Story Notes:
I can't figure out italics here for the life of me. I'm old. If you want to see the italicized version (I typically italicize foreign languages and words I emphasize) go read the AO3 version. But I want to continue to support this site. So here I am.
Chapter One: Regret

New York City, October 2043

It was a slow thing. The realization she was being lifted up and out of sleep. There had been no nightmares, none that she could remember, at least. It was a dark, weighty sort of sleep, and when her eyes blinked open, she realized the feeling wasn’t entirely invented. A slender, dark-skinned arm was draped across Laura’s naked chest. As Laura’s eyes traveled upward, she realized it belonged to a woman. She was sleeping and she was beautiful, miles of dark skin, dark hair, eyes closed, lashes grazing her cheeks, pink lips slightly parted open. She was on her side, lying flush up against Laura’s own mocha coloring. They were both naked.


Laura tried to think. There had been a few bars. Had there been… a gay club? Now that she thought about it, the strobe lighting and the glass floor alit with neon flashed across her mind. Fuck. Rictor had dragged her in; she had remembered that. Then he’d gone cruising for some boy to take home. And there had been more drinks… and she had been? Where? An image of Laura murmuring something in Spanish to the woman as she took her hand and led her out into the blinking lights of New York City appeared in Laura’s mind. There had been more Spanish, more flirting…even…Laura glanced to the empty wine glasses on the bedside table, lipstick smudged on the rim. And then…god… she had lowered her on the bed, dove between the woman’s legs. She’d made the woman writhe, and later, she had paid Laura in kind.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK. She promised herself she wasn’t gonna do this anymore. Wasn’t gonna take advantage of another one.

Pero es tan facil, whispered el animal.

¡Cállate! Laura thought. You got what you wanted, so shut the fuck up. I need to think.

She needed to get the woman--who she was sure was a nice person and all-- out of her apartment, as soon as fucking possible. For a couple of damn good reasons. One, Laura didn’t do mornings. This had been a tremendous lapse in judgement. It was probably because she had been so exhausted these past couple of weeks with all the shit going on at the mansion. Fatigue, even with a healthy healing factor, had been biting at her heels for a while now. Maybe that was why she had fallen asleep without sending this chick packing beforehand. And as for the other reason... Laura knew she had to meet Dani and Rictor, if he was in any better shape, in about an hour to see about a potential alliances with a mutant who might be able to save their asses when it came to getting the Blackbird up and running. She hadn’t meant to stay out that late, hadn’t meant to take anybody home with her, hadn’t meant…

Suddenly, the woman sighed contently, pulling Laura a bit closer to her body. Laura squirmed, immensely uncomfortable. Laura didn’t do cuddling, either. She let out a frustrated sigh, realizing there was no good way to slip out of her arms without waking the woman beside who was still practically a stranger.

Well, it’s gonna be the hard way then.

Laura sighed once more, before, as gently as possible, picking up the dark, slender arm currently snaked between Laura’s breasts. She set it aside as carefully as she could. For a moment, the woman seemed to stir, and Laura held her breath, but then seemed to settle back into sleep. Moving to sit up, Laura couldn’t help but groan a little as she stood, stretching for a moment in the bedroom of the apartment she hardly frequented anymore. It was then that Laura took inventory. She frowned as she noted the scattered clothes all over the floor. Lace bras. Ripped jeans. Stilettos. At least those weren’t hers. Finally, she noticed Logan’s dog tags, strewn on the stained carpet from where the woman had probably ripped them off her last night. Closing her eyes for another moment, silently cursing herself once more, she slowly picked up the tags and placed them again around her neck, before she quietly padded over to the dresser, snagging an old McGill sweatshirt she had on hand. But as she turned around to glance at the woman before putting it on, she noticed the woman- what the FUCK was her name again?- was awake, and staring at Laura intently, a sly, sexy smile on her face.

“Morning, honey,” she said through a grin, a flash of white teeth. Fuck. She was pretty. Laura was starting to understand how the night might have actually happened.

“Morning,” Laura said a bit too stiffly, before throwing on the sweatshirt, working it over her head, before pulling on a pair of clean underwear from the dresser as well.

“Looks like I stayed the night,” the woman said again, before her head fell back on the pillow, obviously comfortable enough.

“Looks it,” Laura managed, before picking up what she hoped were her clothes off the floor, before shoving them in the hamper in the corner of the bedroom. She could feel the tension radiating off her own body, and she hoped the woman did too. When Laura looked back her way, she realized the woman was finally getting the hint.

“You want me gone that bad, huh?” she asked honestly, moving once more to sit up, still naked, the curve of her breasts doing something to Laura’s inner animal, before she dutifully shut the beast up. Laura stalled for a moment, tightly grabbing her arm with one hand before realizing it.

“I don’t…I have a meeting today,” Laura managed to say. The woman only smirked, before stretching herself, obviously very fucking comfortable being completely naked in some fucking stranger’s bed.

“Oh yeah. Your meeting about some kind of plane,” she said. Fuck. What else had Laura drunkenly and sloppily revealed last night?

No more tequila for you, she scolded herself. Ever. Esa mierda siempre te mete en problemas.

“Just… I need to leave soon,” Laura managed, now picking up the woman’s things and throwing them in the direction of the bed. The dark-skinned woman sighed steadily, before taking the bra from the spot where Laura had flopped it on the bed, putting it on slowly before taking a better look around the place.

“For having enough means to own a plane, your apartment’s sorta a shithole,” she muttered. Laura snorted, but otherwise ignored the comment, choosing instead to stalk into the bathroom momentarily and flick on the faucet, running her hands under the water, before running them through her hair. She didn’t even bother looking at herself. She knew she looked like shit. Finally, she snapped off the water and walked back into the bedroom to find the woman mostly dressed, thank fuck.

“I don’t live here anymore,” Laura tried to explain. “This place is just…”

“Where you hook up with random women?” she asked through another sly smile.

“No,” Laura said, now thoroughly tired of this person, wishing beyond hope that she would leave. And quickly. “Just a place to…be alone.”

“Alone?” the woman asked, before arching a brow in suspicion.

“It’s not what you think,” Laura grumbled, crossing her arms as she did so.

“Well, you aren’t alone right now,” the woman teased, even as she threw on the sheer sweater that Laura had been so intoxicated by the night before. Another flash of Laura slowly snaking her hands up it and over the woman’s smooth, toned stomach flashed across her mind.

“I know,” Laura practically growled.

“Ok, ok, honey,” the woman smiled again. “I’ll scoot.”

A few minutes later the woman was fully dressed, stilettos back on and bag in hand. She was rifling through her purse, Laura assumed for her keys, and Laura had already rudely opened the door for her, showing her the way out. The woman, however, lingered in the tiny kitchen, much to Laura’s dismay. Instead of heading towards the door, she seemed to realize she could torture Laura by stepping in closer to her, so close Laura could hear her pulse in her veins.

“So where’s home really?” she asked finally.

“None of your business,” Laura muttered.

“Honey, I think I at least know a little of your business,” she smiled sweetly, before running a hand down Laura’s front, cupping a beast for a moment through her bulky sweatshirt.

Laura only rolled her eyes, leaning back a bit, before finally grounding out the phrase, “Upstate.” At this, the woman’s curiosity seemed to spike as her smile dissipated some, curiosity growing in her eyes.

“That right?”

“Westchester,” Laura managed.

“Hmmm. So you are from some money,” the woman said, a little too knowingly. “Daddy let you have this apartment in town to get away from being spoon-fed off that silver platter every once in a while?”

Laura physically winced at this, as the weight of the dog tags around her neck suddenly felt a bit heavier. Whatever the woman was playing at, Laura didn’t need this shit. Her anger grew in that moment, and now she was unable to help the small growl that escaped from her lips.

“Wouldn’t quite say that,” Laura finally managed, before gesturing again toward the open door. Once more, the woman only offered her a smirk, before leaning in close, close enough to kiss Laura, before turning her head slightly and whispering in her ear.

“It was something,” she whispered. Laura only took to leaning back again, crossing her arms rudely.

“Something. Yeah, listen it was fun and all, but-” she began, before the woman cut Laura off.

“It’s whatever baby. See ya,” she said sweetly, blowing Laura a quick kiss before sauntering down the hallway. Laura watched her for a moment, before rolling her eyes and shutting the door behind her.

For a moment, she simply stood there, back to the door, before bringing her hands to her face and running them down it slowly.

She was a fucking addict. Just couldn’t stop.

Al menos sabes lo que eres, el animal whispered.

Laura growled in frustration, glancing at the sun in the sky and realizing it was probably later than she guessed. Without another thought about it, she walked away from the door. With what little time she had left, she was intent on a shower and, finally, a few precious, important moments alone. Completely and undoubtedly alone.
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