fic: mango ic cream part 4
...wherein Abby & Neela get their groove out, hardcore style.
Mango Ice Cream
Part 4-- Wherein Abby & Neela show their colors & seriously rock out.
By JewWitch
Okay, so…it seems that Abby wants to remind me what a badass she is right now, and Neela agrees that it’s time for some fun, so…New Year’s is coming a little early. I know I’m skipping Christmas; basically that’s cause I don’t care, not being Christian, and neither does Neela. Abby doesn’t mind as long as I let her get her swerve on!
Rating: R
Note: It suddenly occurs to me, I don't know the name of Ray's band...has it ever actually been mentioned on the show? Well, I'm going to give them an appropriate name here; if anyone knows the real one, tell me and I'll go back and change it later.
************************************************************************
“I still can’t believe you headlocked that guy,” Abby smirked as she trailed her fingers down Neela’s bare arm, their legs entwined in a tangle beneath the blankets.
“Why not?” Neela asked, one eyebrow cocked sharply.
“I just thought I was gonna be the butch one,” Abby shrugged with an innocent grin.
“Ah, but I’ve got the brass cojones,” Neela reminded her, propping herself up on one elbow. “Have you forgotten already?”
“How could I, when you’re running around tackling 250 lb. guys?” Abby replied seriously. “I absolutely love that you would do something that stupid for me…though, I kind of wish you hadn’t. If you’d gotten hurt…”
“Oh, you would’ve done the exact same thing, Abby, so don’t what if me."
"'Kay," Abby grinned. "So, I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me, but...what are you doing for New Year's?"
"Well actually..." Neela flushed and looked up at Abby from beneath her lashes, looking both shy and eager at the same time. "A few weeks back, Ray heard me playing my viola in my room, and ever since he's been on me to sit in with his band for a gig...he's asked me to play with them at a club New Year's Eve. I was hoping you'd come along."
"Viola?" Abby looked at her as if she had said she'd be playing a rubber saw. "In a rock band?"
"Electric viola," Neela clarified. "Heaven only knows where he got it, but...yeah."
"Wicked," Abby smirked. "You're just trying all kinds of new things these days, aren't you?"
"How d'you mean?"
"Um...hello?" Abby waved her hand to indicate their intimate position.
"Oh...did you think I'd never shagged a girl before?"
"Neela!" Abby gasped. Neela was grinning delightedly.
"Chock full of surprises, aren't I?"
"You certainly are..." Abby shook her head. "Okay, dish."
"Well..." Neela began with a sigh, "My first semester at Yale, one of my best mates was from Manhattan, and since I couldn't go all the way back to London for Thanksgiving break, she brought me home with her. She took me out clubbing one night, and we got fantastically drunk..." Neela looked up at Abby hesitantly then, nervous she might offend the other woman after her long struggle with alcohol abuse.
"Neela, it's okay," Abby said gently. "Not everyone who's ever been drunk is a drunk. You're certainly not a drunk. I'm not going to judge you, okay?"
"Right," Neela swallowed. "Well, we went to a spot called the Clit Club..."
"The Clit Club?" Abby repeated incredulously.
"Uh-huh." Neela grinned rakishly. "Anyway, I was eighteen, completely free for the first time in my life, and a randy little bugger to top it off...I'd been kissed a few times, but I'd never even made out with anyone properly."
"So..."
"So, my friend, Lucia, she was...you know..." Neela faltered, an adorably flustered look on her face.
"No, Neela, I don't know. She was what? Gay? Hot? Coming on to you?"
"All of those, actually," Neela nodded, smirking with renewed confidence. "I remember the band that was playing...they were this lesbian punk rock group called Antigone Rising, and between the music and the vodka and all those women grinding in that sweaty mosh pit, I just...didn't feel scared of anything. And, Lucia, she was fit...loads of curly dark hair, bright blue eyes, a smattering of freckles just across the bridge of her nose..." Neela paused and looked significantly at Abby. "She doesn't hold a candle to you, of course."
"Oh, stop flattering me," Abby said with a roll of her eyes. "It's cheap."
"I'm not," Neela said seriously. Abby looked back at her doubtfully, a tiny furrow appearing in the middle of her forehead. "You..." Neela reached out and took Abby's face in her hands, kissing her softly. "Are the most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on...I couldn't dream up anything more delicious." They looked at each other for a moment, and then moved in at the same time for another, longer kiss. When they pulled apart, Abby held Neela's lower lip between her teeth, drawing it out until it snapped back.
"Right back atcha," she murmured, in a low, smoky voice.
"Uh...right..." Neela stammered for a moment, flushed and breathing heavy.
"So, Lucia?" Abby prodded.
"Right!" Neela nodded vigorously. "Lucia...well, she was on me all night, dancing with me, teasing me...she wasn't exactly aggressive, but she made it clear that she wanted me...she made me feel so damned sexy."
"You say that like it's difficult," Abby snorted.
"It was, then."
"How is that possible? Have you seen you, Neela?" The dark-skinned girl grinned shyly and looked down at her hands.
"I'm much more secure now than I was ten years ago," she said softly.
"You ought to be, for Christ's sake...you're a fucking goddess." Neela grinned at Abby's vehemence.
"Anyway," she pressed on, "one thing led to another, and next thing I knew, we were locked in the bathroom doing things I hadn't even read about."
"Neela!" Abby laughed. "Your first time was in a nightclub bathroom?" Neela slowly nodded, with a wide, toothy grin. "You little slag," Abby admonished teasingly.
"Careful..." Neela wagged a finger. "We haven't heard the story of your first time yet, have we?" That shut Abby up quickly and effectively. "Right. Well, all that week in New York, we were at it like minxes...it was wild, I was completely outside of myself, of everything I'd ever been up till then."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to Yale, and she wanted to carry on the way we'd been going...and, well, for me, it had just been a lovely vacation. I didn't want a relationship; hell, I didn't have the foggiest idea how to even have one. I was far too serious about my studies to make the time, in any event. Plus, I had only been out of my parents' house a few months...couldn't allow for the possibility that I'd ever be with someone they wouldn't approve of."
"And is that the woman part, or the not-Indian part?"
"Both, of course."
"Of course." They grinned at each other. "You're a little heartbreaker, Neela Rasgotra."
"I didn't mean to be," Neela said softly, and there was a wash of genuine regret in her eyes. "I just...I had no bloody idea she was going to fall in love with me like that. After we came back to school, and I wouldn't go out with her, she got flaming mad at me, and moved out of the dorm, to the other side of campus...after that, we just stopped being mates. I felt right crummy about it, actually."
"Aww, that really sucks, babe...but I'd be a total hypocrite if I said I didn't understand how she felt."
"How d'you mean?" Abby looked at her incredulously for a moment.
"Neela, why do you think I kicked you out last year?" Neela looked genuinely flabbergasted. "I just couldn't stand having you so close, and not having you at the same time...it was constant torture."
"Why didn't you ever have a go at me, then?"
"Honestly? I didn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell."
"...Likewise," Neela laughed, and they grinned at each other for a moment over their shared stupidity.
"And then after what happened with those gang kids..." Abby sighed, and Neela reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Everybody was just so nice and polite; it took every ounce of strength I had to be polite back...and then to come home and have you there, being polite, too...I just...I wanted you to throw your arms around me, and tell me you wouldn't let me get lost." Neela looked deeply into Abby's eyes, reaching out again to hold the brunette's face firmly in her hands.
"I will never let you get lost, Abby." Abby laughed, and then suddenly found that she was crying. Neela threw her arms around Abby's slim shoulders, holding her fiercely. They stayed that way for a few minutes, rocking gently. Then Neela pulled back, gently wiping Abby's damp cheeks. "So...will you come out with me for New Year's, pet?"
"Do I get to be your groupie?"
****************************************
When Abby arrived at the Iron Horse Music Hall a little after 9pm, she found that her name had been put on the guest list, and she didn't have to pay. She was also given a special stamp that would allow her backstage access, though she doubted she'd use it-- Neela had specifically asked her not to come back before the show, saying it would "ruin the effect" for her. Abby wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she suspected it had more to do with nerves than anything else, and she was secure enough to honor Neela's request without getting out of sorts about it. Going up to the crowded bar, Abby ordered a diet coke and leaned back against the bar on her elbows, sussing the place out. It was a smallish spot, but very popular; she'd been here before, years ago, during the time in her life that was now mostly a blur. Looking around at the crowd, she figured she might well be the oldest person there. Somehow, though, the thought didn't actually make her feel old; it made her feel younger, the same way she felt with Neela. The fact that she could so easily blend in with this mass of twentysomethings and college students made her feel as if she'd shed off an old layer of skin, like a snake, and underneath was the fresh and shiny girl she hadn't lost, after all.
And she certainly looked the part; decked out in a pair of ripped up, very tight jeans, black combat boots, and shiny black halter top that laced up the back, she had already gotten plenty of appreciative stares from her fellow partygoers, both boys and girls. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten up in her party makeup, either-- she'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to have glittery eyes and ruby-red lips. Pleased with herself, with the club, the entire city buzzing around her, Abby tapped a cigarette out of her pack, holding it between her lips while she searched her pockets for a lighter. Before she'd found one, a light was being held in front of her, attached to a hand which was attached to the arm of a boy who couldn't be a day over twenty.
"Pretty girls should never light their own cigarettes," He said smoothly. Abby looked at him impassively for a moment, then leaned forward slightly and allowed the flicker of flame to touch the end of her Parliament.
"Thanks," she said demurely, blowing the smoke out sideways.
"So what's a sweet thing like you doing here all on her own?" The boy pressed on, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.
"I'm not alone," Abby shrugged, suppressing a snort of laughter at the young man's crestfallen expression. "I'm with the band."
"Oh...nice. I've heard them play here before, they really rock hard. You with Ray?" At that, Abby did laugh, leaning forward and slapping her thigh. "So that's a no, huh?"
At that moment, a swell of screaming and applause surged up around them, as an emcee walked onto the stage sporting a blue mohawk and a shirt that actually seemed to be made of duct tape. Abby couldn't help thinking, fleetingly, how glad she was not to be working tonight.
"Are you ready to rock 2006, Chicago?" A thunderous roar erupted. "All right! We've got a tasty treat for you tonight, kids. Local legend Greasefire is in the house!" More shrieks, and a mass of foot stamping that Abby could feel vibrating up her legs through the floor. "And as an added bonus for your eyes and ears, we have the lovely miss Neela Rasgotra sitting in on electric viola!"
As the crowd continued to shriek and the band took the stage, Abby felt a swell of pride. When her eyes fell on Neela, strutting on stage with her viola dangling from her hand, the feeling quickly morphed into something else. Abby felt as if she were simultaneously melting and dissolving, and for a moment she actually considered the possibility that someone had slipped something into her drink. But no; it was the sight of Neela, dressed in a torn plaid skirt that looked like it was probably left over from her high school uniform, cut short and jagged across her thighs, over a pair of black knee-high Doc Martens done up in British flag laces. Above her skirt was six inches of smooth brown skin, her bellybutton hovering neatly halfway between the skirt and a tight red t-shirt that said ANIMAL in bold print across the top, with a graphic of the crazy red Muppet underneath. A chain-link belt was slung low across her hips, and her hair was pulled back into two high pigtails, pulled only halfway through the elastic bands so that they made two fat loops of curls on either side of her head, tied with red ribbons. The final touch was Neela's punk rock makeup, her enormous eyes lined heavily in kohl black, with lips to match.
"Holy shit," Abby gasped, as all her blood rushed south, making her slightly woozy.
"I know!" She had completely forgotten about the overeager boy seated next to her. "Man, cut me a slice of that!"
"That's my girlfriend, asswipe." The red-faced boy's jaw dropped.
"Niiiiiiice."
As the band all took their positions, Neela perched on a stool and settled herself, her eyes squinting out into the crowd, obviously unable to see past the lights. Abby grinned, and slowly began worming her way closer to the front. When the music started, though, she temporarily lost the ability to press forward, her eyes drawn magnetically back to the stage and Neela. The viola wasn't introduced right away; at first it was just a heavy baseline, drums, and Ray's guitar, thrumming together with surprising grace. Abby realized she hadn't expected them to actually be good; not this good, anyway. But they were. The throbbing bass felt as if it were playing inside Abby's chest, loosening all her muscles and joints like some kind of telekinetic shiatsu massage. Her hips began to sway as her eyes were drawn again to Neela, eyes closed, rocking gracefully to the same rhythm with one foot dangling off the tall stool. Then, she raised her viola to her chin, cradling it on her shoulder almost tenderly as she raised the bow in her other hand. When it touched the strings, the smooth shift in the music was flawless, the blue spotlights deepening to purple to compliment the richness of her long, saturated tones. Abby was totally transfixed; she couldn't take her eyes off Neela. Neither could anyone else, it seemed. Abby was thrown by the surging of the crowd, and with renewed determination began pushing her way forward, until her stomach was pressed against the edge of the stage.
Neela didn't open her eyes once. It wasn't as if she were playing the music; it was as if she was actually becoming the music. It flowed out of her like her body was changing its chemical composition, muscle and bone evaporating into endless, slender notes. Abby remembered what she'd said the first morning they'd woken up together; when she'd told Neela she looked like a song.
With a jolt, Abby realized the set was over; all around her was screaming and stamping and the tang of sweat and smoke. Neela took an old-fashioned curtsey, which somehow made her look even more punk and irreverent than ever. Looking down, she suddenly caught Abby's eye, and, grinning delightedly, gave her a saucy and very obvious wink, causing an eruption of hoots and whistles all around her. But Abby wasn't bothered by it; she felt elated. The sensation of three hundred people standing behind her, all of them screaming for Neela, her Neela, gave her the same heady feeling of pride that she'd had when first the band had taken the stage. She was glad, now, that she had gotten that special stamp, as she elbowed her way through the rowdy crowd to the entrance to the backstage area.
Finding her way to the green room, Abby leaned in the doorway for a moment, just watching Neela talking and laughing excitedly with Ray and his bandmates. They were all slapping her on the back, and one of them handed her what looked like a joint. Abby was surprised, though not angry, to see Neela accept it without batting an eyelash, holding it to her black-rimmed lips between pinched fingers. Then she looked up and saw Abby watching her, and a broad, sultry grin blossomed on her face. She held out her arm and crooked one finger, beckoning Abby toward her.
"Hey, rockstar," Abby greeted her, kneeling on the couch next to Neela and throwing one leg over her hips, straddling her.
"Hey groupie," Neela giggled, reaching out and tangling her hand in Abby's sweat-dampened hair. "Looks as if you're enjoying yourself, then?"
"Enjoying you," Abby corrected her, leaning in and kissing her thoroughly, enjoying the sweet flavor of the pot on Neela's breath. "Along with everybody else here." Neela grinned and dropped her head on Abby's shoulder.
"You're having me on," she drawled, her hands winding around to stroke Abby's bare back between the laces of her halter top.
"No way, babe," Abby shook her head. "You're the hottest thing in this club, and everybody knows it. Tell her, Ray." Abby leaned back on Neela's legs, glancing to the equally punked-out undercover doctor across the room.
"You were fucking hot, Neela," Ray said easily. "You ever wanna join the band for real, you just let me know." He took in the sight of the two of them entwined on the couch, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Do you know how much money I could make if I had a camera right now?"
"Not enough to cover the medical expenses you'd have afterwards," Abby deadpanned. Ray chuckled.
"C'mon, you two should come along to our after-hours...it's gonna be wicked." Neela and Abby looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Love to," Neela said with a wink. "Can we just have five minutes?" Her back arched with a small gasp of surprise when Abby twisted her fingers sharply. "Uh-- twenty minutes," Neela amended, flushing as Abby crawled off her and offered her a hand. Grinning, Abby led Neela back through the crowd, which would've been difficult enough even without the adoration being thrown at Neela by every drunken idiot they passed, but somehow they made it across the floor, to a paint-splattered door marked ladies.
"Wanna be eighteen again?" Abby murmured rakishly, gripping Neela's hand tight and nibbling lightly on her ear.
"I think I already am," Neela giggled, opening the door and pulling Abby in behind her.
Mango Ice Cream
Part 4-- Wherein Abby & Neela show their colors & seriously rock out.
By JewWitch
Okay, so…it seems that Abby wants to remind me what a badass she is right now, and Neela agrees that it’s time for some fun, so…New Year’s is coming a little early. I know I’m skipping Christmas; basically that’s cause I don’t care, not being Christian, and neither does Neela. Abby doesn’t mind as long as I let her get her swerve on!
Rating: R
Note: It suddenly occurs to me, I don't know the name of Ray's band...has it ever actually been mentioned on the show? Well, I'm going to give them an appropriate name here; if anyone knows the real one, tell me and I'll go back and change it later.
************************************************************************
“I still can’t believe you headlocked that guy,” Abby smirked as she trailed her fingers down Neela’s bare arm, their legs entwined in a tangle beneath the blankets.
“Why not?” Neela asked, one eyebrow cocked sharply.
“I just thought I was gonna be the butch one,” Abby shrugged with an innocent grin.
“Ah, but I’ve got the brass cojones,” Neela reminded her, propping herself up on one elbow. “Have you forgotten already?”
“How could I, when you’re running around tackling 250 lb. guys?” Abby replied seriously. “I absolutely love that you would do something that stupid for me…though, I kind of wish you hadn’t. If you’d gotten hurt…”
“Oh, you would’ve done the exact same thing, Abby, so don’t what if me."
"'Kay," Abby grinned. "So, I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me, but...what are you doing for New Year's?"
"Well actually..." Neela flushed and looked up at Abby from beneath her lashes, looking both shy and eager at the same time. "A few weeks back, Ray heard me playing my viola in my room, and ever since he's been on me to sit in with his band for a gig...he's asked me to play with them at a club New Year's Eve. I was hoping you'd come along."
"Viola?" Abby looked at her as if she had said she'd be playing a rubber saw. "In a rock band?"
"Electric viola," Neela clarified. "Heaven only knows where he got it, but...yeah."
"Wicked," Abby smirked. "You're just trying all kinds of new things these days, aren't you?"
"How d'you mean?"
"Um...hello?" Abby waved her hand to indicate their intimate position.
"Oh...did you think I'd never shagged a girl before?"
"Neela!" Abby gasped. Neela was grinning delightedly.
"Chock full of surprises, aren't I?"
"You certainly are..." Abby shook her head. "Okay, dish."
"Well..." Neela began with a sigh, "My first semester at Yale, one of my best mates was from Manhattan, and since I couldn't go all the way back to London for Thanksgiving break, she brought me home with her. She took me out clubbing one night, and we got fantastically drunk..." Neela looked up at Abby hesitantly then, nervous she might offend the other woman after her long struggle with alcohol abuse.
"Neela, it's okay," Abby said gently. "Not everyone who's ever been drunk is a drunk. You're certainly not a drunk. I'm not going to judge you, okay?"
"Right," Neela swallowed. "Well, we went to a spot called the Clit Club..."
"The Clit Club?" Abby repeated incredulously.
"Uh-huh." Neela grinned rakishly. "Anyway, I was eighteen, completely free for the first time in my life, and a randy little bugger to top it off...I'd been kissed a few times, but I'd never even made out with anyone properly."
"So..."
"So, my friend, Lucia, she was...you know..." Neela faltered, an adorably flustered look on her face.
"No, Neela, I don't know. She was what? Gay? Hot? Coming on to you?"
"All of those, actually," Neela nodded, smirking with renewed confidence. "I remember the band that was playing...they were this lesbian punk rock group called Antigone Rising, and between the music and the vodka and all those women grinding in that sweaty mosh pit, I just...didn't feel scared of anything. And, Lucia, she was fit...loads of curly dark hair, bright blue eyes, a smattering of freckles just across the bridge of her nose..." Neela paused and looked significantly at Abby. "She doesn't hold a candle to you, of course."
"Oh, stop flattering me," Abby said with a roll of her eyes. "It's cheap."
"I'm not," Neela said seriously. Abby looked back at her doubtfully, a tiny furrow appearing in the middle of her forehead. "You..." Neela reached out and took Abby's face in her hands, kissing her softly. "Are the most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on...I couldn't dream up anything more delicious." They looked at each other for a moment, and then moved in at the same time for another, longer kiss. When they pulled apart, Abby held Neela's lower lip between her teeth, drawing it out until it snapped back.
"Right back atcha," she murmured, in a low, smoky voice.
"Uh...right..." Neela stammered for a moment, flushed and breathing heavy.
"So, Lucia?" Abby prodded.
"Right!" Neela nodded vigorously. "Lucia...well, she was on me all night, dancing with me, teasing me...she wasn't exactly aggressive, but she made it clear that she wanted me...she made me feel so damned sexy."
"You say that like it's difficult," Abby snorted.
"It was, then."
"How is that possible? Have you seen you, Neela?" The dark-skinned girl grinned shyly and looked down at her hands.
"I'm much more secure now than I was ten years ago," she said softly.
"You ought to be, for Christ's sake...you're a fucking goddess." Neela grinned at Abby's vehemence.
"Anyway," she pressed on, "one thing led to another, and next thing I knew, we were locked in the bathroom doing things I hadn't even read about."
"Neela!" Abby laughed. "Your first time was in a nightclub bathroom?" Neela slowly nodded, with a wide, toothy grin. "You little slag," Abby admonished teasingly.
"Careful..." Neela wagged a finger. "We haven't heard the story of your first time yet, have we?" That shut Abby up quickly and effectively. "Right. Well, all that week in New York, we were at it like minxes...it was wild, I was completely outside of myself, of everything I'd ever been up till then."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to Yale, and she wanted to carry on the way we'd been going...and, well, for me, it had just been a lovely vacation. I didn't want a relationship; hell, I didn't have the foggiest idea how to even have one. I was far too serious about my studies to make the time, in any event. Plus, I had only been out of my parents' house a few months...couldn't allow for the possibility that I'd ever be with someone they wouldn't approve of."
"And is that the woman part, or the not-Indian part?"
"Both, of course."
"Of course." They grinned at each other. "You're a little heartbreaker, Neela Rasgotra."
"I didn't mean to be," Neela said softly, and there was a wash of genuine regret in her eyes. "I just...I had no bloody idea she was going to fall in love with me like that. After we came back to school, and I wouldn't go out with her, she got flaming mad at me, and moved out of the dorm, to the other side of campus...after that, we just stopped being mates. I felt right crummy about it, actually."
"Aww, that really sucks, babe...but I'd be a total hypocrite if I said I didn't understand how she felt."
"How d'you mean?" Abby looked at her incredulously for a moment.
"Neela, why do you think I kicked you out last year?" Neela looked genuinely flabbergasted. "I just couldn't stand having you so close, and not having you at the same time...it was constant torture."
"Why didn't you ever have a go at me, then?"
"Honestly? I didn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell."
"...Likewise," Neela laughed, and they grinned at each other for a moment over their shared stupidity.
"And then after what happened with those gang kids..." Abby sighed, and Neela reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Everybody was just so nice and polite; it took every ounce of strength I had to be polite back...and then to come home and have you there, being polite, too...I just...I wanted you to throw your arms around me, and tell me you wouldn't let me get lost." Neela looked deeply into Abby's eyes, reaching out again to hold the brunette's face firmly in her hands.
"I will never let you get lost, Abby." Abby laughed, and then suddenly found that she was crying. Neela threw her arms around Abby's slim shoulders, holding her fiercely. They stayed that way for a few minutes, rocking gently. Then Neela pulled back, gently wiping Abby's damp cheeks. "So...will you come out with me for New Year's, pet?"
"Do I get to be your groupie?"
****************************************
When Abby arrived at the Iron Horse Music Hall a little after 9pm, she found that her name had been put on the guest list, and she didn't have to pay. She was also given a special stamp that would allow her backstage access, though she doubted she'd use it-- Neela had specifically asked her not to come back before the show, saying it would "ruin the effect" for her. Abby wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she suspected it had more to do with nerves than anything else, and she was secure enough to honor Neela's request without getting out of sorts about it. Going up to the crowded bar, Abby ordered a diet coke and leaned back against the bar on her elbows, sussing the place out. It was a smallish spot, but very popular; she'd been here before, years ago, during the time in her life that was now mostly a blur. Looking around at the crowd, she figured she might well be the oldest person there. Somehow, though, the thought didn't actually make her feel old; it made her feel younger, the same way she felt with Neela. The fact that she could so easily blend in with this mass of twentysomethings and college students made her feel as if she'd shed off an old layer of skin, like a snake, and underneath was the fresh and shiny girl she hadn't lost, after all.
And she certainly looked the part; decked out in a pair of ripped up, very tight jeans, black combat boots, and shiny black halter top that laced up the back, she had already gotten plenty of appreciative stares from her fellow partygoers, both boys and girls. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten up in her party makeup, either-- she'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to have glittery eyes and ruby-red lips. Pleased with herself, with the club, the entire city buzzing around her, Abby tapped a cigarette out of her pack, holding it between her lips while she searched her pockets for a lighter. Before she'd found one, a light was being held in front of her, attached to a hand which was attached to the arm of a boy who couldn't be a day over twenty.
"Pretty girls should never light their own cigarettes," He said smoothly. Abby looked at him impassively for a moment, then leaned forward slightly and allowed the flicker of flame to touch the end of her Parliament.
"Thanks," she said demurely, blowing the smoke out sideways.
"So what's a sweet thing like you doing here all on her own?" The boy pressed on, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.
"I'm not alone," Abby shrugged, suppressing a snort of laughter at the young man's crestfallen expression. "I'm with the band."
"Oh...nice. I've heard them play here before, they really rock hard. You with Ray?" At that, Abby did laugh, leaning forward and slapping her thigh. "So that's a no, huh?"
At that moment, a swell of screaming and applause surged up around them, as an emcee walked onto the stage sporting a blue mohawk and a shirt that actually seemed to be made of duct tape. Abby couldn't help thinking, fleetingly, how glad she was not to be working tonight.
"Are you ready to rock 2006, Chicago?" A thunderous roar erupted. "All right! We've got a tasty treat for you tonight, kids. Local legend Greasefire is in the house!" More shrieks, and a mass of foot stamping that Abby could feel vibrating up her legs through the floor. "And as an added bonus for your eyes and ears, we have the lovely miss Neela Rasgotra sitting in on electric viola!"
As the crowd continued to shriek and the band took the stage, Abby felt a swell of pride. When her eyes fell on Neela, strutting on stage with her viola dangling from her hand, the feeling quickly morphed into something else. Abby felt as if she were simultaneously melting and dissolving, and for a moment she actually considered the possibility that someone had slipped something into her drink. But no; it was the sight of Neela, dressed in a torn plaid skirt that looked like it was probably left over from her high school uniform, cut short and jagged across her thighs, over a pair of black knee-high Doc Martens done up in British flag laces. Above her skirt was six inches of smooth brown skin, her bellybutton hovering neatly halfway between the skirt and a tight red t-shirt that said ANIMAL in bold print across the top, with a graphic of the crazy red Muppet underneath. A chain-link belt was slung low across her hips, and her hair was pulled back into two high pigtails, pulled only halfway through the elastic bands so that they made two fat loops of curls on either side of her head, tied with red ribbons. The final touch was Neela's punk rock makeup, her enormous eyes lined heavily in kohl black, with lips to match.
"Holy shit," Abby gasped, as all her blood rushed south, making her slightly woozy.
"I know!" She had completely forgotten about the overeager boy seated next to her. "Man, cut me a slice of that!"
"That's my girlfriend, asswipe." The red-faced boy's jaw dropped.
"Niiiiiiice."
As the band all took their positions, Neela perched on a stool and settled herself, her eyes squinting out into the crowd, obviously unable to see past the lights. Abby grinned, and slowly began worming her way closer to the front. When the music started, though, she temporarily lost the ability to press forward, her eyes drawn magnetically back to the stage and Neela. The viola wasn't introduced right away; at first it was just a heavy baseline, drums, and Ray's guitar, thrumming together with surprising grace. Abby realized she hadn't expected them to actually be good; not this good, anyway. But they were. The throbbing bass felt as if it were playing inside Abby's chest, loosening all her muscles and joints like some kind of telekinetic shiatsu massage. Her hips began to sway as her eyes were drawn again to Neela, eyes closed, rocking gracefully to the same rhythm with one foot dangling off the tall stool. Then, she raised her viola to her chin, cradling it on her shoulder almost tenderly as she raised the bow in her other hand. When it touched the strings, the smooth shift in the music was flawless, the blue spotlights deepening to purple to compliment the richness of her long, saturated tones. Abby was totally transfixed; she couldn't take her eyes off Neela. Neither could anyone else, it seemed. Abby was thrown by the surging of the crowd, and with renewed determination began pushing her way forward, until her stomach was pressed against the edge of the stage.
Neela didn't open her eyes once. It wasn't as if she were playing the music; it was as if she was actually becoming the music. It flowed out of her like her body was changing its chemical composition, muscle and bone evaporating into endless, slender notes. Abby remembered what she'd said the first morning they'd woken up together; when she'd told Neela she looked like a song.
With a jolt, Abby realized the set was over; all around her was screaming and stamping and the tang of sweat and smoke. Neela took an old-fashioned curtsey, which somehow made her look even more punk and irreverent than ever. Looking down, she suddenly caught Abby's eye, and, grinning delightedly, gave her a saucy and very obvious wink, causing an eruption of hoots and whistles all around her. But Abby wasn't bothered by it; she felt elated. The sensation of three hundred people standing behind her, all of them screaming for Neela, her Neela, gave her the same heady feeling of pride that she'd had when first the band had taken the stage. She was glad, now, that she had gotten that special stamp, as she elbowed her way through the rowdy crowd to the entrance to the backstage area.
Finding her way to the green room, Abby leaned in the doorway for a moment, just watching Neela talking and laughing excitedly with Ray and his bandmates. They were all slapping her on the back, and one of them handed her what looked like a joint. Abby was surprised, though not angry, to see Neela accept it without batting an eyelash, holding it to her black-rimmed lips between pinched fingers. Then she looked up and saw Abby watching her, and a broad, sultry grin blossomed on her face. She held out her arm and crooked one finger, beckoning Abby toward her.
"Hey, rockstar," Abby greeted her, kneeling on the couch next to Neela and throwing one leg over her hips, straddling her.
"Hey groupie," Neela giggled, reaching out and tangling her hand in Abby's sweat-dampened hair. "Looks as if you're enjoying yourself, then?"
"Enjoying you," Abby corrected her, leaning in and kissing her thoroughly, enjoying the sweet flavor of the pot on Neela's breath. "Along with everybody else here." Neela grinned and dropped her head on Abby's shoulder.
"You're having me on," she drawled, her hands winding around to stroke Abby's bare back between the laces of her halter top.
"No way, babe," Abby shook her head. "You're the hottest thing in this club, and everybody knows it. Tell her, Ray." Abby leaned back on Neela's legs, glancing to the equally punked-out undercover doctor across the room.
"You were fucking hot, Neela," Ray said easily. "You ever wanna join the band for real, you just let me know." He took in the sight of the two of them entwined on the couch, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Do you know how much money I could make if I had a camera right now?"
"Not enough to cover the medical expenses you'd have afterwards," Abby deadpanned. Ray chuckled.
"C'mon, you two should come along to our after-hours...it's gonna be wicked." Neela and Abby looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Love to," Neela said with a wink. "Can we just have five minutes?" Her back arched with a small gasp of surprise when Abby twisted her fingers sharply. "Uh-- twenty minutes," Neela amended, flushing as Abby crawled off her and offered her a hand. Grinning, Abby led Neela back through the crowd, which would've been difficult enough even without the adoration being thrown at Neela by every drunken idiot they passed, but somehow they made it across the floor, to a paint-splattered door marked ladies.
"Wanna be eighteen again?" Abby murmured rakishly, gripping Neela's hand tight and nibbling lightly on her ear.
"I think I already am," Neela giggled, opening the door and pulling Abby in behind her.