“Whaaaat are you doing?” Helena drawled quietly. She tapped the pads of her fingers against her wine glass.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just…let’s…wait for Alice and Shane.” Bette stammered. She downed her glass of wine in three gulps, taking the excuse for pouring more as a reason to move away from Helena’s side. Helena smelled good as well—some kind of perfume, something not quite feminine, not entirely masculine. Her jeans were tight, she smelled good, and Bette was almost positive she wore no bra underneath her shirt.

Helena’s eyes trailed after Bette.  She was dressed in a simple tshirt, cardigan and pair of jeans.  Her hair was pulled back in the cutest way.  She looked absolutely beautiful.

“So…Tina? And what’s going on with Jodi?”

Bette’s smile was coy. “Jodi is fine. She’s in New York for a while…not sure when we’re seeing one another.  And Tina is my ex-girlfriend. Yours as well, I might add.”

“yeah, yeah, well I don’t have the effect on her that you do.” Helena’s eyes strayed to the soft skin of Bette’s neck.  She decided to look back at the pool instead.  Part of her kind of liked the idea of Tina and Bette getting back together.

“Sure you do. Sometimes I see her looking at you, in this familiar kind of way. I don’t mind it anymore, but it used to piss me off.”

“Soooorry.” Helena snickered, anything but sorry. She met Bette’s eyes, holding her gaze for a few seconds longer than she meant to. A third generous helping of wine was poured into Helena’s glass while Bette smiled at her.

Why on earth hadn’t she tried to sleep with this woman when she first met her? She was obviously beyond gorgeous, and just Helena’s type—strong, independent, and utterly unattainable. Helena tried in vain to create poetry to describe how beautiful Bette was.  Who cared if she played games in her own head?  Looking up at the stars, feeling increasingly bold from the wine, she compared Bette to a huntress, or perhaps a small planet. Oops, nope, that was just a satellite. Helena snickered to herself.

“You’re so drunk.” Bette shifted closer to Helena, feeling a chill in the air suddenly.  Her head swam a little, but more importantly, she felt that peculiar sense of freedom that comes with a good buzz.  She paused, then moved closer as Helena’s hand wandered.  “you must be drunk…because your hand is on my thigh.”

“Just testing the waters.” Helena said demurely. “I’m feeling very fragile, so how about I drop the seductress act and just do this…” She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek on Bette’s shoulder instead.

“M’k.” Bette agreed. She shifted so that they could sit more comfortably. And she tried to ignore the overwhelming urge to kiss Helena. It might be some kind of rescuing instinct, she worried—some maternal urge to save Helena from herself. It didn’t fucking feel maternal, but Bette knew that others would think it was. She worried about what they thought, and going after Tina’s ex-girlfriend would raise far too many eyebrows.  Besides, the instinct that was kicking in, while not maternal, felt a little too predatory—as though she was taking advantage of Helena.

“do you always privilege the perspectives of everyone around you?” Helena asked quietly. Her eyes were narrowed; she watched how light played on water. “What I mean is, do you always care so much about what others believe you should or should not do?”

Bette sipped her wine. She thought about that question. 

“yes.” She answered. Her next sip was more like a chug.

Helena sighed in response. Bette could smell the spicy undertones of Helena’s hair, the earthy scent of her skin. Her mind began working overtime.  She thought about what Tina would say, what Alice would say.  She thought about all those times that her friends had slept with one of the group, just because they wanted to.  Any other time, under any other circumstances, with any other person, a little bit of friendly flirting could have turned into a little bit more.  A one night stand, with an open ended breakfast—one of those late night things that overtook two people, sometimes leading to more, sometimes not.

“You know what…” Bette stammered, holding her hands in front of her. Helena made no move. “Is this some sort of girlfriend swapping thing?”

Helena smiled, barely concealing her annoyance. Placing her hands on her knees, she rose to her feet, and walked away.