fic: Feels Like Home [Slings & Arrows, Ellen/Barbara, 389 words]
title: Feels like home
author: Sabine
category: Slings & Arrows, Ellen/Barbara
size: 389 words
notes: set just before the beginning of S3
New York is big, bright, and filthy, and it never sleeps, never lets up its low, relentless thrum. Ellen yearns for Canada.
Barbara squeezes her hand. They're somewhere on Broadway, in the forties, heading north, and it's got to be a hundred degrees and fucking humid, really fucking humid. "Don't you just love it here?" Barbara coos.
"Feels like coming home," says Ellen.
In New York, she's started drinking in the daytime, though she blames the longer days and sunny summer nights.
Blinking, they duck into the dark of a sports bar.
Barbara sings "Both Sides Now," every time. She writes her name on the slip with a little piece of golf pencil and then swans into her seat with a loud, melodious exhale. "Cold martini on a hot day," she says. And to the waiter, "two more?"
The drink is cold going down but hot once it's down there, and Ellen's sweating even in the air conditioning and she thinks, dammit, I should have worn a lighter coloured bra.
"You look gorgeous, darling," Barbara says. "As always." And when Barbara says it, Ellen believes it. Geoffrey never says it.
Barbara sings "Both Sides Now," and Ellen watches attentively, half thinking, what a fucking diva, and half in love. Barbara belts the big notes and blows the walls off the place, and the guys watching baseball on the TV monitor stop and clap and raise their beers when she's done.
Ellen stands up to meet Barbara when she steps off the stage to her own lingering applause. "You're so hot," Ellen says. The word is strange on her tongue, but she's a little drunk, and so she says it again. "Hot, hot, hot. You're a hottie."
Barbara slips an arm around Ellen's waist. "Back atcha, lady," she says.
Later, when she's back in Canada, Geoffrey will ask why they have to have that lizard queen around. "She was good to me in New York," Ellen will say, and this is what she'll mean.
Because Barbara guides Ellen back to her table, and leans in, hooks a thigh over Ellen's, strokes her shoulders, and kisses her. Right there in Times Square in front of God and the guys watching baseball and everyone.
"You belong here," Barbara murmurs, her lips warm and wet near Ellen's ear.
"Feels like home," Ellen agrees.
author: Sabine
category: Slings & Arrows, Ellen/Barbara
size: 389 words
notes: set just before the beginning of S3
New York is big, bright, and filthy, and it never sleeps, never lets up its low, relentless thrum. Ellen yearns for Canada.
Barbara squeezes her hand. They're somewhere on Broadway, in the forties, heading north, and it's got to be a hundred degrees and fucking humid, really fucking humid. "Don't you just love it here?" Barbara coos.
"Feels like coming home," says Ellen.
In New York, she's started drinking in the daytime, though she blames the longer days and sunny summer nights.
Blinking, they duck into the dark of a sports bar.
Barbara sings "Both Sides Now," every time. She writes her name on the slip with a little piece of golf pencil and then swans into her seat with a loud, melodious exhale. "Cold martini on a hot day," she says. And to the waiter, "two more?"
The drink is cold going down but hot once it's down there, and Ellen's sweating even in the air conditioning and she thinks, dammit, I should have worn a lighter coloured bra.
"You look gorgeous, darling," Barbara says. "As always." And when Barbara says it, Ellen believes it. Geoffrey never says it.
Barbara sings "Both Sides Now," and Ellen watches attentively, half thinking, what a fucking diva, and half in love. Barbara belts the big notes and blows the walls off the place, and the guys watching baseball on the TV monitor stop and clap and raise their beers when she's done.
Ellen stands up to meet Barbara when she steps off the stage to her own lingering applause. "You're so hot," Ellen says. The word is strange on her tongue, but she's a little drunk, and so she says it again. "Hot, hot, hot. You're a hottie."
Barbara slips an arm around Ellen's waist. "Back atcha, lady," she says.
Later, when she's back in Canada, Geoffrey will ask why they have to have that lizard queen around. "She was good to me in New York," Ellen will say, and this is what she'll mean.
Because Barbara guides Ellen back to her table, and leans in, hooks a thigh over Ellen's, strokes her shoulders, and kisses her. Right there in Times Square in front of God and the guys watching baseball and everyone.
"You belong here," Barbara murmurs, her lips warm and wet near Ellen's ear.
"Feels like home," Ellen agrees.