Time Warp: I Didn't Think You'd Care

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny rarely spoke of anything so personal, but she knew her wife would understand the intention behind her vague explanation. And the way she drew a breath in proved that she had. The Brit’s dark eyes glanced down, following the hardened line in Lucy’s lips as they pressed together, before catching her gaze again.

She looked somewhat irritated over the information, and rightfully so, Penny believed.

Despite how distracting the hand tracing down her arm was, the Brit refused to waver. Or rather, she tried to. As she felt familiar lips brush against her ear, the Brit drew in a quick breath, eyes closing on instinct.

The tension in her jaw grew as she tried to maintain her slipping composure. Because she was still angry at Lucy, and she wanted to stay angry at her. “It doesn’t matter how long it takes.” She shot back, “You barely took my thoughts into consideration, if at all.” Still, her hand moved to the Australian’s waist, unable to help herself from reaching out to her.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

When Lucy heard the pattern of her counterpart's breathing, she made no move to pull away. She stayed close by, lingering within the dangerous distracting proximity, even as her wife berated her. Penny did well to reference Lucy's inconsiderate action in such a way, and Lucy felt the need to argue the fact. Because she did take them into consideration.

Which was why she spoke before Penny could.

The hand at her waist did nothing to deter her. And she doubted the move was made to be something of a deterrent anyway. She sought her counterpart's hand in her own, interlacing their fingers together and offering a squeeze. In the next moment, she dragged Penny's hand with her, careful to place it around her waist with the other.

"Aren't you proud of me?" Lucy asked instead, her tone light, her intention a little less serious. She was very aware that Penny was at least somewhat drawn to the way the ink manipulator worked when she worked. This had been so different - to be the work - and she'd felt the psychometrist's eyes on her every step of the way. That was hardly a bad thing.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It never mattered how irritated she was with the Australian, Penny always wanted to reach out to her, and more often than not she did. Her thumb brushed over the material of her counterpart’s shirt idly, allowing her free hand to be taken. “I am.” It was a short, but honest, answer.

She squeezed Lucy’s hand in return, and as the ink manipulator placed it on her waist, Penny moved half a step closer on instinct. It had been strange to see others look at her wife in such a way; to see the tattoos that Penny had so often brushed her fingers across. Her lips, even.

And to see Lucy handle the attention in such a professional manner had caught Penny’s attention more than anything. She had seen Lucy worked; she knew how she worked. She had a professional charm about her that was completely captivating. Not to say that this particular event wasn’t; on the contrary, the Australian was enthralling. “But aren’t you tired of being watched by everybody?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy knew Penny was proud of her. She could practically feel it; so much so that the words were hardly necessary. But the admittance - because it was an admittance - was enough to draw her in completely. Two simple, almost insignificant words. Articulated in such a way, they became everything.

More so when the Brit took the obvious cue Lucy gave her and stepped a touch closer. In hindsight, she probably should have just said no. It would have been so easy. The psychometrist could have had her entirely.

She still could, if she was patient enough.

The ink manipulator exhaled a heavy sigh at the question. She supposed it spoke more than an articulated answer really could, but she still wanted to try regardless. "Yes," The Australian replied, "But there, you'll be the only one looking." And of that, she was most definitely sure. "There, you were the only one looking." She tried, releasing the hand she'd moved in order to run her fingers across her arm, back towards her.

"Now, you're the only one looking."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

She could have argued, and part of her very much wanted to. However, Penny resisted the urge to do so; she understood her wife’s point, and that was everything. Because despite how many people looked, Penny knew she was the only one that looked. She always did. She knew the physical cues her wife made, and what they meant. What each tattoo meant as they shifted on her skin.

Penny lightly pulled at Lucy in an attempt to ease her in closer. She was far from patient when it came to these matters; it had been so for years. The pair hadn’t even made it through their first dinner together years ago, and the Brit was unsure how she was supposed to make it through this one.

But she didn’t have much of a choice at this point. Her hands shifted from the Australian’s waist, tucking her hands under the material of her shirt, fingertips tracing along bare skin lightly. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?” It was the closest to acceptance as the Brit could verbally offer.

Even so, Penny made no attempt to move away from her counterpart.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The moment Lucy felt her hands move, she knew she was going to struggle. The slow shifting of her fingers was as much of a distraction as anything else, and anything Penny might have said would have fallen on deaf ears. Because her fingertips were tracing along the ink manipulator's skin, hiding away under the hem of her shirt. She took a slow breath, trying to keep it level.

But she'd missed the psychometrist. And she wanted her; she wanted them to say.

"Nope." Lucy replied, because the thought of putting clothes on was slowly moving further and further away in her mind. So much so the the way her hand moved faltered, and her fingers curled around Penny's arm lightly. "Do my clothes really matter?" Evident distraction lined her tone as she tried her best to ask a decent question. Really, she knew the answer to that already. But she wished she didn't.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The light pressure on her arm didn’t go unnoticed; the singular action said everything that needed to be. Her dark eyes briefly dropped, gaze tracing along the curve of Lucy’s lips, lingering there before she met her counterpart’s gaze again. She couldn’t help but to look, and Penny knew she knew that as well.

“Yes.” Penny replied with a single nod. She was acutely aware of the distraction lining her wife’s tone; it brought something of a smug expression from the psychometrist. “Because you said you wanted to go.”

Her nails dragged across Lucy’s back lightly. “And because of that, you need to wear something appropriate for the occasion.” She leaned inward, lips brushing the ink manipulator’s ear lightly, “Skinny jeans are not acceptable attire, either."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy knew all too well that her clothes mattered when it came to work related events. But this was hardly that. If it panned out as she predicted it might, there wouldn't be a person there despite them and the people who worked there. So in theory, she knew her clothing choice didn't actually matter. But it was genuinely far from her mind at that point. She had every reason to be distracted.

"Mmm." She replied. Because she did want to go, and there was no denying that. Where she stood on the matter now was a different story entirely.

The Australian drew in a slow breath when she felt familiar nails tracking across her skin. And she held every ounce of air she'd just collected when Penny leaned in and grazed her lips across her ear lightly. Almost delicately, though there was nothing delicate about a situation like this.

"Yes they are." Lucy reasoned, as her nails dug into her counterpart's forearm. There were few things she'd ever give up for such a business, and they were one of them. "I have a good pair. Black. Spotless. Perfectly tight." And totally appropriate.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The nails digging into her forearm were impossible to ignore; they drew an uneven breath from the psychometrist, spreading across Lucy’s skin as she kept her lips against the ink manipulator’s ear. She heard her wife’s argument, but barely acknowledged it. She knew which pair Lucy was referring to.

And they were indeed perfectly tight.

Penny was aware that Lucy would never give up skinny jeans, even for a celebratory dinner at one of the finest places in Paris. Assuming they were still going, that was. The Brit felt acutely conscious that Lucy was slipping. That she wanted to stay just as much as the Brit wanted to keep her.

However, Lucy Serrano was also a stubborn being. She put more pressure into the way her nails dragged across the ink manipulator’s back and she leaned forward, sinking her teeth into her wife’s earlobe. “Then we should leave soon."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy did her best to maintain a steady patter to her breathing, but it was difficult. She knew all too well that Penny knew exactly how to read her; a fact that honestly didn't bother her until moments like these. Moments where she found herself falling to pieces with each and every move she made. She thought for sure she'd struggle to handle the way her nails dug into her skin with more intensity. Her hand even eased in its own pressure against her counterpart's forearm.

Until she breached that minimal distance again and sunk her teeth into the ink manipulator's earlobe.

Lucy instinctively bit down into her lower lip at the feeling, the phrase she offered dissipating into the moment as nothing but a blur. Because as much as she tried, she couldn't stop the sound that passed through her mouth.

She thought to speak, but she simply couldn't.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny knew why Lucy hadn’t asked her opinion on the matter; not because the Brit would say no, but she knew well that the ink manipulator would say no upon hearing it. Penelope Blaise was well aware that she had an effect over the Australian, one that she sometimes worked to her advantage.

And now was one of those times.

She exhaled against Lucy’s ear, breath wavering as she made that sound. It was completely overwhelming. Everything about Lucy Serrano was. It would have been so easy to give into her counterpart. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

She tilted her head, lightly brushing her lips along the line of Lucy’s jaw before strategically placing a kiss to the Australian’s neck. Lingering there for a few moments, Penny then quickly pulled away.

“Get going, then.” She said, making sure to keep her tone collected. "We'll be late." And Lucy knew how Penny felt about being late.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The interaction with her wife was honestly so paining that Lucy wished she had the skills to even consider denying her. The way she breathed had the Australian completely entangled in whatever it was she likely wanted out of this borderline torturous behaviour.

But then she threatened to take it all away. Her voice so precise. So impactful.

"Okay." She replied, practically swallowing the harsh disappointment and evident distress she wore.

Finally Lucy let go of the grip she had on her arm, her fingertips trailing up the line of her own shirt. She kept her eyes on the psychometrist as she worked through the first few buttons. And then she stopped, raising her eyebrows.

"Help me."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny kept her gaze on her wife as she worked through the buttons of her shirt. She hadn’t need to look to know what she was doing, and looking was always dangerous. Especially when she was trying to prove a point.

She raised her own eyebrows as Lucy spoke. The simple two word request sparking her interest. Still, the Brit didn’t crack a smile as she took another half step forward, the tip of her nose lightly brushing that of her counterparts.

Quietly, Penny brushed her hands under Lucy’s, fingers unhooking the button without the need to glance. It was a familiar movement, muscle memory. So her gaze remained fixed on Lucy, doing her best to keep her expression unfazed, however it only took seconds for Penny to realize she was holding her breath.

Her fingers trailed slowly up towards the next button, and her eyebrows twitched upward. “Help me…?” She trailed off, as if wishing for her to finish the sentence.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

As Penny stepped forward, it was impossible for Lucy to stay composed under the heavy connotations of the breach in distance. She was right there; too close to stare at with such intention. Close enough to steal a kiss from. To take everything from.

Lucy didn't fight it as she felt her hands replace her own. The way she worked through a set of buttons with effortless precision made the proximity that much more dangerous. There were things Penelope Blaise did well. And there were things she knew she did well. And as the two met, lines were easily drawn.

She was good with her hands, and she was showing off about it.

"-Out of this." Lucy finished for her. "Usually it's faster if you take my clothes off."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Within a few seconds and a simple flick of her wrist, Penny unbuttoned the last button of Lucy’s shirt. Her hands lingered on the material slightly, giving it a small tug before dipping underneath the fabric, nails lightly running across her collarbones and to her shoulders.

“You so rarely take them off yourself.” She agreed almost idly, giving a small nod as she began to slide the material down her shoulders. Her gaze threatened to waver, but Penny resisted the urge to look at the newly exposed skin. Not yet.

So she continued to ease the shirt off her counterpart, and as she got it completely off the Australian, Penny neatly folded it in half and over a nearby chair. Because then – more than ever – was the most appropriate time to draw out each movement as slowly as possible.

As the psychometrist brought her hands back, she placed them on Lucy’s hips, grazing over her belt lightly. “Where are your perfect jeans, then?”