by Radclyffe
"You're beautiful," Sloan whispered, finding the words completely inadequate.
Michael colored slightly, inordinately pleased. Why did a compliment from Sloan make her heart beat faster?
"Thank you," Michael said, reaching for Sloan's hand and pulling her inside. "I'll just be a minute. I have to get my things."
Sloan stopped just inside the door, watching Michael move about the room, graceful and sure, as she seemed to be in everything she did. Sloan reminded herself that she was a friendly escort only, and that she had best keep her eyes above shoulder level for the rest of the evening. Her inability to control her autonomic nervous system around Michael Lassiter was becoming embarrassing, and more than a bit physically uncomfortable. Unfortunately, avoiding Michael's body wasn't enough to place her beyond danger, because just looking at Michael's face could devastate her. It went beyond her classic features and her flawless skin and her breathtakingly beautiful blue eyes; there was a tenderness in her gaze and a gentleness in her voice that laid soothing hands on Sloan's wounded places, tempting her to believe in miracles.
"Sloan?" Michael inquired lightly, surprised to see her still at the door and wondering at Sloan's hesitation to enter the room. It was so unusual for her to appear uncertain. "Do you need anything?"
Sloan shook her head, thinking, if you only knew. Quickly, to hide her agitation, she answered, "I'm sorry. No, nothing. I'm fine."
Michael wasn't sure she believed her, but she simply nodded, tossed a light jacket over her arm, and closed the door firmly behind them. She was going out with friends and she intended to have a wonderful time. As they walked to the elevator, she glanced sideways at Sloan, struck suddenly by her bold strong profile and panther-like fluidity. She thought again how attractive Sloan was in that dangerous sort of way that wild animals had. She had always been tempted to put her hands through the bars of the leopard's cage at the zoo just to feel those sleek, stalking muscles ripple under her fingers. It had always made her just a little breathless. Looking at Sloan was like that – being with her was a little like that too. No one, male or female, had ever quite captivated her attention the way Sloan seemed able to do. Being with her, talking with her, simply sharing Chinese take out in a deserted office building seemed to produce a slight shimmer of excitement. When Sloan looked at her with that piercingly intent stare, Michael felt like she was the only thing that mattered to her.
Michael caught her breath at that thought, realizing that she had unwittingly been thinking of the evening almost as a date. She laughed inwardly at her own foolishness. She had never been attracted to a woman before, and even if she were, Sloan had more than enough women to choose from without giving her a second thought. Silly.
"Michael?" Sloan asked, faint concern in her voice. "Are you all right?"
Michael returned from her unconscious reverie to find Sloan standing by the curb, holding the passenger side door of her Porsche open, a slightly bemused expression on her face.
"Yes, of course." She smiled and slid into the roadster, ignoring the slight tingle in her arm where Sloan's fingers brushed against her skin.
As they drove across town, Michael watched the city life through the window. Men and women in elegant evening wear hurried to the theatre, teenagers bedecked in all manner of piercings, tattoos and outrageous outfits crowded the sidewalks, and tourists watched the other passersby with curious fascination. Everywhere couples held hands, heads bent close, laughing and talking in that intimately exclusive manner that only lovers shared. Michael was suddenly envious of something she had never been aware of missing before - that unique connection to another human being that defies definition, but is so common to human understanding that poets and writers and composers have tried to capture it for centuries. She ached in some primal place that her rational mind, with the reminder of all her accomplishments, could not assuage.
"Are Sarah and Jason dating?" she asked abruptly, searching for something to take her mind from the emptiness she had no inkling how to fill.
Sloan was silent for a second, recalling Sarah's excitement when she informed Sloan that she had asked Jason to go with her to the benefit. She replayed the conversation in her mind, deciding how much to reveal in answer to Michael's question. Sarah had been standing next to her in the locker room before their workout, barely able to contain her enthusiasm as she told Sloan the story.
"He tried to tell me he couldn't because Jasmine was performing, but I knew damn well there were two hours during dinner and the speeches before the Cabaret routine. And then, there's the gala afterwards. I think he actually squirmed when I pointed that out to him." Sarah's eyes had twinkled with laughter at the memory.
"That would explain his twitchiness at the office all day," Sloan had remarked. "Every time I spoke to him, he jumped. I think he might even have spilled his coffee once. For Mr. Perfection, that's unusual."
Sarah's face had clouded, and Sloan was instantly sorry she had said anything.
"Why is he so nervous, Sloan? We get along so well, and he knows I know about Jasmine."
Sloan remembered trying to ignore the question, hoping Sarah would let it go. She busied herself pulling on her sweats and workout gloves, pretending not to notice the shadow of Sarah's figure standing motionless beside her. Damn, they were both her friends, and her loyalties were conflicted.
"I really like him, Sloan," Sarah had whispered softly. "It's the first time I've felt that way in so long."
Fuck. Sloan had straightened with a sigh and looked her old friend in the eye. "I told you once that he never dated anyone who knew about Jasmine. That's not exactly true. He dated a clerk in the Justice Department about the time I was -- leaving. It was serious. They were even talking marriage. He eventually told her about Jasmine, and she totally decompensated. She actually filed a complaint against him in some kind of weird sexual harassment twist, claiming that he had used his position as her superior to unfairly involve her in an unhealthy relationship."
"Jesus," Sarah had uttered in disbelief.
"Yeah. It was absurd, and really carried no merit, but it ruined him. I heard about it through the rumor mill, at least the part of it that wasn't busy talking about me. I looked him up, and we decided it was time for both of us to disappear. We cleared out and six months later started the business."
Sarah had nodded. "I always wondered how the two of you ended up here together. So much has happened while I was away." She didn’t need to add that Sloan had never volunteered the details, and probably never would.
Sloan had looked away, her eyes darkening for an instant. "There isn't much to tell."
Sarah knew that wasn't true, but she had let it go. Sloan would tell her the rest when she was ready, and if she didn't, it didn't matter. She didn't need to hear Sloan's side of things to know that the rumors she had heard as far away as Thailand were false. She didn't press, and Sloan had let the subject drop gratefully.
Sloan shook off the memories and looked over at Michael, who was patiently waiting for her to answer. She shrugged. "I'm not sure if they are or not. They're going out together tonight, and I know Sarah is interested in him. I have a feeling it will all come down to Jason's willingness to trust her."
Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Not always an easy thing to do for anyone, and it must be so much harder for him."
"Yes," Sloan agreed with a sigh, pulling to a stop before the broad entrance to the stately pavilion. She glanced at Michael, aware of the slight air of melancholy that clung to her. She reached for her hand impulsively, drawing Michael around in the small front seat to face her. They were only inches apart, and neither of them paid any attention to the young man in the short red jacket standing impatiently near Sloan's door, waiting to valet park her car.
Sloan looked into Michael's eyes, her voice deep and strong. "If there's something possible between them, Sarah will know what to do to help it grow. She's got a gift that way. Now, I am going to take you inside and let everyone wonder how I have somehow m
anaged to get the most beautiful woman in the room to sit at my table."
Michael blushed, thinking that Sarah wasn't the only one with a gift for knowing just the right thing to say. Then her smile erupted like the sun after a long cold winter, warming Sloan to her core.
"Since I could say the same thing about you, I think we should go show off a bit," Michael said, squeezing Sloan's hand.
Sloan stared at her for a moment before bursting into pleased laughter. "Now there's an offer I can't refuse!"
As they walked up the broad expanse of marble staircase into the vaulted reception area, Michael slipped her arm through Sloan's, a gesture as unconscious and natural as anything she had ever done. If Michael felt Sloan's quick jerk of surprise or the slight trembling in the muscles under her fingers, she didn't show it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN THEY ARRIVED, the enormous ballroom was nearly full. Magnificent chandeliers, ablaze with candle-shaped bulbs, hung above the dozens of tables that fronted the stage. Men and women, elegantly turned out, wandered about, greeting friends or taking advantage of the opportunity to network. The evening was primarily a benefit for the myriad city agencies dealing with the multi-dimensional challenge of AIDS treatment, but it was also an important venue for the many factions seeking supporters in the political arena as well. There were a generous number of women in tuxedos as well as designer dresses. The men were mostly in tuxedos, although here and there representatives of the leather community strode about in full regalia, offering a striking counterpoint to the mainstream appearance of the majority. Were it not for the many women walking hand-in-hand, or the men with arms slung casually around their partner's waist, it might have passed for any fundraiser.
Jason and Sarah were already seated at the table Sloan had reserved near the front of the room. Jason, as always, looked GQ handsome in a black tuxedo. Sarah wore a simple dress in flattering tones of blue and green that accentuated her pale skin and emerald eyes. They both greeted Sloan and Michael with enthusiasm.
"God, this is wonderful," Sarah remarked. She looked around the room, continuing, "It's incredible to see so many people here in support."
She looked at both Sloan and Michael, thinking briefly what an amazingly attractive couple they were before reminding herself that they weren't a couple at all. But there was an easy connection between them that seemed apparent to her, although clearly not to them. Sloan watched Michael with obvious pleasure as Michael slipped into the seat beside Jason, and Michael looked over at Sloan with a soft smile that would have been seductive coming from anyone other than Michael. On her it merely seemed sweet, and lovely. Sarah was astonished to see Sloan blush. She thought that might be a first for her very imperturbable friend.
Sarah was aware of Jason fidgeting nearly imperceptibly next to her, and she said to him in a low voice, "Are you nervous about the performance?"
He laughed slightly, but his eyes were tense. "Not Jasmine's," he replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Sarah looked at him a moment, then touched his arm as she understood his meaning. "Jason, you needn't worry about anything with me. I may kiss on the first date, but that's as far as it goes."
Her soft smile did more to set his mind at ease than even her words, though those helped too. He thought she was quite the most attractive woman he had seen in forever, and he couldn't understand what was making him so nervous around her. She was smart and sexy and kind and he liked her laugh and the way she had of looking at him with a whimsical invitation in her eyes. And she knew about Jasmine. Then he realized that he wanted to kiss her, and that fact was more frightening than he could imagine. Could she really accept, or even understand, what a part of him Jasmine was?
He shied his gaze away from her warm welcoming eyes, glancing first at the mass of people milling about between the tables but seeing none of them before his attention finally focused on Sloan. He had always thought her compellingly good-looking, but tonight she looked exceptionally arresting. Her wavy black hair was sleekly brushed back from her temples, falling in casual layers to her collar, and a shock or two hung rakishly over her forehead. Her perfectly fitted tux accentuated her lean, taut body and he was reminded of the first time he had seen her. She had been leaning against the bar in a crowded club on Dupont Circle, cool and cocky and sexy as hell in tight leather pants and a white shirt that clung to her chest and was open tantalizingly low between small high breasts. Jasmine had looked particularly hot that night as well, and it hadn't taken long to catch Sloan's eye. Maybe he should have said no to her invitation to dance, but whatever part of him was Jasmine had wanted to know what it felt like to be held in her arms. Then they were dancing, and their bodies fit together like the intricate curves of two puzzle pieces, thigh between thigh, hip against hip. As they were nearly the same height, it was easy for Jasmine to dip her head and lean her cheek in the bend of Sloan's neck and shoulder. By the end of the dance they were both breathing hard and Sloan let her intentions be known. In a voice low and husky she had asked Jasmine to come home with her.
And the wonderful fantasy had shattered. Jasmine, despite her attraction, could not go home with her. Sloan was practically radiating sexual energy, but Jasmine had demurred, and Jason had never expected to see Sloan again. When they had met by chance while at work, he had initially been terrified by her anger. When she finally understood that he had not maliciously intended to deceive her, she had simply accepted that Jasmine somehow existed in her own right, a conscious but powerfully-defined part of his personality. It was the first time in his life that had ever happened. She had freed some part of him to hope that someone could actually know his secrets and accept him.
Now he sat across from her, admiring her still, knowing that the small spark of desire she still ignited was just one part of his attraction to her. She had saved his career, and his sanity, and perhaps his life that day she came looking for him in the Department of Justice and had offered him a way forward out of the lie. Joining her in business had been the best thing he had ever done.
He jumped slightly when Sloan leaned toward him and said softly, "So, how you holding up?"
"Fine," he responded, coloring quickly. Jesus, did everyone have to know what was going on? He noticed gratefully that Michael didn't seem to be watching him at all. She was clearly fascinated by the diverse and colorful crowd. Come to think of it, when she wasn't watching the throng, her attention was pretty much riveted on Sloan. Ohh god, she is way too naïve for the likes of Sloan!
He couldn't cope with all the conflicting emotions, and turning to Sarah, he said quietly, "Would you walk around with me for a few minutes before I need to go back stage?"
"Sure," she said with a quick smile.
He smiled back, inordinately relieved, and surprisingly pleased. Sarah seemed like the only solid ground in a very rapidly shifting landscape. Impulsively, he took her hand, and they slipped into the stream of people passing by.
Michael watched them go, then turned to Sloan. "Jason seems nervous. I'd think it was sweet if I didn't have a feeling that he was actually frightened. I feel for him."
Sloan studied her. She was coolly beautiful, and yet there was warmth in the depth of her eyes and the timbre of her voice. She was an amazing blend of contrasts. "You are very perceptive."
"Am I?" Michael asked with just the hint of a tease in her voice. "Am I correct then in surmising that you are a little nervous too?"
Sloan was taken aback by Michael's intuitiveness, and her frankness. She wasn't used to anyone being able to read her so well. It both pleased and worried her. To be known, to be understood, was a powerfully seductive emotion. It could make you careless, and it could make you vulnerable. That was a place she never wanted to be again. "Nervous? Perhaps," she allowed with a slight inclination of her head. "But I'm not afraid."
"I wouldn't imagine there is much that could make you nervous, and nothing that would frighten you," Michael remarked quite seriously.
Sloan's eyes darkened. "I
am not invincible, or even particularly brave." She stared at Michael, forgetting her earlier vow not to look into her eyes. She forgot her intention to be cautious as well. "You are threatening, but in a most pleasant way," she murmured.
Michael leaned closer, so drawn by Sloan's intent gaze that she lost track of the activity and conversation around her. Everything receded from her view except a violet so deep it was a siren's song beckoning her to the cliffs. "Why?" she whispered.
"Your loveliness captures the imagination and your kindness soothes the soul," Sloan managed through a throat tight with sudden desire. Her head was spinning, her belly was churning, and she felt heat and want pool in her depths. She barely stifled a moan. Drawing a ragged breath, she whispered, "You are very beautiful, in so many ways."
Michael stepped closer to the edge, not even realizing the danger. "If I am, you're the first that's ever said so."
"Then you've been surrounded by fools," Sloan murmured, reaching a hand to trace the line of Michael's jaw. Her fingers trembled. Michael leaned forward to accept the caress, her lips parted slightly, her skin flushed. Her pupils were wide, dark, endless, beckoning Sloan to fall into them. Michael appeared so vulnerable in that instant that Sloan drew back with a nearly audible gasp. God almighty, what am I doing?
At that moment Sarah returned, sliding back into her seat as she announced, "Jasmine is getting dressed for the show. I wanted to stay and watch but she said 'no'."
She might have been invisible. Sarah stared from one to the other, suddenly aware of the unearthly stillness surrounding them. "You two okay?" she asked quietly.
Michael was the first to regain her composure. Her smile was just a bit shaky. "Yes, of course."
Somehow Sarah didn't believe that, but the expression on Sloan's face convinced her not to question the statement. She had never been one to taunt the animals.