FF: One Night Stand
Fandom: Original
Pairing: F/F
A/N: This is not in any way connected to my ongoing story. Thanks to Ann for the beta.
The morning after was never meant to be this hard. A little awkward, obviously, but with the judicious use of a hasty farewell, it would be over and done with within twenty minutes and she could move on. Her latest conquest, however, had apparently not read the memo and had turned the experience into a nightmare of epic proportions. Questions. Question after question, after question. Sex was one thing, but having to divulge her real name and current occupation was far too personal.
"Look," she struggled for a name, but upon finding none, hurried on, "last night was great, but I really need to be going."
The smile wavered on the other woman's face. "I thought we could have breakfast? I heat a mean croissant."
Damn the woman for not reading from the script. There were certain rules attached to one night stands and offering breakfast and being all charming and warm about it just wasn't part of the deal. "That's a lovely offer, but I really need to be going." She wished she could think of a viable excuse; some high powered job she needed to rush off to at a moment's notice, but she was halfway positive that she'd told the other woman enough about herself the night before to make that unbelievable, and although she had no problem lying to women, she drew the line at telling a lie that would humiliate either of them. "Perhaps another time?"
As the woman's smile brightened, she knew she'd made a rookie mistake; promises of more was the number two no-no when it came to this kind of thing. She might as well have brought the woman back to her home with the mess she was making of the whole thing.
"I'd like that." The woman did have a most charming smile, and from what she could remember, the warmth inherent in her smile was dwarfed in comparison to the inferno of her kisses. "Dinner, tonight, maybe?"
The edge of uncertainty in the offer caused her to waver in her refusal, and instead, she found herself shrugging her shoulders in an echo of that uncertainty. It was a trap, she knew, and one that could only end in tragedy, but for some inexplicable reason, she felt unable to tear herself free and make her escape. "Okay."
She wondered briefly if she'd been drugged or lobotomised; nothing else could explain her radical departure from the correct morning after routine. A mid-life crisis was her next thought, but she supposed herself too young for that little excuse.
"Say, around eight?" The woman was pretty, she decided, rather than beautiful, as had been suggested by the lighting in the club, but rather than be put off by the difference, she actually found it an improvement. "You're not a vegetarian or anything, are you?" The kind of woman you grow old with, she thought, before chiding herself for entertaining such ideas. "I'm not the best of cooks, but I can grill a pretty decent steak."
"No, I'm not a vegetarian." She cursed herself a fool, she should have said she was a vegan with a severe nut allergy or something. The lobotomy theory was beginning to look more and more plausible with every second she stood there, not fleeing the scene of the unravelling crime. "But I really do need to go."
A nod of the other woman's head released her from the paralysis of thought that had consumed her body, and with trembling legs and a great deal of confusion she stumbled from the room and into the daylight beyond. She had a date. A date that was sure to be followed by a night of unbridled passion; not something she would normally complain about, but sharing a bed with the same person two nights running was far too close to domestic bliss and the decay of a normal relationship for her liking. She shuddered. The beginning of the end, she thought, her mind churning with clichés.
As far as one night stands went, it had been one in a million, but what she didn't realise for a long while afterwards was that it would also be her last. And the thought that would really have horrified her, had it dared to cross her synapses on that fateful morning, was that she didn't regret it in the least.
Pairing: F/F
A/N: This is not in any way connected to my ongoing story. Thanks to Ann for the beta.
The morning after was never meant to be this hard. A little awkward, obviously, but with the judicious use of a hasty farewell, it would be over and done with within twenty minutes and she could move on. Her latest conquest, however, had apparently not read the memo and had turned the experience into a nightmare of epic proportions. Questions. Question after question, after question. Sex was one thing, but having to divulge her real name and current occupation was far too personal.
"Look," she struggled for a name, but upon finding none, hurried on, "last night was great, but I really need to be going."
The smile wavered on the other woman's face. "I thought we could have breakfast? I heat a mean croissant."
Damn the woman for not reading from the script. There were certain rules attached to one night stands and offering breakfast and being all charming and warm about it just wasn't part of the deal. "That's a lovely offer, but I really need to be going." She wished she could think of a viable excuse; some high powered job she needed to rush off to at a moment's notice, but she was halfway positive that she'd told the other woman enough about herself the night before to make that unbelievable, and although she had no problem lying to women, she drew the line at telling a lie that would humiliate either of them. "Perhaps another time?"
As the woman's smile brightened, she knew she'd made a rookie mistake; promises of more was the number two no-no when it came to this kind of thing. She might as well have brought the woman back to her home with the mess she was making of the whole thing.
"I'd like that." The woman did have a most charming smile, and from what she could remember, the warmth inherent in her smile was dwarfed in comparison to the inferno of her kisses. "Dinner, tonight, maybe?"
The edge of uncertainty in the offer caused her to waver in her refusal, and instead, she found herself shrugging her shoulders in an echo of that uncertainty. It was a trap, she knew, and one that could only end in tragedy, but for some inexplicable reason, she felt unable to tear herself free and make her escape. "Okay."
She wondered briefly if she'd been drugged or lobotomised; nothing else could explain her radical departure from the correct morning after routine. A mid-life crisis was her next thought, but she supposed herself too young for that little excuse.
"Say, around eight?" The woman was pretty, she decided, rather than beautiful, as had been suggested by the lighting in the club, but rather than be put off by the difference, she actually found it an improvement. "You're not a vegetarian or anything, are you?" The kind of woman you grow old with, she thought, before chiding herself for entertaining such ideas. "I'm not the best of cooks, but I can grill a pretty decent steak."
"No, I'm not a vegetarian." She cursed herself a fool, she should have said she was a vegan with a severe nut allergy or something. The lobotomy theory was beginning to look more and more plausible with every second she stood there, not fleeing the scene of the unravelling crime. "But I really do need to go."
A nod of the other woman's head released her from the paralysis of thought that had consumed her body, and with trembling legs and a great deal of confusion she stumbled from the room and into the daylight beyond. She had a date. A date that was sure to be followed by a night of unbridled passion; not something she would normally complain about, but sharing a bed with the same person two nights running was far too close to domestic bliss and the decay of a normal relationship for her liking. She shuddered. The beginning of the end, she thought, her mind churning with clichés.
As far as one night stands went, it had been one in a million, but what she didn't realise for a long while afterwards was that it would also be her last. And the thought that would really have horrified her, had it dared to cross her synapses on that fateful morning, was that she didn't regret it in the least.