Time Warp: Rhythm

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

June, 2021

The concept of a routine seemed to fly out the window when a child was thrown into the mix. Since the arrival of their son Lincoln three months ago, the world had become more about adjusting and realigning that usual routine over completely allowing it to falter. Penelope Blaise had always been a strict woman when it came to planning, so of course this was no exception. But life as a whole took so much getting used to now. Especially because Penny was as overprotective as a mother could be, despite how typical it mightn't have seemed.

Lucy existed as the only exception to such overarching worry. Of course, she was his mother too, as such a fact had been cemented well before he was born. But trusting other people? With Lincoln? That was another thing entirely; Penny was barely willing to let other people hold him. So imagine Lucy's surprise when she was willing to allow Carleigh to take him for a night.

Under the preface that they actually do something with the time. Though it seemed jarring, or possibly just incredibly strange, there was a mutual decision agreed that they could work with that. So they went out. Dinner. Anywhere would do, really, but she let her wife choose in the end. Picky as she was over just about everything.

It wasn't until her hand disconnected from hers and she sat down opposite her that Lucy realised how daunting this was. Leaning back in her seat instinctively, she kept her mouth shut as she stared across the way towards her love.

"I'm gonna drink." She denoted far too quickly, already making the move to stand up.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

With their son at only three months old, letting him go for any amount of time was a struggle. So few were allowed to handle the boy; it was essentially a limited list to herself and Lucy. So letting someone else look after him for the entire night was a evident struggle. Just how Penny managed to let Lincoln go was beyond even her, but somehow she did, sending him to Carleigh with everything he could possibly need.

Admittedly, the thought of spending a night with just Lucy was appealing in every sense of the word. No doubt she worried about their son, but her hand also held tightly onto her wife's as they walked into the small restaurant.

Only letting go once they were sat, Penny crossed her legs as she looked across the table to Lucy. How suddenly far away she seemed to be. Her lips hadn't meant to purse so tightly; she wasn't supposed to look so cross, but the pressure only remained as Lucy suddenly announced her intentions.

Immediately, Penny leaned forward, eyes narrowing on the ink manipulator. "Lucy." They'd barely been here a minute, and she hardly wanted to bring home her wife drunk.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy's hand pressed to the back of the chair she had only just sat down in, a leg out in order to drag her weight upwards instinctively. But her own name caught her, wrapped in the familiar accent that seemed to lace it with something of a warning. Eyebrows rose instinctively as if to silently ask why the moment had to be clouded with such severity. It took that spare second for reasoning to kick in, and as realisation caught her eyes she immediately dropped her jaw.

But she didn't speak. Not right then.

"Just one or two." Lucy offered lightly, waving a hand idly at the information she should have given in the first place. But she wasn't sure it'd be enough, and a physical connection at this point was so out of reach it practically irked her; "Promise."

And with that, she was quick to finally leave her seat. Though she easily could have waited in her proximity for someone to find her, something about the entire ordeal made standing at a nearby bar feel like a small break. She leaned against the surface with both forearms - just as she often would when approached - and carried a very short conversation with the person who served her. Enough to drag a knowing shot of humour to her expression and a genuine enough smile from them. But by the time she was reaching into her back pocket to actually pay, she was glancing over a shoulder in her direction.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

A verbal warning in the form of a familiar name did nothing to stop Lucy; it only stalled the Australian briefly as she tried to reassure that it wouldn't cause a problem. Pursed lips and a quirk of Penny's eyebrows proved she was doubtful, but the concept of a promise did put her at some ease. She could only hope that those one or two drinks wouldn't be so strong.

Being left alone at the table was hardly ideal, but as the Australian stood Penny didn't stop her. Instead, dark eyes moved down the form that walked away. When Lucy was at a decent distance, she actually let out a breath of relief. Somehow, it was easier to breathe with the space put between them, but that hadn't prevented the Brit from watching.

Whether Lucy herself knew it or not, she held herself in a certain way. When it came to anything that resembled a bar or countertop and someone making a drink for her - whether it be coffee or liquor based - she always leaned up against it. Always smiled so charmingly. It was as endearing as it was irritating, because it was more than Penny who looked.

As Lucy turned and spared a glance in Penny's direction, she was quick to catch the ink manipulator's gaze. She might have been smiling in some stint of amusement, but the psychometrist hadn't been. A twitch of her eyebrows upwards, and she was silently beckoning the ink manipulator back to the table, as painful as that would certainly be.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Truth be told, Lucy was relatively unaware of her own behaviour when it came to interacting with other people. She was absent to the way a nicer mentality could be percieved, but despite it all, she always knew when someone was looking. Hooking someone in was always easy, but there was never intent behind it; at least, not from her side of things. So in the mind of the Australian, there was no harm in playing nice. In actual reality, she was almost always anything but.

But of course - as it always was in almost every moment - Lucy's mind was drawn back to her love without difficulty. So she looked back to catch a glimpse of the familiar figure she adored, catching her eyes before she could rightly read the expression given. She wanted to stare, too, but it wasn't as easy as it was for her. Eyebrows raised, and Lucy didn't need a verbal indication to know she was being asked to return. Perhaps the strain of distance was already too much, though Penny was always prone to notoriously unnecessary jealousy.

Lucy waited anyway, at least, she waited as long as she had to. Amber ale in a bottle over anything stronger in the bottom of a glass, but even as her fingers procured it she wasn't moving away. Not until another glass - a third of the way filled and practically clear - was settled in front of her.

She took both as she rocked back a step, offering something of a thankful nod before she worked her way back towards the table she was beckoned to. Never one to drink wine herself - and never one to understand why anyone would - Lucy sat it before her counterpart instead. "It's your favourite." She reasoned, raising her own eyebrows once before she resided to taking a drink and still refusing her seat.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny knew that while asking her counterpart to return, she'd still have to wait for her to procure whatever she had ordered. When a bottle was handed to her, the Brit felt relieved it wasn't anything of a stronger substance. However, when Lucy still didn't move from the bar, Penny felt the tightening of her chest. Just what was she up to now?

But when another glass was handed to the Australian, Penny found herself surprised. The shape of the glass gave away what it held - and Lucy Serrano wasn't one to drink wine, nor did she think the ink manipulator was brave enough to return with two drinks for herself. So when it was placed in front of her, the Brit hadn't looked down on it, her eyes too caught up in the person that offered it to her.

"Thank you." She replied, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards towards something of a softer expression. She likely knew that she wouldn't have ordered herself, yet now that it was here in front of her Penny was hardly about to resist. Her fingertips found the base of the glass, but she had yet to move it towards herself. Because her gaze suddenly moved past Lucy, if only for a moment. A half second in the grand scheme of things.

Penelope Blaise was notorious for her jealously. The memory of a bartender looking at her hardly helped matters.

Sucking in a breath, she straightened in her seat instinctively the moment she snapped out of it. Her eyes focused back on the ink manipulator in front of her as a shot of tension rose through her jaw.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

With eyes briefly turned away, Lucy had missed the vague expression Penny had worn for half a second. Smaller moments folded themselves into larger ones, wrapped in her mind while Lucy remained completely oblivious. It wasn't until she glanced back down that she realised the tension she had worked to ease away was suddenly back in full swing.

Immediately, Lucy furrowed her eyebrows. Things that started negatively were always a challenge to turn around; the ink manipulator took a spare second to study the newer twist to Penny's features with a clear cut mix of concern and confusion.

"What?" Lucy asked her, though she managed to keep her tone light. And from where she still stood, it was easy to reach out; her free hand cupped her chin gently, "Hmm?"

Even as the sound passed her mouth questionably, she couldn't ignore the fire at her fingertips. The way contact seemed to simmer, even if it had only been useless minutes since she'd had it.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

If anything, Penny should have been thankful that her counterpart had missed the small shift in her expression. However, it was impossible to ease the stress out of her features, and that much Lucy was sure to catch. And she had. Familiar fingertips found her chin, and Penny closed her eyes at the contact briefly. It was something to get lost in. Something that was theirs, not a memory of some invalid bartender.

When she finally opened them again, her eyes were caught on the ink manipulator's belt briefly. It came with looking directly forward, but her eyes were still slow to move up Lucy's form before catching hers once again. The question wasn't lost on the psychometrist, but she was still slow to respond nonetheless.

"You were given a deal." Penny pointed out, unsure if Lucy herself knew the fact. It wouldn't have surprised her if she had. "On the drinks." Her head tilted down to her own glass as she lifted her free hand, fingers curling lightly around the ones that held her chin as she brought them to her lips, kissing Lucy's knuckles lightly once before letting go.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Denying the need to breach distance and make contact was a concept Lucy had given up on years ago. She had learned to give into the things she felt she rightly deserved; a simple brush of her fingertips to get some attention and it was deemed well worth it. The response she got, however, wasn't. It wasn't exactly good. But there was goodness in the lips that brushed against her fingers. A little more to get lost in. She just had to manage through the way it forced her to exhale slowly.

"Hn." The little sound passed her lips as the only way to acknowledge what Penny was saying amidst the simple statement she offered. Truthgully, Lucy had no idea if such a thing were true. She hadn't really factored cost in. She rarely did. But as seconds passed, she did ease herself away completely. There was a chair at the opposite end of the table waiting for her, and she was only making it worse the more she lingered.

And really, Penny had let her go. It was almost a message within itself. She fell into the chair with relative ease, back against it as she leaned in a more natural way.

"I forgot to tip." Lucy replied, pursing her lips as if the disconnect could ever truly be genuine.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Letting go wasn't easy, but Penny's hand dropped to her own lap nonetheless. Playing in the proximity that was between them was a dangerous game. Contact? Even more so. So she encouraged the ink manipulator to return to her seat, but even when she listened as well as she had, Penny had to silently admit she wished Lucy hadn't taken those steps.

Because now there was a table between them. Which, if anything, was intended to help issues that arose with going anywhere with Lucy. Or, it was supposed to help. The Brit did her best to remind herself of that fact as she sucked in a slow breath before bringing the glass of wine to her lips, yet didn't take a sip.

"Good." Penny replied, likely too quickly for her own good. She refused to look towards the bar again, but the desire to scold the bartender behind it was paramount. Fortunately, there was a force much stronger that kept her in her seat. As attention grabbing as Lucy was for the Brit, it was still a problem in the space they were in, and she tried her best to shift her attention down to the menu she didn't have to read. Still, she glanced upward; it was easy to get lost in her. "Do you know what you're going to order?" She asked instead, finally putting the glass to her lips.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Of course Penny would deem the accident as something good. Lucy knew it as such in the first place; it was why she managed to get away with it without much scathing. And it was so easy to play a different card in a moment like that. An accent might have faded a little with years in another country, but she was still an obvious foreigner. And she had to love that about herself.

Now that Lucy sat across from her love, it was difficult to let her eyes stray. It wasn't hard to remember why she had instantly left the seat in the first place. As she lost her gaze, her own remained fully in tact. From her eyes to her mouth. Then the curve of her neck with a slight tilt of her head. And why not? Surely she knew what attention she drew when she kept her hair up like that.

"Got no idea." She admitted. Even as Penny's eyes were on her, she wasn't clever enough to drag her attention upwards. Dark eyes continued their shift downwards, well aware of a table that could easily ruin the view. "So long as it hasn't got the things I hate, what do I care?" A genuine question posed as she forced herself to look up. Or the table did it for her; "It's not like I ever know what's for dinner anyway." Something of that nature had always been her forte.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

When Penny looked back to Lucy, she couldn't catch her gaze. Hers fell short, and it wasn't hard for the Brit to determine just where her wife was looking. So few actually looked at Penelope Blaise, and nobody stared at her like Lucy did. It forced her to take an extended sip from her wine. As she pulled the glass away, her tongue crossed her lower lip before teeth sunk in a moment later. There was nothing wrong with Lucy staring the way she did, which was exactly the problem itself.

Although the ink manipulator never cooked, it was still a surprise to hear that she never really cared what was put in front of her assuming that she didn't hate anything in it. A slightly absurd way to think about it, but Penny didn't argue with the thought, more focused on the poor grammar used than Lucy's decision. Because on cue, her nose crinkled; her expression remained slightly pained for most of her wife's explanation.

"You have no idea, as long as it doesn't have something you dislike in it." Penny repeated with a tilt of her head. There were times where she didn't correct the ink manipulator, but the stress of distance brought out a harsher attitude in the Brit.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Grammar had always been something Lucy seemed to skirt over without much thought. She always spoke as she had without much attention to detail; at least, not in moments where that attention didn't seem warranted. Usually, Penny seemed to let it slide. But it obviously always irked her, and she could never completely get used to it. The nature in which she had corrected the ink manipulator, however, felt sharpened.

She did her best not to take offense. Or rather, she did her best not to look as irked as she could have been. Instead, the corner of her mouth dragged upwards into something of an amused grin.

She narrowed her eyes on the psychometrist instinctively, practically scrutinising in the lightest way she aptly could. "Penny," Lucy started, and from her chair she leaned inward enough to place the bottle in hand down on the surface. But she didn't make direct contact. Something like that might actually ruin her composure, "Are you hitting on me?"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny herself had missed the harsher tones that were in her own tone; the correction came out naturally. Or so she thought. She hadn't looked into any potential undertones to what she considered to be a public service. The grin Lucy wore, however, caught Penny's attention almost immediately. Her eyebrows rose as dark eyes looked back at the ink manipulator with that same sharpness her tone had carried.

She didn't have time to ask what.

"Pardon?" She asked, confusion hitting her features within the next moment. It had been a question she hadn't honestly expected, nor did she exactly know how to reply to. In theory, she was always hitting on her wife - because she was exactly that, her wife. And so rather than giving an explanation, she waited for one to be given to her instead.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Even as years progressed, there were few things that changed about Lucy. She would still falter to the simplicity of her own humour, and it would always highlight in moments where it likely shouldn't have. Penny had seemed annoyed - that much was probably obvious to just about everyone in the room who put eyes on her - but it was hardly going to deter the ink manipulator from her chosen path.

Because she knew this woman like no other. She knew the nature behind her words, even in moments where she was genuinely oblivious to it. Someone had momentarily invaded her own mentalitiy and given her a glimpse of an outside life and outside thoughts on the Australian she deftly called her own. At the potential balance of power shift, it was only right that the Brit would search for it however she could. It was exactly why Lucy couldn't take offense.

Because Penny's jealousy was still notorious. As was her oblivious nature to the things that could stare her in the face.

"Oh, I'm not mad." Lucy started in, and she sounded as nonchalant as she felt about it, "But when you look like that, you don't need to bother."