done. No movement on the case, no arrests, and I didn't feel safe staying in LA," Bet said. "I told you I rushed out here, that I was running-"

"Yeah, to reinvent yourself and get distance from what happened," Sarah said. "Then later you said you were sloppy when you moved out here so quick, but at no point did you say you had a deadline. The reason isn’t the part I’m not understanding.”

"How do you remember everything I say if you're always drinking when we talk?" Bet asked. 

"I was a detective, in case that slipped your mind," Sarah said. "It's easy to remember shit about people, especially when I care."

"Okay, yeah," Bet said, clearly resisting the urge to talk back any further. "I left out the deadline because I really didn't think anything was going to happen beyond, like, a great hookup," Bet said. "But things were going differently, and I was really into you. I am really into you, still," Bet said. "Like, in a way that makes me feel crazy and like I can't just go away."

"So, why didn't you warn me?" Sarah asked. "You were the one acting so scared and hurt over the idea that I might stop meeting up with you, then we fucked and you got even more upset because you wanted to be together, like a couple or something," Sarah said. "And you tried to guilt me and make me feel like shit for not committing and not wanting to make it too real or too serious knowing you were always going to leave. All the times we talked, how you acted so fucking grateful for my time and my attention…what was that?"

"I just…it went too fast," Bet said. "And once you decided I was the clingy one and you were the flighty one, I thought maybe I could be that for real, that I could like you enough to make myself stick around and then everything would be okay."

"That isn't how life works," Sarah said. 

"Don't you think I know that now?" Bet asked.

"I don't know, do you? Because you're only telling me now since you apparently missed your flight home,” Sarah said. "That's why I don't believe you were going to tell me 'soon', how could you if you had a ticket for today?"

"I wasn't going to go. I decided, like, the third time we talked," Bet said.

"It's cute that you have this whole timeline in your mind of making these fucking choices for reasons you thought made sense, but I wasn't looped in on any of them," Sarah said. "I didn't ask you to stay here and put yourself in danger for me, and I actually didn't ask you to sacrifice anything for me at all."

"I know you didn't ask, that's another reason I didn't tell you," Bet said. "Then it would put pressure on you, and I wasn't trying to-"

"Listen to yourself," Sarah said. "You were putting pressure on me from the second we met. Pressure to give you attention, to sleep with you, to kiss you, to be with you 'for real'...you think just because in your mind you didn't put a time limit on it for me, too, that means it was fair?"

"I was that desperate for you regardless of the timing," Bet said. 

"No, you wanted to squeeze a whole relationship in before getting out of here," Sarah said. "And I didn't play your game fast enough, and that's why you were so fucking mad at me during dinner," Sarah said. "And why you were so mad all the time, and pushy, and demanding…I thought it was because you were just that obsessed with me.”

"I was, and I still am,” Bet said. “I just…I couldn’t leave without getting to know what it felt like to actually be with you.”

“My god, Bet. I knew you were selfish and fucked up, but I'm kind of impressed. Acting all sad and pathetic about affection and wanting to be mine when you just needed to finish your checklist before getting on a plane," Sarah said, finding it difficult to even look at her. "At least you kept things surprising, I really thought I was the one dicking you around because I didn't want to get too attached and sabotage it all."

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Bet asked, her voice shaky “It shouldn’t change anything now that you know.”

“It changes everything,” Sarah said. “I was trying, Bet. I’m different with you than I am with anyone, and you don’t know me enough to notice how it’s a big fucking change. I saw myself trying, and I was going to keep trying, because whatever I feel for you is that strong.”

“But now you’re not gonna try anymore, hm? Because I’m leaving?” Bet asked, her eyes dull. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Sarah said. “You’d be upset with me if I left out of nowhere too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Of course I would,” Bet said. “But you already know how I feel about you, and I told you all the time I was scared you’d leave me.”

“I didn’t think I would have to tell you that,” Sarah said. 

“Is that really my fault?” Bet asked. “That you have to fuck me back into my place below you just to have enough of an upper hand that saying you like me or you want me or you care about me doesn’t freak you out?” 

“That’s not what I was doing,” Sarah said, but she wasn’t sure if she believed herself. 

They stared at each other, Sarah wishing she could just be angry instead of sad. She wished she could still even pretend to despise Bet, that she could yell at her or push her away and get up to leave in actuality, but it wasn't possible. 

“I know I could love you,” Bet said quietly. 

“Bet,” Sarah said, sighing. “Don’t.”

She knew she wouldn’t listen, but she at least had to make it clear she wasn’t dying to hear whatever Bet was about to say. 

“Did you think you could love me, too?” Bet asked, the look on her face so painfully warped with sadness Sarah had to look away. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said, the word sticking in her throat. “I probably already started.”

Bet nodded, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. 

“You say that like you can’t now,” she said, sniffling.

“I don’t know what I can do anymore,” Sarah said, her shoulders heavy. “But you can at least come here.”

“I don’t know if I should,” Bet said. “If you don’t hold me like how you did before, it’s gonna kill me.”

It never seemed appealing to withhold what little she could give Bet when the reality of her fears painted her face so blatantly. Sarah felt somewhat betrayed and like the air had been punched out of her lungs, absolutely, but Bet hadn’t acted with malice. She was a carefully contained wreck, trying to a fault to keep her issues granular and swirling like some kind of tragic snow globe instead of letting anything settle. Sarah knew now how much she'd shaken her up and fucked with her whole plan, and as much as she wanted this to change how she felt and give her the clean break she’d been asking for in the beginning, she couldn’t act like she didn’t want to find a way to circumvent something that sounded inevitable now.

“I’ll hold you, baby,” Sarah said. “I can't make myself like being away from you even if I say that's what I want.”

Bet shifted on the couch so she could climb onto Sarah, straddling her for closeness instead of as a ploy to distract her from her anger. She smelled exactly the same as before everything changed, faintly like the two of them combined, and she felt so soft and unassuming for someone capable of such enormous chaos in a short time. She was just as warm as she was in bed, and she fit as perfectly on Sarah’s lap as she always did when Sarah wrapped her arms around her and cradled the back of her head. Bet tucked her face into her neck and cried, clinging to Sarah's shirt like a lifeline.

“You’ve been through too much,” Sarah murmured, pressing her lips to the side of her head. “It’s okay that you go about it all wrong sometimes, there’s no way to do it right. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you, or why you do the things you do, but I know it’s not all your fault.”

“I could have done this better, though,” Bet said, her voice tear-stained. “I could have just told you everything, but I was trying to be…I don’t know. I thought I could change everything, and change me, and make everything work.”

“That’s why you’re my stupid, naive girl,” Sarah said, stroking her hair gently. “You think the whole world is gonna bend to your will.”

“Shouldn’t it, after everything?” Bet asked.

“Of course it should,” Sarah said. “But it won’t, and sometimes people get hurt.”

“I didn’t think I could ever hurt you,” Bet said. 

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to know you could,” Sarah said. “But you did, so good on you for being so extraordinary.”

A small almost-laugh puffed against Sarah's neck, and she felt less aching in her chest just for a moment.

“I think I’m just mad at everything,” Bet said, her voice soft like if it got too loud something would explode. “It made it easier when I could pretend I was only mad at you,” she added. “And maybe keeping something from you made me feel powerful or something, like I had control. It’s not an excuse, I just…I really wasn’t trying to hurt you like that on purpose.”

“That’s why I can’t actually make myself leave,” Sarah said. “You were protecting yourself, I get that.”

“I just feel like such an idiot,” Bet said. 

“You fucked up, but it’s not really about me,” Sarah said. “I don’t know everything that happened, but it’s bigger than whatever you feel about me.”

“It’s not that I don’t understand that,” Bet said. “But I just wanted a win, you know?”

“There aren’t any winners in this world,” Sarah said in no attempt to be cynical despite how it sounded. “Everybody loses something.”

“But I don’t want to lose you,” Bet said, her tears making a strained, painful-sounding return. “I lost so much already.”

“I know,” Sarah said. “And I'm sorry for that."

“Yeah, but you were gonna walk out today,” Bet said, her tears dripping down Sarah’s neck and soaking the collar of her shirt. "You wanted to leave me."

“Not forever, though,” Sarah said. “I just thought I might need some time, but I couldn’t do it. Not when I don't know how much time we have left.” 

“Steph told me they found someone," Bet said quietly, sniffling. "Like, they arrested some guy," she continued, as though it wasn't major news. Sarah tried not to think about how wrong it was for Bet to be more worried about their relationship than the trauma that brought her here in the first place. She didn't even seem relieved, just exhausted. "That's why everyone is pushing even harder for me to go back. The flight was booked ages ago, but I just now lost my excuse to stay here. I was supposed to go back even if they didn't find him and just lay low, not take any work, keep security around…It wasn't realistic, but now I don't know how to justify hiding."

"You can justify it however you want," Sarah said, sighing. 

"This is the first time I've been even slightly on my own without a schedule and a million people telling me what to do every moment of the day in, like, forever," Bet said. "I'm overwhelmed, Sarah. I can't keep explaining to them that I just feel better being far away from it all."

"It's okay, angel," Sarah said, holding Bet closer. "Maybe it'll be nice to be back with your friend."

"I want to be here with you," Bet said. “I want to actually have a chance.”

"And I want that, too, but if it's not in the cards you can't force it," Sarah said. "We were fucked from the start, even you're smart enough to realize that." 

"What does this mean for us, then?" Bet asked. "I just leave and I never get to see you again?"

"I'd see you again," Sarah said. "How long do you have now?"

"I don't know," Bet said. "I can’t…I don’t want to leave when everything’s such a mess, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay.” 

"Then, I guess it means we have tonight, then we'll see," Sarah said. 

Bet nodded, and Sarah lost track of how long she spent crying in her arms. She didn't cry herself, but she felt like she wanted to, and that was somehow worse. No relief, just Bet shaking against her as the sky darkened outside and tomorrow started to feel like it would arrive much too soon.