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Lou wasn’t angry at Debbie. Not anymore. She wasn’t even hurt anymore, not really. She didn’t have time for any of that if she wanted their relationship to go back to the way it used to be. Or- Not back, but similar. Stronger. Claude, however, she was very, very angry at.
Sure, she and Debbie had been going through a rough patch, rigging bingo wasn’t exactly fun, but that didn’t mean he could fucking steal her girlfriend. The rough patch was only supposed to be with their work, not their relationship.
They were walking down the bustling streets of New York a few weeks before the Met Gala, when a familiar face popped up in the crowd, walking steadily towards them. Lou tensed, Debbie looked at her questioningly. Lou tilted her head towards him. Debbie tensed.
“Ignore him. He won’t see us.”
He saw them. He slowed to a stop, blocking their path. The commuting New Yorkers tossed him dirty looks as they filtered around him.
He ignored them, a smug smile painted across his face.
“Hello, Debbie. Been a while. How about you come back with me to my apartment, for old time’s sake.”
“I almost lost the best thing to ever happen to me for you five years ago, Becker, I’m not making that mistake again.”
Lazily, Claude flicked his eyes over to scan Lou from head to toe. He scoffed, “What do you need her for? I’m definitely better.”
Lou clenched her jaw and stayed silent.
He stared at Lou, unflinching as her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes squinted in anger.
“Lou, wasn’t it? Lou Miller? Your little girlfriend,” he spat the word in disgust, “won't even remember your name when I’ve finished with her.”
Lou’s eyes widened, a sharp intake of breath whistling through her nostrils as she tried to calm down. He had that ‘ I’ve never been told to shut the fuck up before’ energy to everything he said. There were few things in this world that Lou hated beyond anything, but entitled men were one of them.
“What are you going to do, Miller?” He taunted, “Debbie chose me five years ago, who’s to say she won’t choose me again? You’re certainly nothing special, you can’t give her the life she deserves. You’re a fucking disgusting dyke. You can’t taint her, she isn’t dirty when she’s with me.”
Debbie was silent. She almost reached out to hold Lou back but decided, last minute, that maybe Claude deserved it. He was a smarmy, homophobic, asshole. Claude Becker had this great way of being the personification of everything Lou hated.
Lou grit her teeth and took a step forward.
“You wanna say that again, Becker?”
“You’re. A. Dirty. Fucking. Dyke.” Claude enunciated, grinning to himself like he had single handedly ended homosexuality.
Lou let out a breath.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” She told him.
Her hand curled into a fist as she rushed forward. She whipped her arm out with practised ease, hitting him solidly in the right cheek. His head whipped back as his hand flew up to cup where the skin had broken.
Lou looked at him with fire and disgust in her eyes, “Don’t you ever, ever come looking for us again. You were a notch in her bedpost, a blip in the system. A lapse of judgement. She is not yours, and I am not filthy.”
Blood dripped down Claude’s cheek, his lip snarled like a rabid dog. Lou stepped forward, threatening, he stepped back. Coward.
Debbie grabbed her arm, softly and guided her away from him, leaving him in the middle of the street with blood dripping from his broken skin.
“That was kind of hot. You defending my honour.”
“Really not the time, Deb.”
Debbie was quiet for a few seconds before speaking softly, “He’s wrong, you know. You’re not dirty. You’re not disgusting. You’re not sinful for being a lesbian. Just as I’m not wrong for being bisexual. I’m sorry about everything I did back then, baby. He was never worth it.”
Lou smiled lightly, shaking out her fist. When she spoke finally it was a asoft confession, barely audible over the sound of honking cars and hurried footsteps, “I love you, okay. I really love you, and yeah it sucked to find out my girlfriend cheated on me, and then have her go to prison before we could work it out, but as hurt as I was. As angry . I never, not even for a second, stopped loving you. Maybe I should have. Most people would have. But I couldn’t. You’re my endgame, my toussaint.”
“You’re my happy ending.”
They walked in comfortable silence, heading in the direction of the loft, arm in arm. And then-
“I’ve never thought physical violence could be so hot.”
Lou laughed without meaning to, “Yeah, I really love you.”