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Dance With Me
With anyone else, convincing them to be Loba’s arm candy would have been a matter of batting her eyelashes and flashing an award-winning smile that could render even the most hardened of people into a blushing mess. With Bangalore, it took a good week, and she still wasn’t happy about it.
Loba, of course, didn’t know why Bangalore looked so grumpy— she looked absolutely dashing in her suit and tie and she had Loba Andrade in a sleek, low-cut dress in front of her— but it did little to sully her mood. She had a beautiful woman in her home, a belly buzzing with wine, and a full night of hanging out with Bangalore to look forward to. Capping off her lipstick, Loba returned it to her velvet makeup bag, stashing it away in her vanity drawer afterward. She spun in her stool and faced Bangalore with a smile.
“Have I said how dashing you look, Linda ?” Loba said.
Bangalore glanced up from fiddling with her tie, “Only several hundred times now.”
“Well, you do,” Loba laughed.
She stood from her chair and Bangalore backed away to give her space. Loba didn’t want that. She wanted Bangalore to be so enamored that she couldn’t keep her hands off her. Hell, she wanted to skip the club all together and have Bangalore pull her down into the bed and show her an even more promising time than what was already ahead of them. Those eyes occasionally trailing down her cleavage wasn’t enough; she wanted that tongue trailing down her-
“Loba?”
“Mhm?” Loba blinked herself out of her fantasy.
“Are you ready?”
“For you, I’m always ready,” Loba laughed. She shuffled her way past Bangalore, stepping out into her wide bedroom. She hadn’t bothered to make her bed, and her closet was wide open and various dresses and pantsuits were dashed out onto the floor. For a moment, Loba allowed herself to imagine those clothes being her and Bangalore’s and that bed being tussled from activities aside from Loba being a restless sleeper. A smile stretched across her face, and when she turned around to see Bangalore right behind her and it stretched even wider. Evidently, it was on the creepy-side, as Bangalore stepped away from her and found interest in the ceiling instead.
“I feel like you are two seconds away from eating me,” Bangalore muttered.
Somehow, Loba grinned wider, “Oh, I would love to, Annie. First, the club,”
The club was a VIP-only off in Solace City’s for classy, rich side of town, where neon signs shined their brightest and wearing anything less than whatever was currently presented on the fashion runways was considered ‘improper’. It reminded Loba of Psmanathe, where she picked out most of her marks and made off with something valuable of theirs, and in truth she wouldn’t have minded doing that right now, either. More than a few glimmering watches and shiny necklaces had caught her eye. Her mission was different tonight, though, and business could wait. She had Bangalore with her and it had taken a week of non-stop begging, pleading, and promises to get her to agree to this. She wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. No matter how tempting that golden, diamond-studded ring was on the woman that passed them, or the— was that a Muzzano’s original?!
“You didn’t take me out here just to stake, did you?” Bangalore said, ever the observant one.
Loba realized she had been staring holes into the woman’s back and reluctantly pulled her gaze away. They were at some busy intersection, filled with cars and transports alike honking at each other and pedestrians hurrying past them to get to their next destination. The crossroads didn’t read familiar, nor did the multiple signs advertising various foods and new technologies. She hoped she hadn’t overshot the club.
“Just doing some window shopping, beautiful. I don’t plan on swiping anything today,” Loba said and offered a smile, hoping that would be the end of it.
Bangalore’s expression was unreadable, “Right.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I know how you are, I wouldn’t dream of stealing anything.”
Except her heart, of course. Better leave that unsaid, though. Bangalore was as dense as a rock and might take it literally.
“Riiiight.”
“Annie, give a woman a little more credit.”
“Where are we?”
Loba looked around again, desperate for something familiar. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself by pulling up her map; that would mean admitting to Bangalore that she was so wrapped up in ‘window shopping’ that she managed to get them lost. The roads and sidewalks here were new enough, which meant they weren’t in the old town-section of the city, so they couldn’t be that far. Some of the pedestrians looked dressed for clubbing, too, which meant there would be something for Loba to slip into and pretend this is where she wanted to be all along. Bangalore wouldn’t know any better, and on this side of town almost everything was VIP. She would just have to slip a few credits to get in on short-notice.
“Almost there. Getting impatient?”
Bangalore looked side to side, pursing her lips in a way that made Loba want to squish her cheeks and kiss her, “Don’t like how everyone is looking at me.”
“You’re a celebrity, sweetheart. And you are gorgeous. They are going to stare.”
Her reward was the faintest hint of darker cheeks as Bangalore tried not to meet her eyes, scuffing her dress shoe against the concrete. Loba killed the distance between them with an exaggerated bump of her hips in every step, settling a hand on Bangalore’s shoulder and getting another reward in the form of those beautiful brown eyes meeting hers. Loba’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted nothing more now than to go home and show Bangalore just how infatuated she was with her.
“Don’t tell me you are feeling shy?” Loba asked.
Bangalore looked away, “Getting stared at never means anything good for me.”
“These people are too concerned with themselves to pay you any mind. I guarantee you some of them have probably never heard of the Apex games. You are fine.” Loba let go of her shoulder and instead took her hand in hers, pulling her along. Bangalore’s feet dragged like a stubborn dog being yanked on a leash. It took effort not to laugh.
“Come on, beautiful, the night’s young and we still have a ways to go,” Loba encouraged her with a more forceful tug at her hand. Bangalore started to keep pace.
“If you say so,” Bangalore said.
Loba winked, “Remember our deal: A night with me; two hours of getting to fire my ships' gauss cannons in the desert.”
Bangalore shuddered and the excitement in her eyes couldn’t be hidden by even the darkest pair of shades. Yes, of course convincing Bangalore to get out of her comfort zone took offering her free reign of a very powerful gun. Why wouldn’t it? Replacing the hundreds of thousands credits worth of ammo was a small price to pay in comparison. Especially if Loba could get this night to end in bed. Damn it, she wanted that more than anything.
“Well, can’t say no to that,” Bangalore said, trying to keep the excitement in her voice tempered. It didn’t work very well. There was still that distinct giddiness that made Loba want to bring Bangalore close and kiss her breathless.
‘I really should have masturbated before she showed up,’ Loba thought to herself, ‘I am horny tonight.’
By some miracle above Loba managed to find the place she had in mind all along. They were about twenty minutes late, but one look at her and Bangalore and the bouncer holding up a line that went around the block opened up the velvet ropes and let them in, to the dismay of the people still waiting. From the outside Loba could hear the bass thrumming through the walls; inside it was so loud she thought it was changing the very tempo of her heart. There wasn’t a single place that wasn’t packed with bodies, spilling out over sets of circular tables and cushioned chairs and gathered heavily on a semi-circular, LED-lit bar and a dance floor that was packed with people like a can of sardines.
That wasn’t the destination though.
Loba tugged Bangalore along, over towards an offshoot of the club. Across this wall there were private booths and tables that had to be paid for, but even then that wasn’t the stop. What Loba was gunning for was a door hidden behind some red curtains, and when she was in front of it she flashed a card she kept in a pocket of her dress and it opened not a second later. Inside was much more manageable. The noise was minimal aside from a few people eagerly conversing in the corner and the bass still coming through the walls. There was a private bar set in the corner, tended by an actual human bartender, and three sets of booths in rooms that were about the side of a small bedroom. The lighting was low LED and tinted pink.
“Well, this defeats the purpose of clubbing, doesn’t it?” Bangalore said matter-of-factly as Loba took her over to the middle booth. There was a screen on the side of the glossy black table that said ‘Andrade’ on it. The moment her ass touched the vibrant blue, leather cushions the bartender was over with a pad of paper in hand.
“Get you anything, ma’am?”
“Talos snow-berry wine for me. Whatever top-shelf whiskey you have for her,” Loba said, then turned to Anita as the bartender rushed away, “If you want to be stacked in there amongst all those sweaty people, be my guest. I’ll stick in here until I’m ready to dance.”
Bangalore shrugged, leaning her elbow on the back of the cushions and resting her head in her hand, “I just think this is all a little too excessive for me.”
“Live in my world for a night, Annie, and the cannon is all yours,” Loba smirked.
She could see the determination in Bangalore’s eyes light with a new fire. She would have laughed if it weren’t for the appearance of the bartender again, setting the drinks in front of them and briskly walking away after asking them if they needed anything else. Loba picked up her glass of wine, circled it in its bowl, and took a long sip. Ah. Perfection.
Loba eyed Bangalore as she picked up her own whiskey tumbler, bringing it close to her nose and sniffing it first. Her lip quirked for a second and Bangalore squinted her eyes at the drink. When she sipped it, it was with so much caution that Loba found herself giggling.
“It’s not going to bite you, sweetie,” Loba said.
Bangalore scowled, setting the drink down, “You sure about that?”
She rolled her tongue around in her mouth. Loba laughed even harder.
“I guess you are too used to whatever Witt cooks up in his bathtub, huh?” Loba said, enjoying another sip of her wine.
“His is bad too. Just better than this,” Bangalore said.
They sat in a comfortable silence, turning their attention to the one-way glass that showcased the other half of the club. From there they could see people getting on with their night: some so drunk they could hardly stand, others trying and failing to get someone to come home with them, and more than a few dancing as though the spirit had taken them. Loba chuckled to herself and shook her head, watching as yet another younger-looking man tried and failed to get the attention of a scantily-clad woman, who turned up her nose and went back towards a group of friends before he could finish his sentence.
“Keep at it,” Loba said, “Someone for everyone.”
“Is that why you sit here? People-watching?” Bangalore asked. There was no accusation. Just pure curiosity.
“It’s certainly a plus.”
Bangalore scooted closer and Loba’s skin turned goose-pimpled. She tilted her head back and Bangalore was so close their noses almost touched. Brown eyes had been staring at the window, but then they met hers and Loba could see her cheeks start to dust darker.
“Um,” Bangalore returned to her previous position, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be. Come get a closer look,” Loba said. She hoped it didn’t sound too desperate.
Loba was disappointed when Bangalore didn’t get as close as she did the first time, but still their thighs were almost touching and that was enough to make Loba thrum. A smile found its way to her face and refused to leave and as she stared out the one way mirror she was thinking of all the ways she could potentially ravish Bangalore tonight— should she have her. Without her really thinking about it her hand drifted to the side, caressing its way along Bangalore’s knee. And there it remained, Bangalore not making any effort to remove it.
‘There,’ Loba thought to herself, ‘Progress.’
For a while they sat, remarking on the people within the club and enjoying the copious amounts of refills that came their way, not once the thought of actually getting to clubbing themselves crossing their minds. Though, buzzing with a fair amount of wine in her belly, Loba could feel the drunk spirit within her wanting to tear up the dance floor. However, there was a different matter that needed to be attended to first, one that also related to the over-consumption of alcohol— she needed to use the bathroom.
“Mhm, I’ll be back in a moment, Linda, ” Loba said, though she didn’t want to leave Bangalore’s side at all. She pushed herself free from the booth. Turned to see Bangalore’s curious— and adorable—face.
“Where are you going?” Bangalore asked between another sip of whiskey.
“Bathroom, I’ll be just a minute. Don't worry your beautiful little head,” Loba assured her.
Loba could feel eyes on her back as she headed outside of the private room and she made sure to capitalize on it with an exaggerated bump of her hips with every step she took. Her ears rang with the power of the bass the moment she stepped back outside the club, that drunk spirit within saying ‘dance, dance! Dance like nobody's watching!’ Loba shook it off, finding the bathroom in the very back of the club and walking into a gaggle of girls crowded around the mirror, far too loud for her liking and a bit too eager to see her despite having never met her in their lives. Loba dealt with it with smiles and politeness as always, but the moment she was in a less-than-stellarly clean stall she was grumbling— she had forgotten that the private room had its own bathroom.
A few minutes to finish business and she was out into the club again, once more staring at that dance floor with longing. The thought of pulling Bangalore there, pressed so close they could see the pores on their faces, Loba showing off her expert choreography in Brazilian funk and Bangalore barely restraining her need to have her hands all over her, was so exciting Loba almost shook with it. It was enough to put a pep in her step that tore her away from the allure of the floor and she rushed back to the private room. It took some playing around with her pockets until she was able to fish her card from the depths of them, and when she flashed it and the door opened Loba was ready to rush in and grab Bangalore by the arms and drag her out.
At least, she would have been, had it not been for the sight of someone else sitting in the booth with Bangalore.
Tall, pretty enough that Loba had to give her some credit for it, and wearing a dress that left so little to the imagination she might as well have been naked. At any other point in time seeing a woman like that may have excited Loba a little bit, or at the least made her admire her choice of attire. Now? Loba watched as the lady laughed an exaggerated laugh at whatever Bangalore said in reply, leaning forward with one arm pressed against her chest to hike a boob up and the other gripping Bangalore’s bicep.
Now, all she could feel was territorial.
Loba was a woman of class, though. She wouldn’t outright rush to the lady and rip her from the booth. Instead, Loba started a slow stride, electing to listen in even as the fire burned hotter and hotter within her.
“Well, aren’t you just a depot for good company?” The lady purred.
What the hell did that even mean? That made no sense.
“Heh, yeah, I guess,” Bangalore said, picking up her whiskey and sipping it and eyeing the hand on her bicep all the same. Bangalore had a talent for stoicness; it made it difficult to see whether she was enjoying the friendliness or not.
‘Better not,’ Loba thought to herself. It was getting harder and harder to keep her stride slow.
“I’m thinking maybe you and I can find a place a little more private than this?”
“There’s somewhere more private? Sheesh, and I thought this was excessive,” Bangalore said, looking around for effect.
Bless her heart, she was so dense sometimes. Too bad it was only cute when it was towards her.
“Excuse me,” Loba said, breaking out into a broad smile even when she didn’t mean to, “I believe you are in my seat.”
Bangalore and the lady looked back at her, Bangalore somewhat surprised and the lady— oh, she had no right to look as annoyed as she did. The smile fell from Loba’s face in an instant.
“Oh, am I?” The lady feigned ignorance.
Loba pointed towards the very large lettering that marked her name, “Yes, in fact. You are. Now get out of my spot.”
“Lo-“ Bangalore started warily.
“I take it you don’t know who I am?” The lady said, with a sickening sweet smile that Loba wanted to reach out and claw off herself.
Loba gave one back that she figured looked way more deranged than it should have, judging by the way the lady shifted in her seat, “I take it you don’t know who I am?”
“Hey, Lo-“
“I’m sorry, I don’t know the name of every nickel night lady that blows into town.”
“Nickel night?!”
“Loba, please-“
There were a variety of insults that Loba could handle with relative ease. Any variation of derogatory names for women were brushed off, amongst the other various creative insults dealing with looks or weight or whatever else someone found erogenous enough to poke fun at . But to insinuate that she would only cost a nickel? Now that was something Loba wouldn’t take lightly. Her intention to resolve this through thinly-veiled threats and stern words went out the window. Between the wine and the fires of jealousy clawing at her stomach, her urge to dance intensified, except this type of dance was a different, more familiar one.
Loba seized the lady’s shoulder, tugging her out of the booth. A wild grab was made for one of her braids, but years of fighting gave Loba enough sense to avoid such a basic move. Before the lady could even blink, Loba had her back to the floor, a shin to her neck, and the stiletto that Loba kept in her heel pointed towards her face.
“I’ll show you a-!”
“Loba!”
Strong hands groped underneath her arms and yanked her off the lady, who was wheezing and gasping and making some sort of noise that was probably a threat to sic her lawyer father on her or whatever ace she had up her sleeve. Loba didn’t pay it much mind. Rather, she enjoyed the feeling of Bangalore holding her so close, having transferred her hands from her arms to wrap around her chest once she pulled her close enough.
“Are you nuts?! Why the hell do you have a knife?!”
Loba could think of the many, many reasons life gave her a reason to always carry a knife, but she elected to stay silent, melting into Bangalore's grasp. Loba could feel her heart pounding against her back, each breath she drew in. The feeling of those strong muscles holding her close— oh, was Loba a lucky woman.
Several patrons that were occupying the private room along with them crowded around the lady, who was now crying crocodile tears and blubbering about ‘how she was doing nothing wrong’ and that ‘she attacked me for no reason!’ Across the private bar area the bartender was speaking in hushed tones on a radio, no doubt calling security to their location. Loba didn’t mind it either.
“Let’s get out of here, Annie,” Loba said, leaning her head back so her lips ghosted along her jaw, “I think we may not be welcome anymore.”
—
“It was the wine. I blame the wine,” Loba said, tapping a few buttons to get her ship to hover on stand-by mode. Outside the viewing glass was the dark landscape of the desert, the moon illuminating the sands blue and the few trees that pocked the landscape mere black silhouettes. Loba pushed out of her pilot’s chair and over to a different one, the one that had the controls to engage her gauss-cannons.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Bangalore said for perhaps the thirtieth time since they left the club two hours ago, “I didn’t even know she was flirting.”
“And that’s why I had to step in, Linda . No one flirts with Loba Andrade’s plus one.”
Loba wanted to say date, but she was afraid Bangalore’s brain was already under its maximum stress load and if she dared insinuate that they were on a date she might have an aneurysm right then and there in her ship's cockpit. After typing in a series of combinations and overriding several warnings, her ship flashed the all clear sign at her— the cannons were armed and ready.
“You bragged for weeks how much you liked that club, and you got us both banned for life before we’ve even been there an hour,” Bangalore muttered.
“Please, don’t act like being banned is such a big loss to you,” Loba said.
Not to mention her own ‘banned for life’ count was past what she could reasonably number; most of them clubs, some casinos, and one a grocery store. Adding this club onto the list was no loss to Loba, fancy private room or not. It would take only a day of searching before Loba would find something similar, if not better.
Loba stepped out of the chair, whirling it around so it faced Bangalore. The ‘I’m mad at you’ persona dropped the instant the option to sit was presented towards her, and Bangalore plopped onto the seat and spun to the control panel, grabbing onto the trigger-shaped joysticks. Outside, thin red beams painted themselves across the sky and onto the surface of the trees.
“Besides, it worked out well for you, didn’t it? You only had to stay in the club for an hour to use my cannons,” Loba said, leaning to rest her chin on the back of the chair.
Bangalore hummed low in her throat, “I guess.”
Loba smiled at the wavering of excitement in her voice. She was getting a feel for the controls, moving them this way and that and dragging the red beams across the desert to multiple targets. For a moment, Loba wondered what would get Bangalore wetter tonight: if Loba actually managed to convince into her bed, or firing those cannons.
Scratch that. Loba wasn’t sure if she wanted that answer.
“Next time, lay off the wine,” Bangalore said as an afterthought, locking the cannons onto one of the trees.
“Oh, there will be a next time?” Loba asked.
The ship rumbled, a muffled popping sound echoing from the outside as the tree exploded into dust and shards of bark. Bangalore had a look of unrestrained glee on her face that made Loba’s heart skip a beat.
“Yeah, sure,” Bangalore brushed her off.
A wild grin stretched across Loba’s face. Oh, she was going to hold her to that. What else could she get her to agree to?
For insurance, Loba pulled out her phone and pressed record, “And after you finish with the cannons you’ll dance with me in my living room, yes?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, Lo,” Bangalore said, voice as though she were dreaming.
Loba ended the recording, the grin now tempered into a smirk.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
The ship rumbled as Bangalore fired the cannons again with an excited whoop.