Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The gravel crunched beneath Sophie’s worn out Keds. She was pretty sure that she would end up with a hole in the bottom of at least one of them by the time she reached the next town. Though, she didn’t know where or when that would be. All she knew was she was somewhere in Texas. She couldn’t be very far into it, since she only saw the “Welcome to Texas” sign on the side of the road yesterday morning when a trucker dropped her off at the rest stop just off of route 35.

A car honked as it passed by her on the long stretch of empty road ahead, making her nearly jump out of her skin from the sudden noise. Why did people insist on honking at her if they had no intention of stopping to see if she needed a ride? It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was not just a roadside jogger out for a leisurely afternoon run. Her backpack was heavy on her back, loaded up to a point that she nearly broke the zipper trying to close it. And the farther she walked, the more she cursed her parents for not purchasing rolling luggage for her back in high school for her senior trip to Mexico. Now she was stuck carrying a bulky suitcase at her side as well. She had her whole life condensed into two bags that were weighing her down and throwing off her equilibrium. But Sophie knew her own strength. She knew when she needed to suck it up and hitch a ride. Unfortunately, she could tell that it was nearing that time. Between the sunburn on her face, the 2 hours of sleep she was running on from the day before, and the ache that spread through her whole body, she was close to admitting defeat.

It had been a week and a half since she left Boston in the middle of the night and thanks to a few kind strangers (and a few not so kind), she had somehow made it to Texas with only a few scratches and a lot of stories to tell. She hated hitchhiking more than she hated walking. Something about putting her life in a stranger’s hands seemed more terrifying than the idea of getting run over. But she’d made it this far without getting killed, kidnapped, or raped— Though, that’s not to say that several perverted truckers and passerby’s hadn’t tried.

The magnum .45 she had tucked into the side of her denim shorts had so far been a life saver. Before last week, she had never even touched a gun, let alone seen one close up. However, after a series of unfortunate events, she ended up with one tucked away for protection on her journey. It wasn’t loaded and she didn’t have a clue how to use it, but acting like she did when greasy old men crossed the line had so far been enough. At one point, she scared one guy so bad he pissed his pants. Sophie hated guns, but she had to admit it was empowering to have that kind of control over someone for once. No one had ever been scared of her before. She was always sweet little Sophie from Cambridge. Class valedictorian, editor of the yearbook, homecoming queen…if only they could all see her now.

Coming to a stop, she squinted in the bright Texas sun and glanced around. Whatever road she was on, it wasn’t exactly bustling. There wasn’t a car or truck coming from either side of the street for as far as she could see, and according to the last sign she passed, the next town with a gas station wasn’t for another five miles. The blisters on the soles of her feet were starting to scream, begging her for a break. Sophie knew that if she went any farther on foot today she would end up with blood on the inside of her once pristine white sneakers.

“Shit.” she mumbled to herself, kicking a bit of gravel onto the pavement beside her. Defeated, she set her suitcase on the ground and perched herself on top of it, hunching over to give her back a much needed break. She didn’t realize how filthy she was until she got a good look at her legs— scraped and bruised and covered in dirt. Mixed with the sweat from the intense summer sun, she prayed that she could find a motel for the night. So far she’d learned that gas station sinks are a poor alternative for a shower. Hot water and real soap sounded like a dream come true right now in comparison to the cold water and foamy hand soap she’d been using.

The blurry image of a green car appeared from the opposite direction she was headed. At this point, she’d take anything anywhere. With a sigh, she stuck out her arm, shielding her eyes from the sun with the other as she gave the silent signal to ask for a ride. The car sped right by, leaving Sophie alone once again. She leaned her elbows onto her knees and grabbed the bottle she had tucked in the side pocket, taking a long swig of what used to be cold water. She’d been refilling it every chance she got just to avoid spending money she didn’t need to. Shelter and food were much more important than freshly bottled, purified water, and the $8,000 she had on her didn’t feel like a lot when she knew she needed to make it last.

Black semi-truck, white car, brown station wagon, all of them passed her by without even slowing down, ignoring her outstretched thumb as if she didn’t even exist. She couldn’t blame them, honestly. She’d seen plenty of stories on the news and in the paper. If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be too keen on giving rides to random strangers on the run either. Who knew what kind of trouble they were in. She wouldn’t want to get mixed up in someone else’s emotional baggage. And Sophie had a lot of baggage.

Nine cars had passed her by in a span of twenty minutes. If car number ten didn’t bite, she was prepared to start walking again. Hopefully she would get into the next town by sunset.

She saw a blob of red bubbling in the distance from the heat radiating off the cracked pavement. The closer it got, the clearer it became. A red pick-up truck; an older model from what she could make of it, not that she knew anything about cars. With one last shred of hope, she reached out her arm with an extended thumb again, whispering a plea to the driver to have mercy on her. At first, she thought the blinking turn signal was a cruel trick of the mind— a hallucination from exhaustion and dehydration; but the closer the truck came, the more apparent it became that the driver was actually stopping. It pulled slightly past her and the wheels scraped against the gravelly shoulder before coming to a noisy stop, leaving the blonde choking on dust and fumes as she stood up to collect her things. She double checked the waistband of her cut-off shorts for her gun before she walked quickly to the passenger side. With her luck, her savior was some farmer who went shirtless under his overalls and kept a bottle of dip spit in the cupholder. The truck was so tall that she could barely see over the ledge of the window, but from what she could see, her savior definitely wasn’t who she thought it would be.

“Girl, don’t you watch 20/20?” a thick, womanly southern drawl hit her ears through the open window, rendering her a bit speechless as bedazzled sunglasses were raised and striking blue eyes met her own.

“I-um…what?” Sophie shook her head as if to wipe it clean and start over like you would with an etch-a-sketch, wrinkling her sweaty brow at the woman in the driver’s seat.

“I just never thought I’d see a little girl like you hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere after all the horror stories you hear on the news. You could get killed out here, y’know.” The older brunette seemed more amused than concerned. Her painted lips were tilted up into a smirk as she reached over to unlatch the passenger door, taking in the sight of Sophie from across the truck. “Well, come on, then,” she waved her in with a smile, “Y’need a ride, right? Don’t know why else you’d be thumbin’ for a hitch out here.”

Sophie looked the woman up and down, keeping her hand on the concealed gun at her side. She’d never gotten picked up by a woman before. The only people who had offered her rides before had been men of all types: from middle-aged truckers with missing teeth to boys in their late teens with their minds in the gutter. This experience was so foreign, she wondered if she should pinch herself to make sure she hadn’t really passed out on the side of the road a few miles back.

“You don’t say much, do ya?” the woman spoke again, chuckling a bit at Sophie’s obvious discomfort, “Come on, I don’t bite.”

Sophie stood frozen in place, just looking at the bench seat that was waiting for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to get into the truck. Something about this woman made a red light flash in her mind, warning her of danger ahead. She hadn’t even gotten that instinctual feeling when she got into the truck of the guy she ended up having to pull the gun on. What was it about this woman…

“Darlin’ as much as I’d love to sit here all day having a starin’ contest with you, I’m gonna run outta gas soon enough and the closest station is a long walk from here.” She spoke again with a joking lilt in her tone.

Sophie flicked her tongue out over her dry lips and took one last glance down the road, looking for a sign that she should back out and thank the woman for stopping before sending her on her way. After no sign came, she sighed and lifted her suitcase up and onto the floor of the passenger side, followed by her backpack before finally hoisting herself up and into the truck.

“You can put your bags in the back if y—“

“No, thank you,” she interrupted, keeping her eyes forward.

“Ah, she speaks,” the older woman smirked. As bright as the sun was, Sophie noticed that the woman didn’t pull her sunglasses back down from where they were nested in her thick brown hair. “So…where you headed?”

Silence.

“Where ya comin’ from?”

Silence.

“Do I get a name at least? Or a ‘thank you’ for being so kind as to pick you up off the roadside?” Sophie could hear in her voice that she was just teasing, but she still felt a rush of heat fill her cheeks.

“Right, um…thank you,” she kept it simple, wiping her forehead on the back of her hand, “Sorry, I’m…a little out of sorts, I guess.” Honestly, she was embarrassed to be seen in such a state in front of this random woman. In stark contrast to Sophie’s sweaty, dirt-stained clothes, this woman looked so…put together. Nothing necessarily fancy, but her hair and makeup looked like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. She was wearing a silky rust-colored blouse that was tucked into high-waisted denim jeans. And she smelled intoxicating. Whatever perfume she was wearing, it complimented her well.

“Outta sorts seems like an understatement,” the brunette breathed a light laugh as she put the truck in drive and peeled back onto the road. “So…you gonna give me a name?”

Sophie hesitated as she held her hands tightly together in her lap. “Maybe if you give me yours first,” she muttered as bravely as she could, still unsure of what to make of the older woman.

“Ooh, you’re feisty. I like it,” she laughed, glancing back and forth between her passenger and the road ahead. “Margo.” she stated simply.

“Sophie.”

“Hi, Sophie,” Margo smiled, extending a hand for her to shake, but Sophie kept to herself, mentally kicking herself for sharing her actual name. She gave herself strict rules when she first hit the road: don’t use your real name, don’t get dropped off anywhere she intended to stay, and always be ready for anything. So far, with how disarming the woman beside her was, she only had one chance left to not be a complete failure. “Ok, how about telling me where you’re headed?”

“Out west. I’m going to see my big brother,” she nodded, confidently delivering the lie she’d practiced. She had a whole backstory thought up in case she ever needed it, complete with an extensive family tree of characters she’d made up.

“I got a brother too. Younger one, though. Kyle. Little shithead,” Margo snorted with an affectionate shake of her head. “Begged my Mama for a sister. You can only force a little boy to play dress up and tea parties with you for so long, y’know?”

Sophie felt a small smile spread on her face. She didn’t have any siblings. She was the only child of two only children. The closest thing she had to a sibling was her best friend from elementary school who lived across the street until they went to separate colleges. “Yeah,” she muttered, acting like she knew exactly what Margo was talking about, “Gotta love them, though, right?”

“Gotta love’em,” the brunette repeated, holding one hand on the steering wheel while the other dangled out of the open window. “So, where you runnin’ from, Sophie?”

“I’m not running,” she answered, her defense going up at the speed of light.

“Sure seems like you’re runnin’ fr—“

“I’m not running. From anywhere or…or anything. I’m just…I’m just going to see my brother.” The silence that followed after she snapped was heavy on her shoulders. Her hands were shaking from nerves and she felt like the entire truck was shrinking around her. Panic was settling in and she could feel herself losing control. What if Margo knew something? What if she was sent to find her? What if this was all some big conspiracy against her?

Keep it together, Sophie.

“Okay, so where are you not running from? Gotta be coming from somewhere.”

“Stop asking me questions!” she snapped again, her voice reaching a shrill decibel she didn’t even know she could reach. “Stop trying to get to know me! I just need a ride into town, I don’t need a friend, or a fucking therapist, or whatever the fuck you’re trying to be to me, okay? You offered me a ride, so just drive, okay?”

She could feel the steely blue eyes on her as they kept on down the road in silence. The only noise was Sophie’s staggered breaths and a Patsy Cline song coming in quietly over the radio. “Sophie—“ Margo started with a firm but sympathetic voice. The kind that her mom would put on when she was “not mad, just disappointed”.

“No. I don’t— Okay, you know what? Pull over.” the words were leaving her mouth faster than her brain could process. She needed to get out of this truck and away from this woman. She didn’t know what it was about her, but she could feel Margo worming her way into her brain, and Sophie could feel herself letting her. She had to put a stop to it before she got into even more trouble. “I said pull over, I wanna get out.”

“Jesus, calm down, okay? Just let me drop you off at the nearest—“

”No! Pull over now!” When Margo stubbornly kept driving, Sophie did the only thing she could think of to get her way. She reached for the gun tucked into her jeans with trembling hands, feigning bravery as she held it up for Margo to see. “I have a gun. Pull over or…o-or I’ll shoot.”

Margo’s eyes were wide, perhaps in surprise; but if Sophie had scared her, she was hiding it well. Shaking like a leaf in her seat, Sophie aimed the gun at her in the small space between them. When the truck slowed to a stop on the side of the road, the blonde tried to hide her victorious smile and keep the stony look on her face. However, once they stopped, Margo did something Sophie hadn’t expected: she pulled a gun of her own out from a holster on her left side and aimed it right back at her.

“Holy shit,” she gasped, looking at the sleek weapon in Margo’s perfectly manicured hand. “I—“

“Put the gun down, Sophie,” the older woman’s face remained neutral despite her dark tone of voice. It was enough for Sophie to drop her gun into her lap, leaving her with her hands up and tears streaking down her face as she struggled to breathe. The panic attack from just a moment ago mixed with the fact that she was being held at fucking gun point was not doing her lungs any favors. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure Margo could hear it.

“Just calm down, all right?”

“You’ve got a fucking gun pointed at my face and you’re asking me to calm down?!”

“In all fairness, darlin’ you had your gun in my face first,” Margo stated cooly.

“Yeah, b-but—“ she didn’t even know what to say. Regardless of how the situation went from here, both of them knew that Margo had the upper hand. The older woman didn’t know that Sophie’s gun was basically useless, but she knew now that Sophie was easy to disarm and a lot less level-headed than herself when staring down the barrel.

“Hey. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Margo’s voice was softer this time, though that didn’t stop Sophie from flinching when a gentle hand cupped her cheek and a thumb swiped away her tears. It must have been a crazy sight to see, a woman holding a gun to her face while also cradling her cheek for comfort. But Margo lowered the weapon slowly, keeping her eyes on Sophie as she tucked it skillfully back into the holster. The hand that had been holding the gun moments ago found the other side of Sophie’s face, stroking her quivering cheek gently. It was oddly comforting considering the circumstances. “Listen to me, Sophie,” there was that stern softness again, “I’m gonna drive us into the next town and stop for gas. Okay?” The blonde nodded frantically with her face still in her warm hands. “You can get out and find another ride if you really want to. But you say you’re headed west and so am I…I dunno about you, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you just tagged along with me.”

Sophie found Margo’s eyes through her own bleary ones, confused as to how she could feel so safe at the hands of a woman who pulled a gun on her like she’d been doing it since before she learned how to tie her shoes. Something in those icy blue eyes between mascara-coated lashes gave Sophie a sense of security. Call her an idiot for believing in it, but what did she have to lose at this point?

“For now, just breathe for me, can you do that?” the brunette instructed, keeping Sophie’s cheek in one hand while the other took one of hers, squeezing her fingers that were practically vibrating from fear. “Come on, in and out. Breathe in,” she continued, guiding Sophie through her anxiety attack with ease. “Breathe out...slow. Good girl,” she whispered, sending a chill down the younger woman’s spine as she tried to follow along with closed eyes.

An agonizing five minutes of praise and guided breathing passed before Sophie managed to open her eyes again, immediately finding safety in the warmth of Margo’s gaze. The Patsy Cline cassette tape filled the silence between them as Sophie’s heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm. “I-I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I’m just so…exhausted a-and I’ve been on the move for days and—“

“Shh,” Margo moved her hand from her cheek to the side of her neck, silently running her thumb over a faded bruise— An answer she could wait until later for. She felt Sophie shiver under her touch, and it sparked something within herself that wasn’t quite sure how to process. “Tell you what. Let’s go into town, fill the tank, and grab some food. No offense, sug, but you look like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”

Sophie shook her head, blinking away exhausted tears as she looked down to where Margo’s hands had clamped around hers on the bench between them. “I-I don’t—“

“My treat. I don’t extend this offer to just anyone, so you best take it while you got it in front of ya,” she raised a hand from between them to tuck a finger under Sophie’s chin, forcing her red stained eyes to meet hers. ”Just one dinner. Then you’re free to go if you really want to. Scout’s honor. If I gotta let you go, I’d rather let you go knowin’ you’ve got some food in ya.”

The blonde met her eyes, embarrassed that she had acted the way she did. But Margo didn’t seem to hold it against her. She just hoped she wasn’t being stupid by believing that she was safe with her. After a bit of thought, she finally nodded— tired of running.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Sophie shifted uncomfortably in their corner booth, glancing around the little tin diner as she poked at the scrambled eggs on her plate. Her backpack sat beside her and her suitcase was tucked securely between her knees under the table. The diner ended up being the first stop. After Sophie’s stomach had growled loud enough to hear over the music, Margo claimed that filling the truck’s tank could wait and that filling Sophie’s tank was more important. The blonde rolled her tired eyes with a hidden smile at the lighthearted silliness that the older woman was trying to replace the tension with. She appreciated it, actually. They had moved on from holding guns in each other's faces surprisingly quickly.

Once they got to the diner, Sophie immediately escaped to the bathroom, wanting to at least wipe the dried sweat, tears, and grime off her face. She barely recognized herself in the mirror, but she wasn’t sure just yet if she liked that or not.

She rubbed at her eye with a yawn after a bite of toast, still glancing around for Margo who had stepped out to use the payphone in the parking lot. The brunette was getting under her skin in a way that Sophie actually didn’t mind. She didn’t seem to judge the fact that Sophie insisted on taking her bags with her everywhere she went, even to the bathroom. She asked questions over dinner, but none that made it seem like she was prodding for information. She asked Sophie her favorite color (baby blue) before sharing her own (maroon). She asked her if she had any pets, if she was allergic to any foods, what her favorite ABBA song was; random little things that Sophie was much more comfortable answering, admittedly putting her at ease.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Boston,” Margo slid back into the booth across from her, sipping at her black coffee before reaching for her fries, “Where were we?”

Sophie snorted quietly at the nickname, amazed that she had lowered her walls far enough to tell Margo that she was from Massachusetts.

“Oh, so like you’re from Boston?”

“Kind of.”

Margo kept things fair, promising Sophie that she wouldn’t ask any questions that she wouldn’t answer herself. Anything she learned about Sophie, Sophie would learn about her too. So as a result, Sophie learned that Margo had a dog named Junebug when she was a kid, she was allergic to shellfish, and her favorite ABBA song was ‘Does Your Mother Know?’. She was from a small town called Alba in east Texas and she was estranged from everyone in her family except her brother Kyle— something Sophie showed genuine sympathy for. Even with her own made up brother waiting for her somewhere out west, she still knew what it was like to not have much of a relationship with her family. With every fact she learned about Margo, the blonde found herself starving for more. She wanted to know everything about this fascinating, enchanting woman who had shown her so much kindness.

After wiping her mouth on her napkin, Sophie sipped her water through a straw and gave Margo a slight smile. “Favorite animal, I think.”

“Oh, easy. Highland cow,” she answered as if Sophie had just asked her what color the sky is, but the look on the blonde’s face made it clear that she had no idea what that was. “What, you don’t have cows in Boston?”

“I mean, I’m sure there are some somewhere, but I didn’t know there were more than like, two types of cows,” she managed a light laugh.

Margo rolled her eyes playfully. “Typical city girl,” she shook her head, “So what’s yours?”

“Um…I always really liked manatees.”

“Well, that’s a sea cow. See? You and I ain’t so different,” she grinned, dipping a fry into the pool of ketchup on the side of her plate. “Can I ask you somethin’ more on the personal side? Nothin’ crazy.”

Sophie swallowed thickly, wondering what she wanted to know; but she nodded anyway, ignoring the thrumming of her heartbeat that was suddenly pounding in her ears.

“How old are you?”

That wasn’t so bad. And it was only fair of her to answer, since she was curious about Margo’s age too. “Twenty-four,” she answered quietly, almost embarrassed by her answer. It didn’t help that Margo let out a laugh in response. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, honey, you’re just a baby!” the brunette chuckled with a subtle shake of her head, “Got your whole life ahead of you still. Someone your age shouldn’t have nearly as many worries as you do.”

A pink tint came to Sophie’s cheeks. She already knew Margo was older than her, but she suddenly felt so small and insecure across from the woman who seemed to have so much life experience under her belt. “You can’t be that much older than me. What are you like, thirty?”

“Thirty-seven as of last week,” Margo crossed her arms over the edge of the table, watching Sophie for her response.

The blue-eyed blonde just looked at her skeptically, “Are you sure? You don’t look like any thirty-seven year olds I know.”

“Probably cause they’re all killin’ themselves at 9-5’s, settlin’ down in shitty marriages and havin’ kids cause they think they have to. Not leavin’ room in their lives for any fun. I believe in doin’ whatever the fuck I want. Always have. That’s the secret.” she stated proudly, licking a blob of ketchup off the side of her finger with a smirk.

Sophie couldn’t help but stare. This woman was intriguing in so many ways. All the women in their late 30s that she knew were so…uptight. Even in the city, it was like they had a code of conduct and followed it strategically. She was never sure if she wanted kids and to join the PTA and be a homemaker. It was the 90s for god’s sake, she had other options, right? It never seemed like it. Between her parents and her husband, she never had many opportunities to make decisions for herself.

“Don’t you go gettin’ quiet on me again.”

Margo’s low voice caught her attention, making Sophie blink and shift in her seat again, wondering how long she’d been lost in thought. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it wasn’t great either. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking back down at her plate. As hungry as she was, she was too nervous to eat much. And she’d never say it out loud, but maybe she was stalling. Margo said they weren’t leaving until she finished her whole plate, and Sophie still wasn’t sure what her plan was from this point. What were the chances that she was really better off with Margo? The woman was great company and easy to talk to, but Sophie didn’t know her aside from a few surface level fun facts. She didn’t know her story or what kind of trouble she may be in. But she knew that the only way she would get to know Margo is if she let Margo get to know her. That was their unspoken deal; but she wasn’t ready yet.

“Sophie…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you wanna keep goin’ with me?” Margo tilted her head down, lowering herself enough to try to meet the tired blue eyes across the booth.

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek, nervously giggling at the question. “What are you, a mind reader or something?”

“I wish,” the brunette snorted, “But no, I just know damn well that when someone’s stomach roars as loud as yours has been, you can’t keep’em from downin’ a plate of food at the speed of light. And you’ve been peckin’ at yours for an hour now, puttin’ off makin’ a decision.”

She hit the nail on the head, much to Sophie’s discomfort. She didn’t know what was worse: telling Margo what she was thinking or having her figure it out on her own. Was she really that transparent? “I guess that’s…accurate,” she pushed her eggs around her plate, “I’m sorry if I’ve set you back.”

Margo smiled and reached across the table, taking Sophie’s free hand in hers. “I’m in no rush, honey. I just want you to be sure. If that means it takes you til midnight to decide, then so be it.”

A shy smile came to Sophie’s face. “You’re sweet.”

“Nah, I’m not. But I like you,” Margo shrugged before smirking. “And I gotta say, while you’re not the first person to threaten me with a gun, you’re the first one that I’ve still wanted to spend time with afterwards.”

Sophie blushed and looked down at where Margo’s thumb was stroking across her fingers…over her wedding ring. She pulled her hand back and rested it in her own lap, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I get it. You got spooked. Call me crazy, but I’m actually glad to see that you defended yourself. At first glance, I didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Is that why you want me to stay with you? Cause you think I need you to protect me?” she tried not to sound too offended as she shifted in her seat again.

Margo shrugged, looking down at her own hands like she was nervous. Sophie didn’t think it was possible for Margo to be anything but confident. “I guess…there’s just somethin’ about you that makes me…wanna protect you. Not sayin’ you need it, but…I’d like to. If you’ll let me.”

A lump came to Sophie’s throat, taken back by the sincerity in Margo’s voice. Unfortunately, she had heard it before, and it ended badly. Graham wanted to protect her too. He made that very clear from the start. He made a promise in front of their friends and family to protect her and he ended up becoming everything he said he would protect her from. She couldn’t go through that again. She hadn’t even known Margo for three hours yet, but the thought of her eventually turning against her made Sophie’s stomach turn upside down.

“But…no pressure. Regardless of what I want, you’re your own person and you know what you need more than anyone. When it comes down to it, I’m just bein’ a girl’s girl. Women gotta be lookin’ out for each other.”

Sophie nodded, swiping under her eye quickly to prevent a tear from falling. She wanted to trust Margo. Just like the older woman said there was something about Sophie that made her want to protect her, there was something about Margo that made Sophie want her protection. It was gnawing away at her from the inside out, and she knew she was running out of time to decide. She chewed the skin around her thumbnail distractedly, grateful for the jukebox for filling the silence around them. She wasn’t used to not having anyone in her ear telling her to stop nipping and picking at her fingers. As much as she hated when she got scolded for it, her cuticles were suffering the consequences without it.

“I can…I can leave? If I want to? Like…if it gets to be too much o-or…”

“You call the shots, darlin’. All I ask is that if you decide you wanna bail, you at least let me drop you off somewhere safer than the side of the road. No wavin’ that little pistol at me just to get me to leave you on the roadside, cause I ain’t gonna.”

The younger woman squeezed her eyes shut as her face flushed. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

Margo just smirked from over the mug of coffee. “Not as long as I’m around.”

Biting back a smile, Sophie straightened up in her seat before reaching for her cold slice of toast. “Okay.”

“We got a deal?” a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised and a hand came across the table to solidify their agreement with an extended pinky finger.

Sophie sighed when the enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders, slowly reaching forward to link her pinky with hers. “It’s a deal.” She hadn’t made a pinky promise since elementary school, but since growing up, the act felt no less official.

“One more thing,” Margo piped up before she could take another bite, “No more hidin’ that smile from me. You got a smile that was meant to be flaunted, and by the grace of god, I’ve been given the privilege of seein’ it up close. So don’t deny me that.”

She flushed a darker shade of pink, pursing her lips together as she kept eye contact with her scrambled eggs.

“Aht aht,” Margo tutted, “What’d I just say?” the thick southern drawl teased from across the table with a quiet chuckle. “We had a deal, Boston, don’t go breakin’ our sacred bond, now.” It took a few moments, but Sophie finally stopped trying to fight the smile that was forcing its way across her face. “Atta girl.”

Chapter Text

Peering up at the illuminated motel sign, Sophie watched as a few of the letters flickered from the dying neon light. She had decided to keep riding with Margo back at the diner, and after filling the truck’s tank Margo drove them towards the sunset and well into the night. They had gone over the subject of finances in the parking lot of the gas station. Sophie didn’t dare let Margo know just how much money she had stuffed at the bottom of her backpack, but thankfully Margo didn’t even ask. All she asked was if Sophie was able to pitch in for expenses, which she was more than happy to. This was their trip now.

“Well, it’s not the Ritz, but it looks like the closest we’re gonna get,” Margo sighed, putting the truck in park just outside the check-in office.

“As long as it’s got hot running water,” Sophie relaxed her shoulders, running a hand through her greasy hair. The place at least had character. It was painted a pale shade of orange with teal trim. As run down as it was now, it must have been gorgeous in its prime.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” Margo yawned as she killed the engine, nodding towards the bags that Sophie kept tucked between her knees, “You bringin’ those in?”

Sophie nodded.

“Y’want any help?”

Sophie shook her head.

“All right. Well, don’t say I didn’t offer,” she teased and got out of the truck, leaving her own bags in the back aside from the snakeskin purse she slung over her shoulder. Rounding the truck to the passenger side, she watched with a hand on her hip as Sophie struggled to pull her suitcase from the truck, amused at the younger woman’s determination. “Y’know, Boston, as much as I can appreciate the whole ‘strong independent woman’ thing, what exactly do you think is gonna happen if I carry your suitcase for ya?”

“I just…don’t wanna lose anything,” Sophie shrugged, closing the door with her hip and hoisting her backpack higher onto her shoulder.

“What, you don’t trust me?”

Sophie could tell she was just teasing, but she shot her a glare that made it clear that it wasn’t appreciated.

“Right. Stupid question,” the older woman smirked, turning on the heel of her leather boot to lead the way to the office. The overhead bell chimed when she came through the glass door, holding it open for Sophie.

“Can I help you ladies?” the middle aged woman behind the desk picked her head up, muting the small tv on the countertop so the only noise left was the buzz of the desk fan.

“Just need a room. We’ve been drivin’ for a while. Got anything?” Margo leaned tiredly against the tall counter, exaggerating her own exhaustion in hopes that the woman would pity on them and help them out if she had nothing available.

The receptionist didn’t seem to have any reaction. She simply typed on her keyboard and flipped through a large binder that was laid out in front of her. “I got one room open—“

“Perfect, we’ll take it.”

“Let me finish,” the woman glared at Margo from over the reading glasses that were sitting at the tip of her nose, “I have one room open. But it’s single occupancy.”

Sophie shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, wondering how far the next motel was. She just felt bad that Margo would have to keep driving. Even though she was playing it up for show right now, Sophie knew that Margo was exhausted.

“Okay…and…?” Margo waved a hand in a curious gesture. Sophie just watched as the woman behind the desk glanced back and forth between them. “Ma’am, I don’t think you understand,” the brunette breathed a light laugh, straightening her posture and nodding back towards Sophie, “This here’s my baby sister.”

What?

“See, we’re headed up to Seattle for her to get treatment. Been drivin’ for days, and we still got so far to go.”

“Treatment?” the receptionist asked curiously, quirking a brow at Margo.

“Rare lung condition,” she nodded, lowering her voice, “Passed down through the family. Our Mama died of the same thing when we were kids and I’ve been takin’ care of her ever since.”

Sophie looked up at Margo but tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, not wanting to blow the outrageous lie she had come up with.

“Oh, you poor thing,” the middle aged woman glanced at her with worried eyes and a hand over her heart. Sophie just coughed once into her fist and nodded, accepting her condolences as convincingly as she could.

Margo turned to look at her with a mischievous glint of approval in her eyes before pulling her to her side, keeping her arm wrapped securely around her. “I don’t mean to give you a sob-story ma’am. It’s just…when we moved in with our grandparents after Mama died and our Daddy left, we shared the sleeper sofa ‘til we were old enough to get out on our own. So if you’ll allow it, we don’t mind sharin’. But if not, I understand. We don’t wanna cause you any trouble.”

Sophie couldn’t help the blush that took over her face at the feeling of Margo’s soft hand rubbing affectionately up and down her arm, keeping her so close to her side. She coughed again to keep up the façade, but she also hoped that it would prevent anyone from hearing how hard her heart was pounding. She just wasn’t sure if the cause was the close proximity to Margo or the fear of getting caught lying.

The woman glanced between them sympathetically before sighing and reaching for a room key on the wall behind her. “It’s $25 for the night. You’re in room 107. It’s just around the corner here on the first floor,” she made a U shape with her finger to give them directions. “Check out is at 11:00am. If you need an additional night, just come let us know before then.”

Margo handed her the $25 in cash and took the keychain gingerly, holding it to her chest in feigned relief. “Thank you so much. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Leanne.”

“Well…God bless you, Leanne.”

“You too, dear. Take care. I hope your treatment goes well, honey,” she sent a little wave to Sophie who just nodded with a quiet ‘thank you’ before Margo led them out of the small lobby.

“See? Big sis always takes care’a ya,” the brunette said to her loud enough for Leanne to hear from behind the desk, keeping up the act until they were back outside.

Once they got to the truck, Sophie pulled swiftly away from the taller woman, dropping her suitcase and releasing the breath she’d been holding since they got the room key. “Oh my god,” she gasped, bringing her hands up to her temples as she paced back and forth across the length of the truck, “Oh my god, Margo, that—“ she broke out into a quiet fit of incredulous giggles, unable to determine which emotion she was feeling. “Holy shit.”

“That’s how it’s done. Get in, lil sis,” Margo smirked and winked in her direction, getting into the truck, driving them around the corner of the building and parking in front of the teal door of room 107.

“If I develop a lung condition because karma decided to bite me in the ass for playing along with that, I’m…so coming back to haunt you,” Sophie leaned forwards to hide her flushed face in her hands. If there really was such a thing as Hell, she had a spot reserved for sure.

“Oh, please, that’s not even in the top ten most sinful things I’ve done,” Margo rolled her eyes and cut the engine again.

Sophie snorted and shook her head, getting out of the truck with her. “I don’t even wanna know what the top ten are. I feel like that woman is gonna be the voice of my guilty conscience now.”

“You gotta get out more, honey. Don’t act like you’ve never told a little white lie before.” She reached into the truck bed and tugged out her black and gold paisley luggage— a matching set that looked expensive from what Sophie could see.

“I think there’s a difference between a little white lie and pretending to have a terminal illness to get a motel room.”

“Hey, no one told you to start coughin’,” Margo pointed out, closing the tailgate before leading the way to their door. “But it was a nice touch. Really sold the story.”

Sophie just took a deep breath, unable to keep the adrenaline-induced smile from her face as she followed Margo to the door. The key jingled in her hand when she unlocked it, and she tossed it onto the nearest table once she set foot onto the old shag carpet.

“I know you’re dyin’ for a shower.”

Sophie sighed and set her things down beside her feet. “Yeah. You can go first if you want, though.”

“Nah, you go on ahead. I’m more of a mornin’ shower kinda girl.” The older woman unpacked a small makeup bag from her luggage and set it on the desk by the door.

While her suitcase was spread open on the bed, Sophie caught a glimpse of what she was carrying around with her. It was a messy jumble of textures and fabrics, shiny metallic silks and flowing chiffons tangled up denim, leather, and fur. It was a stark contrast to the neutrals and floral pastels in her own suitcase. Speaking of which, she looked down at the scratched up hard-cased bag at her feet, wondering if she should bring it into the bathroom with her. She didn’t have anything in it that she couldn’t live without, but she knew she couldn’t afford to lose anything. Her backpack was more important. That’s where she had stuffed what remained of her savings account before she left Cambridge as well as the gun she previously had stuffed in the side of her shorts.

“You all right?” Margo asked from the small padded stool in front of the desk, sending Sophie a slight smile as she pulled her hair into a claw clip.

“Yeah! Yeah, um…I guess I’ll be back out in a little bit,” Sophie bit her lip, watching Margo nod as she leaned down to remove her boots. With one last glance at her suitcase in the corner, Sophie slipped into the bathroom with her backpack on her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

The fluorescent light flickering to life hurt her tired eyes and made her squint when she was suddenly surrounded by dingy tile that must have been a pure shade of white at some point in the past. The cracks in the walls were caulked sloppily and the faucets had rust around the edges. A month ago, if a hotel room she stayed in was in this shape, she would have asked to stay somewhere else. But now, she didn’t even think twice about setting her bare feet on the mildew stained shower floor after her clothes were shed and the shower was turned to the hottest possible setting. The feeling of hot water on her skin made her nearly moan out loud. If she were being brutally honest, it was the closest thing she’d had to an orgasm in what felt like forever. Ducking her head under the weak stream, her mouth fell open as she felt her stress momentarily wash away down the drain with the dirt and grime from the past week. She was starting to regret not bringing any shampoo or conditioner with her, but she was grateful that this run-down motel even had complimentary soap. It would have to do for now. Maybe Margo would have something she could borrow next time. Or they could stop somewhere to buy a few things.

The last few hours had been such a blur, but part of her had a hard time believing that Margo had only picked her up five hours ago. It felt like they’d been traveling together forever, and known each other for much longer; which was strange, considering they still barely knew anything about each other. She knew the most basic things about Margo, with a few personal details sprinkled in, but she didn’t know her. They were still strangers. There was no solid proof or evidence that the older woman didn’t have some kind of ulterior motive to screw her over, or that she wouldn’t in the long run even if it wasn’t premeditated.

“Hon?” Margo’s voice broke through the steam of the shower after she cracked the door open.

Speak of the devil

“Yeah?” Sophie called out after clearing her throat, throwing her arms around her chest as if Margo had just poked her head past the shower curtain.

“You mind if I use the sink?” her voice came in clearer, like she was fully in the room now.

“Um…yeah. Yeah, that’s fine,” she stammered as she hesitantly moved her hands from her chest back to where they had been working cheap body soap into her roots.

“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” she could hear the smirk in Margo’s voice as she came fully into the bathroom. Always the mind reader, apparently.

Sophie just rinsed her hair quietly, working the suds out of it as she listened carefully to the brunette’s movements. The sink ran, the towel hook jiggled, and the sound of bristles on teeth made it clear that she was just brushing her teeth for the night. But Sophie kept a careful ear out for the keychains on her backpack zipper. Her money, her gun, everything she needed to survive was in that backpack and she knew exactly how the keychains sounded when they clanked together if Margo tried to rob her. But the sound never came; just the sounds of the sink running and water splashing gently.

“Sorry about all the steam. I haven’t had a hot shower in…a while,” Sophie piped up, needing to fill the uncomfortable silence, but also needing to let Margo know that she was still there. Still on alert, still listening.

Margo’s breath of laughter cut through the fog, “Girlie, if I got a dollar for every time you said sorry for somethin’ you don’t even need to be apologizin’ for…hell, I’d probably end up richer than Dolly Parton by the end of this trip.”

If Sophie’s cheeks weren’t already pink from the hot water, she would have been blushing severely. “Sorry,” she mumbled, ducking her head to hide the shy smile that Margo couldn’t see anyway.

“Takes a lot to offend me, Soph,” Margo chuckled, making Sophie smile a bit at the use of her usual nickname, “A little steam certainly ain’t gonna do it. However, when you come out of here and see me bare-faced, careful what you say. My feelin’s might get hurt. I don’t let just anybody see the bags under my eyes.”

The younger woman couldn’t help but giggle quietly. Whether she was joking or not, she honestly didn’t think Margo had the ability to look bad. “I’ll keep my comments to myself, I promise.”

“Just the ones that may hurt my feelin’s,” she could hear the smirk in Margo’s voice, “One thing about Margo Banks is she never turns down a compliment.”

Margo Banks.

Sophie repeated the name in her head, committing it to memory. She just hoped that she wasn’t expected to share her last name now too. Married name or maiden name, she knew that people were looking for her.

“I’ll leave you to it, darlin’.”

Margo disappeared through the door again, closing it behind her and leaving Sophie alone with her thoughts once again. Curiously, the blonde peered out around the shower curtain towards the corner. Her backpack was still there, untouched. She didn’t know why she was surprised. Did she expect Margo to rob her? Or did she just hope she did so she didn’t feel so bad about being suspicious of her in the first place? It wasn’t stupid to be on guard, so why did she feel so bad about it?

Once she was scrubbed clean, Sophie cut off the water and stepped out onto the towel she put down to keep the floor dry, wrapping herself in the scratchy terrycloth of another. She perched her backpack on the lid of the toilet, sifting through it for her toothbrush. Everything seemed to still be in place. Though, her pajamas were in her suitcase in the next room.

“Shit.”

Once her teeth were brushed and her hair was pulled back into a scrunchie, Sophie held the white towel tightly to herself as she opened the bathroom door, peeking around for any signs of danger before she tip-toed out to where her suitcase was still sitting by the wall. She unlatched it and laid it out on the floor, quickly grabbing a large grey t-shirt from high school and a pair of sweatpants. Nothing in her suitcase seemed to have been touched either. She stood up straight and turned to go back to the bathroom, but the sight of Margo sitting up in the bed with a magazine in her lap made her pause. Apparently the older woman had called dibs on the bed. Maybe that was why she told Sophie to go ahead and shower. But Sophie kept her mouth shut. Margo had paid for the room, so that was only fair.

After changing in the bathroom and putting her backpack on the floor with her suitcase (in a very specific position so she could tell if it ended up tampered with), she stood awkwardly in place, shifting from foot to foot as she tried to figure out the most polite way to ask where she was supposed to sleep. “Um…” she started uncertaintly, “Are there more blankets and pillows somewhere in here?”

“You that cold?” Margo looked up at her with a bit of a wrinkled brow.

“I, um— I mean, I don’t even have one blanket,” she winced, hoping she wasn’t coming off as rude or demanding.

“Well, what’dya call these, then?” Margo lifted up the blanket and sheets that covered the spot next to her on the bed.

“Oh, I didn’t…I didn’t know I was—“

“What? Sharin’ the bed with me?” the older woman chuckled, closing her magazine and putting it aside, “I don’t know what else you expected in a single occupancy room. Unless you’d rather sleep on the floor, but I don’t recommend it.”

Sophie picked at her fingernail nervously, looking around the room just to avoid Margo’s eyes.

What’s the big deal? Just get in the bed, you’re exhausted.

“Here. If it makes you more comfortable…” Margo pulled the extra pillows from where they sat against the wooden headboard and stuffed them under the comforter, creating a small mountain range at her side to put a buffer between them.

Sophie felt so stupid. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as Margo. She just didn’t know if Margo was comfortable with it. But now the woman probably thought…well, who knew what she thought about her. Instead of saying anything, Sophie just stepped closer and climbed into the bed, not clinging to the side to purposefully show Margo that she wasn’t afraid to share a bed with a woman. If she were braver, she would have reached under the blankets and removed the pillow buffer just to prove her point. “I’ll try to be ready to go by 11:00,” she muttered quietly, staring at the ceiling from where she was lying on her back.

“There’s no rush. If you sleep longer, we’ll just pay for another night.”

She could see Margo moving in her peripheral, feeling every dip in the old mattress as the older woman turned out the lamp beside her and got comfortable under the covers. The only light left in the room was from the streetlights streaming through the curtains, but Sophie still felt like she had a spotlight on her, blinding her while an audience full of people pointed and laughed for any reason at all; especially when she could feel Margo shift onto her side to face her.

“Tell me one more thing about yourself, Sophie,” her quiet southern accent pierced through the silence like a gunshot, but it comforted Sophie nonetheless.

“Like what?” she remained on her back, staring at the brown water damage stains on the ceiling.

“Anythin’ at all. Anythin’ you want.”

Sophie’s heart hammered in her chest, but this time she noticed that it wasn’t out of fear of being betrayed. No, this was something different. It felt…good. The same feeling she would get when the barista at her favorite little coffee shop remembered her name and order; Like someone cared enough to pay attention. “Um…” she thought for a moment about what information she was willing to divulge, “I get nightmares.” That worked. It wasn’t too much information, but it was still a fact. If anything it was a potential warning to Margo, since this was the first of god knows how many nights they’d be spending together. “What about you?” she asked after Margo showed no sign of a reaction.

“What’dya wanna know?” From the corner of her eye, Sophie saw a manicured hand settle on top of the pillow mound between them and she just knew that Margo’s piercing blue eyes were boring into her skull.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, finding the bravery to turn more comfortably onto her side to face her. She was grateful for the darkness around them that was hiding the blush in her cheeks. “Tell me about…growing up with your brother.”

“Hoo, that’s a doozy,” Margo laughed quietly, but before Sophie could give her a different prompt, she started speaking— telling her all about her and Kyle, their drug addicted mom, and their shitty single-wide in Alba. Every syllable that left her lips tugged at Sophie’s heartstrings. Margo’s childhood was so different from her own upper middle class upbringing. She wasn’t sure if Margo wanted sympathy or condolences; she didn’t even know if she was even telling the truth. But her tired eyes didn’t let her stay awake long enough to even offer any kind of response at all, finding a peace in the lull of her low southern drawl.

Chapter Text

Sophie jolted awake in the dark, sitting up only slightly to take in what she could of her surroundings. She remembered that she had fallen asleep in a motel room that smelled like mildew, cigarette smoke, and just a hint of Margo’s perfume.

Margo. Margo Banks.

She turned her head and, sure enough, there was the striking brunette who had picked her up yesterday afternoon— sleeping peacefully on her side with her hand still resting atop the mound of pillows she’d built between them. Rubbing her tired eyes, Sophie tore her gaze from the woman’s sleeping face and squinted at the old flip clock on the nightstand on Margo’s other side. 2:39 AM. She must have only managed to sleep for two hours, since they arrived at the motel just around midnight. In the streetlight glow from outside she could see her suitcase and backpack were still beside the wall just as she’d left them, sending a rush of relief through her as she brought her hands up to cover her face. She was safe. At least for now. If Margo was going to do her any harm, she would have taken the opportunity while Sophie was asleep, right?

Manicured fingers twitched ever so slightly beside her and Sophie wondered what Margo was dreaming about. She, herself, was grateful to have a dream-less sleep for once. The exhaustion had caught up to her so much that her brain didn’t even have the energy to come up with anything. She didn’t recall much about what Margo had been talking about before she fell asleep, but she remembered enough to know that Margo didn’t have it easy as a kid practically raising her brother on her own. It made her wonder how much of the story she’d spun to get them this motel room was based in reality.

“Mama died. Daddy left.” she remembered hearing. The thought of Margo actually growing up in that situation made Sophie feel even worse for being so skeptical of her. Even if she did have bad intentions, it was probably just for survival. Sophie never thought she would ever end up doing some of the things she’d done over the last week and a half, but she had to do them to survive. It didn’t make her a bad person. Though, the voice of her mother-in-law in her head begged to differ.

Susanne O’Neil was probably furious. Furious, heartbroken, and rallying all of Eastern Massachusetts behind her to get justice for her son. Hell, it had been a week and a half, she likely had alerted the whole state if not more. She probably had a warrant out for her arrest and her picture plastered up at every police station in the country by now. The thought made a chill run down Sophie’s spine. She felt her blood run cold and her fingertips tingled as suddenly the air around her became very thick. Her breathing became shallow, her vision was tunneling, and she was fidgeting so much she prayed Margo was a heavy sleeper.

Slinking out of the old mattress, Sophie just got to her feet and paced the length of the bed for a few seconds, trying to calm herself down with her thumbnail between her teeth. The silence around her only made her thoughts and fears echo louder in her head. Air. Fresh air, that’s what she needed. She nodded her head as if to agree with her own idea and padded barefoot towards the door. The orange light from outside made the keychain attached to the room key catch her eye from its spot on the desk. Beside it, Margo’s snakeskin purse had toppled over at some point in the night, and Sophie could see the small opened box of Newport Lights hanging out of the bag. She hadn’t smoked a cigarette in forever. As much as she hated the taste and the way it made her tongue feel, she remembered just how much it managed to relax her when she was feeling particularly high strung. The first and only pack she ever bought was during finals week her junior year of college after her roommate had given her a cigarette to try at a party.

She peeked back over towards the bed where Margo was still sleeping soundly, wondering if the woman would even notice if one of her cigarettes was missing by the next time she went to smoke one. It was ironic, actually, how Sophie had spent all these hours paranoid that Margo was going to steal from her, and now here she was plucking one of the little sticks and a lighter from the older woman’s purse. But she brushed the thought off, not needing another reason to spiral into a panic. She opened the door as quietly as she could, making sure she left it unlocked so she could get back in, and escaped into the night. Somehow the humid air outside was easier to breathe than the air conditioning in the room. Her body gave a shiver despite the warm temperature and she plopped down on the bench beside the door with a deep sigh.

Flicking the lighter a few times, she held the flame up to the cigarette, waiting until it was lit before she took a deep drag in, illuminating the tip before smoke seeped from her lips. Sophie never felt good about smoking, but she couldn’t deny how it put her nerves at ease. Her mother-in-law’s voice faded from her mind, her hands stopped trembling, and despite the cancerous little stick between her fingers shrinking her lungs with each puff, she felt like she could breathe again. She leaned back against the iron bench, relaxing as much as she could.

It was so quiet here in the middle of nowhere Texas that the cicadas may as well have been shrieking in her ears. The metal bug zapper that hung on the wall buzzed with electricity as it destroyed every curious moth that came too close to the light. It had to suck to be a bug attracted to light. It was depressing, really, not even knowing that the thing that you craved most would ultimately be your demise. Then again, maybe they knew. Maybe each moth knew exactly what would happen to them if they got too close, but the satisfaction of getting what they wanted was worth dying for. So far in her life, Sophie hadn’t found anything worth dying for, and she wondered what it was like to love something that much— if it was even possible for her.

“You best hope Leanne doesn’t catch you out here lightin’ up,” Margo’s voice was quiet and hoarse with sleep, but still made her jump in surprise, “She might just accuse me of lyin’ about your lung condition.”

Sophie tensed under the older woman’s gaze, looking over her shoulder after a moment to find her leaning against the doorframe with a black satin robe over her pajamas. She couldn’t even come up with a smart retort or even an apology to mutter out. She just slumped her shoulders and turned back to face the cherry red truck in front of their room, flicking the ashes of the cigarette she’d stolen to the ground.

“Mind if I join ya?” Margo asked after a yawn, apparently taking Sophie’s shrug as a positive response since she sat down beside her on the bench and lit a cigarette of her own, blowing her mouthful of smoke in the opposite direction. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker.”

Sophie brought her cigarette back to her lips with a stiff hand. “I wouldn’t really call it that,” she answered quietly, releasing a slow breath, “I just…enjoy one every now and then, I guess. Graham never liked it.” The last part of her sentence slipped out without her realizing at first, but once she said his name, she actually felt a little bit better, strangely enough.

Margo lifted a bare foot to sit on the bench so her knee was bent up in front of her. “Graham?”

The blonde paused, looking down at the cigarette butts that were littered around the bench from previous guests of the room— likely contemplating their own lives on this very bench and wondering where they would go from this point. Maybe it was her own exhaustion, but the idea of telling Margo about Graham’s existence didn’t even seem to faze her. “My uh…my husband,” she nodded slowly. Would he be considered her ex-husband now after everything that happened? It wasn’t like they got divorced. He died.

Margo didn’t seem to have any kind of reaction. Sophie tried her hardest not to wonder if Margo already knew about Graham and was just playing the part of the curious stranger, worming her way in to get a confession out of her. She took another drag from her cigarette to forget the possibility. Maybe at this point she was meant to get caught and pay the price for what she’d done.

“Does this Graham have anythin’ to do with the bruises on your back?” Margo asked quietly; confident but hesitant at the same time. The tone of her voice told Sophie that she didn’t even need to answer. Whether Margo knew anything or not, it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. “Sorry,” Margo spoke again in the wake of Sophie’s silence, “I just…saw’em when you came out of the shower earlier. Kinda hard to miss.”

Sophie still didn’t answer. She just tried to keep her breathing steady and her eyes dry. It wasn’t Margo’s business. She told her flat out when they met that she didn’t need a friend or a therapist. She just needed a ride. Getting to know each other deeper than surface level was pointless. By the time they reached Margo’s destination they would never see each other again anyway. In the end, Margo would just be the kind stranger who helped her get away just like everyone else. But there was something about the older woman that made Sophie want to tell her everything, and the very still possibility of Margo being part of a conspiracy to find and arrest her was the exact reason that she couldn’t. For now, she could be taken in on suspicion at best, but Sophie had to keep the truth to herself— even if it ate away at her. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her free arm around them to keep them close, making herself small as if it would protect her somehow.

“Look,” Margo put her lifted foot back on the ground and leaned forward on her elbows, hoping to catch Sophie’s lowered eyes, “I know it’s none of my business. I don’t know your story, and I don’t expect you to tell it to me until you want to. But…whatever you’re runnin’ from— or not runnin’ from—“ she added quickly, remembering how defensive Sophie got at the accusation of running before, “Just know that you’re safe with me. Okay?”

Sophie’s bleary eyes met hers as she blew a thin, tense cloud of smoke through tight lips. “How can I be sure of that? You…you can’t promise that,” she shook her head, voice quivering in a whisper as tears threatened to fall.

“Sophie, listen. I don’t expect you to trust me. Trust’s hard to gain on the road, I get it.” She flicked her ashes to the ground and turned back to face her. “But you better believe it when I say that if a man ever put his hands on me like that…he’d get a warning shot to the balls…and then I’d send him straight to hell where he belongs.” Margo’s tone was as dark as her eyes, but she held a tight gaze with her, showing no signs of bluffing.

Sophie just watched intently as Margo took in a deep breath and leaned back against the bench, staring out into the night. The air between them had shifted. It was tense and delicate, like one wrong move would shatter everything; and something told her that Margo wasn’t just speaking hypothetically. She wanted to ask for details, to see just how similar their experiences were, but she just ashed her cigarette out on the armrest of the iron bench and flicked it to the ground with the rest.

“Thank you,” left her lips before she could even realize it, but Margo just turned to her briefly with a slight smile, letting her gaze linger long enough for Sophie to see the tiredness— both physical and emotional— behind her icy blue irises. This woman had been through hell since childhood. Sophie didn’t know all the details, of course. She remembered only a bit from just a few hours ago when Margo was sharing the sad details of her trailer park life with her like it was a bedtime story. But Sophie knew that there was way more to her than a troubled childhood. Why else would she be on the road the way she was? What was she running from? “I-I’m sorry,” Sophie stammered, unsure of what exactly she was apologizing for. Maybe it was just sympathy for whatever Margo’s own tragic backstory was. Maybe it was for stealing her cigarettes. Maybe for being so untrusting of Margo to begin with when the woman had so far given her no reason to run from her. Maybe it was all of it wrapped into one.

“Now, what’d I tell you about apologizin’ over nothin’?” The brunette laughed breathily through a cloud of smoke, bringing her free hand up to rest on Sophie’s bended knee and stroking her thumb over the cotton of her sweatpants. “Just stick with me, Boston. Follow my lead, and everythin’ll be fine.”

Sophie’s heart pounded against her ribcage as she glanced between Margo’s hand on her knee and her eyes, unsure of what to think. The logical part of her told her to keep her guard up— to keep fighting the urge to trust in anyone and keep up the determination to keep this…relationship purely transactional. Margo had offered her a ride, and that was all she needed. But the part of her that was exhausted from running and hiding just wanted to put her life in the older woman’s hands and let her take control so Sophie could just turn her brain off. Whatever happened, she wanted to believe that Margo would take care of it— take care of her.

“Your brother expectin’ you at a certain day or time?” Margo asked, not taking her hand off of her knee. It cut Sophie like a knife, knowing that Margo was still under the impression that she was headed out west to find family. She had no idea that there was nothing waiting for her out there on the west coast. And to make things worse, all of the things that Sophie had been worried about Margo doing to her, she had done first. Lying, stealing, threatening her life…all to someone who genuinely just seemed to be trying to help her out and get her safely to wherever she needed to go.

Sophie couldn’t hold back the tears that sat on the edge of her eyelids anymore. She just averted her eyes back towards the truck and let the dam break, bringing her hands up to hide her face. Her fears, her guilt, her exhaustion, they all caught up to her at once as she broke down in tears beside the woman she’d known for less than a day. And before she knew it, she was being pulled gently into Margo’s arms. They were warm and strong and secure around her, and Sophie couldn’t help but feel even worse for greedily soaking up the comfort they offered. Margo stroked her hair, raking manicured fingers against her scalp as she soothed her through her fit, holding tight to her as if the sobs that racked through her body were threatening to tear her apart and it was up to her to keep her in one piece.

They sat like that for longer than Sophie felt she deserved. When she managed to open her eyes, she just caught sight of Margo’s half-smoked cigarette abandoned on the ground beside hers, still lit enough to unleash a thin line of smoke from the tip as the flame died out. Sophie had spent this last week and a half scrimping and saving every penny she could, and here was Margo Banks: not even scolding Sophie for stealing a cigarette from her purse and wasting what was left of her own just to bring her comfort.

But Sophie allowed herself to be selfish. She could feel bad about it later. For now, she granted herself permission to wrap her arms around the older woman, fisting black satin in her hands as she cried against her chest. She stained Margo’s robe with tears as she was rocked ever so slightly from side to side and shushed quietly. She hadn’t been held and comforted or even made to feel like her feelings mattered in so long that she forgot what it was like to have someone care about her. Everyone around her lately was so focused on the things she was doing wrong that no one bothered to offer her a hand and ask if she was okay, let alone let her cry into their collarbone.

They sat in an embrace in the quiet Texas night for what felt like forever to the blonde. Until she pulled away slowly, then it felt like it was over much too soon. ”I’m—“

“Aht,” Margo tutted, holding a hand up to stop her before using it to wipe the tears from her flushed cheeks, “No apologies, remember?” Sophie just nodded and reluctantly pulled back, putting a bit of distance between them again. “You’re gonna be fine, darlin’.” Margo reached across and smoothed blonde hair down from where it had gotten tousled in the long and intense hug.

Sophie nodded and wiped under her nose, making eye contact with the ground again as her body tensed. Suddenly she felt like she had to restrain herself from diving back into Margo’s embrace. But for now, she relished the feeling of her soft hand moving from her hair to her cheek, grazing her thumb along her skin in a way that Sophie couldn’t help but lean into.

“When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” Margo asked over the distant noise of the screaming cicadas and tree frogs.

Sophie just shrugged in all honesty. Even before she left Cambridge, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept peacefully and all through the night. Her body wouldn’t allow it; not when she lived in constant fear for her life.

“Well, you’re gonna get one tonight. Don’t worry about bein’ up and out by 11:00. I’m gonna get us another night so you can rest.”

“No, I-I’m fine, really—“

“Sophie, I already made up my mind. I’m not lettin’ you go on like this.“

Sophie knew that she needed sleep. She wanted to sleep so badly. She just wished it didn’t come at the cost of feeling like a burden. Regardless of whether taking an extra night was Margo’s idea or not, the older woman probably wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t for her.

“Come on.” She was coaxed and helped up to her aching feet. A comforting arm found its way around her again as Margo led her back into the almost bitter cold air conditioning of their motel room. She felt like a child being taken back to bed after telling her parents she had a nightmare. She remembered the way her dad used to tuck her back in and check all over the room to make sure it was clear of monsters. But now, the monsters were in her own head, beating her down with endless feelings of fear and guilt. She tried her hardest to push them away as she crawled back into the bed, letting Margo pull the covers up to her chin as she leaned over her. “You get some sleep now, honey.” Her whispered voice ran through Sophie’s veins like melted butter on warm toast, instantly putting her into such a relaxed state that she was nearly unconscious by the time Margo got into the bed on the other side of the pillow range and placed a protective hand over her arm.

Chapter Text

Perhaps it was the sound of jingling keys. It could’ve been the strong, familiar smell of coffee. Maybe it was just the sunlight streaming through the windows and directly into her eyes. Whatever it was, something caused Sophie to stir from the best sleep she’d had in years.

“There she is. Mornin’, sunshine,” Margo’s voice was added to the mix as she came into the motel room, closing the door behind her before placing the plastic grocery bag she was carrying on the desk with her keys. “Was startin’ to wonder if I should check for a pulse on you.”

Sophie sat up on her elbows with a yawn and squinted in the bright sunlight. Her tongue felt dry and she was sure that she had a trail of dried up drool on the side of her face. “How long was I asleep?” her voice was thick with sleep as leaned over to see the alarm clock. 3:12 PM.

“About thirteen hours,” Margo chuckled and kicked her boots off by the door. Obviously, she had been up for a while. She was showered and dressed with her long hair styled and her makeup flawless. And the fact that she was coming into the room with a grocery bag and a cup of coffee told Sophie that she had already been out of the room at least once.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she sat up completely, rubbing her sleepy eyes so hard she started seeing galaxies behind her eyelids.

“There you go apologizin’ again.” Margo grabbed the bag and sat on the edge of the bed right beside her. She was dressed in extremely short cutoff denim shorts and a white tank top; and unless Sophie’s eyes were playing tricks on her, it didn’t seem like she had bothered to wear a bra underneath. “Here,” she handed her the little styrofoam cup of coffee, “Dunno if you like it black, but it’ll perk ya right up.”

The blonde just shook her head and gently pushed the cup away, “I don’t wanna take your coffee.”

“I can always get another. Compliments of the shitty pot they got brewin’ down at the front desk.”

Sophie looked between the cup and Margo’s eyes, smiling when the older woman nudged it towards her again. “Thanks,” she whispered, taking the cup from her and bringing it to her lips. Black coffee wasn’t her favorite, but it got the job done. And she would take anything to soothe the scratchiness in her throat from last night’s stolen cigarette.

“How you feelin’ after all that sleep?”

“Tired,” she giggled after swallowing a sip, “I probably slept too much.”

“Mm, ain’t no such thing, darlin’.” Margo just smirked and reached for the plastic bag, unpacking it to show Sophie the contents. “Didn’t know what you like for snacks, but I got some potato chips for the road and a couple’a Cokes from the corner store. Just hope you’re not partial to Pepsi.”

Sophie shook her head and sipped at her coffee again, watching Margo unpack the plastic bag. Along with a new issue of People Magazine, she pulled out two small travel bottles of shampoo and conditioner, handing them over to her. “Figured you could use these too. I know desperate times call for desperate measures, but no one should have to wash their hair with shitty motel body soap more than once.”

“How did you know I—“ she paused when she reached her free hand up to her head, cringing at how her hair felt like a bail of hay: stiff and brittle. “Thank you,” she breathed a bit of a laugh instead of finishing her question. “How much do I owe you?”

Margo packed everything else back into the plastic bag and shook her head before getting up. “You don’t owe me a penny, sugar.”

“No, that wasn’t the deal,” she objected, ignoring the way the nickname made her heart flutter and watched the older woman walk around the room again, “We split everything equally, remember?”

“That was the deal, yeah. But I didn’t buy nothin’.”

Sophie’s eyebrows knit together cluelessly. “What, did they just have all this for free down at the front desk too?”

“Sure,” Margo shrugged, bending over to organize the contents of her suitcase nonchalantly.

Sophie peered down at the toiletries she’d been given, quickly coming to the realization that they were stolen. They couldn’t have been worth more than 75 cents a piece, but still, it made Sophie’s heart get caught in her throat. She’d never stolen anything before. Even when she was a wannabe rebellious teenager, she couldn’t even bring herself to slip a cheap tube of lipstick up her sleeve at the pharmacy. Her guilty conscience wouldn’t allow it. And then here was Margo, somehow managing to shoplift an entire bag of groceries without a care in the world.

“So,” Margo stood back up, rounded the bed, and plopped back down on the edge beside her, “Y’never answered my question last night.”

Sophie’s blue eyes looked up at her from where she tried to hide behind the coffee cup. From what she recalled, there were quite a few questions Margo asked last night that went unanswered. “Hm?” she blinked innocently, licking the bitter coffee from the corner of her lips.

“Your brother. He expectin’ you on any particular day?”

Sophie thought about her answer carefully. If she said yes, that would put a time frame on their journey— limiting her options, but giving her a more concrete reason to keep moving forward. But if she said no, that left room for mistakes, potential delays…and more time with Margo. Once again, it was a battle between her head and her heart. The smart thing to do would be to say yes. That her ‘brother’ was expecting her in San Francisco by Wednesday night. It was Thursday now. That still gave her a solid time limit, while still leaving her a good amount of wiggle room. Perfect answer.

“No.”

What the fuck?

“He even know you’re comin’?” Margo knit perfectly shaped brows at her in curiosity.

Sophie nodded dumbly, trying to cover her tracks. “San Francisco.” She blurted the city out before she could stop it from leaving her lips. That was where she was intending to go anyway. She told herself that if she managed to get to the coast, then she would decide which way to head from there. She’d flip a coin if it came down to it. Heads: Canada, tails: Mexico.

“So that’s where you’re headed,” Margo smirked, “Was wonderin’ when you’d tell me where I’m supposed to be droppin’ you off.” Sophie’s cheeks flamed under her gaze and she hid behind another sip of coffee— a tiny sip this time, knowing it would be gone soon enough and she would have nothing else for a shield against the older woman’s prodding eyes. “Well, I’m goin’ to Hollywood. So, looks like we’ll be headed north instead of goin’ straight out west.” She got up again and grabbed the paper map from the desk, laying it out on the bed. She knelt beside the bed and popped her pen’s cap off with her teeth, holding it there as she leaned over the bed, making little notes on the paper in bright red ink. Sophie peered over curiously, seeing a few spots on the map circled with little memos jotted down in swirly penmanship.

“What are you going to Hollywood for?” she looked over at where the brunette was studiously hunched over the map. At this point, she felt like she could ask Margo anything and she’d get an answer right away. However, it scared her to ask, since their deal of sharing everything equally seemed to also apply to their personal lives. If Margo wanted to know Sophie’s birthday and social security number, she would have to divulge that same information to her. That just ended up being how things worked between them from the moment Sophie demanded to know Margo’s name before she allowed her to know her own.

“Just for work,” Margo grinned up at her for a split second before turning back to the map.

“Are you an actress or something?”

“Oh, I’d love to be. That’s always been my dream job.”

Sophie smiled as she pictured Margo as a kid putting on skits that were sprinkled with extra drama so she could show off her acting chops. But another lump came to her throat when she remembered that actors usually made fantastic liars, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much Margo had lied to her about so far. She forced the thought down as she finished her coffee, staring at Margo’s side profile in silence. She watched every blink of her mascara-coated eyelashes and felt her hands grow clammy at the sight of her pink tongue poking out from the corner of her glossy lips in concentration.

“So I’m thinkin’ we should head up towards Oklahoma from here,” Margo traced the map with a polished finger, “My original plan was to hop on Route 66 and ride that all the way to Los Angeles, but we can head North after we stop over in Vegas.”

“Vegas?”

“Yeah, you ever been?”

Sophie shook her head.

“I’ve been a couple times. Gonna be scorchin’ this time’a year, but at least it’s dry,” Margo folded the map back up and tossed it towards the desk without getting up from where she was knelt on the floor.

“When are we leaving?” the blonde asked quietly, setting the empty styrofoam cup on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Margo just shrugged, leaning down onto the mattress. “Tomorrow. We paid for another night here, might as well use it, right?” Sophie nodded in agreement and twiddled her thumbs in her lap. “Well, I dunno about you, Boston, but I’m starvin’. The clerk at the corner store said there’s a little barbeque joint not far from here.”

Sophie barely had time to respond before her stomach did for her, growling noisily into the quiet room, making Margo laugh as she blushed severely.

“Well, that answers that, then. Let’s go, babygirl,” she laughed and got up from the floor, unaware of how the new nickname made Sophie feel like she was floating on air.

With their stomachs full of small town barbeque, the two woman rode back to the motel. Sophie was awake and alert enough now that she could’ve told Margo to keep heading west, but she knew that they had already paid for a second night in the little run down motel. Not that she minded. Margo was turning out to be a great…companion. She couldn’t call her a friend. She refused to get attached. But as she sang along to Reba McEntire with the older woman beside her in the truck and accepted a single puff from the cigarette between her manicured fingers, Sophie knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye when the day came. And she didn’t want to make it any harder than it needed to be.

“Hon, you mind if we stop at the corner store?” Margo asked around the cigarette between her teeth.

“Okay,” Sophie nodded looking out the window at the sunset. They had spent quite a while at the restaurant that doubled as a little honky tonk bar. Sophie spent most of the afternoon watching Margo dance with strangers from their tall table in the corner. She had a few men ask her to dance too, but she turned them all down politely. She was trying to lay low as it was, she didn’t need to become a spectacle with her two left feet. She even turned Margo down for a line dance when the brunette invited her onto the small wooden dance floor. She finally got her to walk away after the fifth “no” and join her new group of friends for a dance that everyone already knew the steps to. Margo certainly lit up the room. When they had arrived, the bar was quiet as people seemed to just want to eat or enjoy a drink, but it wasn’t long after they finished eating that she seemed to get the whole room wanting to party. Though, Sophie wasn’t surprised that Margo knew how to command a crowd. If it wasn’t her magnetic personality, she had the ability to make any guy jump with the snap of her fingers with just a smile. The short shorts and white tank top combo probably helped too.

The little convenience store wasn’t too far— probably wedged a mile between the motel and the restaurant. Margo pulled into a parking spot and flicked her cigarette out the open window. “Go and get us a pack of Newports from the counter,” she said nonchalantly, stuffing a five dollar bill into Sophie’s palm, “And go along with whatever I say.”

Sophie looked at her curiously, but Margo didn’t give her any time to ask questions. The brunette had her purse slung over her shoulder and was out of the truck before Sophie even had her seatbelt off. She scrambled out of the truck and put her backpack on her shoulders, tensely walking up to Margo who slung an arm around her and led her inside.

“Hey! Didn’t think I’d be seein’ you again so soon,” an acne-ridden boy in his mid to late teens greeted Margo from behind the counter. Sophie looked up at the taller woman beside her, watching her smile at the kid as if they were old friends.

“Well hey there, cutie! Just had to stop in to use the little girl’s room before we hit the road,” Margo sauntered up to him with her heels clicking on the floor with each step, leaning over the counter seductively. Sophie just watched from behind her as the teenager with a barely-there mustache looked at the older woman as if he had a chance with her.

“You enjoy the barbeque?” he leaned over from his side of the counter, smirking around the toothpick that dangled from his lips.

“Oh, it was delicious. You’ve got good taste, Brian,” she reached over to flirtatiously flick the rim of his trucker cap with the tip of her finger. “This is my baby sister,” she gestured back to Sophie, “Get her whatever she wants, I’ll be right back.”

Blue eyes widened a bit as Margo stepped away from the counter, looking back at Sophie with a hidden wink before she left her alone with the horny teenager.

“God, your sister is so hot,” he gawked after Margo until she rounded a corner out of sight.

“Um…yeah,” Sophie’s brow wrinkled, still processing what was going on, “Can I get a pack of Newport Lights please?”

“Good thing my sister don’t look like that,” he kept on with a goofy smile, taking the five dollar bill from her to ring up the pack of cigarettes. He was distracted enough, so he couldn’t see the obvious cringe that crossed her face. She didn’t even want to think about what this idiot kid would do if his sister looked like Margo. Wordlessly, she took the change and the small carton, turning around just in time to see Margo headed back towards them.

“All good?” she flashed shiny white teeth at her, reaching to wrap an arm over her shoulders again before starting to usher her out. “Thanks a bunch, Brian,” she blew him a kiss over her shoulder and led Sophie back to the truck, peeling quickly out of the gravel parking lot before Sophie could even get buckled in.

Reba’s voice came through on the cassette tape again, filling the confusing silence between them. Margo just tapped her hands against the steering wheel to the song’s beat without a care in the world, not even noticing Sophie staring at her from the passenger side. ”I’m sorry, what the fuck was that?” the blonde finally spoke, not taking her eyes off of her.

“What?”

“That!” Sophie gestured behind them back in the direction of the convenience store, “That…whatever that little flirty act was.”

“Oh, Brian? He and I go way back,” Margo chuckled as she pulled into the motel lot, pretending not to notice Sophie staring incredulously at her. She pulled the truck into the spot in front of their room and put it in park, turning to finally meet her eyes. “I met him when I went there earlier today. Had to bat my lashes and flirt a little to keep him distracted.”

“Distracted from what?”

Margo turned to her with what seemed like a knowing smile. “Sophie. Come on, I get that you’re naïve and I think that’s real cute’n all, but I know you’re not stupid.”

Sophie blinked at her, watching as she pulled a large bottle of tequila from her snakeskin purse. “You…you stole that?”

“Ding ding ding!” Margo laughed quietly and tucked it back into the bag, “Don’t look so surprised. You never stole nothin’ before? Even since you started hitchhikin’?”

Sophie’s mouth just opened and closed, unable to understand her own state of shock. Why was she so surprised?

“Honey, you can just kiss all your savings goodbye if you don’t learn to start pinchin’ pennies,” Margo cut the engine and got out, shaking her head with a smile as if Sophie was acting so silly.

“Pinching pennies is a lot different than shoplifting,” the younger woman muttered, getting out of the truck and following Margo to their room.

Margo rolled her eyes. “Didn’t know I was sharin’ a bed with a holy deity," she snorted as she unlocked the door for them, “So I took a few things, so what? It’s not like I held a gun to his head and made him dump all the cash he had into a bag. He don’t even know.”

She stayed quiet at that as they entered the room, placing her backpack on the floor by her suitcase again. Margo had a point, but Sophie always saw shoplifting as an absolute last resort; Something you did when you had no other option. The hair products were one thing, but they definitely didn’t need a bottle of tequila. At this point, Margo was just stealing for the hell of it.

“C’mon, Boston. You were a big, tough girl holdin’ me at gunpoint yesterday but you draw the line at nippin’ a few things from a corner store?” Margo smirked, crossing her arms to peel her tank top over her head.

Sophie was going to say that she was just surprised at being used as a prop without warning. Instead, she was rendered speechless both by the accusation towards her own crooked moral compass and the unexpected sight of Margo’s nipples, perky from the air conditioning and the color of dusty rose. “Uh…I-I, um…” she couldn’t help but stare. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat wildly in her chest— worsening when Margo slowly tugged her shorts down her legs, leaving her in just a lacy black thong. When she made eye contact with the woman again, her cheeks itched with heat and she had to avert her gaze when that damn smirk grew on Margo’s face.

“Sophie,” she drawled, teasing the awkwardly frozen blonde with her tone, “I’m startin’ to think you escaped from a convent.”

Her body released a breath in the form of an uncomfortable laugh, looking at anything in the room but her. “What?”

“So against shopliftin’, uncomfortable with nudity…Hell, I’ve hardly heard you cuss since we met. You might as well be wearin’ a habit and carryin’ around a string of rosary beads.” Margo just chuckled quietly and tugged a big t-shirt over her head.

“I-I’m not uncomfortable,” Sophie dared to meet her eyes again, “I just…didn’t expect you to get naked all of a sudden right in front of me.” Her voice was a pitch higher and a beat faster than normal, almost obvious proof of her lying through her teeth.

“So? We’re both girls, aren’t we? Nothin’ you ain’t seen in the mirror before,” Margo shrugged, sitting at the desk with her mirror and a few cotton balls to remove her makeup for the night. “You okay to keep movin’ tomorrow?” she asked, moving on as if she hadn’t just rendered Sophie catatonic.

Sophie was still stuck on her words. “Nothin’ you ain’t seen in the mirror before.” If Sophie looked in the mirror and saw what Margo had, she wouldn’t have a shred of insecurity in her whole body. She’d probably be flaunting it too, if she were honest, so she couldn’t even blame her. “Yeah. I’m, um…I’m just gonna go shower,” she nodded, still avoiding eye contact. This time, she remembered to bring her choice of pajamas into the bathroom with her this time, tossing her backpack into the corner. Her mind was already reeling from the last 24 hours, but the past twenty minutes had put her brain into overdrive. She turned on the shower and looked at herself in the mirror as it started to fog up, hating how obvious the blush on her face was. Just when she was about to remove her t-shirt, Margo knocked at the door. What could she possibly want now?

The brunette smiled at her from the other side of the door after Sophie pulled it open tentatively, holding the small shampoo and conditioner bottles out to her. “Figured you’d need these. Unless you’re against using stolen toiletries.”

Sophie just looked up towards her eyes. Margo towered over her even without the elevated heels of her boots. It was intimidating in a way that made a foreign heat pool in her gut. She wanted to clear her name, tell Margo that she really didn’t judge her for anything. Her reactions were simply out of surprise since she wasn’t used to being around such a free spirited person. But the intoxicating smell of Margo’s perfume put a haze in her mind that made her forget everything she wanted to say. “Thanks,” she whispered instead, taking the bottles with a hint of a smile and closing the door slowly. When she was alone in the small bathroom again, Sophie just stepped into the steaming hot shower and ducked under the water, trying not to think too much about the feeling of electricity that still tingled in her fingers when they brushed against Margo’s.

Chapter Text

Texas was big.

It felt like they had been driving for days and they were still an hour from Oklahoma. Margo was tired, Sophie could tell. After a while, she stopped singing along with the radio, she yawned more frequently, and she rubbed her tired eyes (carefully so as to not ruin her makeup) more times than Sophie could count. She hoped that they would stop somewhere soon. Sophie was exhausted, but more mentally than physically. Her mind had been a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts all day— from her own moral high horse to the way Margo’s presence alone was making her feel.

The older woman was taking her on a rollercoaster. In the last 48 hours, she’d held a gun to Sophie’s face, comforted her while she cried, roped her into a corner store heist, and stripped naked right in front of her as if it was nothing. That may have been her normal, but Sophie wasn’t used to so much…excitement. Back in Cambridge, the most exciting thing that happened to her in an average week was when she and Graham would go have drinks with their neighbor; and even then, Graham didn’t allow her to have alcohol. She would simply sip at her soda water with lime and try to enjoy the company.

“Hon, d’you mind takin’ the wheel for a little bit? I gotta give my calves a rest,” Margo’s low humming voice caught her attention, pulling her gaze away from counting passing streetlights on the highway.

Shit.

She should’ve known that she would be asked that question sooner or later. “I-I shouldn’t—“

“It’s okay, I trust ya,” Margo pulled into an empty parking lot, “Just for a little bit, then we’ll stop somewhere for the night once we reach Oklahoma. I’m bushed.”

“No, I mean…I can’t,” Sophie muttered, nervously glancing down to pick at her fingers in her lap. “I, um…I can’t drive.”

Margo wrinkled her brow at her, more curious than judgemental. “You don’t know how to drive?”

“I know how, I just…can’t,” she shrugged.

The brunette parked the truck in a random spot under a street light, turning to face Sophie across the bench. “I’m not followin’.”

Big blue eyes looked over at her in what little light they had around them. “What do y—“

“You know how to drive, but you can’t? Is it cause the truck’s a stick shift?”

Sophie shrugged again, biting a loose bit of skin off her lip, “That’s one reason, I guess. I just…wasn’t allowed to drive back home.” Margo’s silence was deafening and her eyes felt like daggers. She felt like she was under a magnifying glass, being evaluated and inspected as diligently as possible. Sophie knew that she could just tell her no— to find the nearest motel and keep on in the morning. But under Margo’s gaze, she felt like she couldn’t lie. She made her nervous. Not in the same way that Graham made her nervous. He made her feel like she would get in trouble for lying even when she told the truth. With Margo, she was more afraid of judgement than anger, and for the most part, Sophie couldn’t lie to her because she didn’t want to.

Margo was quiet in response, seemingly putting the pieces together herself with the information that Sophie had given her over the last few days. “Lemme guess. Graham?” she asked a bit sharply out of pure frustration for the damaged blonde beside her. It was hard to miss the flinch in Sophie’s body when she said the name of her ex-husband out loud. She didn’t know her full story, but she’d learned enough to know that this Graham character was a heavy weight on Sophie’s shoulders.

“We only had one car. He would use it to get to and from work in the city,” she started explaining quietly, not looking at the concerned woman across the bench seat. “I…I took it out one night. I wanted to go visit a friend and he wanted to stay home.” Margo was shifting towards her, she could feel it, but despite how fast her heart was beating in her chest, for once she didn’t feel afraid. “Um…” she paused, biting her lip as she thought of how to continue, “Long story short…I had a few drinks and…stupidly got behind the wheel to drive home. I thought I was fine, but…I ran a stop sign, hit a pedestrian…got a ticket, and…I haven’t driven or had a drink ever since.”

Margo watched her slump into her seat as she finished her story, hating to see the tears forming in the light from outside. “Have you wanted to?” her chest tightened when Sophie nodded, “But he wouldn’t let you.”

“He took away my keys and hid my drivers license. I have to call a taxi or get a ride from a friend if I need to go anywhere.”

“What do your friends think about that? Or about him?” Margo asked gently, unconsciously reaching over to brush a few loose strands of blonde from Sophie’s shoulder.

“Oh, they loved him,” she laughed bitterly, “They thought he was so charming and that I hit some kind of jackpot when I married him. And they believed anything he said, so even if I tried to tell them the truth, they would take his word over mine. He could charm his way out of…anything.” She didn’t realize until she had already spoken that she had been referring to Graham in past tense, and she just prayed that Margo didn’t notice. He was still a shadow of her past, regardless of the situation.

They sat in silence for a few agonizing moments, Sophie practically cowering under Margo’s stare. “So…” the brunette started, “Graham didn’t want you to drink, Graham didn’t want you to drive…but what do you want?”

“What?” Sophie turned to her with an incredulous look. It was such a basic question, but so foreign to her that it caught her off guard.

“What do you want, Sophie?” Margo’s voice became more firm.

She shook her head as she averted her gaze to the windshield. “I-I don’t know, I’ve never—“

“Don’t sit there and tell me you’ve never thought about it. Don’t lie to me, now. Ain’t no way you’ve never wondered what you’d be up to if you didn’t have some man holdin’ you on a leash,” Margo held a polished finger up at her with a fire in her eyes that scared Sophie into silence. At her lack of response, Margo got out of the truck and closed the door behind her. Sophie followed curiously with her eyes, wondering where she was going and why. But she turned up at the passenger door beside her and opened it wide, stepping back far enough for Sophie to be able to climb out. “Come on,” Margo tilted her head to beckon her out of the truck.

Sophie bit her lip and slid out to the cracked pavement, clueless as she looked up at the older woman.

“You wanna drive?” Margo asked, leaning one hand against the truck door.

“I told you I-I can’t—“

Margo shook her head, interrupting firmly enough to make it known that she was serious, but still gentle enough for Sophie to understand that it came from a good place. “I didn’t ask if you could or if you’re allowed to. Do you want to drive? If nothin’ were holdin’ you back, would you be drivin’ yourself to San Francisco instead of hitchin’ rides?”

It took a minute for Sophie to answer. She felt like if she said no, she was both a liar and a coward. But if she said yes, Graham himself would come back from the dead and berate her into the ground until she decided that she didn’t want to drive because he didn’t want her to drive. She felt pathetic for how much courage she had to muster up to even nod her head in response to Margo’s question. She wrapped her arms protectively around her own torso and stared down at her worn out sneakers, not knowing what to expect.

“Well then, drive.”

“What?”

“I want you to drive this truck right now,” Margo slapped a hand gently against the red siding, “I want you to do donuts in the parkin’ lot.”

Sophie just gaped, nervously laughing as she glanced between Margo’s feisty blue eyes and the truck beside her. “Okay, just cause I want to drive doesn’t mean I actually can! I can’t drive a stick shift, remember?”

“Oh, please, it’s easy. Come on, I’ll teach ya!” Margo seemed practically giddy as she gently shoved Sophie towards the hood so she could go around to the other side. She had already clamored into the passenger seat while Sophie just lingered at the driver’s side door. “Come on, girl,” she encouraged through the open window, watching the cogs turn behind her forehead, “You got this, Soph.”

The words of encouragement from someone she (oddly enough) looked up to made Sophie feel like she could kick down doors. Margo was so different from anyone she’d ever had in her life before. Between her parents and Graham, she never got to make choices for herself or do what she wanted to do. She hardly had any say in her own wedding. Even if she wanted to do anything reckless, someone was always there to scold her for it; especially since the accident. Graham kept an extra close eye on her after that. But now, here was this woman who dropped into her life like some kind of fallen angel— wild and dangerous, but still looking out for Sophie’s best interest, keeping her safe like it was her job. Margo wouldn’t lead her astray. Sophie met her piercing blue eyes that were filled with the warmth of a promise she could trust, biting down so hard on her lip she almost broke the skin.

“Fuck it.”

She barely registered Margo cheering her on as she climbed into the truck, getting comfortable with the proximity to the wheel and pedals. Her brain began to fuzz a bit once she realized what she was doing. She was about to drive a truck— a truck with a gear system she had no idea how to operate. The last time she was behind the wheel of a car, she nearly killed someone and nearly got killed by her husband as a result. Everything flashed back into her mind so suddenly, the flashing lights of the police cars, the sirens of the ambulance that rushed to the woman’s aid…Graham’s angry green eyes staring her down as he pushed her down to their bedroom floor…

“Hey,” Margo laid a careful hand on her thigh, sending a jolt through the blonde that was equal parts comfortable and not. She didn’t even realize how hard and ragged her own breathing had been as she lost herself in a flashback. “Sophie, you don’t have to do this if you really don’t wanna. I know I’m no better than anyone else you’ve had to deal with by orderin’ you around.”

Sophie cast her eyes down to the steering wheel, swallowing thickly to soothe her dry throat. She wanted this. She’d come all this way for freedom, there was no way she could let this chance go. She knew herself well enough to know that if she didn’t do this now, she never would. “I can do it,” she said meekly, nodding her head as she put the key in the ignition.

Margo grinned proudly at her and slid across the leather so she was flush with Sophie’s side. “Now, you’re gonna put this foot on the clutch…” she reached over to lay a hand on the younger woman’s left thigh before moving it promptly to her right, “…And this one on the brake.”

The truck came rumbling to life under them after Margo instructed her to hit the pedals before turning the key. It was extremely different from her and Graham’s little Toyota Camry. “Oookay,” she breathed deeply, already gripping the wheel like the truck would take off on its own if she didn’t hold on. Margo’s hand still gripping her thigh certainly wasn’t putting her at ease either.

“Go ahead and put it in first gear,” she instructed gently. Sophie uselessly put her hand on the gear shift, not sure what first gear was or how to get there. But Margo’s hand came down on top of hers to guide her through it. Her palm was warm against the back of her hand, and Sophie couldn’t help but blush at the way her fingers flexed over hers so they could shift gears together. “Now slowly ease your foot off the clutch. Slowly…and give it a little gas. Just a little.”

Butterflies flapped wildly in Sophie’s gut as Margo talked her through the driving lesson, still not taking her hand off of hers as the truck slowly began to move forward. But to her own disappointment, the tires screeched when the truck stalled, sending them lurching forwards a few times as she tried to fix her mistake. “Sorry,” she cringed. Margo made it look so easy.

Margo just chuckled and squeezed her hand again before draping her arm across the back of the seat. “That’s okay, honey, just try it again.“

Repeating the process under the brunette’s watchful eye, Sophie found herself back where she started, feet on the pedals, hand on the gear shift. “Nice and slow, now…that’s it.” The older woman’s voice could only be described as ‘sultry’ in her ear. Mixed with the smell of her perfume, Sophie was surprised she didn’t make the truck stall again from the distraction. No, the wheels kept rolling against the pavement, faster and faster as she quickly gained some confidence.

“There you go, you got it!” Margo hollered over the noise of the engine and took Sophie’s hand again to guide her to pull on the wheel, sending the truck whirling around in a tight circle. Sophie’s scream of terrified delight could barely be heard over the sound of the squealing tires as they went round and round, etching tire marks onto the pavement. “Look at you, you’re doin’ donuts, baby!”

The smell of burning rubber blended with Margo’s perfume. If freedom had a scent, that would be it. She giggled loudly as Margo cheered her on, turning the wheel on her own as she kept her foot on the gas. It was exhilarating, and she’d never felt anything like it before. She almost didn’t want to stop. But she slowed the truck down after about a minute, bringing it to a harsh stop that made her feel like they were going to tip over. Once the engine calmed down to a low rumble and Sophie caught her breath, she looked over to find blue eyes staring at her almost admiringly. Her cheeks already hurt from smiling and she just hoped she didn’t have anything in her teeth since they were on full display. “I did it!” she squealed, delighted as she rode out the adrenaline rush.

“You did it!” Margo repeated, using her arm that was still draped across the bench behind her to pull her into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you! How you feel?”

“I feel…I feel great!” she breathed, brushing loose blonde hair from her forehead. She felt better now than she had in years; Maybe even her whole life. For the first time in forever, she forgot about all her worries. All those problems that followed her from Cambridge, they didn’t exist in this truck. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she turned to Margo again, her face flushing a deep shade of pink when she found her eyes.

“No need to thank me, darlin’. You did that all on your own. You may have had my help and encouragement, but you drove this truck, Sophie. No one forced you to, not even me. That was all you.”

“Wow.” Sophie just took a deep breath and fixed her eyes on the registration sticker in the bottom left corner of the windshield, unable to believe that she really just drove a truck. A manual, no less. “You didn’t have to do that, though. You’re—“ she cut herself off before she could start vomiting out her adoration for the older woman. Instead, she just met her eyes again briefly, feeling her skin begin to itch with heat.

“Oh, girlie, I love you. We’re gonna have so much fun on this road trip together,” Margo waved a hand nonchalantly, though her words made Sophie feel anything but nonchalant.

“I-I love you, too,” Sophie stammered out quickly, nervous as she bit down on her lip to keep the smile from spreading across her face even more.

To her surprise, a long manicured fingernail made contact with her lip, pulling it from between her teeth before she found her cheek cradled in the warm comfort of Margo’s palm. “Now what’d I tell you about hidin’ that pretty smile from me?” the brunette smirked, grazing the pad of her thumb across her warm cheek as they tightened with a grin again. “There you are,” she said so quietly that Sophie began to question if she imagined it. But her pondering was cut short when Margo removed her hand and shifted to get out of the truck again. “Well, let’s head back a few miles to that motel we passed on the way here.”

“You don’t want me to drive now? Was it that bad?” Sophie attempted to joke with her to ease the tension she could feel hanging thick in the air.

Thankfully, Margo just laughed and shook her head. “If you want the god’s honest truth, I dunno if you’re quite ready for the open road yet, babygirl. Maybe after some more practice.” She just smirked at her, holding affectionate eye contact for a moment before they got out of the truck and switched places again.

Chapter Text

Sophie’s back was killing her. Somehow the motel they stayed at last night was even more run-down than the first one. The mattress was flimsy enough that she could feel each rickety spring through what little padding it had, there was a large, questionable stain on the carpet, and Margo had to kill not one, but two cockroaches in the bathroom. Not to mention whoever was occupying the room next door was having sex so loud that they may as well have been in the same room.

Thankfully, it was just for the night. And Sophie was so grateful to have Margo. The older woman had lied their way into another single occupancy room with the same sob story she created back on their first night— tugging at the heartstrings of the man who ran the front desk. Sophie played her part well. She coughed into her fist and let Margo pat her back and soothe her through her fake coughing fit when the guy was on the verge of turning them away. And once they had settled into the queen sized bed for the night (without the barrier of pillows this time), Margo made her laugh by starting a moaning contest with whatever woman was getting pounded next door, banging on the wall to give them a taste of their own medicine. Sophie was just glad that in the dark room, Margo couldn’t see how pink her face had become at the noises she made.

Despite the uncomfortable night, they both slept well enough to keep moving forward that morning. They got breakfast at a small local diner and continued heading north towards Oklahoma. Though, they didn’t make it very far without stopping. Margo had seen a sign for a farmer’s market and insisted that they go. Even if Sophie had any objections, she couldn’t stop Margo from taking the harsh turn onto the exit.

Now, about an hour since they arrived in the quaint little northern Texas town, the afternoon sun was beating down on Sophie’s bare shoulders as she followed the brunette around the market that was set up in a large vacant dirt lot. There were vendors of all kinds, selling anything from flowers and produce to homemade crafts. There were so many things that Sophie saw that she thought were cute, but she couldn’t justify spending any money on trinkets. However, she did drop $5 on a large bag of kettle corn for them to share.

“Oh, these are just gorgeous,” Margo gasped as they stopped in front of one vendor. Handmade jewelry covered her table, and she continued to make more from under the shade of her tent. “You make all these yourself?”

The woman with long grey hair nodded. “I do. I make all the beads myself with polymer clay.”

Sophie gawked at the woman’s work, inspecting some of the beads that were so intricate they had to have taken hours to make. “These are amazing,” she commented.

“Pick one out!” Margo nudged her arm with a smile, already searching for the perfect one for herself.

“Oh, I don’t—“ Sophie started, but Margo was quick to cut her off.

“My treat, come on. Look, we can get matchin’ ones!” She was practically giddy, pointing to a stack of different colored bracelets, each one had a clay charm with a single letter pressed into it. “What’s your name, darlin’?” she grinned at the vendor.

“Glenda,” the elderly woman smiled up at them.

“Well, Miss Glenda, you have quite the talent. And look at that, Soph, it’s like she knew we were comin’,” she pointed to a bracelet with round baby blue beads surrounding a charm of the letter ‘M’ that just so happened to be right beside a similar one in maroon with the letter ‘S’.

Sophie eyed the bracelets with a smile. It was definitely coincidental that Glenda had bracelets with their initials in their favorite colors, even though they were swapped. The fact that Margo even remembered her favorite color made her heart skip a beat.

“How much are they?” Margo asked, seemingly ready to pay whatever she had to for the bracelets.

“Ten dollars each, but I’ll do two for fifteen,” the woman stood from her lawn chair and wiped her hands on her apron, giving Margo a bit of an emotional ‘thank you’ when the brunette handed her a $20 bill and told her to keep the change. “Have a blessed day, girls,” Glenda waved them off as she sat back down in her chair.

“Bye, now,” Margo waved back after sliding the baby blue bracelet onto her own wrist.

Sophie said one final ‘thank you’ to the crafty old woman before they kept walking along the path of vendors. “What happened to pinching pennies?” she asked Margo, only half joking.

“You’re welcome for the bracelet,” blue eyes rolled in the older woman’s head as she smiled at her. “Anyway, you don’t penny pinch when you shop local. Most of these folks are probably out here every weekend tryin’ to put food on the table with stuff they made or grew themselves. Much different than liftin’ a bag of chips from a 7-Eleven.”

Sophie gazed up at her as they walked. She knew that despite her lack of qualms, Margo had a good heart and she wasn’t just looking out for herself. She was selfless in a way that Sophie had never seen in another person. At least not anyone she knew personally. Maybe it didn’t seem like it from the outside, the way she lied and stole and cheated her way into getting what she wanted, but Sophie saw the way Margo engaged with the people here as if she were one of them— like she knew their stories and wanted to do everything she could to support them.

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” pink lips quirked to the side as Sophie pondered quietly to herself, fiddling with her new bracelet. ”Y’know…you’re not what I expected you to be.”

Margo just snorted a light laugh, “And what’s that?”

“I dunno, I just…I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“That a good thing?”

Sophie thought about her answer. Was it a good thing? This woman who seemed to leave chaos in her wake had somehow managed to make things better for Sophie while simultaneously making them worse. Worse was an exaggeration, but she definitely made things feel more complicated. A week ago, Sophie was on her own, playing it as safe as she could in her situation; not sharing names, barely making eye contact, and not staying in one place with one person for too long. But with Margo, she found herself hoping that their little roadtrip would last forever, and it scared her to think about where she would go once they reached San Francisco and if she would ever see Margo again.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing this one?” she changed the subject, holding up the wrist that donned her new maroon bracelet.

“My name don’t start with an ‘S’,” the brunette wrinkled her brow back down at her as they kept walking.

“No, but…this one’s your favorite color. And you’ve got mine.”

“Exactly.” Margo just shrugged, stopping at a table to marvel at a few large flower bouquets. She left it at that with no further explanation for Sophie to make sense of.

The baby blue clashed with everything Margo wore. Sophie had hardly ever seen the taller woman without some kind of gold jewelry on. If she wore any color but gold, it was a complementary jewel tone that looked regal against her sun-kissed skin. While Sophie didn’t think that Margo could look bad in any color, she knew that the pastel shade of blue stuck out like a sore thumb against her gold bangles and rings.

Sophie didn’t mind the dark shade of red of her own bracelet. She hardly wore anything but a necklace lately anyway, with the exception of her wedding ring. Red didn’t clash with anything she had, it didn’t throw off any kind of aesthetic she was aiming to achieve like the baby blue did with Margo. Even if it did, it was nice to have a reminder of her, so Sophie wouldn’t have cared. Maybe that was Margo’s reasoning too, but she doubted it.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, staring at the bracelet on her wrist, that she didn’t realize how long Margo had been chatting with the young woman that was selling flower bouquets. “Earth to Sophie,” she heard in a teasing tone at the same time an elbow nudged her gently in the ribs. “Smile!” Margo caught her off guard with a Polaroid camera held up in front of them. The blonde smiled at the last minute just before the camera clicked and quickly printed the photo. While Margo took the photo and fanned it back and forth with delicate fingers, Sophie was given the chance to catch up on whatever the hell was going on.

“Thanks so much, Lila,” Margo handed the camera to the flower vendor in front of them that she’d apparently borrowed it from and took the two shortly cut daisies that the woman handed to her, delicately tucking one behind Sophie’s ear with a grin. Thankfully, she turned to start walking again before the blush took over her whole face.

Sophie walked a step behind her, trying to get a peek at the picture Margo was still flapping slowly back and forth. “Do you know her?” she asked, looking up at her as she tucked the other flower behind her own ear.

“No. I mean, her name’s Lila, she sells flowers, and she’ll let you use her camera if you offer her five bucks. But that’s the extent of it,” Margo chuckled, reaching for more kettle corn from the bag Sophie had in her hand. “You all right over there? You were spaced out just starin’ at your bracelet for a while.”

”Yeah! Just…thinking.” She winced knowing that she’d been caught zoning out. “Sorry, I just feel kinda out of it after last night. Tired, I guess.”

“Yeah, that place was a dump,” Margo pulled her sunglasses down from where they sat at the top of her head, “Don’t help that it’s hot as balls out here. We can get goin’ now if y’like.”

Sophie nodded and tied up the bag in her hand before she thumbed towards the little barn just ahead. “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom real quick before we go?”

“No, you’re gonna have to hold it.” Margo’s tone was serious, and Sophie couldn’t see her eyes through her dark lenses.

Her heart dropped to her stomach and her lips parted, unsure of what to say in response. “Oh, um…o-okay, I can wa—“

“Boston, go pee for Christ’s sake,” the brunette flashed her teeth with an amused smile, making it clear that she was just messing with her. “I’m just playin’, but don’t you let anyone ever tell you that you can’t take a bathroom break.”

Sophie released the breath she’d been holding in the form of an awkward laugh, letting her heart rate settle down as Margo took the kettle corn so Sophie didn’t have to carry it with her. She kicked herself just a little on the way to the barn, feeling stupid for how weak she must have seemed. She’d grown and learned quite a bit in the last two weeks, so she hated when poor little Sophie from Cambridge reared her ugly head. It was like taking three giant steps back after one step forward.

She wiped the thin layer of sweat from her brow and fiddled anxiously with her bracelet as she entered the barn. Following the signs towards the women’s room.

“Hey!” a male voice, as unthreatening as it sounded, made her flinch, stopping dead in her tracks. “I know you. You went to U-Mass!”

Sophie stilled, feeling her blunt fingernails digging crescents into her palm. The man, who wasn’t from around here according to his accent, walked around her instead of waiting for her to turn around. To make matters worse, it was just the two of them in the room. Sophie met his eyes as she stood still as a statue, trying not to seem suspicious. “Uh, no. No, I didn’t, um…I didn’t go to college.” She stopped her fingernails from drawing blood in her palms and reached for her backpack straps, gripping them tightly.

“No, I definitely know you,” the stranger squinted at her as if he were trying to get a better look at her.

“Excuse me, I have to—“ she moved to step around him.

“Sophie, right? Mr. Paxton’s political science class? Fall of ‘87? I’m Dan, I sat like two seats behind you.”

Her vision tunneled and her mouth went bone dry. She remembered that class. That semester. That year. She didn’t remember him, but she hardly remembered anything from freshman year. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he wasn’t. If she was being hunted down all the way from Massachusetts, they probably had traced her back a few years to get as much info on her as they could, trying to find anyone they could connect her to— someone that may know her or friends who may know where she was hiding. And what were the chances that this Dan from her political science class just happened to be at the same little farmers market as her, halfway across the country on the border of Texas and Oklahoma? The world could be small, but that was microscopic.

She took off running in the other direction, completely forgetting the ache in her bladder. She nearly knocked someone over when she swung the door open, apologizing in passing as she ran, too afraid to look back. Margo was standing at a booth about fifty feet away, but she felt so much farther, like every step Sophie took pulled her farther away. But she finally found herself at the brunette’s side, unable to control her breathing.

“Hey, you all right? What’s wrong?” she did a double take when she saw how red and distressed Sophie looked.

“Can we go? We have to go. Now. Please.” Sophie was babbling so frantically, she wasn’t even sure if her words were coherent. She grabbed Margo’s hand and dragged her back down the path towards the parking lot, moving so fast that even Margo’s long legs could barely keep up with her.

“Sophie, what is goin’ on?” the older woman asked. Even if she wanted to let her hand go, Sophie had it in an unrelenting vice grip as she pulled her along.

Sophie’s calves were burning by the time they finally reached the truck. She only let Margo’s hand go to tug at the door handle, trying to get into the safety of the Chevy C10. If Margo hadn’t nudged her aside to unlock it for her, she probably would have broken the handle off in her desperate attempt to get in. “Drive. Please, just go, I wanna get out of here,” she demanded shakily when Margo got into the driver’s seat beside her, not even giving her a chance to try to ask what was wrong. Thankfully, the older woman didn’t ask any questions, she just brought the truck to life and took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind as she pulled onto the road.

The drive was silent, save for Sophie’s labored breathing and the rev of the engine each time Margo stepped on the gas. The blonde dared to look in the side mirror every so often, hoping they weren’t being followed, but in the fifteen minutes of terrified silence, she managed to calm herself down enough to stop looking— stop worrying for now.

“You gonna tell me why we had to race outta there?” Margo asked gently, turning to Sophie just in time to see her drop her head into her hands. “Hey, what’s got you so spooked?” She reached across the bench and rested a hand on the back of her head, raking her manicured fingers through blonde hair soothingly.

Sophie practically folded in half in her seat as her body began to recover from her panic attack. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and her lungs burned in her chest from holding it all in. When she felt the truck slow to a stop, bouncing a bit on the rocky shoulder, she squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that Margo deserved answers that she wasn’t quite ready to give.

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” Margo cooed, parking the truck at the roadside before sliding across the leather to wrap Sophie in her arms, “You’re all right.”

The blonde fell into those comforting arms with ease, feeling her body deflate when she allowed herself to cry and be soothed by Margo’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, staining the sleeve of her flowy chiffon blouse with tears, “I’m so…so fucking sorry.” Margo didn’t give her any response aside from soothing sounds and gentle fingernails massaging against her scalp. “Th-there was a…a guy,” she hiccupped, “H-he said he knew me f-from school. I…I panicked.”

Margo was silent, just lending her ears to listen. “What’s the big deal if he knows you from school?” she asked tenderly.

A fresh wave of tears sprung to Sophie’s eyes at the question, realizing how stupid it must have sounded. “They’re…they’re looking for me.”

“Who?”

“Everyone,” she blubbered, keeping her face buried against her. She didn’t know for a fact that she was in trouble, but she knew that they were looking for her back home. There was no way they weren’t. Someone had to have found Graham’s body in the foyer of their house by now, and Sophie’s sudden disappearance only made her a prime suspect.

“Why?”

The answer was at the tip of Sophie’s tongue. She wanted to tell her so badly just to get it out, so it would stop eating her alive. She killed her husband. She hadn’t said it out loud yet. Saying it out loud would make it real. But she was learning now that whether she said it out loud or not, it was catching up to her quickly.

“Sophie?” Margo spoke up with a curious voice after a few minutes of just listening to Sophie’s sobs and sniffles, “Just tell me one thing, okay?” She pulled back, running the pads of her thumbs to wipe her tears as she cradled her face in both hands. Watery blue eyes found hers with tears falling faster than Margo could catch them. “Graham…” she started, noticing how Sophie stiffened at the name, “He still alive?”

Sophie could tell that Margo was holding her breath as she waited for a response. This could be the end of everything. Sophie could confess what she did and things could go one of two ways. 1. She’d learn the hard way that Margo had been against her all along, gaining her trust to get a confession out of her before hauling her back to Cambridge; Or 2. she would leave her there on the roadside and speed off, not wanting to associate herself with a murderer. Sophie prepared herself for either outcome as best she could, accepting that she was going to end up hurt either way.

She finally shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut again so she couldn’t see Margo’s reaction. Whether those icy blue eyes shone with victory or disappointment, she couldn’t bear to see either.

“Did you have somethin’ to do with it?” her voice was ominously low, but somehow still able to send a wave of comfort through the younger woman. If Margo was some undercover detective or something, she was certainly good at her job. Sophie nodded this time, ready to be met with a SWAT team outside the door. At this point, maybe she was just better off confessing and turning herself in.

To her surprise, she found her face buried in the crook of Margo’s neck, engulfed in the mixed scent of Chanel perfume, cigarettes, and sweat from the raging sun. Nails scratched comfortingly up and down her back as Margo held her close. So far, there were no SWAT team and no handcuffs, easing Sophie’s worry about Margo being some kind of private eye sent to find her. That only left one option: this was goodbye. This was Margo letting her go gently— wishing her well like the kind-hearted person she was before she kicked her out of the truck, not wanting to tie herself to her any more than she already had.

“Hey, look at me,” Margo pulled back again to catch her eyes, “You’re safe. Y’hear me?”

Sophie just stared at her, confused. She hadn’t considered the secret third option: Margo genuinely wanting to befriend her and help her out. The idea seemed so far-fetched in the wake of her confessing to murdering her husband that she didn’t think it was plausible.

“I mean it, Sophie. No one’s gonna get you. Not without dealin’ with me first.” Margo sounded so confident in her affirmation, but it only made Sophie feel worse knowing that this woman she met just days ago was willing to risk her own safety to protect her. Her eyes still stung with tears as she fell into Margo again, relishing the feeling of strong arms wrapped protectively around her. While she didn’t feel like she deserved comfort, she soaked it up while she had it, knowing it couldn’t last forever.

Chapter Text

They kept heading North towards Route 66. Sophie had managed to calm down enough to get in a bit of driving practice after they stopped for lunch. She was picking up the manual gear shift faster than she expected. Though, that’s not to say that she didn’t stall at a few intersections, pissing off several impatient drivers that Margo ended up sending off with a wave of her perfectly polished middle finger.

Over the course of the day, their plans for tomorrow had been secured. Margo, to Sophie’s surprise, insisted on going to church in the morning. Of all the things she’d learned about Margo, that was the most surprising. But she learned that in the bible belt, you didn’t have to be a god-fearing saint to go to church. Depending on your upbringing, it was just what you did on Sunday mornings, like going to work or school during the week. Back in New England, Sophie had been raised Catholic. She went to Sunday School for a few years as a child and had her first communion when she was eight years old, but there wasn’t much else to it besides that. Her parents weren’t religious enough to feel like they had to go to church every week. They went to midnight mass for Christmas and sometimes they got their foreheads marked with charcoal on Ash Wednesday. It was rare that they attended church more than three times a year.

Margo, she’d learned, wasn’t a devout Christian, but going to church at least made her feel better about herself and the decisions she’d made in life so far, and she tried to go whenever she could. To Sophie, her reasoning made more sense than the people who claim that they have to go in order to get into Heaven. Regardless, she was just grateful that Margo wasn’t some preachy, holier-than-thou type that looked down on her for not going to church every Sunday.

Their other plan for the day was target practice. When Sophie had finally calmed down after about thirty minutes of driving from the farmer’s market in silence, Margo had asked her why she didn’t pull her gun on the guy that approached her if he scared her so badly. And Sophie, feeling much more at ease around her than before, informed her that not only was the gun not even loaded, but she didn’t know how to use it. The news made Margo nearly slam on the brake in surprise.

”So you’ve just been carryin’ around a useless gun?”

”It’s not useless! Just having it on me has helped me so far.”

”Honey, ain’t nothin’ more useless than an unloaded gun. And what exactly is your plan if you ever have to actually use it?”

That conversation was what led to Margo’s plan of finding an open field and teaching Sophie how to shoot. She didn’t care how long it took, but she was going to make sure that the younger woman knew how to protect herself. What Sophie didn’t tell her was that she’d already used the gun. Once. That was what led her to her life on the run.

With their plans secured for the next day, they stopped at an inn just off of Route 66. It certainly wasn’t a fancy hotel, but it was much nicer than the past two motels they’d stayed at. Margo didn’t even have to swindle the receptionist at this one. Sophie had her coughing act all ready to go, but they were immediately offered a room with two twin beds. It was a quaint room on the second floor with a small TV and complimentary take-out menus fanned out on the nightstand. Hell, they even provided breakfast in the lobby in the morning. After last night, the inn felt like a five star Hilton resort.

“Woo, now this is more like it,” Margo flopped back on the bed closest to the window, stretching out against the pillows that were actually fluffed up and didn’t smell like mildew.

Sophie just giggled and set her suitcase down by the wall, looking through it for something comfortable to wear for the night. “Do you think we can stop at a laundromat tomorrow too? I’m running out of clean underwear.”

“Yeah for sure. I don’t think I’ve done laundry since I left Alba. And there’s only so many times you can put your panties on inside out to get a second use out of’em,” she chuckled, reaching for the remote.

“Ew!” the younger woman squealed through a laugh, scrunching her nose up in disgust.

Margo just shrugged, laughing as she got up to find the rest of the big bag of kettle corn from the farmer’s market. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Well, I hope we never reach that level of desperation.” Sophie just pulled a large t-shirt from her suitcase. She hadn’t reached a point where she felt comfortable leaving her backpack unattended just yet, but each day and night with Margo, she could feel herself getting closer. Tonight, she brought it into the bathroom with her like she always did, setting it in the corner before she turned the shower on.

Even though this was only their fourth night together, they developed a routine. Like clockwork, Sophie would get in the shower while Margo removed her makeup. Not long after she applied her conditioner, Margo would knock twice before coming in to brush her teeth, sometimes pee, and then go back into the main room. They would rarely talk in the five-ish minutes that they shared the bathroom, but it had become a comfortable silence that Sophie had grown used to. It felt…domestic in a strange way. As much as Sophie hated bouncing from motel to motel across the country, she wouldn’t mind it if they got to stay wrapped in their unofficial little routine every night. There was comfort in consistency.

The only thing that was breaking the norm tonight (aside from the fact that they would probably be falling asleep to the sound of the TV), was the fact that they were sleeping separately. Sophie wondered if Margo was feeling the same deeply hidden, lingering disappointment that she was. Probably not. Sophie liked sharing a bed with Margo because it made her feel safe and secure. The imaginary monsters couldn’t get to her with Margo right beside her. She hadn’t even had any nightmares since they met. And even though she would never admit it out loud, she loved the way that the brunette had a habit of unconsciously needing some kind of contact while she slept. For the past three days, Sophie had woken up at some point in the night or early in the morning to find that Margo had entwined a leg with hers or draped an arm over her in her sleep. Sophie told herself that she just loved the extra layer of protection, but it would take wild horses quartering her to get her to admit that she would snuggle closer into Margo’s warmth and stay awake to enjoy it for as long as she could.

Sophie just sighed and turned off the water once she rinsed the conditioner from her blonde hair. The deep pink tint in her cheeks was from the hot shower. Definitely not from the memory of waking up in Margo Banks’s arms. Once she was dressed in her long t-shirt and her hair was tied up into a damp bun, she stepped out into the main room again. The lamp on Margo’s bedside and the TV were the only things lighting up the room as Margo filed her nails distractedly.

“You’re learnin’ to shoot tomorrow, girlie, so make sure you get plenty of sleep. We don’t need any accidents,” Margo grinned up at her when she entered the room, still looking like a goddess to Sophie even without makeup.

The younger woman just laughed as she got into the twin sized bed about three feet away from the other. “Church and guns in the same day. Can’t say I’ve ever done that before.”

“Welcome to the bible belt, baby. All that’s missin’ is bottomless mimosas for brunch,” Margo smirked, watching Sophie get comfortable in the bed beside hers. “The TV botherin’ you at all?”

Shaking her head, Sophie just yawned and mumbled out a negative. Still, Margo turned down the volume of the random sitcom rerun and turned off her bedside lamp so the room filled with the cool, blue light from the flickering TV glow; And it didn’t take long for Sophie to fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

“Sophie, I know you’re in there.” Graham’s voice was loud, booming on the other side of the motel room door as he nearly knocked the door off its hinges just by banging on it repeatedly.

Sophie sat up in her bed, staring at the door with her blue eyes widened in fear. She folded her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, too afraid to move.

“Open the door, Sophie!”

Looking across to the second bed, Sophie’s brow wrinkled when she saw it was empty and neatly made up as if no one had even touched it. Where was Margo? Her heart pounded in her chest harder than each blow Graham was leaving on the door with his fist. With the light of the TV that had been left on, she searched the room for signs of the older woman. Her black and gold suitcase was gone, her snakeskin purse no longer sat on the dresser by the door. The room didn’t even faintly smell of her perfume. She was gone. It was like she was never here in the first place.

“Sophie open the fucking door right now!” Graham practically roared outside. Each time he hit the door, the looser the hinges became. Sophie was running out of time.

She scrambled from the bed, running towards where she had laid her backpack and suitcase for the night— but they were gone too. “No,” she gasped, feeling her chest begin to tighten more as she looked around for her belongings. The closet was empty, the bathroom was empty. It was just her and the staticky TV in the room, and her husband on the other side of the door, quickly breaking his way in.

“Go away, Graham, please!” she begged, unsure of what else to do besides get back into bed and hide under the covers like a child.

“You think you can run from me?!” his voice seemed like it was getting closer and closer, “You can’t hide from me, Sophie O’Neil. I’ve always got eyes on you even when you don’t know it.”

Sophie covered her ears in a desperate attempt to drown him out. She should’ve known that she couldn’t run away from him. He always told her that if she did, he would find her, and that no one would believe her if she tried to get him into any kind of trouble. There was no use in trying to fight it, or him. He was too strong and he knew that he had the ability to scare her.

The door finally gave in, falling into the room with a crash that was louder than Sophie’s scream of terror. She could feel him moving closer. Each footstep made the room quake. He was right beside her bed, breathing heavily from breaking the door down. She could smell the mix of cologne and whiskey that had become his signature scent, and she just allowed herself to cry as she accepted her fate, keeping herself rolled into the tightest ball she could manage. She felt his fist grab onto the duvet that was shielding her, and she braced herself for the worst when it was ripped away—

With a rapidly beating heart, Sophie opened her eyes that may as well have been welded shut. The room was dark, aside from the blue glow of the TV and she was folded tightly into a ball with her hands over her ears. She panted heavily as she peeked around the duvet, seeing her suitcase and backpack by the wall where she remembered putting them. The room smelled faintly of Margo’s perfume, and after forcing herself to sit up and look around, she saw that Margo was still there— tucked into her bed and sleeping soundly three feet away. Her suitcase, her purse, everything was still there. It was just a dream.

Sophie wiped the thin layer of sweat from her forehead and held a hand to her chest as she tried to slow her breathing. The door was deadbolted. Even if it wasn’t, Graham was dead. He couldn’t get her. That nightmarish part of her life was over. Though his voice from her nightmare echoed in her mind.

”You can’t hide from me, Sophie O’Neil. I’ve always got eyes on you even when you don’t know it.”

She swiped the fallen tears off her hot cheeks and sniffled, bringing her knees to her chest in an attempt to calm herself down enough to go back to sleep. It was just a bad dream. It wasn’t the first, and it wouldn’t be her last. She’d soothed herself after nightmares before, but this one was the most vivid and intense one she’d had in a while. She looked to Margo’s bed again, feeling silly about the sense of relief that came over her just knowing that she was there and wishing that the three feet of empty space between them didn’t exist right now.

Maybe I could…

No. God no, there was no way that Sophie was going to disturb Margo from her sleep just to ask if she could climb into the twin-sized bed with her just for her own selfish comfort. She was twenty-four years old for god’s sake, she didn’t need comfort. Crawling into someone else’s bed for comfort after a nightmare was for little kids. By the time she reached third grade, her parents began to refuse to let her crawl into bed between them, claiming that she was a big girl now and she needed to learn to self-soothe. So since she was eight years old, that’s what Sophie had done.

But her body didn’t seem to listen. Her legs moved as if they didn’t care about the memory of her father’s voice telling her to go back to her own bed. Instead, she found herself standing at the edge of Margo’s small bed, hesitating only for a moment before gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up.

“Margo,” she whispered, feeling a deep sense of relief when tired blue eyes blinked open to meet hers. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. What time is it?” her voice was hoarse from sleep.

Sophie bit her lip and rubbed her clammy palms together. “Um…like 1:30.”

“Too early for breakfast, then.” The brunette snorted and sat up on her elbows and rubbed her eye with a yawn. “Why the wake-up call then, Boston?”

Sophie felt stupid again. Was she really about to ask a woman she’d known for half a week if she could sleep in her bed with her just because she was frightened by a nightmare? She was a grown woman who had hitchhiked her way across half the country and held people at gunpoint like she was Bonnie Parker, but a nightmare was too much for her to handle?

“You have a nightmare?” Margo asked gently— a mind reader as always. Sophie just nodded slowly, feeling tears spring to her eyes again. But to her surprise, instead of being told to suck it up and go back to bed, Margo just lifted the covers, inviting Sophie into the twin-sized bed with her. “Come on,” she patted the mattress beside her and slid over as much as she could to make room.

Sophie told herself to say no. She told herself to just decline the kind offer and apologize for waking her up before going back to her own bed. But her body moved forward, tucking herself in beside Margo as the older woman draped the duvet over her.

“You’re okay, just relax. Gonna do with you what I used to do with Kyle,” Margo said quietly, trying her best to soothe the sniffling blonde, “Kid had nightmares just about every night til he was in high school. Turn around.” She nudged Sophie gently to ease her onto her side, pulling her close so her back was flush with Margo’s front. “Hug on my arm,” she instructed, wrapping her arm around her so her forearm was parallel with her body— her palm pressed to her sternum.

Sophie hated that Margo could feel how fast her heart was beating like this, but if necessary, she could just blame the nightmare. She circled her arms around Margo’s tanned forearm, clutching it to her chest like she would a stuffed animal that she loved dearly. The brunette was silent as she got comfortable behind her. If this technique of hers wasn’t soothing enough already, it only got better when Margo began to tap the pads of her fingers rhythmically against Sophie’s chest. The younger woman released a shaky breath of relief as the gentle rhythmic tapping became all she could focus on.

“Try to figure out what song I’m playin’, okay?” That low southern drawl in her ear made Sophie’s face turn a deep shade of pink, but she followed the instructions, focusing on each tap of Margo’s fingers against her breastbone. The more she focused on the rhythm, trying to figure out the pattern, the more she felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier; And it didn’t take long for her to fall right back to sleep, tucked safely in Margo’s arms without a care in the world for once.

Chapter Text

Much to her own disappointment, Sophie woke up the next morning alone in Margo’s bed. But unlike in the nightmare that led her there, traces of the woman still remained in the room— from her scattered belongings to the sound of the shower running from behind the bathroom door. When she looked at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, she simply laid back down. 7AM was too early to be awake, but apparently Margo didn’t think so. Sophie hoped she hadn’t made it uncomfortable for her to sleep through the night. According to Graham, she was a duvet hog and a kicker while she slept. Then again, for all she knew, Margo could have simply switched beds with her after Sophie had fallen asleep.

The shower knob creaked in the bathroom, not giving Sophie much time to think about what she was going to say to the older woman. Crawling into someone’s bed after a nightmare was embarrassing enough as an adult but to thank them for it the next morning? That just seemed corny. From the noises she could hear, Margo was doing her morning routine: brushing her teeth, lathering her skin with good-smelling lotion, and blow drying her hair. That bought Sophie some time. She wanted to do something nice for her as a thank you for last night. Biting her lip, she looked around the room, wondering what she could do, but a lightbulb flashed over her head when her stomach growled loudly in the silent room.

Breakfast.

She could bring her breakfast! It was free for guests in the lobby, though she wasn’t quite sure what the quality of a roadside inn’s breakfast selection would be. Even if the food didn’t look appetizing, she could at least bring Margo a coffee. While the brunette moved around the bathroom, Sophie threw her legs over the edge of the bed, slid on her denim shorts from yesterday, and left a short note for Margo on the desk before quietly slipping out of the room.

Unfortunately, she didn’t realize that she had forgotten to bring a room key with her until she was standing in front of their door with a tray of toast, bacon, questionable looking scrambled eggs, and two mugs of coffee— one black and one with cream and too much sugar the way Sophie liked it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself. Using what skills she had acquired as a waitress in college, she balanced the tray between her hand and her shoulder so she could knock on the door. “Margo?” she called as she knocked, trying to stay relatively quiet for their neighbors considering the sun had only been up for an hour.

The door opened with a click, revealing the brunette on the other side wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. “Funny, I don’t remember orderin’ room service,” she chuckled and stepped to the side to let Sophie in.

“I-I figured it’s the least I could do…to thank you for, uh…for last night.” Sophie set the tray down on the dresser next to the TV, proud of herself for only spilling a little bit of coffee on the trip upstairs.

“No need to thank me, honey,” Margo waved a hand and closed the door behind her, padding barefoot towards the dresser to nip a piece of bacon. Her hair was done, blown out in long light brown waves; and as usual, her makeup was flawless.

Sophie nearly forgot they were even having a conversation as she watched her sit on the edge of her bed with her coffee. “No, really,” she shook her head and brought a piece of toast with her to sit at the small desk in the corner, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “You…you have no idea what that, um…what that meant to me,” she stammered with a pink hue staining her cheeks.

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Tell you to suck it up and go back to bed?” Margo chuckled.

Sophie sipped at her coffee, looking down at her sandals. Unfortunately, from experience, that was exactly what she had expected Margo to do. But the older woman was surprising her each and every day with something new. “I never figured out the song,” she said quietly, dodging the rhetorical question.

“Mm,” Margo hummed and set her mug down before standing back up to rummage through her suitcase. “The Ballad of Paladin.” A thin brow raised back at her in confusion. “First thing I could think of. It was one of Kyle’s favorite songs when we were kids. He watched a rerun of ‘Have Gun — Will Travel’ one day and then decided he wanted to be John Wayne.”

Sophie just smiled at Margo’s light laugh. She really loved the way she had a glow to her when she talked about her brother. ”I’ve never heard of it.”

“I’ve got it on a tape somewhere in the truck. Kinda reminds me of you. I’d sing it for ya, but the good lord made me tone deaf. Can’t carry a tune to save my life. S’why I started playin’ songs by tappin’ my fingers instead of singin’ the kid back to sleep.” She pulled a simple navy blue sun dress out of her suitcase, throwing it on the bed before starting to remove her towel.

Sophie’s cheeks flushed again and she averted her gaze.

“Right, sorry,” Margo replaced the towel against her chest with a smirk and picked the dress up to go change in the bathroom, “I forgot Sister Sophie don’t like lookin’ at boobies.”

The blonde’s mouth hung open in offense, unable to stop the corners from curling up into an amused smile. “I don’t— I-I mean, it’s not that I don’t like looking at…um—“ she stuttered pathetically, digging herself into a deeper hole under Margo’s smug stare. “You can change wherever you want, I don’t care,” she let out in one breath and tucked loose blonde strands behind her ear, unfortunately failing at playing nonchalant.

Margo just stood across the room with her dress in one hand and the other on her hip, watching the poor girl struggle. “Don’t worry, Boston, I’ll spare your virginal eyes. This time, anyway.”

Sophie just gawked after her as she closed herself into the bathroom, trying to identify the feeling in her chest. The only word she could come up with was ‘disappointed’, which caused a whole new storm in her mind. She got up from her chair and grabbed a piece of bacon, holding it between her teeth as she went through her own suitcase and shoved the thoughts down.

“Do I have to dress up for church? I don’t really have anything fancy,” she called out, sifting through her belongings.

“Nothin’ fancy. We ain’t goin’ to see the pope or nothin’. I don’t recommend havin’ your asscheeks hangin’ out your shorts in God’s house, but if that’s your Sunday best…”

Sophie laughed, pulling out a floral knee-length skirt and the nicest shirt she packed. It was a pink pointelle knit blouse with a scalloped trim around the hem and short sleeves. “Can we still go do laundry after?”

“Yeah, of course,” Margo came out of the bathroom, adjusting the large belt that she had put on over the flowy dress.

The blonde stood up with her clothes in hand and glanced between the bathroom and where Margo was pulling cowgirl boots onto her feet. Part of her wanted to prove to Margo that she wasn’t a prude and she wasn’t uncomfortable with nudity; But she closed herself into the bathroom anyway, telling herself that it was simply for efficiency reasons. She could get dressed, brush her teeth, and comb her hair all in one convenient place. It had nothing to do with the fact that she stopped breathing at the very idea of Margo Banks seeing her naked.

Church had been…an experience. Sophie knew that whatever church they went to, it wasn’t one that Margo was a member of, but they had an open door policy— where anyone who wanted to get saved could come right in and repent their sins. What Sophie didn’t expect was how much this random church Margo had pulled up to would focus on sins. Whatever the denomination was of the chapel they’d entered, the preacher focused heavily on the ideas of hell and eternal damnation.

During the service, Sophie had taken a few glances at Margo in the pew beside her, relieved to see that the older woman didn’t seem too keen on the fire and brimstone fear-mongering and hateful rhetoric that were hidden under a thin veil of religion. Surprisingly (but thankfully), Margo had stood up not too long into the service and beckoned for Sophie to follow. They slipped out of the chapel slowly— thankfully unnoticed from the back row— and it wasn’t until they had left the building that Sophie realized that they were actually leaving. Surely, there was something blasphemous about that but Margo didn’t seem to care.

“That ain’t my kinda church,” the brunette had scrunched up her nose in distaste as they peeled out of the parking lot, “May he strike me down for sayin’ so, but I don’t believe in God-fearin’. I think God is someone you should feel safe with, not someone you should be scared into pleasin’.”

Sophie found comfort in that sentiment. She wasn’t sure she even believed in God, but she appreciated Margo’s point of view.

“Seventeen across. Fancy feet, blank Kelly,” Margo tapped her pen on the washing machine she was currently sitting on top of at the laundromat.

“Gene.” Sophie deadpanned from where she was sprawled out on the nearest bench. She forgot how boring doing laundry was when you had to sit around and wait for it to finish. Margo’s People magazine crossword puzzles were the only thing keeping them sane.

Margo wrote in the answer with the magazine in her lap, “Looks good.” She took a puff of her cigarette and crossed one leg over the other. Sophie had to physically pinch herself each time she thought about how Margo had reached under her blue dress and shimmied her thong down her legs before throwing it into the washing machine at the last minute. She flushed a deep shade of red when she remembered that Margo was shamelessly going commando while sitting on top of a running washing machine.

“Twenty down, 1978 Tony award winner for best new musical,” the brunette read aloud again.

“You weren’t serious about going shooting later, were you?” Sophie picked her head up and propped her chin on her hands, big blue eyes looking up at where Margo sat across from the bench.

“Serious as a heart attack, darlin’,” she responded flatly as she glanced at the magazine, unflinching as if she’d been waiting for Sophie to ask, “1978, shit how old was I then? I don’t even think I knew what Broadway was ’til junior high.”

”Margo.”

Fierce blue eyes met hers from over the magazine. Sophie’s face was stern, but innocently inquisitive at the same time— wordlessly demanding for Margo to take her seriously.

The older woman sighed and put the magazine down, putting her cigarette out on the tray she had brought up onto the machine with her. “Yes, Sophie, I was serious. You need to learn how to use that thing before you find yourself in deep shit,” she nodded her head towards Sophie’s backpack where she knew her unloaded gun was stashed. “Y’ask me, it’s a miracle we met. Who knows what kinda trouble you’d be in now if I hadn’t found ya.”

”You’re trouble,” Sophie muttered quietly with a small teasing smile.

“Damn right, I am!” Margo chuckled smugly, hopping off the washing machine. The heels of her cowgirl boots clicked with each step she took towards the bench before she crouched down in front of Sophie. “But lucky for you, I’m the kinda trouble that’s gonna keep you out of more.”

Sophie bit the inside of her lip, unable to stop her eyes from trailing across Margo’s face when she knelt down in front of her. “By teaching me how to use a dangerous weapon?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, good thing I have you, then,” she rolled her eyes playfully, using it as an excuse to avert her gaze.

The brunette nodded in agreement. “Good thing y’have me.”

Margo’s nose scrunched up with a silly smile as she pat the sides of Sophie’s thighs encouragingly, leaving her palms against the cotton of her floral skirt. Sophie tore her eyes from hers to glance down at her lap, feeling her breath catch in her throat at both the sight and the feeling of Margo’s thumbs making slow swipes over the fabric. To make matters worse, she knew what those hands felt like without the barrier in between, and she found herself wishing she’d switched into her shorts earlier so she didn’t have to go without that feeling now. But no, her shorts just had to be tangled up in a soapy mess in the washing machine across from them.

Margo was still crouched down in front of her, smiling softly up at her with a look that Sophie just couldn’t identify. And she was close enough that her signature scent of perfume and Newport Lights was overpowering the strong smell of mildew and fabric softener in the laundromat. Her throat went dry as she mentally kicked herself for not saying anything, instead she just relished in the warmth of her unrelenting gaze, cheeks burning when she swore she felt the fabric of her skirt bunch up a bit in Margo’s hands.

But to her relief (and hidden disappointment), Margo’s hands slid down her thighs and over her bent knees until she was gone, standing back up and perching herself back on top of the washing machine with her face hidden behind the magazine. Sophie’s heart pounded in her chest, making her grateful for the noisy machines and staticky old radio playing in the corner.

“1978…” Margo muttered to herself, tapping her pen against her lower lip— so deep in thought that she probably wasn’t even aware of how flustered she’d left the younger woman across from her.

“Isn’t the point to learn how to use my own gun?” Sophie asked, watching as Margo set up a few tin cans and glass bottles on the rickety wooden fence. They’d picked up a few bottles and cans littered outside the laundromat and Margo managed to find a deserted old bit of farm land, complete with a barn that looked like it had definitely seen better days.

“You got bullets for your gun?” Margo eyed her over her shoulder as she lined up the pieces of trash on the only part of the fence that didn’t look like it was going to collapse at the slightest touch.

“No, but—“

“Then you’ll learn on mine. What’s yours, a magnum 45?” Sophie just shrugged, looking down at the pistol in her own hands that she’d been toting around. “Let me see,” Margo took the gun from her carefully, looking it over, “Well, the good news is you’ve got yourself a revolver like mine. Just a little bit different in style, but operatin’em are just about the same.”

Sophie grimaced when the gun was placed back in her hand.

“I’ll have you practice with yours to start off. So just…hold it. Hold it like you know what you’re doin’ with it.”

Sophie just chuckled nervously, feeling like she was putting on some kind of skit when she held the gun and waved it around for Margo to analyze.

“Lookin’ good, Boston! Just take your finger off the trigger. Never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re intendin’ to use it, you understand me?”

A nod.

“What’d I say?”

“Don’t put my finger on the trigger unless I plan to
use it,” the younger woman repeated back to her, swallowing thickly as she remembered that she was actually holding a deadly weapon— a weapon that she’d used and killed with before. She brushed the reminder away and did what she was asked again, without her finger over the trigger this time.

Margo smiled and nodded. “Good girl. Now, I want you to aim it right at me.”

“What?” she nearly dropped the gun in surprise.

“Point that thing at me like you want me dead, Boston. Come on, ain’t nothin’ you’ve never done before,” she teased.

Sophie shook her head as she looked between the gun and Margo. “I…I didn’t want you dead, I just—“

“Well, you had your finger on the trigger when you had it in my face, so that tells me ya did,” Margo smirked and crossed the small bit of space between them, grabbing the gun and placing it in Sophie’s hand and raising her arm for her until the gun was aimed at her chest.

Sophie was trembling— unsure if it was from fear, adrenaline, or just a reaction to how delicately Margo was handling her. Regardless, she was nervous as hell standing in the middle of an abandoned farm with Graham’s gun aimed at the woman she met less than a week ago.

“Good. See that little lever there? That’s the slide lock. Pull that down with your thumb,” the brunette instructed softly, moving back a few steps as Sophie cocked the pistol with a click, “Now…put your finger on the trigger.”

“A-are you insane?”

“The gun ain’t loaded, Sophie.”

The younger woman licked her dry lips and raised her finger to the trigger, feeling like her legs were going to give out. This was crazy. What if she was wrong and the gun actually did have a bullet or two left in it? What if Margo slipped one into the chamber and this was some crazy suicide scheme made to look like an accidental homocide?

“Now pull.”

Sophie hesitated with her shaking finger on the trigger, feeling like she was going to black out at any minute. Suddenly, she was back in Cambridge, standing in the darkened foyer of her house with the same gun to her own head. She remembered Graham’s grey eyes were nearly black as he stared her down with his finger on the trigger. He was going to kill her that night. Sophie remembered hearing the ominous slow click of the slide lock through the thrumming her rapid heartbeat in her ears. She doesn’t remember how she got the gun. Graham was drunk, that was her only advantage. It all blurred together. A struggle, a bang, a thud, and then…silence.

“You okay there, girlie?”

Sophie didn’t realize that she had tears on her cheeks until she came crashing back to the present. Margo was still standing there, with 100% trust that Sophie couldn’t (and wouldn’t) hurt her. Another tear slid down as she straightened her back and held the gun tighter, aiming the gun at Margo with her heart pounding in her ears just like that night. But this time when she pulled the trigger, there was no bang, there was no thud. There wasn’t even silence, since after the quiet (and admittedly anticlimactic) click of the empty firearm, Margo was praising her again as if she hadn’t just technically fired a gun at her.

Another tear fell as she released the deep breath that had been trapped in her chest, lowering her arm and dropping the gun to the unkempt grass under her feet. Her vision was tunneling again, and she couldn’t hear a word Margo was saying.

“Whoa, easy there, Annie Oakley,” the taller woman came over to hold Sophie up from where her legs were getting ready to give out. “Just breathe,” Margo said softly, letting Sophie lean against her. The fact that her heart was beating at a normal rate was insane to Sophie. How could Margo be so calm all the time?

“Sorry,” Sophie pulled back to wipe her cheeks with a few sniffles, trying not to fall back into Margo’s warm and comforting embrace.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m proud’a you,” she chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Sophie’s head that had the shorter woman feeling weak in the knees all over again.

Sophie gave up and melted into her touch once more, breathing in the perfume that was becoming a security blanket for her. “Can we, um…can we take a break? I know that was like, nothing, but it was still…a lot,” she pulled back again, this time completely— putting a bit of distance between herself and Margo.

“Course. No offense, darlin’, but I ain’t lettin’ you hold a loaded gun ‘til you get comfortable just pullin’ the trigger with an empty chamber,” Margo closed the gap between them again and pulled her into another hug. Sophie let herself linger this time. She kept her arms wrapped around Margo and her face buried in her shoulder, feeling the heat of her sun-kissed skin on her cheek.

Margo kept her close for a few moments, holding her tightly until she began to calm down enough to stop quivering so much. The warmth of the arms around her was lost, but Sophie felt heat flow through her veins when Margo plucked the cowgirl hat from her own head and placed it on hers.

“How ‘bout some more drivin’ practice instead?”

Sophie just released a hearty, much needed breath of laughter and nodded as Margo swiped the last tear stain from her cheek for her. She wasn’t used to anyone being this gentle or patient with her. “I like that idea.”

Chapter Text

Paladin, Paladin, where do you roam?
Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home

Sophie hummed along with the song that was playing through the radio, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. It was on a mixtape that Margo had stashed away in the glove box. While it wasn’t her favorite style of music (nor Margo’s, she’d learned), it meant a lot to her after last night when Margo had used it to soothe her back to sleep. And something about it being Kyle’s favorite song when they were kids made it feel more special in a way— like it was a little detailed piece of Margo’s puzzle that she had been slowly piecing together.

“I could get used to this,” Margo smirked with half a twizzler hanging out of her mouth. She had her feet propped up on the dashboard as she leaned back in her seat and filed her nails. Sophie wasn’t 100% confident behind the wheel yet, but Margo seemed to have confidence in her considering she’d made herself comfortable in the passenger seat.

“What?”

”Lettin’ you drive,” playful blue eyes glanced in her direction as she chewed on the licorice stick, “I might just let you take us the rest of the way to California.”

Sophie just rolled her eyes and laughed. “That’s a great idea if you have a death wish. I’m only doing well right now because we’ve been cruising at 60 for twenty miles.”

“Nah, I think you’ve got it,” Margo poked her arm gently with her nail file, “I taught you well.”

The younger woman just blushed, keeping her hands on the wheel as she stared ahead at the open road.

Clouds had started to roll in over the course of the day, giving their little slice of Oklahoma a break from the blistering hot sun. Sometimes Sophie still couldn’t believe how much things had changed over the last few days. She didn’t know where she would be now if she and Margo hadn’t crossed paths, but she knew for sure that she wouldn’t be driving a stick shift down Route 66.

“How come you trust me not to completely wreck your truck?” Sophie looked over at her with curious eyes and an enamored smile.

Margo shrugged, still looking at her nails, “I dunno. Haven’t really thought about why or how, I just do.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Sophie thought about what that meant. She and Margo were so different. For starters, if the roles were reversed, Sophie would never have picked up a hitchhiker in the first place, let alone let them drive her car, even if they knew how. From what she had learned about her so far, Margo had such a rough upbringing. She should have every reason not to trust a soul. And yet, here she was with her feet kicked up, letting Sophie drive her truck, use her gun, and sleep in her bed. How was it that someone who was so used to getting the short end of the stick believed in the kindness of strangers?

“You left your bag in the room this mornin’ when you slipped out. How come you trusted me not to rob you blind?” Margo asked quietly. It felt rhetorical; Like she only asked to get Sophie to self-reflect and realize that Margo didn’t need a reason to trust her. She just did. Just like Sophie hadn’t even realized that she left her backpack in the room this morning. It hadn’t even crossed her mind until after the fact. She trusted Margo, and Margo trusted her, and Sophie was beginning to realize that she didn’t need a reason.

Small sprinkles of rain began to dot the windshield as the clouds darkened overhead. Margo reached over to turn the wipers on for her as the rain quickly picked up and began to obstruct Sophie’s view.

“Jesus, where’d this weather come from?” Margo took her feet down from the dash and cranked the lever on the door to roll her window up, “You still all right to drive, sug?”

“Yeah, it’s not that bad,” Sophie nodded, gripping the wheel a bit tighter as she continued to cruise down the road. Thankfully there weren’t many other cars out here with them, so the only potential bad driver she had to worry about was herself.

Rain began to beat down heavily on the truck as the storm rolled in. Thankfully Margo had put a tarp over the truck bed this morning to protect their luggage from the sun.

“Okay, I’m getting a little nervous now,” she breathed a tense laugh, white-knuckling the steering wheel to at least feel like she had full control of the truck after a strong gust of wind swerved them to the side.

Margo placed a hand on her shoulder, sitting up a bit straighter so she could be Sophie’s second set of eyes on the road. “You’re doin’ fine. We’ll take the next exit and wait out the storm somewhere.”

Sophie would’ve found more comfort in that if she didn’t already know that the next exit was quite a few miles away; And from what she could see, they were driving head first into the core of the storm. The clouds ahead were much darker than the ones in the rear view mirror. “Holy shit,” she gasped, jumping slightly in her seat as a crack of thunder pierced the air at the same time as a lightning flash.

“Just keep on goin’ straight, it’s all right.” Margo’s voice even had a hint of apprehension in it, which made Sophie all the more nervous. Margo was the level-headed one between them. If she was worried, then there must be a good reason.

Thunder boomed again overhead as Sophie gripped the wheel so tight she could probably pull it apart if she wanted to. The wind was getting stronger, blowing the leaves off the trees and into the quickly flooding road that she was trying not to swerve all over. Each clap of thunder had her heart rising higher and higher in her throat. Not even Margo’s hand on top of hers on the steering wheel was bringing Sophie much comfort right now.

A high pitched noise could just barely be heard over the rumble of thunder and the rain that was beginning to sound like pebbles coming down instead of raindrops.

“Shit,” Margo breathed out tensely, tightening her hand over Sophie’s trembling one.

“What the hell is that?” Sophie’s eyes darted between Margo and what she could see of the road.

“Tornado siren.” Her voice was entirely too calm.

“What?!”

“It’s gonna be fine, just keep your hands on the wheel and your foot on the gas…and do as I say,” the older woman’s voice was firm.

Sophie’s breathing was ragged and uneven. She’d seen plenty of snow and rain in Massachusetts. She’d even driven in a blizzard before, but between the noise of the sirens, the thunder, and what she now noticed was hail hammering down on them, it was safe to say that she was completely out of her comfort zone. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die,” she got out in one breath as her limbs went numb, unable to tell if she was even stepping on the gas anymore.

“We’re not gonna die, you’re so dramatic,” Margo chuckled and shook her head with a roll of her eyes

“You’re seriously laughing right now?!” Sophie yelled over the noises that surrounded them— the hail, the thunder, the wind, and the sirens.

Margo just shrugged. “Guess I am! Look, see that bridge?” she pointed into the distance where Sophie could just barely make out the outline of the overpassing road through the windshield.

“Y-yeah!”

“Head for that! You’re gonna wanna pull onto the shoulder and start slowin’ down as we get closer!” she instructed with her voice raised, sliding herself across the bench until she was flush with Sophie’s side. The blonde did as she was told and veered the truck to the right, riding the line at the edge of the road as she eased her foot off the gas. “Don’t hit the brake just yet! This much water on the road, y’might lose traction!”

Sophie nodded as she held the wheel in a vice grip. The overpass was getting closer as she slowed down. Soon enough, they were relieved of the noise of rain and hail on the metal roof as Sophie parked the truck under the bridge. “Holy fuck,” she panted, bringing her hands up to her face.

“Holy fuck is right. Come on!” Margo tugged on her arm.

“Wha—“ Sophie cut her own question off when she looked ahead, spotting the tornado in the not-so-far distance. ”Margo, what are you doing?!” she yelled at the brunette who was dragging her out of the truck by her hand.

“Just follow me!” Margo yelled back, brushing brown hair from where the heavy wind was blowing it into her face. She held tight to Sophie’s hand, but the blonde had her other on the door handle. “Sophie, let’s go!”

“I need my backpack!” her desperate cry was muffled by the noises of the storm, shielding her face from the flying leaves and debris.

“Just leave it!”

“I can’t!”

“God dammit, Sophie, let go of the door! Your backpack ain’t gonna do shit for you if you get swept up in a fuckin’ twister, now come on!” Margo’s eyes were steely and intense as they stared down at her, still desperately trying to tug her along towards the concrete hill on the side of the overpass. The wind was only getting worse and Margo knew what would happen if they didn’t hunker down. “Sophie, please!” she begged, tugging on her arm again when the tornado drew closer.

Tears of fear welled up in Sophie’s eyes as she looked back at the truck. What was she going to do if something happened to her stuff? All she had left for money was stuffed in that bag. She wouldn’t survive on her own without it. With her eyes tightly closed, she made her decision by slamming the truck door shut and letting Margo pull her to safety. The incline was much steeper than it looked, and the whipping wind wasn’t making it any easier to climb. A few large pieces of wooden debris and a sheet of metal flew by, colliding with the telephone wires. Sophie could see the electrical sparks falling like rain from the corner of her eye as they approached the top of the hill.

“Come on, up here,” Margo pulled her up, using a metal beam from under the bridge as leverage. Sophie held onto her arm so tightly that she may have accidentally drawn blood. On what they had of the small ledge at the top, Margo kept her close with one arm around her waist and held tightly to the beam with the other.

“Margo—“ the blonde shrieked as violent thunder shook the ground below them, pressing herself impossibly closer to the older woman. “What do we do?!”

“Just hang on!”

Sophie looked to her side and saw the tornado, bigger and closer this time. The truck slid across the ground and one corner of the tied down tarp had come loose just from the brutal force of the wind. She couldn’t bear to see the truck get swept away in the storm. Not only for the sake of her own things, but for Margo’s as well. She watched the tires slide against the wet pavement before burying her face in the damp crook of Margo’s neck, clenching her fists in the navy blue cotton of her dress. Nails raked through her hair and words of comfort were whispered in her ear, not that Sophie could hear much over the storm.

She could feel Margo’s body shivering against hers. She couldn’t erase the desperation in her voice and eyes from her mind as she begged for Sophie to follow her just minutes ago. She’d never seen Margo scared before. Even when she’d held a gun to her face, she didn’t even flinch— and now the woman who walked around like she owned the earth was trembling in fear and Sophie couldn’t tell who was holding onto the other tighter.

Soon, the elements began to calm down. The thunder became less frequent, the rain became lighter, and the wind slowed to a strong breeze. The distant storm sirens had stopped and were replaced by the sirens of fire trucks and ambulances driving around to help anyone who had gotten caught in the sudden, unexpected natural disaster.

Sophie could barely control her breathing when she got the bravery to pull back from her hiding spot in Margo’s neck. Every quivering breath she took was strained and labored.

“We’re okay. Are you okay?” the brunette panted. She released her hold on the metal beam and cradled Sophie’s face instead; intense blue eyes scouring her face for any signs of hurt.

Sophie just nodded, unable to find the words as she struggled for breath. Before she could even begin to try to process her own feelings, she closed the gap between them, crashing her lips to Margo’s almost desperately. Warm, strong hands trembled at the sides of her face, but held her close regardless. Sophie could taste salty tears on Margo’s lips, making her heart clench in her chest as she pressed herself closer with a whimper from the back of her throat.

Her lungs were already burning from gasping for air. When the wind was whipping around them, any breath through her nose or mouth would probably have ended with her choking on debris. But now, she found her breath stolen by something much more frightening— much more dangerous.

“I-I’m sorry,” Sophie pulled back with a pitchy gasp, unable to meet Margo’s eyes. In the proximity, she could taste the last cigarette Margo smoked on her breath. And as much as she willed herself to pull herself away, she couldn’t even bring herself to tear her eyes from Margo’s lips, let alone let go of her or put a distance between them. “I’m so sorry,” she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head frantically, but warm palms at the sides of her face held her still. Her heart was in her throat, she couldn’t even bring herself to open her eyes again.

But Margo’s lips were on hers once more, leaving her in a tangled web of confusion, desire, and relief. Gentle thumbs traced the apples of her cheeks as the adrenaline-fueled kiss deepened, and Sophie did everything in her power to just lose herself in it rather than wonder what was going to happen now.

Curled up in the bed of the next motel, Sophie swallowed thickly as she listened for Margo. The brunette had broken their typical nightly routine by showering right after her, needing to remove the dirt and grime that had covered her skin when they got caught in the storm. Sophie was grateful for the extra time alone, though. It was hard to think with Margo around, and she had a lot on her mind.

Things were…back to normal. They were on the road, eating McDonalds in the truck over casual conversation, and had lied their way into another single occupancy motel room. That kiss under the overpass may as well have not even happened. With how little Margo seemed to be fazed, Sophie couldn’t help but wonder if it actually had happened. The phantom electric tingle in her lips and fingers was the only proof she had that it happened at all. But by the time they had gotten the truck out of the mud on the side of the road where it ended up, the kiss seemed to be long-forgotten. At least by Margo.

The older woman had turned the shower off in the next room. Sophie listened to her shuffling around the bathroom as she got ready for bed, lying on her side facing the old radiator on the wall. She willed herself to just close her eyes and sleep; she was exhausted after everything that had happened today, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes.

Her body tensed when the bathroom door creaked open. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to say to Margo, or if she should even bring up the kiss that had been replaying in her mind all night. She didn’t know what would hurt more: Margo not enjoying it or Margo not even remembering it. Either way, it made Sophie sick to her stomach to think about.

The bed dipped beside her just before the small lamp was turned off, leaving them alone in the darkened silence. The hair on the back of Sophie’s neck stood up as she felt Margo make herself comfortable on the old mattress behind her. She was prepared to just lie here all night with Margo’s calf pressed lightly to hers like she usually did, but an arm snaked under her own, settling comfortably around her waist as Margo pressed herself to Sophie’s back.

“This okay?” was whispered in her ear after Margo sighed deeply against the back of her neck.

“Mmhm,” the blonde nodded, swallowing the thick lump in her throat. Despite how tense she felt and how quickly her thoughts were swirling around in her mind, Sophie melted into her, feeling her body turn into warm jelly in Margo’s embrace. An airy sigh of content escaped her lips as she boldly reached for Margo’s hand, lacing her fingers with hers where they lay over her stomach.

Margo’s lips pressed to the back of her neck in a slow kiss, pulling a small, involuntary whimper from the younger woman. “Night, sweet girl,” Margo whispered, curling her lips into a smile on the back of Sophie’s neck and tightening her hold on her fingers.

Sophie’s heart was audibly beating in her chest. She wanted, so badly, to turn over in her arms and kiss her senseless. The very idea made her gut clench delightfully, but she feared the conversation that they still needed to have. Anything else might complicate things further.

“Night,” she whispered back, allowing herself to enjoy being in Margo’s arms and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Chapter Text

“So then, I said to her l am Margo fucking Banks. I don’t need protection. Like, the nerve of this fuckin’ bitch—“

Margo’s voice was barely registering in Sophie’s mind as Margo told a story about some woman she used to be friends with. The sun was back out today, beating down on them once again. The heat wasn’t helping Sophie’s mood at all. She didn’t sleep very well despite the fact that it was one of the most physically comfortable sleeps she’d ever had. Unfortunately, her brain was too busy buzzing for her to rest easily. Even with Margo wrapped around her like a blanket, she dozed in and out of sleep all night. By the time she’d finally relaxed enough to sleep soundly, it was cut short by the sound of a knock on the door, alerting them that check out was in a half hour.

There was barely enough time in those thirty minutes for them to even say good morning to each other, let alone sit down and have a chat about the kiss that was ruining Sophie’s sleep. They were hastily packed and loaded up into the truck just before their deadline, but the stress of rushing had put a damper on the morning. Especially since it all happened before either of them could get a drop of coffee in.

Margo asked if Sophie wanted anything to eat and the blonde just shook her head, getting as comfortable as she could in the passenger seat of the truck in hopes that she could squeeze a nap in before they reached their next stop. Thankfully Margo let her try to rest at first. She just sipped at her drive-thru coffee and kept the radio at a reasonable volume. But after an hour, Sophie gave up on trying to sleep.

Somehow in her attempt to subtly slip in a conversation about yesterday, they had ended up on a completely different topic. Margo spoke animatedly about the wild times she had in her early 20s: the friends she had, the guys she fooled around with, and the seemingly endless juvenile trouble she got herself into after she dropped out of high school.

Sophie felt bad for barely paying attention, but her head hurt, her eyes were tired, and her brain just wouldn’t stop tormenting her. She watched out the window as they passed billboard after billboard for roadside attractions, squinting in the sunlight with her forehead against the window, trying to keep her nerves under control as Margo continued to speak as if everything was normal.

“Can we stop somewhere?” she asked, not even realizing that she had interrupted a story about a woman named Taylor who she got banned from a Piggly Wiggly with when they were sixteen.

“Sure. Somethin’ wrong?” Margo asked, keeping her eyes on the road, flicking the turn signal to take the exit that was coming up.

We kissed yesterday and I can’t stop thinking about it, but it doesn’t seem like it’s affected you at all.

“No, I just…I’m starting to get hungry,” she lied. Food was the last thing on her mind right now.

Margo just nodded as she took the exit. “Okay. We could use some gas anyway. You hungry for food food, or will gas station snacks tide you over for now?”

“That’s fine,” she faked a smile, hoping that the older woman couldn’t see right through it.

After Margo pulled into the gas station and parked at a pump, Sophie hiked her backpack up onto her shoulders and followed her into the little convenience store. The older woman surveyed the building as they entered, stopping Sophie from heading towards the snacks with a hand in the crook of her elbow.

“What—“

“Listen to me,” she whispered, linking their arms together before starting an inconspicuous walk down the first aisle, “I’m gonna go pay for the gas and talk to the guy up at the register— keep him distracted while you grab some snacks.”

“Why don’t you just help me pick stuff out now and we can pay for it all tog—“ Sophie watched the way Margo’s eyes bored into hers, like she was trying to communicate telepathically. It took a moment, but she finally realized what role she was playing in her plan. “Oh. No, I-I can’t…”

“Yes you can, it’s not hard,” Margo kept her voice low, raking her fingers over the rack of magazines and stuffing one under the waistband of Sophie’s shorts with a quiet laugh, pulling her t-shirt down to cover it.

Sophie’s face turned beet red just from the idea of getting caught. “Margo, seriously, I can’t. Why can’t I go pay for the gas and you…do this?” she hissed, taking the magazine out from under her shirt as Margo used her height to her advantage, looking around over the shelves to make sure they weren’t being watched.

“Cause the guy runnin’ this place isn’t a horny teenager or some old timer who can barely walk. You prepared to distract someone who probably knows exactly what you’re doin’?”

Sophie’s mouth opened and closed as she kept trying to find a response. But in the end, she had no argument.

“That’s what I thought. Go on, I believe in ya.” Margo waved her off and started to walk off in the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you at the truck!” she called out loud for the cashier to hear this time.

Angry tears stung at the brim of Sophie’s eyelids as she watched Margo walk off. The fact that she wanted to hate her at this moment wasn’t doing her headache and racing thoughts any favors. She shoved the magazine back into her shorts and wiped at her tired eyes. She could hear Margo talking to the cashier in that sultry tone she seemed to always use to get her way with men. She heard her mention something about how Sophie needed to stop to use the restroom before they continued on their journey to visit some sick grandmother in New Mexico. She swallowed hard and glanced around the aisle, wondering if Margo would notice if she just slipped out with nothing, but it scared her to think of what Margo would think of her if she did that. She already chickened out of learning to use a gun yesterday. Margo was going to leave her behind if she couldn’t keep up with her.

She shook the thought from her head and grabbed two glass bottles of coke from the cooler, biting down hard on her lip when she slid each one into the back pockets of her shorts when she saw no one around. She was still in the long t-shirt she wore to bed last night, so the fabric was long enough to cover them, at least. She peeked around the corner, watching Margo lean over the counter on her elbows to talk to the man behind the counter. While she had him distracted, she reached for a bag of chips, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried her hardest not to let the bag crinkle in her hand as she slowly slipped it up her shirt. She was succeeding so far. Hopefully this would suffice for Margo’s approval. She stepped carefully down the aisle back towards the door, holding the bag of chips under her shirt to her stomach to make it look like she had a stomachache.

“You all right?” Margo asked with concern in her tone when she passed by the counter. “Poor thing, she gets so car sick on long drives,” she pouted in the cashier’s direction, still batting her eyelashes at him.

“I’m fine. I just—“ Sophie lost the words mid-sentence when she turned to face them and felt her backpack nudge the neck of one of the bottles out of her pocket, sending it crashing to the floor. She was already on edge, but the noise startled her so much that she lost her grip on the bag of chips under her shirt, causing them to slip out and fall to the floor as well. “Shit.”

“Hey!”

“Run!” Margo squealed, grabbing Sophie and making a run for the door.

Sophie nearly lost her footing trying to keep up, but before she knew it they were back in the truck, burning rubber with their quick escape out of the parking lot. Sophie removed the magazine and the other bottle from her shorts and dropped them to the floor by her feet, panting into her palms as she struggled to catch her breath. Margo, on the other hand, was laughing hysterically.

“Dude! That wasn’t funny!” Sophie looked at her incredulously.

“Oh, honey, yes it was,” Margo practically cackled beside her.

“What if he had called the cops? Or what if he caught up to us?”

“Well, he didn’t,” she shrugged, “So much for gettin’ snacks. Guess we could try to find a Whataburger around here somewhere.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Sophie shook her head and glanced out the window.

“Oh come on, Sister Sophie,” Margo teased, reaching over to poke her arm with a polished fingernail.

Her face burned. “Stop calling me that!”

“Jesus, relax. I’m just playin’ with you.”

“Well, maybe I don’t like being played with,” Sophie snapped, “I’m not a toy. I have…feelings.”

Margo was quiet as she glanced between the road and her passenger. Sophie’s jaw was tense and her face was flushed. She was like an overfilled balloon getting ready to pop at any moment. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t’ve pressured you into doin’ that.”

Sophie just glared ahead, biting her tongue. Did Margo seriously think that she was this worked up over being peer pressured into shoplifting? She wished that was all she was upset about. That would make living in her own head so much easier, but it was just the tipping point. “It’s fine,” she mumbled, curling up in her seat with her knees up and her head against the window again, “I’m not hungry anymore.” She closed her eyes and released a deep breath that had been sitting low in her chest. This would have to blow over. If Margo wanted to forget that yesterday ever happened, then so be it. She’d forget about it too; Or at least she would try to for now while she tried to get some sleep. However, a loud crumbling crunch broke her from her attempted slumber.

“Fuckin’ shit,” Margo groaned, pulling on the steering wheel to veer the truck onto the shoulder, seemingly more frustrated than scared.

“What the hell was that?”

“Guess we got a flat tire,” the brunette sighed, parking on the grassy roadside.

Sophie sat up a little straighter, forgetting her anger in her moment of concern. They got out of the truck, each inspecting the tires on each side.

“Found it,” Margo called from the driver’s side, already going around to the tailgate to get the tools she needed.

“Should we find a payphone and call a tow truck?”

“You’re killin’ me, Boston.”

Brows knot together at Margo’s condescending chuckling. “Huh?” she tried not

The brunette just shook her head with a small smile as she pulled a few things from the trunk, dropping them to the ground beside the flat tire before beckoning Sophie over with her hands on her hips. “Come on,” she tilted her head, “Life lesson. Today you’re learnin’ how to change a tire.”

“Why? I don’t drive or have a car.”

“Because, Sophie, someday you might find yourself in a situation where you’re gonna wish you knew how. So put your big girl panties on and get over here.”

Sophie stood by the truck with her arms crossed over her chest. It took all the energy she had to be civil and put her frustration aside so she could just be helpful. The sooner they got the tire fixed, the sooner they could keep moving. She knelt across from Margo on the ground, watching silently as she loosened the lugnuts. The inside of her cheek was getting chewed raw when Margo’s muscles flexed with each pull of the wrench. The combination of the brutal southern sun and the effort it took to loosen the wheel was causing beads of sweat to form on her forehead and her exposed collarbones, leaving the blonde lightheaded and unable to process any of the instructions Margo was feeding her.

“Now we gotta raise the truck. Tire’s underneath, but most cars’ll have the spare under the trunk,” Margo explained to the dazed blonde, putting the jack in place and sitting back after doing the first few spins of the jack. “Go on,” she nodded towards the flat.

Sophie looked between her and the tire, sighing as she moved closer and grabbed the crank. She struggled with a quiet grunt, feeling the blisters already forming on her palms from the tight grip.

“That’s my girl, you got it,” Margo grinned when the effort Sophie was putting in began to pay off.

“I’m not your girl,” slipped from the younger woman’s lips before Sophie could even realize she was saying it. She couldn’t bring herself to look in Margo’s direction, but she could see her wiping her palms on her jeans in her peripheral vision.

“All right, then. Might as well put your pissy mood to good use. What’s on your mind?”

“What?”

“You’re obviously pissed about somethin’. Rage makes you stronger, so…use it. Let’s hear it.”

Sophie just strained with the crank, pressing her lips into a tight line, wondering if it was worth spilling her guts. Problem is, she still hadn’t made 100% sense of her own feelings to herself. She just shook her head, pulling her hands back like she’d been shocked when Margo’s hands came towards hers when the truck was lifted. She watched the woman disappear under the truck to get the spire tire. “It’s nothing, I’m just tired,” she muttered, feeling a bit more comfortable speaking now that she wasn’t under Margo’s icy blue stare.

“Just cause I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you’re lyin’ to me,” Margo’s voice came from under the truck, “This got somethin’ to do with yesterday?”

Sophie kept her mouth shut, biting her lip. Since Margo was out of sight, she would have to admit it out loud. Now she wished that Margo wasn’t under the truck so she could just read her mind like always.

“It was just a kiss, Sophie. We just narrowly avoided a tornado…adrenaline was high, y’know?” the brunette sighed from under the truck as she obtained the spare tire, causing Sophie’s heart to clutch painfully in her chest and her eyes well up with hurt tears.

She didn’t know why she was so upset. Margo was right, it was just an adrenaline-fueled kiss. It didn’t mean anything. So why did she feel like she’d just been kicked in the gut?

Margo came out from under the truck with the spare tire after a few moments of silence between them, “Let’s just get this done so we can keep movin’, okay?” She wiped the sweat from her brow and set the tire aside to remove the flat one from the truck, seemingly avoiding Sophie’s eyes.

Sophie just sat there uselessly and watched, feeling her head pound and her stomach churn from all the swirling, conflicting emotions inside her. She was heartbroken that the kiss that had been tearing her apart inside since yesterday was apparently just a meaningless, spur-of-the-moment thing for Margo; And knowing now how differently they felt about it, Sophie couldn’t help but feel humiliated. On top of that and her exhaustion, she couldn’t even deny the foreign arousal that sat in the pit of her gut from watching Margo change the truck’s tire. She swiped a fallen tear from her cheek and glanced down the road at the oncoming cars, wishing one would just ram right into them and end her misery.

Get a grip, Sophie.

She sat frozen across from the older woman as she skillfully changed the tire by herself, working up a sweat that she kept wiping on the loose fabric of her tank top. Soon enough, the lugnuts were tightened, the truck was lowered, and Margo was back on her feet, kicking the flat tire into the grassy roadside ditch and putting the tools back into the truck bed. Sophie was still knelt beside the truck, deep in thought. “Come on, honey. We’ll stop somewhere and get a new tire on the way to Amarillo.”

Sophie took the hand that was extended to her to help her up, hating that she still found comfort in Margo’s touch. That just made things harder. She rounded the truck and got into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt slowly. “I…” she started, unsure of how to word what she wanted to say, “I think…I think you should drop me off in Amarillo.”

“What?”

“I’ll help pay for the new tire, but…I think I need to keep going on my own,” she winced. She hated that it was coming out of her mouth at all, but even more so when it was fueled by silly, juvenile emotions that she didn’t know how to process.

“Sophie…” Margo’s voice was filled with concern as she reached over to rest a hand on her knee, but Sophie swatted it away gently, turning away from her to stare tearfully out the window. Margo remained quiet as she looked at the blonde beside her that had started chewing on her thumb nail. “You sure that’s what you want?”

Sophie hesitated before nodding silently, still keeping her eyes on the thicket of trees beside the road. Her already broken heart shattered a little more when Margo revved the truck to life and peeled off the shoulder without a fight. According to the first sign they passed, it was thirty miles to Amarillo. Thirty miles. At a mile a minute on the highway, that gave Sophie thirty minutes to decide where she would go from here and try to remember how to survive without Margo Banks at her side.

Chapter Text

Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five, seventy-six.

Sophie sat in the corner of the small waiting room in the mechanic’s garage, silently counting the hundred dollar bills she had stuffed at the bottom of her canvas backpack. Along with some smaller bills and spare change, she inhaled deeply at the fact that she’d already gone through over $300 in the last few days of splitting expenses with Margo. Between motel stays, food, and gas, it went by so quickly. And she still had to pay her half of the new tire for the truck, even though Margo insisted that she didn’t have to.

Part of her wished that the process would hurry up so she could keep going west and move on— with her experience with Margo in the rear view. She was so tired of feeling confused. It felt silly to say so, but the confusion was bringing out so many other negative emotions that part of her would rather just go back to being scared all the time by herself. Wandering the roadside and finding rides from here to there was so exhausting but so much less complicated than staying with Margo.

When the brunette had asked her if this is what she wanted— to go their separate ways once the tire was fixed— her true and honest answer was ‘no’. Sophie didn’t want to say goodbye to the most exciting and fun person she’d ever met. She didn’t want to surrender the feeling of freedom and safety that she felt with her. But she knew she had to. It would be better this way, as much as it hurt.

“Hey. Truck’s all ready to go,” Margo appeared in the doorway with a solemn smile on her face, going back to the front desk when Sophie just nodded and picked up her stuff to follow her. They hadn’t spoken much since Margo had replaced the flat tire with a spare. Even when they arrived at the mechanic in Amarillo, Sophie just took her belongings from the truck bed and made herself comfortable in the waiting room without a word.

“Between the tire, the oil change, and labor, it’s gonna be $125,” the man behind the counter plugged into the register, his mustache twitching as he smiled at the two women. Sophie immediately handed him a $100 bill, wordlessly glancing up at Margo for a split second and hoping she wouldn’t argue. Thankfully after a beat, the brunette just took her wallet from her snakeskin purse and handed him the remaining $25 in cash. The air between them was tense, and Sophie could feel bile rising in her throat as the seconds to goodbye ticked closer.

“You ladies have a safe rest of your trip,” the mechanic handed Margo a small receipt, not knowing that this was the end of said trip. According to their plan, Margo was going to drop Sophie off at the Walmart down the street and that would be it.

They wordlessly got into the truck once they got the keys back. The few minutes it took to drive to the store felt like hours when all Sophie could focus on was the thick tension between her and the older woman. It sat heavily on her chest, but she played it as cool as she could. Margo certainly wasn’t showing any vulnerability. She didn’t exactly seem thrilled with this wrench in their plans, but she wasn’t crying on her knees, begging Sophie to stay with her either.

With the hazard lights blinking, Margo pulled off to the side of the road in front of the entrance. ”Y’want any help?” she asked quietly, seemingly emotionless behind her sparkly sunglasses.

“I’ve got it. Thanks for, um…y’know…getting me this far.” Sophie unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face the brunette beside her. At least a small smile curled up on Margo’s face. “It was really nice to meet you, Margo.”

“Likewise, Sophie. Just be careful out there. Not everyone’s as nice as me.”

A blush covered her cheeks as she nodded, biting her lip to stop the smile that threatened to show.

“And you remember what I said about that smile,” Margo reached across to pull her pink lip from between her teeth with her thumb.

Electricity buzzed where her hand cradled Sophie’s chin, sending chills up and down the younger woman’s spine. This was her chance to back out— to admit that she was stupid and wanted to keep going west with her. She wanted to tell her that the last few days had been the most fun she’d had in her whole life and that she didn’t want it to end, even when they reached the coast. She would live out the rest of her days in this truck if it meant getting to stay with Margo. But for once, she let her head take the reins instead of her heart. Logically, she knew that things would turn disastrous between them if they kept going together. Margo’s aloofness didn’t mesh well with Sophie’s chronic overthinking. Sometimes they balanced each other out, but in this situation— with Sophie questioning herself and Margo not seeming to care one way or the other, Sophie knew she wouldn’t survive it. It was painful enough now after less than a week together. She didn’t want to know how badly she would feel weeks, months, even years down the line.

Come back to the present. You’re getting way too ahead of yourself.

Clearing her throat, Sophie slowly turned her head to remove her chin from Margo’s soft, lingering grip. “I’m just, uh…gonna get my stuff,” she thumbed towards the truck bed and climbed out to get her suitcase. Part of her hoped to feel Margo’s hand on her shoulder to stop her, but the older woman remained in the front seat, just checking her makeup in the visor mirror from what Sophie could see from the small window behind the bench. In the final few seconds before she collected her backpack from the front, she prayed to any higher power that Margo would say something. Anything but goodbye. She shut the door, staring at Margo through the open window just as she had when they met on the other side of Texas.

“Well…Maybe we’ll run into each other in Cali.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Sophie nodded, shifting from foot to foot under Margo’s unrelenting stare. Even through her sunglasses, Sophie could feel her eyes burning holes in her skin.

Whatever god decided to listen to her prayer sure had a sense of humor. Margo didn’t say ‘goodbye’, so Sophie got her wish. “See ya ‘round, Boston,” was the last she heard before the truck slowly began to drive away.

As she stood on the curb and watched the red truck disappear, Sophie felt like all the warmth in her body had been drained out. Despite the hot summer sun, she felt cold. Ice ran through her veins as she wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, she took a deep breath and just turned on her heel to go inside, trying her hardest to only think of where to go from here.

Sitting in a corner booth in the little Walmart cafe, Sophie sipped at her soda and picked at her small bag of chips. She’d walked around the store a few times, purchasing herself a new pair of sneakers and some more shampoo and conditioner. Until she could figure out a plan, that was all she allowed herself to buy, knowing she would be back to lugging her things around on the roadside soon enough.

She tried not to think of Margo. It was hard not to when she had become so important to her over the past week. The older woman had become her safety net. Regardless of some of her questionable morals, she was generous and kind and always looked out for her.

She wasn’t looking out for you when she made you rob that store today…But you know she was just doing it to help save money.

The angel and devil on her shoulders fought back and forth. She wanted to listen to the devil. It would be so much easier if she could just be angry at Margo. If she could just bring herself to hate her, she could move on with no remorse, no regrets, and no lingering feelings that made her want to spend the rest of her life in the safety of Margo’s arms. She tried to forget what it felt like to be wrapped in her embrace— tried to forget the way Margo’s nose scrunched up when she laughed, her signature scent of cigarettes and Chanel perfume. Most of all, she tried her hardest to erase the feeling of Margo Banks’s lips on hers yesterday: soft and delicate, but still intense and eager like she wanted it just as badly as Sophie did. But it was just a kiss to her; she said so herself. It meant nothing.

Except to Sophie, it meant everything. That kiss with Margo made her feel more whole and alive than any kiss she’d ever shared with Graham, even back when she actually enjoyed being around him. She never really felt much of anything when Graham kissed her. She used to tell herself that the discomfort she would get when they kissed or had sex was just butterflies in her stomach— her body’s natural reaction to even the good kind of anxiety. But she didn’t feel that discomfort with Margo. When they kissed she felt…whole. Like Margo was the puzzle piece that had been missing all her life, finally put into its place. She even saw the metaphorical stars and fireworks everyone always talked about. It felt right, rather than feeling like a task she could check off a list. Unlike with Graham, she didn’t have to convince herself that she liked it. She just did.

Fiddling with the maroon beads on her wrist, she looked down at the bracelet she hadn’t taken off since she got it. Margo hadn’t taken hers off either, she noticed, even though it clashed with everything she owned. She liked to think that that meant she meant something to Margo— even if she didn’t get the same floaty feeling when she was around her, she had to at least mean something to her as a friend. And fuck, Sophie missed her. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized that Margo had dropped her off just over five hours ago, but Sophie felt like she hadn’t seen her in ages. She missed hearing her stories, and making her laugh, and singing along to the radio in the truck. That truck was strangely enough where she felt the safest. But it was gone now. Margo was gone now. She would have to find safety in something or someone else, though it didn’t feel possible.

With a slight sniffle, she reached for her backpack, wanting to go over the booklet of maps she’d been carrying around. The sooner she started moving on, the sooner she would stop feeling like shit. She sifted through her bag and rubbed her tired eyes, knitting her eyebrows together when she pulled out a polaroid instead of her map. It was the photo Margo had taken at the farmer’s market. In the commotion before they left, Sophie had forgotten all about it and had never even seen it until now. She remembered being caught off guard and not given any time to make herself look decent for the camera, but she still managed to smile and look happy in the photo. Margo was stunning as always, no surprise there. Sophie ran her fingertip over the photo, remembering that day and how she thought Margo would leave or betray her after she told her the truth about Graham.

Once again, Sophie became the very thing she had been trying to avoid all this time. She’d held Margo at gunpoint, lied to her, stolen from her…and now she’d left her. A tear slipped from her eye and straight onto the photo as it dawned on her that despite her reasons for doing what she did, she was the monster, not Margo. And she would probably never even get the chance to apologize. Unless she popped up on the big screen somewhere, she would likely never even see Margo with her own two eyes again. She had been aware of it before, but now it felt real. Her stomach lurched as reality washed over her. Margo was gone. She kept up her end of the deal they made back at the diner last week. If Sophie asked to leave, Margo would let her go. That was what she promised. She pinky promised it.

She remembered how she felt that night that seemed like so long ago. She had been so wary of Margo and suspicious of her kindness. Little did she know at the time that the catalyst in her wanting to leave would end up being the romantic feelings she would quickly develop for her.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut as she finally admitted it to herself. She had romantic feelings for Margo. At first, it was a mild infatuation. The brunette was just so fascinating, Sophie felt like she couldn’t get enough. She was a cool, big sister type with an addicting personality. But as the days passed, the admiration had become something more— something Sophie wasn’t familiar with. The way she felt about Margo was different from anything she’d ever felt about anyone. But Sophie couldn’t like her like that. Not only was she thirteen years older than her, but…she was a woman. Even though she had her curiosities in the past, she couldn’t be with a woman.

It wasn’t that Sophie was homophobic or even raised to be that way. It just wasn’t something she had ever thought of as an option for herself. She’d known Graham since sixth grade and they started dating in their freshman year of high school. He always seemed like her only option. She was supposed to marry her high school sweetheart, have kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. That had practically been planned out for her. But somehow she ended up here instead: alone in a Walmart in Amarillo, Texas with a body count and intense feelings for a carefree woman thirteen years her senior. A woman who taught her how to drive a stick shift. A woman who made her feel safe and protected. A woman Sophie would never see again because she had been too much of a coward to be honest with her.

She tried to convince herself that it was better this way. She just couldn’t stay in Margo’s atmosphere if her feelings weren’t reciprocated. It was humiliating on its own, but she also didn’t want Margo to think she was some kind of creep; Especially not after a week of sharing a bed with her.

Wiping her eyes, she placed the photo back into her bag and plucked out her book of maps, spreading it out on the table in front of her. Though, instead of planning a route forward, Sophie found herself tracing her trip back. Back over the border into Oklahoma, down Route 66, and back down to the middle of Eastern Texas where she first met Margo. Her fingertip grazed the map— looking for the road where the older woman had picked her up— and she smiled as she traced the path they had taken from there, feeling her heart clench with the memories of each and every stop.

She rubbed her tired eyes with the heels of her palms, leaning her elbows on the table. She needed to focus and think of a plan. The store was going to close soon and she would be out on her own again. She should ask for directions to the nearest motel. She should see if there was a bus station somewhere nearby that could take her the rest of the way to California. Anything but sit here and rot in a Walmart. But that was all she had the energy for right now, and it was so hard to think straight with the noise of the bustling store all around her.

It had started raining outside at some point in the night. There was a light rumble of distant thunder and quick flashes of lightning behind the clouds. Sophie sat on a bench under the extended roof, politely (but foolishly) claiming she was fine and just waiting for her ride to the employees who were filing their way out the doors for the night. Even under the street lights in the parking lot, they could probably see how red and puffy her eyes were from crying and the sheer exhaustion of the day.

“You sure you’re okay, hon?” an older woman with red hair piled up to god asked as she finished her cigarette, stomping it out on the concrete. She had been the last one out of the store, since the locked the doors behind her before pulling up beside Sophie for a quick smoke.

Sophie just nodded with a sniffle, offering the woman— Sharlene— a smile. “I’m fine, thanks. Um…just in case, though, do you know where the nearest motel is?” she asked, hugging her backpack to her chest with her suitcase tucked between her knees.

“There’s an inn just a bit down the road that way,” she pointed a very wrinkled, but polished finger down the road. “I don’t mind droppin’ you off over there.”

“I’ll be okay. Thank you for the offer. My ride should be here soon,” the blonde shook her head with her lie. She had turned down offers left and right like an idiot, but a big part of her was too afraid to let anyone get close enough. She’d let her walls down with Margo and now she was stranded in the middle of the country. It was entirely her own fault for allowing herself to be disarmed, but she couldn’t help but worry that she would fall into the same trap all over again. She had gotten a taste of what it was like to be cared for and protected, and now she was faced with the task of going back to being completely independent.

Sophie waved goodbye to Sharlene when the woman opened an umbrella and walked to her car. Once she was left completely alone without a single car in the lot, she leaned forward against her backpack and buried her face in the dirtied canvas material. Now that she was left with no other option but to start walking, she was beginning to wish she had at least taken Sharlene up on her offer to give her a ride to the inn. She tried to take deep breaths to calm her nerves, but the summer rain mixed with the heat made the air around her feel thick. She could see stars and polka dots forming behind her eyelids as she gasped for air.

The sooner you start walking, the sooner you’ll have a bed and a hot shower.

As she brought herself to her tired feet, the sound of a car horn honking made her flinch as she looked up to see blinding headlights beaming directly at her through the rain. She just hoped that it was Sharlene deciding not to take no for an answer and coming back to drive her to the inn.

“Well, if I’d known you’d be right where I left you, I wouldn’t have driven all over the city lookin’ for you,” an ever-so-familiar, comforting southern drawl reached Sophie’s ears through the sound of falling rain as the red truck came into view.

Margo.

Chapter Text

”I think you should drop me off in Amarillo.”

”I need to keep going on my own.”

Sophie’s hurt and timid voice echoed in Margo’s mind over and over on a cruel, endless loop on the drive to Amarillo. She sounded so frail and broken when she had spoken, making the decision that Margo hoped would never have to be made. But she promised— pinky promised— that she would let Sophie go if she ever wanted to leave for any reason.

Her muscles ached from changing the tire, but she was glad that she had been taught how. She was grateful for all the people around the trailer park that looked out for her and Kyle when their mom was on a bender. Growing up in that park was like living with your whole family in one neighborhood. They had sweet older grandparent types who gave them treats when they came over and let them watch their TV. Margo had surrogate aunts and big sisters that taught her how to do her hair and nails while Kyle had older brothers and uncles that taught him how to crush a beer can on his head when he was nine. Some of them always had inappropriate thoughts and things to say about her as her body changed through puberty, but without those creeps, she wouldn’t know how to change a flat tire or fire a gun, or any of the things that had, so far, gotten her out of a lot of sticky situations.

Nothing prepared her for this, though: how to deal with saying goodbye to someone she cared for so deeply; someone who had become so important to her in such a short amount of time. She felt like she had a soul connection with Sophie, like they were destined to cross paths at some point. Unfortunately, she knew that once two lines met, they continued to separate as they kept going. She just didn’t think that their separation would be so soon.

The feisty, but timid little blonde had fallen into her lap so suddenly. Margo had only been driving from Alba for a day before she encountered her on the side of the road. Normally, she wouldn’t have even bothered to stop, but something told her to pull over and at least offer to help her out.

And god was she glad that she did.

From the moment Sophie’s tired blue eyes met hers from behind the gun she apparently didn’t even know how to use, Margo was hooked on her. She even called Kyle from a pay phone at the diner that night to let him know that she might have a guest with her when they arrived in Los Angeles. But now, ten minutes from Amarillo, she knew she would be going to LA alone.

How could she be so stupid? Sophie kissed her, and she was dumb enough to try to ignore it and brush it off because she thought it was what Sophie would want. Maybe it was what Sophie wanted, but obviously Margo had fucked up by trying to make light of all their conversations and pretend it never happened— even though it was all she could think about ever since. Whether Sophie regretted it or not, she’d made it clear that she was uncomfortable staying with Margo on the road, and Margo always kept her promises even if following through made her feel like dying inside.

Sophie didn’t say a word to her or even glance in her direction when they arrived at the little garage on the edge of the city. She just got her bags, keeping them close just like she used to, and tucked herself into a corner like a frightened animal once they got the truck checked in. Margo didn’t press or pressure her to talk, though she wished she had. From the looks of it, Sophie was done with her, keeping her distance; A stark contrast to the way she laced their fingers together and snuggled up against her last night.

“We passed a Walmart not too far back,” Margo said calmly, leaning her elbows on her knees in the chair where she sat a safe ten feet from the younger woman, “I can drop you off there if y’like.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie muttered back quietly without meeting her eyes.

This was ridiculous. She was Margo Banks, she didn’t let anyone stop her from getting her way, so why was she tip-toeing around a five foot nothing little girl from Boston like she was afraid to upset her? It was like a doberman being afraid of a kitten. But she couldn’t bring herself to wedge her way into Sophie’s space. She’d already forced her into an uncomfortable situation back at the gas station (and Sophie was still pissed about that), she didn’t want to make anything worse. She just leaned back against her chair with her leg wobbling unconsciously as she tried to focus on the news playing on the small TV in the upper corner of the wall.

Somehow, the time dragged and flew by at the same time as they waited for the mechanic to finish putting the new tire on. By some miracle, he had come into the lobby to let them know that the truck desperately needed an oil change, asking for approval to move forward with that. Margo told him to go ahead. That would buy her more time to think of what to say. She promised Sophie she could leave if she wanted to, that meant not questioning it or putting up a fight. But how was she supposed to let her go so soon, without even a discussion as to what made her want to leave in the first place? What was she supposed to say? How was she going to tell Sophie that she was willing to put it all behind them if it made her feel better? She would walk through fire for her, but it didn’t seem that Sophie was comfortable with her even being around to do so.

After an agonizing amount of time, the mechanic caught Margo on her way back to the waiting room from the bathroom, letting her know that the work was done. She nodded, frozen in place. Once she told Sophie the truck was finished, she had no more excuses to prolong dropping her off at the store down the street. She didn’t even argue when Sophie put $100 towards the bill. At this point, she just didn’t want to do anything to upset her further.

This was unbelievable. What had Sophie done to her? Margo Banks wasn’t afraid to upset anyone.

The clock was ticking down quickly as she drove them down the street. Margo cursed every green light on the way. And before she knew it, she was pulled up in front of the store’s entrance, out of time. Thank god for her sunglasses that were hiding every bit of apprehension in her eyes. She had a hell of a poker face, but her eyes always gave her away.

”Y’want any help?” she asked quietly, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling.

But Sophie shook her head, just as Margo suspected she would. “I’ve got it. Thanks for, um…y’know…getting me this far.”

Margo watched through darkened lenses as Sophie unbuckled her seatbelt. She just wanted to reach across, buckle her back in, and slam her foot on the gas, regardless of what she promised.

“It was really nice to meet you, Margo.”

She felt like her heart was being squeezed in her chest, but she just forced a small smile onto her face. “Likewise, Sophie. Just be careful out there. Not everyone’s as nice as me,” she managed to add a bit of a joking lilt to her voice, despite how she felt inside. It must have worked, since Sophie pulled her lip between her teeth in an effort to stop the grin from spreading on her face. “And you remember what I said about that smile.” She hadn’t meant to reach across the bench. It was a reflex reaction she wasn’t even aware of until it was too late. Her long fingers grazed Sophie’s jawline as her thumb gently tugged her lip from between her teeth, leaving it a deep shade of pink and slightly swollen. She wanted so badly to capture that lip between her own and kiss the younger woman senseless; Or in this case, back to her senses.

Just as she was about to speak— to try to get Sophie to change her mind— the blonde turned her head just enough to remove her chin from Margo’s tender hold with a clear of her throat before getting out of the truck to get her suitcase from the back. The brunette felt like all the air had been sucked from her lungs when she was left alone in the truck, but she willed herself to keep it together as she heard Sophie rummaging around behind her.

She had left her backpack on the floor of the passenger side and Margo knew that backpack was her last chance to see Sophie again. There was no use fighting it. She wanted to leave, so she had to let her. But she reached up to her sun visor, grabbing the polaroid photo from the farmer’s market that she had tucked away and quickly stuffed it into the backpack just before Sophie reappeared beside the truck. Margo silently begged her to stay, wanting to hear anything but goodbye. But fate had a cruel sense of humor since all she got was the sound of the door closing shut, ringing louder in her ears than a gunshot.

“Well…Maybe we’ll run into each other in Cali,” Margo got out quickly, putting that last shred of desperation in her voice in hopes that Sophie would catch on.

But Sophie just nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Her vision was blurring with unshed tears as Sophie drove the final nail into the coffin, relinquishing any hope Margo had for a different outcome. “See ya ‘round, Boston,” she sighed, taking one last glance at the beautiful blonde as her boot slowly hit the gas. She tried not to look in the rearview mirror, but even from hundreds of feet behind her, Sophie was magnetic. She watched her get smaller and smaller in the mirror’s reflection as she drove away, eventually finding herself so far that she was out of sight.

Once she reached the main road, Margo jutted off to the shoulder, leaving a cloud of dust around the truck as she slammed it into park. She tore her sunglasses off and pressed the heels of the palms tightly to her eyes, not caring about her eyeliner and mascara getting messed up. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she demanded of herself, pressing tighter against her eyes to stop any tears from falling. She hadn’t cried since she dropped Kyle off at the bus station in Dallas after he’d been offered a job in California. That was years ago. How did this random woman that she barely knew have the power to make her cry?

She gave up on trying to stop the inevitable break in the dam and gripped the steering wheel as she broke down. Her body shook with heavy sobs. Her makeup was likely streaking down her face by now, but for once, she didn’t care. As of right now, nothing mattered to her anymore. She felt so pathetic. She never let anyone get too close to her for this exact reason. Everyone always found their way out of her life and she was tired of having her heart broken. Something about Sophie made Margo think that she would be an exception, despite the fact that she was just giving her a ride to California. The whole plan was that they would go their separate ways eventually, but she never expected that this would happen— that their already short time together would get cut even shorter.

She sat in the truck on the side of the road for what felt like forever, just letting out years worth of tears and emotion all in one go. Part of her wanted to turn around and go back to Alba, not even wanting to reach California without Sophie.

“Get your shit together, Mandy,” she hissed to herself, pulling down the visor again to wipe the makeup stains from her face and clear the smudges from under her eyes. Part of her regretted giving Sophie the polaroid. It was the only tangible evidence she had that she had even come into her life. Though, the baby blue polymer clay beads on her wrist proved otherwise. Sophie had been here with her. Why else would she be wearing such a gaudy color that didn’t match a single thing she owned? The bracelet was all she had left of her, and she didn’t know if keeping the reminder of her around was a good idea.

Wiping her cheeks once more, Margo straightened up and pulled herself back together. This was not as serious as she was making it out to be in her head. This was just her own exhaustion putting her emotions on overdrive. Once she got a good night’s sleep, she could forget all about Sophie and continue the drive she intended to finish days ago. But until she could get that good night’s sleep, forgetting about her was going to be difficult. And she was terrified that it would still be difficult after.

As she drove west, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back over the last few days. She’d give anything to go back to singing Dolly Parton’s greatest hits with Sophie in the passenger seat, laughing at each other's stories, and falling asleep side by side. She never mentioned it to her, but Sophie talked in her sleep. It was usually nonsense, but Margo got a kick out of it. Some nights, it made her not even want to go back to sleep so she could listen to her voice and watch her nose twitch. She’d never forget the way her heart leapt to her throat when Sophie hummed her name in her sleep the morning after she had a nightmare. It was right before Margo had been planning on getting up for the day, but that one breathy murmur of her name kept her wrapped around the blonde for almost an hour longer. It was only when Sophie began to stir that Margo made a run for the bathroom.

She always wondered if Sophie could tell when she was hiding. Whether she was shielding her eyes behind her sunglasses to avoid giving her emotions away, or even covering her face with a magazine. At the laundromat, she’d nearly lost all self control, crouched on the floor in front of Sophie, staring up at her flushed face as she absentmindedly bunched up the fabric of her skirt in her fists. If she hadn’t gone back to sitting on the washing machine with her crossword in front of her face, Sophie would definitely have seen the deep tint of pink that threatened to show from under her concealer.

Margo thought she had made it so obvious that she was affected by the kiss under the overpass. She was chatty and fidgeted more than ever; Nervous habit. And she probably didn’t even stop smiling for even a second. Sophie, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved, like she didn’t want to talk at all— like she wanted to forget it ever happened. So Margo followed along, pretending it never happened. That night at the motel, though, she tried her luck by wrapping her arm around Sophie when she tucked herself into bed beside her, and after Sophie confirmed that she was okay with it by tangling her fingers with hers, Margo couldn’t help but hold onto that sliver of hope that they could talk about it in the morning.

But of course, things didn’t go her way. The morning was rushed and stressful, and Sophie seemed to have crawled back into her shell— not wanting to talk at all, let alone about yesterday. Margo was given too much time with her own thoughts while the blonde tried to sleep in the passenger seat. She was never one to overthink, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she made Sophie uncomfortable. She was the one who kissed her again after Sophie had pulled away. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a spur-of-the-moment thing, and Margo had taken it too far.

She thought she might finally get Sophie to open up and tell her about her discomfort so they could put it behind them. But the way Sophie snapped “I’m not your girl,” at her made Margo’s stomach drop. She really made Sophie uncomfortable. Hell, she probably laced their fingers together last night just to keep Margo’s hands from wandering. Margo cringed to herself when she remembered that she‘d even kissed the back of her neck after Sophie took hold of her hand.

To her confusion, it didn’t seem to make matters any better when she told Sophie it was just a kiss. She thought that was what she wanted to hear— confirmation that it meant nothing. Even though to Margo, it meant everything. As hard as it would be, she could put her feelings aside for Sophie’s comfort. She would rather have her around as a friend than not have her around at all. But she quickly learned that it was too late for that. Sophie asked to be dropped off in the next city. Margo hadn’t fixed things in time. She had run Sophie away just like she had everyone else in her life that actually meant something to her. The worst part of it all was that she made Sophie a promise that she would let her go if she ever wanted to; and Margo Banks didn’t break her promises.

She felt another tear slip from her eye as she got closer to the border of Texas and New Mexico, swallowing the painful lump in her throat. The beads of her bracelet were clicking together with every bump of the cracked pavement beneath her, taunting her, calling her a fucking coward. With one swift, angry move, she ripped the bracelet off her wrist, clutching it in her fist as she braced herself to toss it out the window so she could just forget.

But then she remembered Sophie’s laugh— how she tossed her head back when she was cracking up and the way she caught her tongue between her teeth with a scrunched up nose when she was holding back. She remembered her smile when she wasn’t hiding it from her, the dimples embedded in her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes turned a brighter shade of blue when she was happy. She remembered how trapped she looked when she spoke about her past and how free she looked when she burned rubber in the parking lot doing donuts.

Margo remembered Sophie’s favorite song (“Faithfully” by Journey), her favorite movie (‘The Trouble With Angels‘ from 1966), and her favorite childhood memory (sledding down her hometown’s biggest hill on a day that school was cancelled due to heavy snow). She remembered the way Sophie melted into her embrace with relief when she was upset and how she got that mischievous little sparkle in her eye every time she had to act terminally ill when they checked into a new motel. She could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers and taste the twizzlers on her breath when they kissed. She had gotten so much of Sophie that she knew she could never forget her, bracelet or no bracelet; And she was quickly realizing that as much as she had of her, it wasn’t enough.

The welcome sign for New Mexico was coming up straight ahead, but Margo just squeezed tightly to the bracelet in her hand as she slammed on the brake and turned the wheel sharply to the left. There was a commotion of tires screeching and horns honking, but she couldn’t even be bothered to care as she drove over the grassy ditch that separated the two-way traffic. She skidded back onto the pavement, joining the flow of traffic back into Texas.

She needed to talk to Sophie. She needed her back.

She was starting to lose hope. It took an hour to get back to Amarillo. She kept her eyes on the opposite side of the road for the petite blonde, hoping that she hadn’t found a ride yet. She felt so stupid for leaving her there in the first place. Promise or no promise, she shouldn’t have let her go so easily.

She drove up and down the street that Walmart was on over and over, turning down different roads to expand her search. She even stopped at a few of the motels in the area, asking if they had checked her in. She was losing time as the sun began to set and the clouds rolled in with an overnight shower, but she hoped that the rain would make it easier to find her. Sophie likely wouldn’t still be walking around in the rain. She would have stopped somewhere to at least wait out the storm unless she caught another ride already. Margo tried her hardest not to think about any of the bad things that could have happened to her in the hours that they were apart.

It was after 9pm and she felt like she had searched the whole city. She asked a million random strangers if they’d seen her, but no one could help. By the time it reached 10:00 she forced herself to give up. It was pouring rain, she wasn’t going to find Sophie. She was gone and away from her just like she wanted to be. She had probably hitched a ride all the way to Albuquerque in the hours that Margo had spent looking for her.

She grabbed her wallet from her purse when she reached a red light intersection and sorted through the cash she had left, not finding much more than $500 left. That was supposed to last her until she reached LA. “Fuck,” she whispered, punching the steering wheel with the side of her fist in frustration. She needed to make that money last. When she was splitting motel rooms with Sophie, it was easier to justify paying for a bed for the night. But now that she was on her own again, she needed to be smart until she could get more cash.

Spotting the illuminated sign for the dreaded Walmart store she dropped Sophie at, she sighed and turned into the parking lot, ready to spend the night spread across the truck bench with the pillow and sleeping bag she had stashed behind the seat. From what she could see, the lot was empty since the store had just recently closed. All that remained were the streetlights and a few abandoned shopping carts. But as she drove the truck towards the store, a reflection from her headlights sparked back at her. Squinting to see through her windshield, she managed to see just enough through the rain to make out the blurred blob of colors that didn’t blend in with the wall behind it.

No fuckin’ way.

She drove slowly towards the building and honked her horn when she saw Sophie standing to her feet, hoping she wasn’t just a cruel mirage her brain had conjured up from exhaustion. But when the blonde ahead flinched and picked her head up, Margo felt her entire body loosen with relief. Sophie was holding her hand up and squinting to avoid the blinding headlights, but the light was directed away when Margo turned the truck, parking parallel with the curb in front of her as she rolled her window down. She couldn’t even try to hold back the chuckle of relief when she finally locked eyes with Sophie again.

“Well, if I’d known you’d be right where I left ya, I wouldn’t have driven all over the city lookin’ for ya.”

Chapter Text

Sophie was frozen in place, wondering if she was being pranked. There was no way that Margo Banks had just manifested right here in front of her again after she had tried so hard to convince herself that she would never see her again. Her smile was slight, but Sophie could see the genuine happiness in her eyes even through the dark and rain. But she still couldn’t move. If she moved, Margo would disappear, she was sure of it. Instead, she watched the older woman get out of the truck, instantly getting drenched in the rain. But Margo didn’t seem to care as she approached Sophie slowly until she was under the extended roof with her.

“Y-you— I-I mean—“ Sophie stammered, her mouth flapping open and closed as she tried to find the words.

Margo visibility put a guard up in the way she straightened her posture and inhaled sharply. “Look, you don’t have to be happy to see me. But…” she paused to pick up Sophie’s suitcase from the ground, “I ain’t leavin’ again ‘til we talk like grownups.”

Sophie watched as Margo carried her suitcase to the truck, tossing it over the side and securing it under the tarp; Not taking no for an answer this time, just like Sophie wished she would have hours ago. But she knew that Margo wasn’t the only one to blame. She, herself, had been too cowardly to try to stop her from driving away in the first place.

She remained speechless and frozen in place when Margo returned, unsure of what to say or do.

“Come on, Boston,” Margo beckoned softly, reaching carefully for Sophie’s hand where it was gripping onto her backpack for dear life.

Sophie managed to find Margo’s eyes under the exterior building lights, noticing a few faded mascara streaks on her skin under slightly swollen eyes. Had she been… crying? Her eyes— usually bright blue— were dark with sadness and apprehension, two emotions Sophie had never seen in her. Before she could even think to speak, to ask Margo why she came back, she just dropped her backpack to the wet ground and threw her arms around her. Her whole body melted at the reminder of not only what it felt like to be in Margo’s arms, but that she was given the chance to be in them again. Tears that had already been falling before she showed up spilled over even more against the taller woman’s collarbone that was already dampened from the rain. She felt like her knees would give out, sending her into a heap on the ground, but Margo held her up. Strong, warm, familiar arms were circled around her with one hand rubbing her back and the other gently scraping at the base of her scalp while she whispered words of comfort in her ear.

“You’re okay.”

“I got you.”

“Everythin’s gonna be fine.”

She noticed the distinct lack of pet names peppered into Margo’s words as she clung to her tighter and let her sway her soothingly side to side. She hated that she messed everything up so much that Margo didn’t even let a single ‘darlin’, ‘sweetheart’, or ‘honey’ fall from her lips.

“Hey,” Margo patted her back gently pulling back as much as Sophie would let her, “It’s been a long day. Long couple’a days, right?” She smiled when the blonde nodded with a few sniffles, “Let’s just go somewhere and get some rest. Okay? We don’t have to talk tonight.”

Sophie nodded again, watching Margo crouch down to retrieve her backpack from where it had fallen to their feet and sling it over her shoulder.

“Go get in the truck,” the brunette gave her a gentle push that Sophie obeyed without a moment of hesitation. Margo followed quickly, passing her backpack over the bench seat once they were both settled in the vehicle and out of the rain.

Sophie’s whole body tremored from the cold rain and the shock that the last few minutes had brought upon her. Her tired eyes met Margo’s once more with silent gratitude before the truck was put in drive and they were on their way once again— even if it was just up the road this time.

Sophie sat on her twin bed in the double room they’d gotten at the inn, carefully running a brush through her tangled blonde hair to the sound of Margo finishing her nightly routine in the bathroom. For once, she was grateful that they’d been given two separate beds. It was still a mystery how long she and Margo would continue to stay together from this point on. It all depended on how their conversation went. For now, Sophie relished in the present, letting the fading smell of Margo’s perfume calm her nerves while she listened to her moving around in the bathroom. For all she knew, this would end up being the last moment of peace between them. But she was so grateful for the second chance she’d been given.

Margo came out of the bathroom in an old pair of boxers and a large t-shirt just as Sophie was tying off the braid she’d woven into her damp hair. The younger woman watched her pad barefoot on the shag carpet towards the second bed and sit, cross-legged and facing her. Blue eyes met and Sophie could feel the heat rising in her cheeks under Margo’s stare. She had all this time to prepare what she wanted to say to her, and now she wasn’t sure where to start.

“I’m sorry I—“

“Look, I didn’t mean to—“

They both paused with light chuckles as they both got the nerve to speak simultaneously.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Sophie cast her eyes down shyly.

“No, you go ahead,” Margo shook her head as she rubbed her lotion into her arms.

Sophie swallowed the giant lump in her throat as she tried to think of where to start. “I, um…I guess I just…I’m sorry. For…for everything,” she shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chest, “I don’t know what I was thinking when I…y’know…yesterday. I didn’t mean to make things weird.” She dared to meet Margo’s eyes to see if she could read her reaction. “I guess it was just…new. And I wasn’t sure what to think about myself or what you probably thought about me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Obviously, it didn’t mean anything to you, and that’s fine. I don’t…I’m not sure how to figure out what it meant to me, but…” she trailed off, “…I just know it meant something.”

Margo looked at her with her brows wrinkled together, sitting up straighter in her own bed. “Sophie—“

“But I don’t want you to think I’m a creep or that I’m gonna…keep doing things like that,” Sophie continued with an audible gulp as her eyes brimmed with tears she couldn’t hold back, “I guess that’s why I asked to leave…in case I freaked you out. But I was still struggling with how I felt about everything, and having you around, knowing that you didn’t have the same…problem…was just making it difficult for me to figure it out.”

Margo was quiet. Too quiet. And after Sophie had basically just admitted to her that she realized that she had feelings for her? She wanted the bed below her to swallow her whole, this was so embarrassing. And Margo’s lack of response wasn’t helping at all.

“You done?” the brunette asked quietly, waiting until Sophie nodded slowly with her eyes in her lap before she spoke again, “Well…I guess I’m confused, cause…I was pretty much gonna tell you the same thing.”

Sophie’s head lifted with obvious confusion in her tired, teary eyes. “What?”

“I was gonna apologize for makin’ you uncomfortable. You were so…in your own head after it happened, I thought you just wanted to forget about it. So I tried to…just brush it off and act like it never happened. Seemed like that was what you wanted. And then…when you asked to leave, I figured I’d pushed too far by kissin’ you again and not givin’ you any sleepin’ space last night. I thought you thought I was a creep.”

Sophie’s breath was caught in her chest.

“But, Sophie…I can’t even come up with the words to tell you how much it meant to me.”

Sophie’s heart dropped to her stomach as Margo told her her point of view. “Really?”

“I made a highly illegal U-turn to haul ass back here from the border of New Mexico and spent the whole night drivin’ around town lookin’ for you, Boston,” she smirked, “Even if that kiss meant nothin’ to me, I was a fuckin’ idiot for lettin’ you walk away like that.”

Sophie gave her a watery smile as she tried to keep her tears from falling, “I was stupid for asking to leave in the first place.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. Like the calm after the storm when you know it’s over and everything is going to be okay again.

“Guess we both look pretty stupid right now, huh?” the older woman snorted, making Sophie laugh quietly with a nod of her head as she released her legs to let them dangle over the edge of the bed. “But I mean it, Sophie. That kiss wasn’t just nothin’ to me. I know I said it was, but…I thought that was what you wanted to hear.”

Sophie shook her head almost frantically, “No, not at all.”

Margo gave her a soft smile before crawling down from the bed, kneeling in front of her with her hands on her bent knees. The touch made Sophie’s breath hitch audibly as her cheeks burned, looking down to where the brunette was just inches below her eye level. “Well, look,” Margo started, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Okay? If you wanna forget it happened until you figure yourself out, then I’ll lock it up in the back of my mind til you’re ready.”

She pulled her lip between her teeth and shook her head slowly. “I don’t…wanna forget,” she breathed, watching Margo’s lips threaten to curl up.

“Then we don’t have to.”

“But…but I’m still…figuring myself out.”

“No one’s rushin’ you, honey,” Margo’s hand came up to cup her cheek, making Sophie instinctively lean into the warm touch that she’d missed so much, “Not me or anyone else. But I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Tears finally slipped from Sophie’s eyes and Margo was quick to swipe her thumb across her cheek before finding her arms full of her once more. Sophie shook pitifully in her embrace, crying into her shoulder while Margo kissed her temple and cradled the back of her head.

“I’m so sorry,” Sophie whimpered, her voice thick with tears and muffled against her shoulder. She gripped the sleeves of Margo’s t-shirt in tight fists, wanting to keep her close so she didn’t disappear.

“Hey, it was just a big ol’ misunderstanding, babygirl,” Margo whispered in her ear— the soft term of endearment sending a chill down Sophie’s spine. “I’m sorry too.”

The blonde continued to tremble in her arms as she cried, surely leaving wet stains on the soft cotton of her t-shirt by now. “Please don’t let me leave again. Okay?” she boldly pulled back to meet Margo’s eyes again, searching them for sincerity, “No matter what I say.”

Margo just let a small smile creep up on her face as she leaned up to kiss the worry line between her eyebrows. “Okay.”

“Promise me.”

She looked down between them where Sophie had her pinky extended, waiting to link with hers in a sacred, binding pact. She looped her own pinky finger around hers, keeping the link tight as she leaned down to kiss Sophie’s knuckles. “Cross my heart.”

Sophie smiled, closing her eyes as Margo gently kissed a fallen tear off her cheek. If she was dreaming, she never wanted to wake up. Her heart was pounding and fluttering at the same time when she turned towards her, capturing her lips tentatively like she’d wanted to do since yesterday. She could taste the salt of her tears on Margo’s lips as she melted into her, wishing they hadn’t wasted the past day stuck in a rut of confusion when they could’ve just been doing this the whole time. Margo held the sides of her face delicately, thumbs tracing her jaw over and over like she was trying to commit the feeling of them to memory. Even though Sophie could feel her lungs burning with a desperate need for air, she couldn’t help the pout that formed on her lips when Margo pulled away slowly. But it quickly turned into a giggle and a smile after Sophie leaned towards her for one more chaste kiss.

“So…you wantin’ to sleep alone tonight?” Margo asked quietly. Sophie knew that she was only asking to give her time and space, but she shook her head almost immediately, smiling when Margo muttered, “Well, good. Me either.”

The older woman flipped off the bedside lamp and crawled under the covers of Sophie’s bed, allowing her to guide her to where she wanted her to be— which just so happened to be just how they fell asleep the night before: Sophie’s back pressed against Margo’s front, Margo’s arm wrapped around her waist, and their fingers woven together. Sophie could feel Margo sigh with relief against the back of her neck before she dropped a slow kiss there once more.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered sadly, tightening her hold on Margo’s hand like she was scared it would happen again.

“Mm, you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy,” Margo hummed against her skin and kissed the back of her neck again, sending shivers through Sophie’s entire body. She slotted a leg between Sophie’s, making her feel securely wrapped in her so she could rest easily. “Get some sleep, baby. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

And finally, after the last 24 exhausting hours, Sophie did.

Chapter Text

Sunlight streamed through the tattered blinds of the motel room early the next morning. Sophie stirred with a small mewl of displeasure, turning her face towards the lumpy pillow to hide from the sun. But as she gained consciousness, she became more aware of the weight across her middle where Margo still had an arm wrapped around her. Thoughts of the day before came flooding back into her mind. The gas station, the flat tire, the argument that led to them going separate ways. It was hard to believe that it all happened in a day. Almost as hard as it was to believe that everything she and Margo had been through together only happened over the span of six days. Not even a week, but Sophie felt like she’d known her for a lifetime.

She remembered how yesterday had ended a million times better than how it started. She thought she would never see Margo again after they said their goodbyes in front of the department store. And knowing that it all could have been avoided made her face scrunch up against the cotton pillowcase with a deep cringe. But it was over and behind them now. They talked, they apologized, they made up. Now things could go back to normal.

Except they couldn’t. Not really.

What was their ‘normal’ supposed to be now?

Sophie sighed into her pillow, deciding that it was too early to think about it. For now, she didn’t even want to think. She was content to just stay huddled in this small bed with Margo for now. Normal could be figured out later.

She shifted again under the dead weight of Margo’s arm, ending up on her stomach with her head turned towards the sleeping brunette. Sophie had never seen her up close like this before— not without having her staring right back at her. Her eyes danced over her features with a small smile. She had a few freckles dotted across her cheeks and bridge of her nose, likely from a lifetime under the Texas sun. She had a few subtle signs of crows feet around her eyes and smile lines that had made permanent indents in her cheeks; and it took every ounce of self-control Sophie had to resist smoothing out the worry line etched between her eyebrows with the pad of her fingertip.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried not to giggle as she watched Margo’s nostrils twitch. It was difficult when the older woman was tightening her hold on her waist in her sleep, unconsciously trying to pull her closer even when it seemed like there was no space left. But Margo must have been crossing the bridge between sleep and wake as she did, since her lashes fluttered open just moments later.

“Hi,” Sophie whispered with a shy grin and flushed cheeks.

“Hi,” the brunette just smiled back before giving a yawn and a stretch, but her arm fell lazily back over Sophie right after, much to the blonde’s delight. “How’d you sleep?”

Turning a bit more onto her side, Sophie tucked her arms against her own chest and folded her hands together under her chin. “Really good. I was so tired. What about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” she smirked, reaching up to brush a loose strand of blonde from where it had fallen across Sophie’s face, “You still okay with everythin’ from last night?”

Sophie nodded, her cheeks burning brighter as Margo continued to comb whatever hair had gotten loose from her braid back and out of her face. Even when it was all tucked back behind her ear, her fingertips still grazed delicately across her hairline, causing Sophie’s breath to catch in her throat. She wondered if she would ever get over the buzzing feeling she got when Margo’s skin came in contact with hers, but she really wasn’t sure she wanted to. “You came back,” she whispered, unaware that she had even said it out loud.

“Course I came back,” Margo smiled warmly, tracing a fingernail down Sophie’s forehead, between her eyebrows and over the bridge of her nose until it landed on her bottom lip, carefully tugging it free from where it was trapped between her teeth.

“Why?” the blonde asked, feeling emotion bubbling up in her chest already, “I’m a horrible person. I’m…a murderer. You shouldn’t—“ Margo’s fingertip came to her lips again, stopping her from saying anything else.

“Sophie, stop,” she whispered, eyes intensely focused on hers, though Sophie couldn’t bring herself to meet them. “Look at me,” she demanded gently, waiting until tearful blue eyes finally met hers. “You are human. Whatever happened with Graham…I know you did what you had to do to protect yourself. What other option did you have?”

Sophie thought back to that awful night back in Cambridge when she was staring down the barrel of the gun her inebriated husband had pointed at her forehead— finger on the trigger and ready to use it. She didn’t even remember if she thought of any other options for herself, but the decision she made seemed like the only one. “Let him kill me,” she finally answered in a shaky whisper with a tear finally slipping from her eyes.

“Exactly.” Margo wiped the tear away slowly, “Now the world is out one more abusive asshole, and you’re still here. With me. And I like havin’ you with me. That’s why I came back. Not havin’ you around just…didn’t feel right. I missed you.”

Sophie suppressed the sob that threatened to escape the back of her throat and let a few more tears fall. But she swore that through her blurry vision she could see Margo’s blue eyes shining with unshed tears of her own. “I missed you, too,” she whispered. Her heart and head— usually battling from opposite sides of the field— finally agreed on one thing: that leaning in to kiss Margo was all she wanted to do at that moment. And she did, slowly, tentatively as if she was afraid it was the wrong move. But Margo kissed her back soundly, securing her confidence in her decision.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the twin-sized bed, alternating between slow, deliberate kisses that made heat built in Sophie’s gut, and chaste pecks when they became desperate for air but still didn’t want to stop. Sophie’s heart fluttered more and more with each kiss, and it was so addicting that she couldn’t help but chase the older woman’s lips when she gently pulled away.

“So I’m thinkin’…” Margo started, smirking at the way Sophie was flushed and trying not to stare at her lips as she spoke, “We stay here til check out, find breakfast somewhere, and then get in some shootin’ practice after get to New Mexico.”

“Shooting practice?” Sophie looked confused, distracted enough to take her eyes off her lips.

“Mmhm. Don’t think I forgot that you’re still carryin’ around a gun that you don’t even know how to use. I still ain’t lettin’ that slide,” she hummed, tapping the tip of Sophie’s pink nose playfully.

“But—“

“Aht,” she tutted, pressing her finger to her lips this time, “No ‘but’s, baby. It’s for your safety.” Sophie just pouted under her fingertip as Margo looked up to find the alarm clock behind her head, “We got a good three hours til checkout, and I ain’t spendin’em fightin’ you on this.”

Sophie’s swollen lips curled into a smile before kissing her again. She wasn’t sure what to make of her and Margo’s relationship, but in this motel room with the morning sun blanketing over them, it didn’t matter what they called it. For now, it was just them, and it didn’t need to be anything other than that.

“A-are you sure about this?” Sophie wiped her clammy hands on her loose jeans after setting a few bottles and cans on the trunk of a fallen tree at the edge of an open field.

“Girl, would you stop psychin’ yourself out? We’re target shootin’, not goin’ on a murder spree,” Margo called back to her from the bed of the truck where she was collecting everything they needed— from her own gun and ammo to the supplies they had bought from the sporting goods store Margo found after they finally reached Albuquerque. She got her a small box of bullets and had Sophie pick out a holster so she could stop carrying her pistol around loosely in her backpack. “Come over here,” Margo beckoned with a smile, holding her hand out with wiggling fingers.

Sophie bit her lip as she approached her slowly, letting Margo take her hand when she was close enough. Margo had the tailgate down, using it as a table with all their supplies on display like a science experiment. The taller woman kept Sophie’s quivering hand in hers as she pulled her to stand beside her.

“You remember the number one rule I told you?”

“Um…no finger on the trigger until I’m ready to use it?” Sophie’s voice tilted up in question, unsure if that was the rule Margo was referring to.

“Good girl,” Margo nodded. Though, her tone was entirely too casual for the way it made Sophie feel. And the brunette moved onto the lesson before Sophie could even process the feeling. “Now, loadin’ a revolver is simple. See this button here?”

Sophie nodded when Margo tilted the gun for her to see the small switch on the side.

“That’s the chamber release. You press that forward and the chamber comes out to the side so you can load’er up.” Margo demonstrated slowly so Sophie could watch and learn before closing it up so the younger woman could try it herself.

The gun felt heavier than usual in Sophie’s hands. She’d held it and carried it around plenty of times by now. She’d fired it and put it to use. But since that night with Graham, she didn’t really see it as anything more than just the toy she’d been using to ward off perverted truckers. She never thought that she would end up learning how to actually use it.

“There ya go, just press that…” Margo instructed softly, watching Sophie repeat the process she’d demonstrated. “Good. Now once your bullets are loaded, just press on the release again, and spin the cylinder back into the frame like I did.”

Sophie did as she was told with the empty pistol, biting her lip with every click it made as she adjusted it. “Like that?” She looked up at Margo for approval.

“Just like that,” Margo nodded once, “Now do it again, but this time we’re gonna actually put the bullets in.”

Sophie swallowed hard, her hands beginning to tremble again when she released the cylinder. After Margo dropped a few bullets into her palm, Sophie just stood frozen, looking down at the circle of empty holes in the chamber.

“Hey,” the brunette’s voice was as soft as the hand that pressed to Sophie’s lower back, grounding her just enough to stop her from spiraling into a panic. “You’ve got this. It’s just target practice.”

Nodding after a beat, Sophie took a deep breath and loaded the bullets into the chamber one by one under Margo’s instruction, clicking it back into the frame when she was finished. “Whoa,” her eyes widened as she realized she was holding a fully loaded gun in her slightly shaky hands.

“How’s that feel?” Margo’s hand remained at the small of her back.

“Like I’m holding a bomb, honestly.”

“Well, don’t let it know you’re afraid. These things can sense fear,” Margo chuckled, “Gotta let it know who’s boss.”

Sophie scoffed lightheartedly. “And I’m supposed to be boss?”

“You sure are, darlin’!” Margo took her free hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they moved through the wooded area, coming to a stop a few yards away from the fallen tree where their targets were lined up. “You ready?”

Sophie hesitated before nodding slowly, pressing her lips into a tight smile. She watched Margo pull her own gun from the holster at her side, paying close attention as she demonstrated a comfortable stance. The last lesson they had, Sophie had just aimed the unloaded weapon at her and pulled the trigger uselessly— and that had sent her into a flashback. Now, she was holding the fully loaded gun in her hands as she tried not to remember the way the noise of it firing echoed in her ears for days.

“All right, Boston, let’s see what’cha got,” Margo tucked her gun back into the holster and stood with her hands on her hips, watching as the younger woman took aim at the fallen tree.

Sophie raised her arms, holding onto the gun in a way that felt comfortable, though she was out of her comfort zone entirely. She remembered to pull the lock down, but her vision tunneled as it clicked into place. She could feel the panic setting in again, but she didn’t want to let Margo down. Her hands shook as she took aim and she bit down so hard on her lip she almost drew blood.

Just do it. Like she said, it’s just target practice.

She held her breath as she began to lose patience with herself, willing herself to just pull the trigger. But every time, she hesitated. It wasn’t until she felt Margo’s presence right behind her— making the hairs at the back of her neck stand straight up— that she remembered to breathe out. With her teeth gritted and her eyes clamped shut, she squeezed the trigger on the silent count of three, stumbling back a bit when the gun reacted to the pull. She flinched at the loud pop, but kept a tight hold on the gun, only opening her eyes when the resounding echoes faded. She didn’t know where the bullet ended up, but it definitely didn’t hit any of the targets.

“Here,” Margo said gently, placing her hands on Sophie’s shoulders. She wedged a boot between her feet, nudging her legs farther apart until they were even with her hips, “Y’wanna make sure you’re sturdy. Even a little gun like this can knock ya back some if you’re not used to it.” Sophie nodded, breathing shakily as Margo pressed against her back. Chanel and cigarettes was all she could focus on when the older woman’s cheek pressed to the side of her head just behind her ear, raising her hands to gently guide hers into place. “Remember, it’s just you and the gun,” she whispered, “One thing workin’ together.”

Sophie couldn’t control the shivers that ran up and down her spine when warm breath met with the shell of her ear. She bit down hard on her lip, willing her hands to stop shaking under Margo’s, but it was difficult when the brunette made her so nervous.

“Just remember to breathe. Deep breath in…” she instructed calmly, bringing one hand down to Sophie’s stomach to feel her breathing, “…Now let it out til there’s nothin’ left. Eyes open…good girl. Whenever you’re ready.”

Sophie’s stomach fluttered when Margo stepped back again. She could feel her eyes on her, watching her every move intensely, but she took aim after a few deep breaths and pulled the trigger again. She still flinched, still slightly faltered back on her feet, but the unmistakable sound of glass breaking made it all worth it.

“Oh my god!” Sophie practically squealed after the bottle shattered, bouncing excitedly on her toes as Margo gave her a solo applause, “I did it!”

“You did it!” she clapped for her with a big smile, “Try again. You got it!”

Sophie’s grin never faltered when she took her stance again, aiming for the empty, rusted soda can next to what was left of the bottle she demolished. She did what Margo had instructed her to do before: feet apart, deep breath in, deep breath out. Just her and the gun. Once she felt confident, she pulled the trigger again. The noise and kick back still made her flinch, but that didn’t even matter when she saw the can fly off the tree stump.

“Well, shit!” Margo laughed behind her, “Think I’ve got a natural crack shot on my hands!”

Sophie’s face hurt from smiling. She couldn’t believe that she was even firing a gun in the first place, but she definitely never expected to be good at it. Trying her luck, she aimed it again, focusing on her target. Deep breath in, deep breath out. And with another bang, one more bottle was cracked and knocked out of place. Margo was cheering her on behind her, increasing her confidence with each shot. She missed her next target, but she didn’t give up. Her sixth round grazed the edge of the tin can she was aiming for, which was close enough for her, but she was determined to hit it this time. She took aim, biting down on her lip as she pulled the trigger again. But this time it just clicked uselessly.

“What the fuck?” her brow furrowed as she looked down at the gun in her hands.

“Must be outta bullets,” Margo came up behind her, taking the firearm from her carefully. “Proud’a you, Boston! I knew you had it in ya, but wasn’t expectin’ you to catch on that quick,” she grinned down at her and took her hand, leading her back towards the truck. Sophie just giggled, proud of herself as Margo wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her heart was still pounding from the thrill when they stopped at the tailgate. “How you feelin’?”

“Good…great, actually!” Sophie said breathlessly, watching Margo flip the chamber open. But her smile fell and her brow wrinkled as she watched her. “What’s that? I thought it was empty,” she asked, looking at the small metal pieces that clinked into her palm.

“These are just the bullet casings,” Margo stated simply, dropping them into Sophie’s hand for her to inspect, “Gotta empty’em out before you put new bullets in.”

Sophie was quiet, holding the warm metal in her hands as she watched Margo pull a few more from the box. “Was there…one in there…before?”

Margo glanced at her and put the gun down on the lowered tailgate. “I took it out last time when I made sure it wasn’t loaded,” she told her gently, sensing that the mood had shifted. The fact that Sophie knew that there was only one casing told her that she knew that there was only one bullet. But if she had no idea how to load the chamber, someone else must have done it. One bullet. Meaning whoever put it into the gun was determined to get the job done with one shot. And as she looked at Sophie silently, she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of how she ended up with the gun in the first place.

“So…y’wanna go again? See if you can get the rest of’em?” Margo sighed with a smile, trying to bring Sophie’s back as well. Thankfully the blonde nodded after a beat, straightening her posture as she got her confidence back.

“Yeah,” she whispered, pulling her lips into a tight smile when she met her eyes and dropping the cartridges into the empty box cover. She was going to reach for the gun to load it again, but Margo caught her hand with her own, smoothly bringing it to her lips to kiss her knuckles. Sophie’s cheeks flamed up as she shyly averted her eyes, but she used all the confidence she had leftover to lean up on her tip-toes to kiss the taller woman’s lips for the first time since they left the inn this morning.

Margo smiled into the chaste kiss, grateful that she was able to clear away whatever dark cloud had settled over Sophie’s head. “All right c’mon, Calamity Jane. You got six more targets to hit.”

Chapter Text

Sophie rested her head against the passenger side window that was chilled from the air conditioning, watching the endless stretch of night sky above them. After she had successfully knocked out all her targets with some practice, they took off for Albuquerque. Margo wanted to get to Vegas by Friday, but it was only Tuesday, so they were making good time. They still had an hour before they reached their next stopping point, but since their last conversation ended not long ago, Margo and Sophie were content with the comfortable silence between them.

A Loretta Lynn tape played in the cassette player and Sophie found both comfort and entertainment with Margo’s hand in her lap. She spun the gold rings around her slim fingers and toyed with the bracelets that were stacked on her wrist, smiling at the baby blue one that stuck out like a sore thumb. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing this,” she laughed quietly, lightly snapping the elastic under the beads against Margo’s wrist.

“Course I am. Why wouldn’t I? You’re still wearin’ yours,” Margo smirked, not taking her eyes off the dark, open road ahead until Sophie tangled their fingers together, earning a smile from across the bench seat.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t match your other jewelry,” the blonde mumbled, looking down at their hands distractedly.

But Margo just shook her head, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “It don’t have to. I didn’t buy it to match anythin’. I bought it cause it’s your favorite color.”

Sophie was quiet in response, pressing her lips into a thin line as her heart swelled at Margo’s reasoning.

“Don’t you worry your pretty ‘lil head ‘bout me coordinatin’ my jewelry with my outfits, babygirl. I wear what I want when I want. And I wear that—” the brunette nodded towards the bracelet that rested against Sophie’s light blue jeans, “— cause it reminds me of you.”

Pale cheeks were tinted with a bright shade of pink as the younger woman found herself at a loss for words. Margo always had the power to render her speechless in both the best and worst ways. All she could do was squeeze her hand in hers as she leaned her head back against the window.

“Oh my god, look!” she gasped almost immediately as her eyes found the stars in the sky again.

“What?”

“I saw a shooting star!” Sophie pressed her face to the glass like an overexcited child, “There’s, another one!”

“Oh yeah, it’s the middle of August. There’s a meteor shower around this time every year,” Margo looked up through the windshield, gently pulling her hand from Sophie’s to pull off into the open field on the roadside.

“What are you doing?”

After the truck was parked in the open field, Margo just smiled at her as she grabbed a few things from behind the bench, shoving them through the small window and into the truck bed. “Gonna hop in the back and watch. You comin’?”

Sophie just grinned and nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt so she could meet her behind the truck. Crawling up into the bed, Sophie moved their luggage around and helped Margo spread open the scrunched up sleeping bag using the light of the full moon.

“Why do you have a sleeping bag?” she giggled after laying out the blanket on top of it and tossing the pillow towards the front.

“That’s life on the road, baby,” Margo snorted, rummaging through her things after she climbed up into the bed to join her, “Gotta be prepared to not have a bed for the night.”

Sophie’s smile fell slowly when she realized how dumb she must have sounded for asking. So far, since she’d been catching rides from Boston, she always had money for a motel. If she didn’t have a stopping place, she just wouldn't sleep. She never even thought about what she would do if she didn’t have access to a bed when she wanted one.

“A-ha!” Margo hissed, pulling the stolen bottle of tequila from one of her bags, holding it up victoriously before she shuffled back to the tailgate, sitting with her slender legs swinging over the edge. If Sophie had offended her with her question, she certainly didn’t seem to care now. “Get over here, Boston,” she patted the spot beside her, taking a sip from the bottle as Sophie settled next to her.

The blonde took the bottle when it was handed to her, looking down at the liquid sloshing within its glass confines. She hadn’t had a drink in so long. She missed the way it calmed her nerves. Before Graham forbade her from drinking, he used to say it made her fun, which only made her worry that she wasn’t fun when she was sober. But fuck it, and fuck him. He was dead and she was free. She leaned her head back with the large bottle and cringed as it burned its way down her throat, immediately putting her more at ease.

Margo just laughed as she took the bottle back with another long sip. “Mm, look they’re all over now,” she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and pointed up above them where falling stars were streaking across the sky.

“Wow,” Sophie leaned her head back to watch.

Margo looked up to watch with her, closing her eyes contentedly as a light breeze blew her hair back. They sat in silence together for what felt like age, counting the stars that fell from the sky. Sophie didn’t even know much time had passed when Margo spoke again.

“So…what’cha gonna wish for? Gotta make a wish on a fallin’ star.”

Sophie just laughed breathily, shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t come prepared with a wish to make.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone’s got a wish. Everyone wants somethin’,” Margo poked her bare arm playfully after one more sip from the bottle, “What do you want?”

Sophie just shrugged, still staring up at the sky. She could feel blue eyes boring into her skin from beside her, knowing that Margo was watching as she sat deep in thought. “I guess I just…I wanna be free. And feel free like I do when…I’m with you.”

The silence that followed sat tensely in the warm night air around them. Something had shifted, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. All she knew was that if she were forced to live out this moment for the rest of her life— stuck in an endless loop of pointing out meteors with Margo in the bed of her truck— she wouldn’t hate it.

The brunette sighed, taking one more swig of tequila from the bottle before she fell back against the spread out sleeping bag. Sophie just turned, watching over her shoulder as she did. As much as she wanted to lie back with her, the tequila hadn’t lowered her inhibitions that much yet. Despite everything Margo had said and done to make Sophie feel like she didn’t have to hide or be afraid around her, she still had that lingering fear of being told that she was too clingy, too overbearing, too much.

But unlike Graham, her parents, and even some of the people that had the audacity to call themselves her friends, Margo didn’t seem like the type to even think that about her, let alone say it to her face. If anything, Margo wanted her around just as much as Sophie wanted to be around her. She wondered why she ever bothered worrying that Margo would think she was too clingy when she always demanded her closeness. Even now, while she was at war with herself, she felt a gentle tug on the lower back of her loose tank top— a silent signal that the older woman wanted her closer.

“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” Margo murmured as Sophie lay back in the truck bed with her.

Sophie mirrored her position and stared up at the stars with her blonde hair fanned out behind her. “How would you know?” she asked with a hint of snark in her tone.

“Cause I know you.”

Sophie turned to face her, remaining on her back. All she had was the light of the moon to help her make out the shape of Margo’s profile, but her eyes shone brightly even in the dark. “You’ve known me for a week. Not even a week yet, technically.”

“I know,” she hummed, obviously much more tipsy than Sophie. “Feels like longer. Probably know you better’n you know yourself by now.”

Sophie just smiled and shook her head at her nonsensical, tequila-coated babbling. There was still so much about her that Margo didn’t know. She still hadn’t even given her a last name. “I don’t think that’s possible,” she chuckled, glancing back up at the sky.

“No, I do,” Margo turned to lay on her side, propping her head up on her elbow, “I may not know when your birthday is or whether your favorite flower is lilies or daisies, but I know you, Sophie. Cause I see you.”

The blonde’s throat bobbed as she swallowed audibly, still staring at the stars overhead as she thought about Margo’s words.

“I know you’ve got a little vein that pops out here when you’re stressed and overthinkin’,” she reached for her temple, tracing her polished fingertip over where the vein was clearly visible since Sophie had been overthinking. “I know that you still get nightmares about Graham; and you tell yourself to just go back to sleep cause you don’t want me to think you’re a burden if you wake me up.”

Sophie felt her heart start beating faster when she felt the older woman shift closer beside her and trail her fingers down her bare arm, coming to stop when she reached the sliver of exposed midriff where her tank top had ridden up.

“I dunno what happened here…but I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” Margo said softly, tracing the line of a scar that sat just below her stomach.

Sophie felt her face heat up and her muscles flutter under the feather-light touch of Margo’s fingertip. She could feel her throat drying out and her vision getting blurry as her mind flooded with arousal. Margo’s voice was going through her ears, then splitting off between her heart and her core— making her chest ache with emotion while she tried to ignore the growing dampness between her thighs.

“Anything else?” she asked breathily with every intention of sounding annoyed, but with the way her breath caught in her throat, it only came out sounding like she was begging to hear more.

Margo smirked beside her, her eyes glassy from
tequila. Sophie continued to tremble under her touch, as much as she tried to control it. Her eyes remained glued up to the clear sky full of stars, but she still let a small whimper slip when Margo’s fingertips snaked under the waistband of her jeans.

Sophie had never let anyone touch her besides Graham. He was nowhere near as gentle and considerate as Margo was being now. Graham groped at her like he owned her, whereas Margo treated her like something that might disappear any second. With Graham, she always hoped he would be done soon; but with Margo, she found herself hoping that she would never stop. Flicking her tongue over her dry lips, she boldly turned to face the brunette only to find her staring intensely back at her. Her pupils were blown out, nearly erasing any trace of the usual icy blue of her irises, but she still looked at Sophie with the silent question of whether or not she could continue. At first Margo didn’t move her fingers any further than the inch or so past her belt loops that she already had. But an unconscious buck of Sophie’s hips mixed with her flushed cheeks and labored breathing seemed to give Margo all the permission she needed to keep testing the waters.

Sophie felt dizzy when Margo pressed herself closer to her side. The older woman removed hand from below the waistband of her pants and slowly dragged it up her torso and over her exposed collarbone before landing at the side of her neck. Sophie shivered under the delicate touch, audibly gasping as goosebumps covered her skin. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Margo’s lips— and she felt like she might pass out when they landed against her own, slow and deliberate, but hungry. Another whimper left her throat at the taste of tequila on her tongue when it brushed against hers, and she swore she felt Margo’s lips curl into a smile in response. With her thumb still gently stroking just under her jaw, Sophie rolled her body towards the brunette, instinctively gripping the fabric of her blouse in her fist— needing something to keep her from floating away.

“Margo—“ Sophie gasped when she pulled back for air. She fell back against the sleeping bag with her eyes still contently closed when a manicured hand trailed back down her body, finding the skin just under her jeans again.

Margo’s lips continued to press anywhere they could reach: from the corner of her parted lips to the sharp line of her jaw, and kissing up to the shell of her ear. “D’you want me to stop?” she whispered in a way Sophie had never heard before.

“No,” the younger woman swallowed hard, still fighting for breath, “God, no.”

Margo hummed in delight against her ear, sending another rush of heat between Sophie’s legs. “Tell me if you want me to,” she murmured, picking her head up to meet Sophie’s eyes as she opened them, “Okay?”

“Okay.” Sophie’s tongue flicked against her lips again as she nodded desperately, rolling her hips up in need of Margo’s touch. Kissing her slowly, the brunette skillfully popped open the button of her jeans and eased the zipper down, exposing the pale pink cotton of Sophie’s underwear. She couldn’t help the blush of embarrassment that crept up on her face. Margo was so womanly and sophisticated, she always wore lacy garments and thongs, things that Sophie never felt confident enough to wear even under her clothes. But Margo didn’t seem to care what she had on under her jeans. As her hand crept lower, all she seemed to be interested in was finding out just how aroused she was already.

“Fuck, Sophie,” she breathed against her lips, kissing her hard as her fingers rubbed firmly against the dampened fabric between her thighs, “You’re soaked, baby.”

The blonde gasped into the kiss, trying her hardest not to retreat into her shell of embarrassment. “I c-can’t— ah!— h-help it,” she whimpered as she found a hiding spot against Margo’s neck. Her hips jerked on their own, desperately chasing her fingers for friction. And Margo’s sly chuckling wasn’t helping.

“I know, sweet girl,” she practically cooed in her ear, pulling back to kiss her lips again, needy and possessive. “You need more, huh?”

Sophie’s face was probably beet red by now, but she still nodded, finding less shame in her arousal as the moments passed. “Please,” came out just short of a sob as she clung to the older woman.

Margo just smirked and dragged her fingers against the soaked cotton on the short journey to the elastic sitting at Sophie’s hips. She caught her cry with a deep kiss when she finally touched her with no barriers between them. Sophie was releasing a string of pitiful, needy noises that were driving Margo crazy— making her want to pull every sound from her until she had nothing left. She moved closer until she was hovering over her, taking in the shine in Sophie’s hooded eyes, the pink hue that painted her cheeks, and the swollen flesh of her parted lips as her fingers swiped slowly through her slit. “Fuck,” Margo released in a heavy breath, lost between how blissed out Sophie looked and how slick she was under her touch.

The blonde dug her blunt fingernails into Margo’s biceps as her breath was stolen by kiss after kiss to her lips. The older woman was taking her time in a way that felt deliberate— teasing, like she was guiding her slowly towards the edge of a cliff, leaving Sophie shaking with the anticipation of her inevitable fall. Each pass of Margo’s fingers across her entrance left her hips jerking as she cried out. She knew Margo was teasing her. She would chuckle quietly each time Sophie whined for more, but barely gave her what she wanted.

“P-please,” she was getting desperate— more desperate than she’d ever felt in her life. One hand left its spot gripping Margo’s arm and reached down between them, fumbling under denim and cotton until her hand found the back of hers. She was putting an end to the teasing swipes and strokes herself. With her lips firmly against Margo’s, Sophie pressed her fingers against hers, applying pressure until two slid easily inside her.

“Oh, that’s my good girl, taking what you want,” Margo nipped at Sophie’s bottom lip, pressing the heel of her palm against her aching clit as her fingers pumped in and out of her sopping entrance. Sophie just gasped at the praise, keeping her hand against Margo’s as it worked her over. She could feel her arousal seeping between Margo’s fingers and onto her own. Normally she would be humiliated at how affected she was, but now she was too busy chasing her release to care— too busy trying to make sure she never forgot the feeling of being so completely surrounded by Margo like this.

As she got closer to the edge, her legs fell further open as much as the restricting denim would allow, wiggling her hips in a desperate attempt to ease them down. She worried that her frantic fidgeting had sent the wrong message, since Margo slowed her fingers and removed them from her entirely. “N-no, please, I wasn’t—“ she babbled, breathless as she tried to convince her to continue.

But Margo just shhed her gently with a slow kiss to her lips, pulling her slick-coated hand from under her jeans before sitting up on her knees so she could pull the denim and ruined pink cotton down her legs. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby,” she reassured her quietly as she peeled the garments off of her. The tangled fabric was tossed to the side before Margo pressed a kiss to the side of Sophie’s bent knee, readjusting so she was bracketed between them.

The moonlight didn’t offer much, but when Sophie opened her eyes, she could see the primal wanton look that formed on Margo’s face when she set her sights on the glistening mess at the apex of her thighs. And she couldn’t hold back the desperate whimper that came from the back of her throat when the night breeze lapped at her center, reminding her of just how exposed she was. Even if she wanted to, Sophie couldn’t even try to hide herself by closing her legs. Margo had one hand on each knee on both sides of her, holding her open as she dropped wet kisses to the inside of her thighs.

Sophie’s eyes fluttered closed as she tried to remain conscious. Her head was swimming so much, she was just glad she was already lying down in case she passed out. But as Margo’s kisses crept higher up her thighs, her eyelids snapped open before she sat up on her elbows, trying to pull away. “Wait—“

Margo picked her head up, brushing hair from her face as she looked up at her with concern and confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I— I mean, y-you don’t…you don’t have to…do that,” Sophie shook her head with her cheeks burning from embarrassment on top of her desire.

Margo sat up a bit, still fenced in by Sophie’s legs, “Do you not want me to?”

Biting her lip, Sophie was quiet as she thought about her answer. “I-Iguess I do. But only if you want to,” she spoke quickly, trying not to put any pressure on her or be too needy, “Graham, he…he didn’t like to.” She winced as she brought up her dead husband back in Boston, but it was true. He always claimed that it wasn’t comfortable for his neck or back, making Sophie think that was an unnecessary inconvenience.

“Baby,” Margo sighed, “I may go to hell for sayin’ this, but everythin’ you tell me about this fuckin’ guy makes me glad he’s dead.”

Sophie couldn’t help but laugh, covering her face shyly. If Margo was going to hell, she’d be right beside her at the iron gates.

The older woman knelt closer, gently pulling Sophie to sit up so they were face to face. “You…” she paused to kiss her lips slowly, “…deserve so much more than everythin’ you’ve had to put up with.” She kissed her again, running her palms up and down her thighs. “And I ain’t lettin’ you go on thinkin’ that you don’t deserve to be fuckin’ worshipped. You understand me?”

Sophie bit her lip hard as she nodded at Margo with dark, hooded eyes. The brunette’s determination to make her feel good physically and emotionally was so foreign, but the anticipation of the unknown— of finding out what it was like to be treated like her needs mattered— had her mind swimming as her limbs turned to jelly.

Margo nodded back, wordlessly reaching around to unclasp Sophie’s bra, helping ease her arms out of it until it was tossed to the side with her other clothes. The blonde was left in just a loose-fitting tank top, and Margo took advantage of the access she had to her exposed collarbones, kissing and nipping at her skin as Sophie sighed just above her head.

Blue eyes fell closed again as Margo gently squeezed her side under her shirt, lifting the fabric as her hand crept higher. Sophie let out an audible gasp when Margo’s warm palm found her breast, swiping her thumb back and forth across a stiff nipple, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips forward as the feeling shot straight to her core. Thankfully, Margo seemed to read her body language like a book.

The brunette just smirked knowingly and stole one last kiss before she pushed Sophie to lie back again, leaving a trail of kisses on her way back down her body until she reached her hips. Margo was teasing her again, torturing her with slow kisses and barely-there touches. She kissed across her waist, taking a little extra time to trace her scar with affectionate kisses. But Sophie hardly had any time to process the emotion that it made her feel before lips were back on her inner thighs, creeping up towards her center. Margo held her through her trembling while she kissed the sensitive crease that separated her thigh from her pussy, making Sophie’s hips jerk up on their own and her name fall from her lips.

When the warmth of Margo’s mouth closed around her, Sophie’s back arched off the sleeping bag under her and she slapped her hand across her mouth, not wanting her cry of pleasure to echo through the open field.

“Mm-mm,” Margo shook her head as she pulled away from her center with an already glistening chin, “None’a that. Lemme hear you. It’s just you and me here.”

“But—“ she went to protest, but she cut herself off with a sharp moan muffled behind her tightly sealed lips when Margo’s tongue dragged slowly over her clit. “F-fuck, Margo,” she whispered, reaching up to brush blonde hair from where it was sticking to the thin sheen of sweat on her brow.

“No ‘but’s, baby,” Margo murmured against her skin, “Unless you want me to stop.”

“No!” she sat up on her elbows, barely able to keep herself upright, “No, please.”

“Be loud for me, then. Show me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

Sophie bit back a whine at first when Margo’s lips wrapped around her clit, but the closer she got to her release, the less she cared about being noisy. It was actually pretty freeing to just allow her body to react naturally to everything Margo was doing to her. Her moans and whimpers of need filled the air around them as she fell back against the truck bed. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she pressed herself closer, trying to get more.

She didn’t know what ‘more’ she was looking for, but Margo apparently did. Her strong arm looped around her thigh so she could press against Sophie’s pelvis while her thumb toyed with her throbbing clit. And to add fuel to the fire, her mouth dipped lower, pulling a broken sob from the blonde when she licked diligently at her entrance, lapping up the mess of arousal she’d caused.

“You’re gettin’ close,” Margo mumbled. It was a statement, rather than a question because she knew. And she was right. Sophie was writhing beneath her, gasping and moaning as Margo drove her to the edge. She had never experienced anything like this before. Margo ate her out like she was starving, greedily holding her down like she didn’t plan on letting her go until she was finished with her. Even if Sophie wanted to free herself from her unrelenting grip, she had a feeling that Margo wouldn’t allow it. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” she asked rhetorically, earning a desperate whimper and nod from the blonde above.

Lips closed around her clit again with hollowed cheeks and Sophie felt a scream rip from her lungs as she came hard and fast, dripping into Margo’s talented mouth as her body convulsed from the intensity. Her hips rocked as she rode out her high, rubbing herself lewdly against Margo’s tongue— shaking gasps peppered with small mewls of satisfaction. The older woman just held her through it all, letting Sophie dig her nails into the sides of her hands that held tightly to her thighs as she soaked up every noise she made with her mouth full of her taste.

Eventually, Sophie came back down to Earth, panting and trembling. Her hips jerked again as Margo cleaned her up with care and kisses to her heated skin. She lay there, boneless like a rag doll, letting the stars behind her eyelids settle while she caught her breath. Margo, once she was satisfied, pressed a slow kiss just above her clit before climbing back up her body and wrapping the quivering blonde in her arms. Sophie clung to her immediately, still dazed and breathless when Margo gathered her into a warm embrace, raking her fingernails through her hair with whispered words of comfort and praise.

“I got you, babygirl—“

“—did so good for me.”

“—look so fuckin’ perfect when you—“

Sophie barely registered her words as she fought the urge to fall asleep. With what little strength she had, she wrapped her arms around the brunette, weakly tugging at her blouse with a pitiful whimper of want. “Wanna…feel you,” she mumbled as her breathing evened out. Her eyelids were drooping quickly, but she managed to stay awake just long enough to feel Margo’s soft skin against hers when her top was removed and she was gently guided to rest in the crook of her neck.

Chapter Text

With her face scrunched up in displeasure, Sophie whined quietly as she tried to hide from the sun that was just rising for the morning. She rolled onto her back and stretched with a yawn, brows knitting together at the cool morning breeze. But the memory of the night before made her tired blue eyes snap open. She didn’t even need to look down at herself to know that she was bare from the waist down under the blanket— though her tank top was loose enough that it may as well have been hanging off of her.

She leaned up on her elbows and her cheeks flamed up instantly as memories of last night came flooding back to her. Margo’s hands and mouth on her, the words she used to ease her towards her release— it hadn’t been some juvenile wet dream. Her clothes were still in a pile beside her just as she recalled. And Margo—

Margo was still passed out on Sophie’s other side. Her makeup was slightly smudged from sleep and her hair was a tangled mess, but she still looked beautifully peaceful lying on her side, using her own bent arm as a pillow. Sophie bit her lip as her eyes trailed down to Margo’s bare torso, remembering how she had craved the feel of her skin on hers after she came, and the brunette had delivered by removing her blouse and pulling Sophie against her. Falling asleep in the warm crook of Margo’s neck was the last thing she remembered. Between the exhaustion of the last few days and the intensity of the best orgasm she had ever had, apparently she slept through the night from there.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, bringing a hand up to cover her face. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Margo probably thought she was selfish as hell. Then again, Sophie had zero confidence in her ability to please the older woman, so maybe it was for the best that she didn’t even try. Shaking the thought from her head, she slowly sat up, keeping herself covered up with the blanket as she carefully crawled the short distance to the head of the truck bed for her suitcase.

Sitting up on her knees, she quietly cursed the hard-cased luggage and its tough metal snaps when they clicked open just loudly enough to make Margo stir beside her. Sophie still needed to find something to put on, so she didn’t even bother trying to hide or lie back down so she could pretend to still be asleep.

“Hey,” Margo’s voice was thick and raspy from sleep as she leaned up on her elbow.

“Hi,” Sophie turned to face her with a hint of a smile and her face still a deep shade of pink as she rummaged through her suitcase, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Margo just waved her off nonchalantly before she stretched her limbs out with a satisfied groan that made Sophie press her legs tightly together. “I can tell I’m gettin’ old. I used to pass out in the bathtub at parties and wake up fine. Now I feel like shit after a few sips of tequila and sleepin’ in the truck,” she sighed with a shake of her head, wiping away the makeup smudges that she knew were staining the space under her eyelids.

“You’re not old,” the blonde let out a quiet giggle, managing to pull a few garments from her suitcase.

Margo snorted a light laugh as she sat up with a bit of a struggle. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Boston.”

Sophie tried not to stare when Margo stretched her back out with her arms held high, but it was hard not to when the older woman was so unashamedly topless with her nipples taut and stiff from the mild morning air. “I’m, um…I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she murmured, averting her eyes when her voice caught Margo’s attention.

“Thought we were done with the unnecessary apologies,” Margo slumped against the side of the truck bed, blue eyes shining with mischief.

“It’s not unnecessary,” Sophie flushed looking down at the woven blanket that covered her lower half, “You didn’t get to…y’know.”

Margo’s lips curled into a sly grin as she pulled herself off the siding, twisting onto her knees so she could cross the short distance between them, entering Sophie’s orbit with warm hands cupping her pink tinted cheeks. “Baby, seein’ you let yourself go, takin’ what you want…fuck, Soph. I’m pretty sure I came just from that.”

Her face was burning under Margo’s touch. “You don’t mean that,” she laughed lightly with avoidant eyes.

“The hell, I don’t,” Margo scoffed, running her hands from Sophie’s face down to her arms, squeezing her biceps gently as she looked her up and down, “The way you would shiver when I called you a good girl…the noises you made when you came in my mouth—“

“Oh my god, stop,” Sophie laughed pitifully through a whine, bringing her hands up to cover her face. She could hear Margo laughing too. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Well, you better get used to it or get over it, baby,” the older woman’s slender fingers wrapped around her wrists so she could pull her hands away from her face, “Cause you’re mine now.”

Sophie managed to meet her eyes, despite her humiliation. The mischief still glinted in her eyes, but there was something else there. Something Sophie couldn’t quite place. But instead of trying to figure out, her eyes fell to her smirking lips before she leaned up to kiss them slowly. She fought back the demons that tried to remind her that this was temporary— that she was only Margo’s until they reached California. She couldn’t get comfortable with the idea when ‘goodbye’ was just around the corner.

She pressed her lips harder against Margo’s, wanting the distraction from the plaguing thoughts of having to leave her again. It took such a toll on her the first time when she was sure that the way she felt about Margo was one-sided. Something told her it was going to be a hundred times worse now that she knew that Margo actually felt the same way about her. Desperate to forget their inevitable separation, Sophie’s hands moved from their resting spot on Margo’s hips to her abdomen, soaking in the warmth of her skin through her palms. She felt the older woman’s muscles flutter under her fingers as they gently raked against her ribcage— using that and Margo’s pleasured noise of approval as motivation to slide her palms over her full breasts. Margo smiled with a hum against her lips, but pulled back slowly, taking Sophie’s hands in her own.

“We should get goin’,” she whispered with one last slow but chaste kiss.

Sophie pouted and watched her retrieve her own suitcase to find something to wear, loving how her tanned skin glowed in the morning sunlight. “But—“

“Patience. All in good time, babygirl,” Margo just winked at her, throwing a tank top on much to the blonde’s disappointment.

“Patience” proved to be a lot harder than Sophie thought. She didn’t know what changed, but as the day went on, she found herself craving Margo more and more. Her cheeks flushed deeply when the older woman did something as minuscule as lean over the jukebox at the diner they stopped at for breakfast. Margo’s manicured fingernails distractedly drew circles around her thighs while she drove and chatted about what they had to look forward to in Las Vegas, making Sophie feel like her whole body was on fire.

She’d never felt this way before. She never necessarily enjoyed sex. With Graham, it felt like a chore she had to check off of a to-do list— something she was just happy to get over with. But she never craved it. She never replayed it over and over in her head to a point where she felt the need to squeeze her legs together to dissipate the tension that it caused. The desperate want made her feel dirty, but she quickly realized that those judgemental thoughts about herself were coming to her in her mother’s voice— making her wonder if she really felt that way or if she just thought she should. And she didn’t know how to figure out the difference.

When Sophie took the wheel after they stopped for dinner in Holbrook, Margo stretched comfortably across the bench seat, leaning her back against the passenger door with her toned calves perched on Sophie’s lap. Sophie held tight to the steering wheel as her throat tightened up, trying to stay focused on the road instead of the weight of slender legs on top of hers— skin on heated skin. Part of her wanted to keep driving until she couldn’t stop. But a bigger, stronger part of her wanted to stop for the night and hoped that Margo wanted her just as badly and she was just an expert at hiding it.

“Looks like there’s a kitschy little motel a few exits up,” the brunette pointed out after they passed a sign for upcoming lodging options.

“Mind reader,” Sophie whispered to herself with a small smile and a shake of her head.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” she straightened up in her seat, clearing her throat, “We can stop there for the night if you want.”

Margo just stretched again and removed her legs from Sophie’s lap. “Works for me, babygirl.”

The pet name made warmth spread through Sophie’s veins, comforting her after she was left cold with the loss of skin contact. But she kept her face neutral as she flipped the turn signal to take the exit, following the signs for the motel with a quiet sigh of relief. She knew that stopping for the night also bought them more time before they reached California— something she wanted to prolong as much as she could. She couldn’t bring herself to think about what would happen once they crossed into the Golden State. As far as she knew, Margo still thought that she would be dropping her off with some mysterious brother in San Francisco. What was going to happen when they got there? How was Sophie going to explain the lie she’d been carrying with her for two weeks? Would Margo let her go with her to Los Angeles instead?

Shaking the fear of the unknown away, Sophie pulled into a parking spot, ready to get out and follow her in and put on her act as Margo’s terminal little sister. But as she unbuckled her seatbelt, Margo’s hand on her thigh stopped her from going anywhere. “Stay here,” the older woman instructed firmly, but with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Why?”

“Just stay here. I’ll be right back,” Margo said again. Sophie was going to ask for elaboration, but Margo leaned across the small space for a quick kiss before she practically leapt out of the passenger seat with her purse slung over her shoulder.

Through the windshield, Sophie watched her strut into the building with all the confidence in the world. Meanwhile, she sat in the truck, confused, but she trusted that whatever Margo had planned, she would handle it. She sighed to herself as she slumped back in the driver’s seat, raking blonde hair back from her damp forehead. New England was never hot after sunset, even in the summer. She remembered the summer she spent at camp on Lake Winnipesaukee and even then, they were bundled up in blankets around the campfire at night.

But Sophie knew that her skin was heated from more than just the Arizona temperature. Margo’s words from last night had been on her mind all day— the praise and verbal affection that made her toes curl. She bit down hard on her lip when she thought about the older woman’s skilled hands and mouth taking her to heights she’d never reached before. On the one hand, she was terrified of Margo and the power she had over her. But on the other, Sophie wanted to reach those heights all over again, free, unashamed, and completely under Margo’s spell.

Heels clicked on the pavement outside, signaling the brunette’s return. “Room 24,” she grinned proudly as she slid back into the passenger seat, dangling the room key on a rabbit’s foot keychain.

Sophie just nodded and put the truck in reverse, driving it the short distance to their room. Once they were in, Margo plopped down onto the bed with an exasperated sigh. “You gettin’ sick of motels?” she asked quietly as Sophie laid beside her, “I love the freedom of the open road and all, but sometimes I get so sick of movin’ from one place to the next, y’know?”

Sophie wasn’t sure how to answer. Yeah, part of her was getting tired of going from motel to motel, living off fast food and cheap diner coffee, and seeing nothing but flat, dry land in between. But she would do this forever if she got to stay with Margo. She’d stay at every shady motel in the country if she was around. So it was tough to say if she agreed or not. “I guess so,” she mumbled as she turned to lie on her side. Margo’s fingers, decorated with rings, were tracing the nonsensical pattern on the old bedspread. Goosebumps rose on her skin when she thought about those patterns being traced on every inch of her body by those same talented fingers.

“Y’know…” Margo started, propping her head up on her elbow and raising her eyes to meet Sophie’s, “I think runnin’ into you just might be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat at her words, lips falling open as she tried to form a response. She wanted to call her crazy, tell her that there was no way that running into her was the best thing that ever happened to her. Margo was so experienced, and she lived such a thrilling life. How could it be possible that she made anything better for her? But she didn’t question it. Even if it was an exaggeration, she could see the sincerity in Margo’s eyes. “Me too,” she whispered with a smile, feeling her face heat up when manicured fingers raked loose hair from her forehead.

Margo responded with just a smile of her own, keeping her fingertips at Sophie’s hairline. The blonde could hear her heart beating in her ears as her vision tunnelled, finding her focus solely on Margo’s face as it inched closer to hers. Before she knew it, soft lips were on hers for what felt like the first time. Her eyelids fluttered closed when she kissed her back, unconsciously leaning in closer. She could feel Margo’s lips curl into a smirk against hers when she tentatively placed a hand on her hip, and the older woman swiftly rolled them over until she was hovering over her. Sophie felt like all the air was being pulled from her lungs, leaving her gasping against Margo’s lips.

The older woman just moved her lips to her jaw, peppering her hot skin with slow kisses while Sophie tried to catch her breath. The room was quiet, save for the sound of lips on skin, labored breathing, and the rusting of old linen sheets. Sophie boldly placed her hands on Margo’s hips, dragging her tank top up her sides with trembling palms on her skin. Margo released a breathy noise that nearly made Sophie retract her hands in surprise— but instead she gently clawed at her ribcage, leaving pink streaks behind as she greedily got a proper feel of her.

Margo pulled back, sitting up in a straddle over Sophie’s waist, crossing her arms over her torso to tug the tank top up and over her head. Sophie lay breathlessly watching as the shirt was discarded carelessly in her peripheral, but her eyes were glued to Margo’s. The fire behind those intense blue eyes had her thighs clenching together, and all she wanted was to feel that new expanse of bare skin on hers.

Either Margo read her mind like she usually did or she wanted the same thing just as badly since she leaned back down, capturing Sophie’s lips with her own and reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. The blonde leaned up on her elbows, only breaking the feverish kiss when the cotton briefly invaded the space between them. Margo, as eager as she seemed, was slow and deliberate. She teased her polished fingernails under the straps of the plain white bra Sophie had on— making sure that every inch of her pale skin was covered in goosebumps before undoing the clasp in the back. Sophie’s lips never left hers as the material slid down her arms before it was tossed over the edge of the bed.

When Margo eased her onto her back again, Sophie could barely suppress the gasping noise of relief that tumbled from her lips when Margo’s breasts pressed against hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the older woman, holding her close with a desperation she’d never felt before. Having Margo this close to her felt like a lifeline, and she would cease to exist if she let her go.

“God, you’re perfect,” Margo whispered against her neck, smugly grinning at how responsive Sophie was.

Sophie just breathed raggedly with her eyes shut tight as she tried not to press herself up and against Margo as desperately as her body wanted to. “Please—“ she whispered thickly. Margo was already kissing a wet trail across her collarbone, slowly pressing her lips down the valley at the center of her chest. She could probably feel how hard her heart was beating against her lips— and Sophie would have been more embarrassed about being so nervous if Margo hadn’t erased every single thought from her head when she lapped her tongue over a nipple before pulling it between her lips. The blonde cried out at the feeling with her mouth agape and her head thrown back against the old comforter. Her back arched on its own when Margo’s hand found her other breast, giving it the same level of care and attention. “Oh my god,” Sophie panted, feeling lightheaded with desire.

Margo just hummed knowingly against her chest, wasting no time in sucking her other nipple into her mouth while her thumb soothed over the used, rosy skin of the first. She picked her head up after a few moments, pressing her lips to Sophie’s once more. It was fervent and needy, but Sophie was still frozen in place, not touching any other part of Margo’s body in fear of doing something wrong, though she was content with the feverish kisses between them.

The brunette’s hand dragged down Sophie’s chest, dipping under the waistband of her synthetic gym shorts from high school until her warm fingertips were pressed against the dampened cotton between her thighs. Sophie’s legs fell apart on their own as she instinctively rocked her hips up for more. She managed to bring her hands from where they were clinging to her back around to her abdomen, easing them into what little space there was between them and settling them just below Margo’s breasts, not feeling bold enough to touch them just yet. Desperate for breath, Margo broke the kiss and buried her face in the crook of Sophie’s neck, nipping at her heated skin.

“You’re always so wet and ready for me,” she whispered heavily, “My sweet girl.”

Sophie shivered with a pitiful whimper at being claimed by her. She loved being Margo’s. Despite having a bit of shame lingering behind the cloud of arousal in her mind, she found herself wondering if there was anything she wouldn’t do to hear Margo say she was hers every day. Only, she didn’t want to just be Margo’s. She wanted Margo to be hers too. She mustered up the courage to inch her hands higher until her hands were full of Margo’s breasts, making the older woman gasp delightedly against her ear. Sophie remembered the night before, how attentive Margo was to her, and how she read her body like a book. There was no way that Sophie would be able to confidently reciprocate the pleasure she received last night, but the sharp intake of breath in her ear gave her the motivation to try.

“Wait…” she muttered, forcing her hips back down to the mattress to stop them from rolling against her fingers.

Margo lifted her head from the curve of her neck, gazing down at her in confusion. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Sophie panted through swollen lips, “I just wanna…um…repay you for last night.” She winced at how it sounded coming out of her mouth: like it was a business transaction and she had left Margo with an IOU.

But Margo just laughed and kissed her slowly. “You’re cute, Boston.”

“I’m serious,” the blonde’s face scrunched up in a pout when she pulled away.

“Oh, I know you are,” she kissed her again, “But you’re gonna have to show me how serious, otherwise I’m gonna keep tryin’ to get those pretty little noises out of you.” She emphasized her point by pressing her fingers against Sophie’s clit through the ruined cotton, making her release a meek cry as an example before she kissed her deeply again.

Sophie’s hips rolled into her touch again involuntarily, but she bravely moved her hands to Margo’s breasts again, lightly pinching her taut nipples between her fingers while her tongue dragged against hers. Margo’s fingers teasing her through her panties was making her just desperate enough to rid herself of that last shred of shame left in her mind. Her blunt nails raked down the older woman’s torso until they reached the belt loops on her high waisted denim shorts, fumbling for the brass button holding them together. Soon enough, Margo had shimmied the shorts off of her legs, leaving her in just a lacy thong when Sophie sat up beneath her.

Perched in her lap, Margo cupped her cheek with one hand while the other reached for one of Sophie’s, giving her a little nudge in the right direction. She guided her hand between her legs before leaving her to figure it out for herself. “Go on, baby,” she whispered, sultry and warm against her lips.

Sophie moved on instinct, though her hands trembled. Her fingers found their way under the slim waistband of Margo’s thong, brushing through the trimmed patch of curls until they found her firm, wet clit. Margo gasped and bucked her hips at the touch, giving Sophie the encouragement she needed to continue. As unsure and inexperienced as she was, Sophie was learning that Margo was just as sensitive as herself. She was satisfied with just being touched, it didn’t matter how or where. Breaking the deep kiss with a gasp, the blonde explored the new territory with curious fingers as she kissed Margo’s neck. The brunette’s breath was heavy as she let little moans and groans fall from her lips— much different from her own airy mewls and whimpers, but no less clear in communicating her want.

“Oh, fuck, just like that. Right there,” Margo breathed hotly against her ear, grinding herself down on her hand.

With the heel of her palm against Margo’s clit, slender fingers found her slick entrance, and Sophie just toyed with the thick arousal that was pooled there. The way Margo was rocking against her lap, she was almost positive about what she wanted from her, and she felt so proud of herself for being able to read her body language when the timid finger she slipped inside had Margo moaning.

“More…please, baby,” the brunette panted with arms wrapped around her possessively. The sound of her begging was so intoxicating, as foreign as it was to Sophie. But she added a finger obediently, soaking up the sound of Margo’s moans and the way her walls clenched around her fingers.

Sophie moved in time with the encouraging rocking of her hips, feeling wetness seeping down to her wrist with each curl of her fingers. She could barely keep her breathing steady, but she turned to catch Margo’s lips again when she began to give her more.

The brunette was falling apart above her, breathless as she kissed her. Margo’s hands held Sophie’s face as she ground her hips into her lap, taking her fingers deeper with a low purr. “Fuck, I’m coming, Sophie. I’m coming, baby, don’t stop,” she groaned against her lips, losing the controlled rhythm of her hips as she chased the orgasm Sophie was so desperate to give her.

Within a few moments, after a couple more curls of her fingers, Margo’s breath caught and her body tensed, squeezing around them tightly as she came. Her release was accompanied by a noisy moan and a string of obscenities while her limbs became loose and heavy against Sophie. She panted as her body shook with the aftershocks, and Sophie was just as speechless as ever— in awe that she had just made Margo Banks come undone.

Their breathless kisses slowed, leaving Sophie in a cloudy haze of her own arousal while Margo recovered.

The older woman pulled back gently with a satisfied smile. “Seems like you’ve done that before,” she panted, still short of breath and perched on top of her.

Sophie just blushed furiously and shook her head. “Just to myself,” she blurted without thinking, but she couldn’t even regret it when Margo just bit her lip and looked at her like she would love to watch her do just that.

Margo hummed contently, lifting her hips just enough for Sophie to pull her sodden fingers from under her thong. If the younger woman wasn’t outrageously horny already, the sight of Margo taking her fingers between her lips would have done the trick. The brunette kept intense eye contact with her as she licked her own arousal from Sophie’s fingers, making her breath catch in her throat as her vision blurred.

Without a word, Margo knelt to the floor and tugged at Sophie’s hips to bring her towards the edge of the bed, impatiently pulling her shorts and underwear down in one go just like the night before. Even if she wanted to object, Sophie didn’t have the time to get a word in before arms were looped around her thighs and dark, sandy hair was buried between them. She gave a stiff cry as Margo’s lips immediately found her clit, digging her fingers into her hair as her head bobbed below her. Margo sucked and licked and ate her out like she was starving and desperate for just a taste of her. Sophie had never felt so adored before. Margo held tightly to her thighs and kept her close with one hand while the other curled relentlessly into her, coaxing noise after pitiful noise from Sophie’s throat.

“Margo—“ she gasped, falling back against the mattress weakly when she began to climb to the peak. “Fuck, Margo, I—“ she gasped with another breathy, desperate noise, arching her back as she tried to get herself closer.

“Come for me, babygirl. Show me you’re all mine,” Margo’s voice was muffled from between her thighs, hot breath against wet skin making Sophie twitch.

“Yours,” she nodded, chasing her release with desperation. The word nearly fell from her lips once more, but it was quickly replaced with a loud moan as she came. She practically sobbed through it, feeling like her body was evaporating into thin air. Margo slowed down just enough to not overwhelm her, but she didn’t stop. Sophie’s hips bucked as she brought her over the edge again, dripping into her hand almost instantly after she barely recovered from the first one.

“Good girl,” Margo purred against her, slowly stilling her fingers and pressing soothing kisses to less sensitive places before lying beside her on the bed. Sophie was still panting, whimpering through her shudders as she curled into the comfort of Margo’s arms. The feeling of warm skin against hers was just what she needed to ground herself. Her racing thoughts quieted and her muscles loosened, finding peace in the warmth of Margo’s embrace. Manicured nails were raking against her scalp, rhythmic and soothing as she floated down from a cloud.

Once her breathing evened out, she just picked her head up, giving Margo a sleepy smile before kissing her lips gently, slow and lazy, but no less passionate. She felt herself being lifted and adjusted until the stiff linen sheets blanketed over them. “We gotta work on your stamina,” Margo joked quietly, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Mm,” Sophie just mumbled, half asleep tucked against her. “How come I couldn’t come check in with you?” she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with a yawn. The question had been on her mind since they arrived.

Margo just snorted and shook her head, brushing Sophie’s hair back from her forehead. “Well, knowin’ how loud you can get, I didn’t wanna risk gettin’ a noise complaint if the people runnin’ this place think you’re my diseased little sister.”

Sophie just blushed in the dark and hid her face in Margo’s neck, “I hate you,” she groaned with a heavy yawn.

“Whatever you say, babygirl.”

Chapter Text

“I spy with my little eye something…” Sophie looked around, tapping her chin in deep thought, “…red.”

Margo just shook her head, giving a low chuckle at the childish game of I Spy that they’d already been playing for a few rounds. “The truck?”

“Nope.”

“Uhhh…” she glanced around but kept her eyes mainly on the road ahead, “Your bracelet?”

“Nuh-uh.”

The older woman smirked, reaching across the bench to poke at the hickey she left on Sophie’s thigh the night before. “Is it this?”

“No!” Sophie laughed and covered her face as her cheeks quickly turned bright pink, shielding herself from the afternoon wind that was flowing into the truck from the open window.

“You sure?” Margo traced a circle around the hickey just under the hem of her shorts, earning a playful slap to her hand. “How ‘bout that stop sign?” she breathed a laugh, nodding towards the upcoming intersection on their way back to the highway.

Sophie shook her head. “How are you not getting it? It’s so easy.”

“Well then I give up, what is it?”

“Your nails,” Sophie giggled, holding Margo’s own hand up for her to see as she slowed down for the stop sign.

Margo rolled her eyes with playful annoyance, ready to shoot back a smart remark. But the sound of police sirens and flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror caught her attention before she could even think to respond. “Shit,” she sighed, pulling off to the side of the road.

Sophie straightened her posture, watching the police officer in the side mirror as he approached the truck from behind once they were stopped. She suddenly felt her heart in her throat and sweat formed on her palms. She could hear the heavy footsteps outside the windows as the man got closer at an eerily slow speed.

“Afternoon, officer,” Margo pulled up her sunglasses to flash him a pearly white grin. As nervous as she was. Sophie had no doubt that the brunette knew how to charm her way out of this situation with ease.

“License and registration, please, ma’am,” he deadpanned from outside the driver’s side window.

“Of course,” she nodded. When she turned towards the glove box to retrieve the truck’s registration paperwork, she caught Sophie’s gaze quickly. Sophie recognized the look in her eyes. It was the same look Margo gave her when she wanted her to just play along and let her do all the talking. “Is there a problem? I don’t believe I was speedin’,” she smiled after handing him the documents, her accent getting thicker as she laid on the charm.

“You rolled that stop sign back there.” He raised his own reflective sunglasses to look at her license, squinting in the Arizona sun to gather her details. “Amanda Burkett?”

Margo noticeably stiffened, but smiled nevertheless with a nod. “That’s me.”

Sophie’s brow wrinkled in confusion, but she kept quiet.

“You’re a long way from Alba, Texas,” he commented.

“Oh, y’know, just takin’ a little girl's trip,” she shrugged with an innocent smile.

He glanced up momentarily and met Sophie’s eyes. The blonde panicked a bit and averted her gaze as nonchalantly as she could, swallowing hard as she felt a chill run down her spine. The police officer kept his eyes on her as he began to round the front of the truck, coming to a stop at the passenger side, right outside Sophie’s open window. “Step out of the vehicle for me, miss.”

Sophie opened her mouth to question his demand, but Margo leaned over the bench to speak to him again. “Sir, with all due respect, can I ask why that’s necessary?”

“Cause your friend here matches the description of someone we’ve been lookin’ for,” he opened the door from the outside and Sophie had no choice but to comply even though her legs felt like jelly the second her feet hit the ground. She stood as still and silent as she could as the man looked her up and down. “Tell me your name, please?”

“Sir, this is my baby sister,” Margo materialized by her side next to the truck before she could even try to respond, “Her name’s Grace.”

“Pretty sure I asked her,” he glared daggers over at her before his eyes returned to Sophie.

“Well, she can’t answer you. She can’t talk,” Margo crossed her arms over her chest, “She’s got a lung condition that messed up her vocal chords when we were kids and we’re headin’ to Seattle to meet with a specialist.”

Sophie was frozen solid as Margo fed the cop lie after lie, just praying that he was as gullible as the motel receptionists they’d encountered over the past week had been.

“You’re headed in a strange direction if you’re driving from Texas to Seattle,” he raised an eyebrow at her.

Margo looked at Sophie with sad eyes, stepping closer to wrap around her shoulder. “Oh, honey, you’re shakin’,” she whispered, her voice dripping with concern as Sophie looked up at her curiously. “You’re not in trouble, I’ll take care of it, okay?” Sophie just nodded, wondering where Margo was planning on going with this performance as her protective older sister. Thankfully, she knew how to play off of Sophie’s genuine reactions. “Can she get back in the truck, please? I’ll stay out here and explain things to you all day, but please just let her sit in the truck. Her condition gets worse when she’s nervous. Please.”

Sophie looked between Margo’s pleading blue eyes and the officer in front of them, trembling where she stood. The man just sighed and nodded, much to her surprise, and she allowed Margo to usher her back into the truck. “Deep breaths, okay? Just like the doctor said,” the older woman kissed her forehead and rolled up her window before she closed the door between them.

“Officer…Hammond,” Margo sighed, looking at his badge, “This surgery she’s havin’…her doctors told me she might not…” she let her already quiet voice falter as her eyes welled up with performative tears, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as if she was trying to hold back sobs. If Sophie weren’t so shaken up, she would have been laughing to herself at what she could hear through the glass window. “Gracie, she…she’s always wanted to see California. That’s why we’re headed this way.”

The man in front of her stood stiffly, watching her every move.

“She don’t know that her chances are as low as they are,” her voice lowered into a melancholic whisper, “I told her we’d have a whole road trip and see California before we get to Seattle. Please, I’m just tryin’ to do this for my sister while I still have her. I’ll pay whatever fine I have to for runnin’ that sign, but you’ve got the wrong girl, I swear. Please.”

Sophie could hear bits and pieces of her whispers through the window, but she tried not to look in their direction.

“All right, look. I’ll let you off with a warning. But your sister’s a dead ringer for this missing girl from Boston, so don’t be surprised if you get questions from anyone else,” he handed Margo her documents back and pulled his sunglasses back over his eyes.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Thank you so much,” She nodded and shook his hand firmly after wiping a forced tear from her cheek.

“You girls be safe,” he tipped his hat at her before starting to walk back to his car.

“Sir?” Margo turned on her heel to face him again, squinting in the bright sun, “What happened to her?”

“Pardon?”

“The girl you were talkin’ about…from Boston.”

“No one knows. Some think she was abducted, some think she shot her husband and fled the scene,” he shrugged.

Margo let her jaw go slack in feigned surprise as a hand came up to cover her heart. “Goodness, well then you really have the wrong girl. Gracie wouldn’t hurt a fly, she definitely wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“Well, I hear the poor guy’s hanging by a thread on life support, so whoever it was that shot him, they didn’t kill him.”

Sophie’s blood turned to ice when she heard his muffled voice from behind the truck. She felt bile rising in her throat and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Graham was alive?

“Oh. Well, thank god for that. We’ll keep them in our prayers,” Margo forced a smile onto her face, “You, as well, Officer Hammond.”

Sophie felt like the walls of the truck were closing in on her. She knew she needed to stay put. She knew she couldn’t open the door and throw up onto the grassy shoulder, especially not with the police officer still right behind them. She brought her knees to her chest, holding them close as she curled up in the passenger seat.

Margo reappeared in the seat beside her, knowing that Sophie heard everything and was starting to panic. But without a word, the older woman nonchalantly revved the truck engine and peeled back onto the road, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror after each random turn she took. Pulling into one of the overflow parking spaces at the edge of a strip mall, she threw the truck into park and reached for Sophie. “C’mere,” she whispered, taking the shell shocked blonde into her arms. She was shaking like a leaf, worse than Margo had ever seen before— and she’d calmed Sophie down after a fair share of panic attacks over the last week.

The younger woman was frozen, feeling like she was unable to move a muscle aside from the involuntary trembling. Graham was alive. She hadn’t killed him with that single gunshot. Part of her was relieved that she wasn’t a murderer after all, but there was a bigger part of her that wondered what was going to happen to her now. She was a wanted criminal. Even if she hadn’t killed him, she still shot him and ran away with his gun. And now, if what the police officer had heard was true, he was alive. Barely. But he would be looking for her soon if he survived. And if he didn’t survive…

“Let’s stop somewhere for the night, okay?” Margo asked gently after a few minutes of silence between them, “Next place we see, we’ll get a room, order in some dinner, and just…take a break. Just us. You and me.”

Sophie could barely hear her over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. She felt like she was drowning, but she held tightly to Margo’s hand like it was the only thing keeping her afloat despite how badly she wanted to sink. Her other hand came up carefully to wipe the tears that Sophie didn’t even realize had been falling. She didn’t know how she was still managing to breathe on her own. Everything just felt numb like her body was shutting down. Dots speckled her blurred vision, anything that didn’t feel numb felt ice cold, and she only realized that she was biting her thumbnail down to the root when Margo pulled it away from her lips.

“I—“ she managed to get out, though she wasn’t even sure of what she was intending to say. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do?

Margo held her face in both hands now. Sophie kept a hold on one of them by her face, still needing that lifeline. Chanel and Newport Lights burned their way through her senses, providing her a sense of familiarity and safety that managed to calm her nerves for just a moment. In that split second it was just her and Margo— no tragic backstories, no lies, no running. Just them and an innocent kismet that brought them together.

“Sophie, listen to me,” Margo’s whisper somehow reached her ears, grabbing her attention so much that she even managed to get her to look her in the eye. “No matter what happens, you’re safe with me. You understand?”

The blonde managed a stiff nod, though her words barely registered.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, okay? I promise.” Margo’s forehead met with hers as she kept her hands comfortably at the sides of her face.

With every bit of strength she could put into her quaking hands, Sophie blindly reached for Margo’s fingers, looping her pinky around hers. As immature as it may have been, she put more trust in those pinky promises between them than anything else. It had only been a week, but Margo hadn’t broken one yet.

“God, you’re freezin’,” she breathed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm her up. Somehow Sophie’s body had truly turned to ice even in the Arizona heat. Goosebumps covered every inch of skin she could see and she was pale as a ghost, like all the blood that was keeping her warm and alive had drained from her completely. “Next place we see, we’ll stop, okay? Even if it’s a Four Seasons and all they got left is the presidential suite.” Her lighthearted comment didn’t make anything any better— not that she expected it to.

Sophie had calmed down just enough for Margo to feel like she could take her eyes off of her so she could drive. Thankfully, the closest lodging was just down the road. A Holiday Inn. Nicer than they were used to, but definitely not the Four Seasons. She sat stiffly in the truck while Margo went into the lobby to ask for a room, not questioning it this time; even though she was sure that her reasoning wasn’t the same as yesterday’s.

They found their room not long after Margo got the key card. It felt weird staying at an actual hotel, riding an elevator to their floor, roaming quiet empty hallways until they found their room— but it was clean, cozy, and all theirs. Even the bathtub looked trustworthy enough to soak in without having to worry about catching some kind of parasitic infection.

As soon as they got in, she ran a bath for Sophie. The blonde was practically catatonic as Margo peeled the clothes off her clammy skin with care. Sophie was normally shy about her body, but she didn’t even bat an eye when she was stripped bare and lowered into the warm bath water. Her eyes stayed glazed over and unfocused as she remained lost in her own head. Margo just knelt beside the tub, brushing blonde strands off of Sophie’s bare shoulder. She needed to call Kyle privately, but she wasn’t confident in the idea of leaving the younger woman alone like this— not when she didn’t even seem aware of her surroundings.

Her shivering had stopped, at least. Margo cupped the warm water onto Sophie’s skin, letting the heat soothe her stiff muscles. Soon, she was getting some color back to her skin, her breathing wasn’t so labored, and she seemed to be coming back to herself. Unfortunately, that meant she was back to being aware of the situation that had been sprung on her. Tears fell from her eyes and straight into the water as it began to run cold, but she still didn’t speak. Margo did everything she could to make sure Sophie knew that she wasn’t alone, both physically and emotionally. But the blonde seemed just as distant despite being more conscious, making Margo wonder if she even wanted comfort from her right now.

“You want some privacy?” she asked quietly, feeling her heart nearly rip in half at the small nod she got in return. But she didn’t let it show that it broke her. She just nodded and stood up from where she’d been kneeling on the tile for the last thirty minutes, letting Sophie know that she would just be in the next room.

Closing the bathroom door behind her, Margo just leaned back against it and brought a hand to her face, covering her eyes as she tried to keep herself together. She needed to stay strong for Sophie, just like she’d been strong for everyone else in her life. She pushed herself off the door with a deep breath and sat on the edge of the queen sized bed, immediately picking up the phone to call her brother.

”Hello?” he answered after a few rings.

“Kyle?” she kept her voice down when he answered, “I dunno what to do.”

”Must be serious. You always know what to do.”

“Not this time,” she let her head fall into her hand again, “The girl I told you about last week…she’s in deep shit. And I gotta help her, but I dunno how.”

”How deep are we talkin’?”

“Like…she could end up facin’ a prison sentence deep.”

”Shit.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “She told me she’s headed to San Francisco to meet up with some brother of hers, but…I don’t think that’s the truth, so…I wanna take her with me to L.A.”

”Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? You need to get rid’a her! Kick her to the curb! Last thing we need is more trouble followin’ us around. ‘Specially trouble that’s got nothin’ to do with us.”

Her world stopped turning at the very notion. As much as she hated it, she knew that he was right. “No. No, I can’t do that to her. I won’t, Kyle.

”God, tell me you didn’t get yourself attached to a fuckin’ hitchhiker.

She was quiet in response. He already knew the answer.

”Goddammit, Mandy,” he groaned in her ear.

“I know, I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. I really fuckin’ fucked up. You think I expected this to happen?”

“Look, just…just get here in one piece and we’ll figure it out. But don’t go tryin’ to be a hero or nothin’ if whatever shit she’s in gets outta hand. That ain’t our problem.”

“I promised her I’d protect her.”

”Well, just don’t forget that when someone’s drownin’, they can pull you under with’em real fast.”

She tightened her jaw, turning towards the bathroom door to listen for any sign of movement from Sophie.

”When you gettin’ here? Thought you’d be here over three days ago.”

“By the end of the week, maybe. I wanna stop over in Vegas on the way to make a little extra before I get there,” she said quietly into the receiver, hearing a bit of light splashing from behind the door, “I gotta go.”

”Be smart, sis.”

She hung up the phone without another word and covered her face with her palms, breathing deeply against them a few times until she felt like she could put on the act of being calm, cool, and collected. Standing to her feet, she padded to the bathroom door again and knocked gently. “You doin’ all right, hon?” she offered Sophie a warm smile when she let herself in. The water had turned soapy and her hair was wet, which told Margo that she’d managed to get herself cleaned up.

“Who’s Amanda?” Sophie’s voice was quiet but hoarse as she still failed to meet her eyes.

Margo nearly flinched at the question as she grabbed a towel for her. If she wanted to keep her around and keep her safe, she needed to tell her the truth. And the truth started with Mandy. “It’s…my real name. Mandy, actually. Only ever got called Amanda when I was in trouble,” she tried to pepper her explanation with a light laugh, but Sophie looked just as confused where she sat still in the water. “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ll explain everythin’.”

Sophie accepted her help getting out of the bath and let her wrap her in a towel. Only briefly did her tired blue eyes meet hers before she stepped out of the bathroom to throw on a large t-shirt for the night. The sun was still up, but she had no plans to go anywhere.

Margo grabbed the hairbrush out of her suitcase and crawled up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged against the pillows. “C’mere,” she patted the spot in front of her, smiling slightly when Sophie sat on the bed in front of her with no hesitation. She guided her to sit facing away from her, being careful and slow as she pulled damp, tangled strands from under the neck of her t-shirt.

“So…” she started with a sigh, gathering her hair in her hand and began to brush out the tangled ends gently, “Yeah. My real name’s Amanda Burkett. I told you before about how I grew up in a trailer park with my brother Kyle. Different dads that neither of us knew, and a mom that cared about when her next fix was comin’ more than how she was gonna feed her kids.”

Sophie remained quiet as she spoke and moved the brush higher in her hair once the ends were untangled.

“We were the trashy trailer park kids at school. And in a small town like Alba, everybody knew everybody’s business, so…kids at school always had somethin’ to say.” Her voice trailed off a little, but she kept her composure. “But…when your mama’s on a bender and your baby brother’s starvin’…you start doin’ whatever you can to make things better no matter what anyone has to say about it. So I spent every penny I had on makeup, clothes, and hairspray. Got pretty good at nippin’ things from the drugstore, too. Pervs around town were always cat-callin’ me anyway so…figured I could put’em to use.”

Sophie swallowed a lump in her throat at how nonchalant Margo was talking about things she had to do to survive when she was just a kid.

“Started hangin’ around gas stations, hitchin’ rides into town. Told everyone my name was Margo. Thought it sounded a lot more mature and sophisticated than Mandy,” she chuckled and shook her head at her naïve younger self, “Didn’t find out til later that I wasn’t even spellin’ it right. The fancy French way, anyway. But by then, I was stuck with it. It didn’t matter to none of’em anyway. All they saw was a desperate little girl who would do just about anything for some money.”

“How old were you?” Sophie’s strained, quiet voice caught her by surprise.

“Fifteen, probably,” Margo shrugged after a beat. By now, she was able to run the hairbrush from root to tip with no snarls to fight with, “By the time I was sixteen, I figured there was no point in turnin’ tricks at night and tryin’ to stay awake at school the next mornin’, so…I dropped out. After I made enough to get Kyle a mountain bike for Christmas, I figured what I was doin’ was way better for me than graduatin’. So I just…kept goin’. Got good money…got to travel all over once I got in with some higher-ups…made a lot of dumb mistakes, but I learned a whole lot too. Even used my connections to get Kyle the hell out of Alba while I hung back and cleaned up all the messes Mama left behind.”

Sophie turned to face her over her shoulder with sad, tired eyes and flushed cheeks. “How can you talk about…having to go through all that without crying your eyes out?” she asked just above a whisper, wiping tears from her own cheeks with a sniffle.

Margo just shrugged in response, though her shoulders slumped from the emotional weight of it all. “Just cause it happened doesn’t mean it has to define who I am,” she offered, “I didn’t wanna be Mandy from Alba for the rest of my life. We’ve only got one life to live. And after Mama died, I figured I better start makin’ my own decisions before the world makes’em for me.”

Sophie sat in silence, glancing down at her lap as she thought about Margo’s words. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

“I’m not,” Margo reached for her hands that were fidgeting in her lap, “Cause y’know what? The way I see it…everythin’ I’ve ever done has led me to right here, right now. Call me corny, but of everythin’ I’ve ever done wrong…I must’a done somethin’ right to end up runnin’ into you.”

Sophie tensed as a warmth flowed through her veins, erasing the icy chill that had been there before. But she couldn’t even bring herself to raise her head and meet Margo’s eyes, let alone give her a response. But Margo just handed her a scrunchie so she could do what she wanted with her hair and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, fixing her posture and smiling with her hands on her hips. Avoidant. “Well, I’m cravin’ pizza tonight, whatcha think?”

Chapter Text

Under the glow of the TV, barely touched pizza sat in the open box at the foot of the hotel bed and the two women sat in silence against the headboard. Sophie still hadn’t spoken much, but once she took the first sip of her soda with a few splashes of tequila, Margo noticed her tension dissolving as the minutes passed. A few random sitcoms played on TV, barely holding either of their attention. Sophie was too trapped in her own mind, and Margo couldn’t shake the worry she felt for her. She hoped that the younger woman would open up and let her in, but considering the circumstances Sophie was facing, she couldn’t even fault her for not having the energy.

She tried to get her to talk about anything. She made comments about the television programs, asked her if there was anything she wanted to do before they got to California, but Sophie always gave her the bare minimum in response. Even after they finished what was left of the stolen tequila from Texas, Sophie was quiet. The only thing that eased Margo’s worries was when the blonde rested her head against her shoulder— giving her just enough reassurance that Sophie still felt safe with her. And she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Kyle’s voice echoed in her head, telling her to leave Sophie behind, not get involved in whatever trouble she had following her. But she didn’t know how she ever could. Sophie trusted her, even though at times Margo wished that she didn’t.

The sun had set, the pizza was cold, the tequila was gone, and there was nothing good left to watch on TV. Sophie yawned beside her and Margo couldn’t help but turn and press a kiss to her blonde hair. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, moving to get up.

“Where are you going?” Sophie’s voice was tired as she watched her get up with worried blue eyes.

Margo smiled warmly, closing up the pizza box and putting it on the dresser. “Just gettin’ ready for bed, honey.” She grabbed her toiletry bag from her suitcase and only stopped to place a slow, reassuring kiss to Sophie’s lips on her way to the bathroom. The way the younger woman held onto her hand until she was physically out of reach nearly broke her heart— so much so that she had to lean against the bathroom door when she closed it behind her. What was she supposed to do? And how was she supposed to do it? Sophie had become so important to her in such a short span of time, even if she wasn’t bearing the weight of her own troubles, Margo hated to drag her into hers.

Pushing herself off the door, the brunette carried herself to the sink, trying to put all her focus on her skincare routine. Makeup remover, cleanse, moisturizer, serums. Teeth were brushed and hair was thrown up into a messy bun with one of Sophie’s scrunchies. Tired blue eyes stared back at her in the mirror. Mandy stared back at her, reminding her that she’d never escape her past. That little girl from the trailer park was still inside her; angry, scared, and begging for a semblance of security that she’d never had before. If anything, this last week with Sophie is the safest Margo had ever felt in her life, as strange as that seemed.

She finished her routine as she tried not to think about what was going to happen when they got to California or what may happen along the way. Margo Banks lived in the moment. She only worried about shit when she had to.

With a sigh and one last glance at her tired reflection, Margo turned off the light and went back into the main room where Sophie was already tucked under the covers. Her heart ached at how small and frail she looked with flushed cheeks and a pink-tipped nose. The younger woman was carrying so much and Margo just knew it had to be exhausting.

Climbing up onto the bed, the brunette made herself comfortable on one side of the bed, not reaching for Sophie like she wanted to. Instead, she waited for Sophie to come to her— which she did. Kind of. She slid closer to Margo with her hands folded and tucked under her chin. Margo just turned on her side to face her, carefully raking wispy blonde strands from her forehead.

“I wanna tell you what happened…with Graham that night,” Sophie spoke so softly that Margo almost thought she imagined it.

Breath caught in her throat, but Margo just nodded and flicked her tongue over her bare lips, watching Sophie’s jaw clench under the warm light of the bedside lamp. “Okay.”

“He…he wasn’t supposed to be home that night…”

Graham had left a few hours ago for a weekend campout on the Merrimack River. It was refreshing for Sophie to hear that for once, one of his colleagues just wanted to have a weekend doing something he loved with his friends rather than going into the city and getting wasted and kicked out of strip clubs. Sophie checked the clock again. 9:03 PM. By now, they should have had their tents pitched and a campfire going by the river.

Her parents would be turning in for the night in about an hour, which gave her plenty of time to call a cab to get to her childhood home, since Graham had taken the car.

She’d had enough. He wasn’t the man she thought he was. He was always so nice to her when they were kids, but once they reached college, he started to change. He became more demanding of her, yelling and drinking more often. She always told herself that it was just the stress of law school getting to him. He always apologized after he said mean things to her and she foolishly allowed herself to believe it each time he said it wouldn’t happen again. He begged her not to leave him, claiming that he was just stressed with school and that it would be over once he got through midterms. Then finals, his summer courses, then graduation.

Sophie was defenseless against him each time. Graham had charmed everyone around them into thinking he would never treat Sophie (or anyone) with any disrespect. He was polite and kind like he had been to her before college, but Sophie was the only one who saw the change in him. No one believed her when she said he had a temper. Friends, family, even her own parents thought that she was being dramatic when she talked about when he yelled at her. If they didn’t believe that he would yell at her, they would never believe that he would hit her.

But he did. As early as the first night of their honeymoon when she officially was bound to him, he slapped her across the face in their hotel room for a reason she couldn’t even remember. He probably didn’t even need a reason. Sometimes the only reason he needed for hitting her or shoving her against the wall was simply because he wanted to. It got worse when he drank. He got louder and more violent, like he was testing to see how much he could scare her. He told her time and time again that no one would ever believe her, then he kissed her tears away with bourbon burning on his lips, promising that it was the last time and begging on his knees for her to stay.

She hoped that the abuse would end when they found out she was pregnant. As much as she was dreading carrying his child— just another thing to keep her attached to his side— for the first few months, things were actually going well. He stopped drinking, he didn’t yell or hit her; He was gentle with her like he used to be. He would start and end each day with a kiss to her stomach. He wanted a son. He wanted to name him Jacob Elliott O’Neil, and he talked constantly about how he would raise him to love baseball so he could play for the Red Sox when he was old enough. Sophie actually loved listening to his plans for the future. They were all so bright and happy, something that she began to think that they could achieve.

But one bad day can change everything.

He came home one night, red in the face with his briefcase in one hand and half-drank six pack of beer in the other. She hadn’t even finished asking him how his day was when he began shouting in her face about dinner not being ready yet, calling her a terrible wife and how she’s going to be a terrible mother. The violence that followed throughout the night led to the miscarriage. And the miscarriage led to the emergency hysterectomy that left her with a scar on her lower abdomen as a permanent reminder of how everyone around her believed that she just fell down the stairs; Because that’s what he told them. Graham always got his way. And the fact that her own parents believed him hurt more than any punch that he could deliver.

Graham still hadn’t forgiven her for the failed pregnancy. Even if she had the guts to tell him that it was his fault, he would have just come up with a laundry list of reasons that she deserved every push and shove she endured that night before punishing her for talking back.

But that was all over now. Or it would be if she played her cards right. She had been planning it for months. Every time she went into town, she withdrew money from her savings account and stashed it away in an old box in the back of their closet until the account was empty. She told herself that once the account was drained, that’s when she would leave. And it took everything in her to not withdraw the maximum amount allowed at the ATM just to reach her goal faster.

With her suitcase stuffed with as much as it would carry, she trudged down the steps to the quaint little foyer of their house, setting it by the door. Her only hope of getting out of this was to go stay with her parents until she figured out a plan. And when Graham came to find her, they would see how he reacted when she told him no.

With her backpack in hand, she practically skipped down the stairs from their bedroom, taking a long, soothing breath before reaching for the phone to call a cab to Cambridge. But before she could even raise her hand to dial, her blood turned to ice at the sound of the front door being unlocked before the familiar sound of Graham stumbling in.

“Shit,” she whispered, quietly placing the phone back into its cradle on the wall and grabbing the broom from the corner. “Graham?” she called out as if she had just heard him come in while she was cleaning. “Hi, w-what are you doing home? Weren’t you supposed to go camping with the boys?”

Graham leaned against the wall between the kitchen and the foyer, visibly intoxicated. “Well, if you paid any fuckin’ attention…” he hiccupped and gestured towards the door, “Storm’s comin’ in. Went out for drinks instead. Tim dropped me off.”

“Oh,” Sophie nodded, trying to keep calm, wondering what to do. “Why don’t you go upstairs and go to bed?”

He rolled his eyes at her and turned around, apparently going to do just that. But as he stumbled towards the stairs, Sophie watched with her breath held in when she stopped and took notice of the suitcase and her backpack by the door. “Someone here?” he slurred, turning back to face her.

“No.”

He continued connecting the dots in his head. “You goin’ somewhere?”

She was quiet in response, unsure of how she could get away with lying at this point.

“Where you goin’?” He stepped closer to her with heavy footsteps until he was right in front of her. His breath reeked of whiskey. “Answer me.”

“T-to my parent’s,” she stammered quietly, avoiding his glassy eyes.

“For what?” He stayed uncomfortably close, starting to push her backwards as he just kept trying to enter her space. “You leavin’ me?” She remained quiet, swallowing thickly in hopes that just not saying anything would be better than trying to explain. “You think they’re gonna let you stay? You think they’re gonna believe you when you tell’em I’m a bad husband?”

“I just…need a break, Graham,” she whispered with her eyes closed.

“You need a break,” he scoffed and shook his head, “I need a fuckin’ break!” His voice rose, making her flinch. “I bust my ass all day and my goddamn ungrateful wife says she needs a break!”

She was going to respond, but he trudged out of the room towards his office, muttering nonsensically to himself. Once he was around the corner in the next room, Sophie released the breath she’d been holding and put the broom against the wall, quickly moving to grab her things. Thunder was starting to rumble outside as rain began to fall, and her chances of escape were getting slimmer by the second. She had her hand on the doorknob when she heard the foreign sound of a single click from behind her. Daring to peer over her shoulder, she saw Graham in her peripheral vision, quietly leering behind her like a ghost. When she turned to face him fully, her heart leapt to her throat as she glued her back to the door. “Graham…”

He had a gun. A gun she didn’t even know he owned. And he had it pointed at his own temple with sadness and rage in his eyes. “Don’t leave me, Sophie,” he slurred, continuing to step closer to her, “You walk out that door and I’m pulling the trigger and you’ll have no one. Everyone will blame you for what you made me do. You’ll be alone.”

“I-I’m…I’m already alone,” she managed bravely. But his arm swiftly extended, no longer holding the gun to his own head. Instead, it was pointed directly at hers.

“Go upstairs,” he growled, “Go unpack your shit, you’re not leaving.”

“Graham…please just—“ she barely got the words out before he lunged at her, one hand gripping her throat while the other held the gun to her temple. Her whole body trembled in fear as tears formed in her eyes. His whiskey scented breath and the tight hand on her throat were all she could sense. Part of her wished that he would just do it: pull the trigger and end her suffering. Whether he pulled it on her or himself, at this point it seemed like the only way she could escape him.

”You have til the count of three, Sophie. One…” he began darkly, holding the gun more firmly to her head, “Two…”

With one single shred of confidence, Sophie raised a knee to his groin before he could count to three, sending him doubling over in pain. She didn’t know how, but she managed to wrestle herself free from his grip. It was a struggle between them, and she knew that at any second, he could shoot her whether he meant to or not. But in a flash, she somehow got the gun from his sweaty hand, pointed it at him, and pulled the trigger herself. Her eyes were tightly closed, but on top of the rain hitting the roof, all she heard was the thud of him falling to the hardwood floor. With the gun still firmly in her hands, she opened her eyes, shaking in fear as she pulled the trigger again and again in his direction to no avail. The gun was empty and Graham was dead on the floor in front of her.

Sophie slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her screaming cries as she fell down to her knees, dropping the gun. She just killed her husband. Graham was dead right in front of her. This wasn’t how she wanted to escape from him. Her panicked breathing was louder than the storm outside as she tried to gather her thoughts. She couldn’t go to her parent’s house now. She didn’t know where to go or where she even could go.

But she couldn’t stay here.

Scrambling to her feet, Sophie grabbed her things, trying her hardest not to vomit from the anxiety. Once her hand reached the doorknob again, she stopped and turned back to grab the gun at Graham’s feet and stuffed it in her backpack, heading as stealthily as she could into the rain with no destination in sight.

“Oh, Sophie,” Margo swiped a thumb across Sophie’s cheek, wiping away the tears that began to fall once she finished telling her about that night. She didn’t even know what to say.

Sophie’s bottom lip trembled as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “And from there I just…kept going. And I didn’t stop until I was out of the city.”

Margo nodded understandingly and pulled her closer until she was curled against her, desperately trying to soothe her violent trembling. Hidden in the safety of her embrace, Sophie allowed herself to cry. She hated that Margo was always having to calm her down and dry her tears. Especially after the brunette just told her about her lifetime of trauma as if it were nothing. Margo was so much stronger than she could ever hope to be.

“Honey, look at me,” Margo pulled back slightly from where Sophie had left wet stains on the chest of her shirt. She cupped her cheek and wiped leftover tears away as they fell from the exhausted blue eyes that were locked on hers. She took a deep breath in, wondering how she was going to word what she wanted to ask. “Sophie, do you really have someone waitin’ for you in San Francisco?” she winced. She knew that it wasn’t true, but she wanted to hear it from Sophie herself to be sure.

But Sophie was quiet in response. Her throat bobbed and she averted her eyes.

“Whether you do or not, I’m not leavin’ you there.”

Sophie blinked back up at her with a sniffle and a wrinkle of confusion etched between her brows. “What?”

Margo just sighed, running her tongue across her bare lips. “Look, I know I didn’t exactly grow up in the Brady Bunch, but no brother would allow his baby sister to hitchhike across America. No good brother, anyway.” Sophie looked away again, her cheeks flushing more than they already had been from crying. “So…I guess I’m just askin’ so I know if I need to explain to some asshole why I don’t trust him to protect his own sister.”

A hint of a smile appeared on Sophie’s face for a moment, sending a wave of relief through the older woman. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting her face fall again.

“For what?”

“For lying,” Sophie chewed on her bottom lip, only meeting Margo’s eyes again when she gently tugged it free from between her teeth. “It was just…a—“

“A cover story. Somethin’ to keep yourself safe,” Margo nodded, finishing the sentence for her with 100% certainty. Sophie just nodded in response. “Smart thing to do, actually: lettin’ people know that someone’ll be lookin’ for you if you go missin’. Or lookin’ for them if they fuck with you.”

“I…I didn’t think that you would…”

“But you knew that I could.” Sophie was quiet as Margo rubbed her thumb along the line of her jaw. “I hope you know you’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think you are.”

Sophie’s face scrunched up at the sentiment as a few more tears fell from her eyes. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Being called strong when she felt like the weakest person on earth was overwhelming. And coming from Margo— the strongest person she knew— it meant more than she could even put into words.

She sniffled and reached up to rub her own eyes that were starting to burn from crying and exhaustion. “So what’s gonna happen? Am I…coming with you to LA?” she asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“D’you want to?” Margo whispered, smiling softly when Sophie nodded after a beat of hesitation. She responded with a slow, simple kiss. They had so much to figure out now with this new plan, but for now they basked in the momentary peace of knowing that at least they had each other.

“O’Neil,” Sophie whispered when they split, pulling back slightly to find Margo’s eyes again, “My last name. Well…Piatowski is my…maiden name.”

Margo just gave her a warm grin and smoothed blonde tresses away from her forehead. “Pleasure to meet ya, Sophie Piatowski.”

Chapter Text

Waking up the next morning, Sophie felt so worn down from the weight of the day before. Finding out that Graham was alive sent a shock to her system that she’d never experienced before. But as usual, Margo made everything seem like it was going to be okay— always looking out for her, always coming to her rescue. Even in their newfound plan, Margo wanted to take Sophie to LA with her to keep her safe. But she knew that wasn’t the only reason. Margo wanted to keep her like she was an abandoned puppy in a box on the street. If she didn’t feel like such a burden, Sophie would’ve been happier about it.

She rolled over on the cushioned mattress to face the woman who had been her rock for days now, only to find her spot on the bed abandoned, but still warm. Gaining consciousness as she woke up, Sophie could hear the shower running behind the bathroom door. It wasn’t unusual for Margo to get up with the sun for her morning shower.

Sitting up in bed, she stretched her tired limbs and slumped into herself, catching sight of Margo’s pajamas (a tank top and lacy pair of panties) on the floor by the bed. Her cheeks flushed with heat when she thought about Margo stripping herself bare just a few feet away from where she slept, walking around the room naked like it was second nature. Sophie craved that confidence. She was so tired of being afraid and living in fear of what would happen if she made the wrong move. Regardless of what was going on back home, she had freedom out here. She had options and choices; and a woman who was willing to stay by her side through all of it and wanted what was best for her.

Biting her lip, Sophie draped her legs over the edge of the bed and got herself up. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled her t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor before peeling her simple cotton underwear down her legs and kicking them off her ankles. She shivered at the feeling of chilled air on her skin, but heat was rolling through her veins. Padding towards the bathroom door, she reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, making her way into the steamy bathroom. The smell of ivory soap found her nose quickly, beckoning her towards the closed shower curtain after she closed the door behind her.

“Sophie? That you?” Margo called out after the audible click of the door.

“Yeah,” she breathed, slowly pulling the shower curtain aside so she could step in behind Margo.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” the older woman smirked at her as she ducked under the spray to rinse the conditioner from her hair. “You all right?”

Sophie just kept her eyes locked on hers as she inched closer, leaning up to kiss her once she was close enough. Margo didn’t protest or question her, as stunned as she seemed. Whatever was going on that made Sophie grip at her wet hips and deepen the kiss that started out so slow, Margo seemed ready to go with the flow of it, following her lead as she took the reins for once. The blonde allowed the warm water to cascade down her own body as they kissed, warming her already hot skin as she gently pushed Margo against the shower wall without breaking the kiss.

Margo hummed appreciatively against her lips as her own curled into a smile, bringing wet, soapy hands to the side of her neck. Sophie pressed herself closer, not wasting any more time before raising her hands to her swell of Margo’s breasts, swiping thumbs over the tightened peaks. She loved the feeling of the brunette shivering under her touch; it gave her the confidence she needed to slide one hand between her thighs. Margo gasped, jerking into her touch with a moan. The younger woman pulled back, breathing heavily with tunnelled vision as she locked her eyes on hers. Brave fingers swiped through the warm, slick arousal that pooled between Margo’s folds, coating them diligently before sliding two into her. Margo released a breathy moan of pleasure at the same time Sophie hummed delightedly at the feeling of her squeezing around her fingers.

“Fuck, Sophie,” Margo panted, rocking her hips in time with each thrust of her fingers, “Fuck.”

The blonde just captured her lips again, pressing harder, pulling faster, gaining confidence by the second with each one of Margo’s airy moans. With what confidence she’d built up so far, she kissed down her neck to her chest, biting down on a nipple as she curled her fingers deeper. Margo’s head fell back against the shower wall, losing herself in whatever had come over her usually meek and mild companion. Sophie surprised even herself as she crept lower, sinking to her knees in front of the addicting older woman.

Wet hands tangled in her hair. Sophie’s heart was beating out of her chest. She’d never done this before, and the fact that Margo knew that made Sophie feel even more pressure to do it right and do it well. She flicked her tongue out over her swollen lips and slowly pulled her fingers from between Margo’s legs so she could ease them wider. Her breathing was ragged from the adrenaline, but she knew she couldn’t back out now. If the roles were reversed, she would be devastated if Margo decided not to touch her at this point.

Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, Sophie took one deep breath and leaned forward, starting with slow kisses atop neatly trimmed tufts just to test the waters. Margo, panting above her, raised her leg to hook over Sophie’s shoulder, happily granting her access to where they both desperately wanted her to be. Lowering her head slightly, Sophie darted her tongue out, seeing stars when she got her first taste. She knew she was doomed from that very second as she felt the addiction begin to form in the back of her mind— a niggling little beast that would never be satisfied because she would never be able to get enough.

She was running on pure instinct, licking and sucking Margo’s pussy like her life depended on it. She wanted to make her feel good, and judging by the feeling of fingernails raking against her scalp and the loud moans falling from the brunette’s lips, she was doing a good job so far. Her nose brushed against her clit, causing Margo’s hips to lurch against her while Sophie looped an arm around her raised thigh.

“God, Sophie, I— fuck, baby,” she babbled rutting her hips for more as she chased the release that Sophie was quickly driving her towards.

“I wanna feel you come,” Sophie said without thinking. The arousal had clouded her mind so much, she didn’t even realize she was speaking out loud. But for once, she felt no shame in voicing what she wanted, and Margo certainly didn’t seem to mind.

The older woman came apart quickly with Sophie’s name falling from her lips through a loud moan, rolling her hips against her mouth as she rode out her orgasm under the stream of cold water. Sophie smiled against her as she came, eagerly lapping up her release as she metaphorically pat herself on the back. Once Margo’s hips slowed and her deep moans turned into panting breaths, Sophie pulled back and stood up carefully. She tried not to let shame and fear take over as she met Margo’s darkened eyes, but the way the woman stared at her had her cheeks flaming up in an intense blush.

“Where the hell did you come from?” the older woman breathed through a smile, twirling wet strands of blonde around her finger, “You sure you’ve never done that before?” Sophie just shook her head and bit her lip, hiding her shy but proud smile. Blue eyes shone in the fluorescent bathroom light when Margo tugged her lip free from between her teeth. “Lucky me, then.” She leaned down to kiss her soundly, blindly turning the shower off behind them.

Blissful and aching in the best possible way, Sophie struggled to catch her breath as she melted into the mattress after her third orgasm of the morning. She was learning that for each time she made Margo come, the older woman liked to return the favor ten-fold. It didn’t seem fair, but there was no arguing with Margo. And if she insisted, then Sophie certainly didn’t mind.

Margo’s lips were on her neck, grazing teeth and tongue over her pulse point until it bruised with a mark of claim. She smirked against Sophie’s skin at the intoxicating sound of her satisfied moans. She still hadn’t questioned what came over her that morning. Last night Sophie was crying and practically unresponsive, and today she was feisty and insatiable— like yesterday had never happened at all. Margo was happy to indulge in what was most likely Sophie’s little escape from reality for now. The blonde was wrapped around her entirely, arms and legs keeping her close as she rolled her hips, silently begging for more.

Sophie shuddered when Margo pressed against her, trailing her lips down to her breast while a hand came between them to slide through her slit with ease. Her hand flew up to the headboard with a mind of its own, grasping at the smooth wood desperately for something to hold on to when long fingers slipped into her. Meanwhile, Margo’s other hand was curled around her head, cradling it from behind with nails raking against her scalp. “Margo—“ she let out between moans, whimpering loudly with need as her orgasm built up quickly.

Margo’s fingers pumped faster and deeper into her while she kissed her fiercely, leaving behind little bites and bruises of affection. “You gonna come for me again?” she husked against her lips, smiling when Sophie immediately nodded with a sob of need. She was just about to grant the blonde permission when the phone rang on the nightstand beside them. As much as Margo wanted to ignore it, the loud ring was too obnoxious. Slowing her fingers, but not stopping, she shhed Sophie quietly with a gentle kiss to her lips before reaching for the phone with her free hand. “Hello?” she answered, sounding sweet and innocent despite what she was doing.

”Hello, Ms Banks. Check out is in thirty minutes,” the voice of whatever receptionist was down in the lobby deadpanned in her ear.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut as she slapped a hand over her own mouth, not trusting herself to stay quiet when Margo was still slowly working her fingers inside her while rubbing the heel of her palm against her clit.

“Oh shoot, I slept in. Am I able to stay another night? I’ll come down to pay for it after I get dressed,” Margo put on her best performance on the phone, even though her dark eyes never left Sophie’s. She must have gotten the approval she wanted since she smiled and muttered “You’re a doll, thank you,” into the phone before hanging it up.

“You’re insane,” Sophie panted, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she crawled closer and closer to the edge.

“Mmm, baby, you and I both know there’s no way we’d be able to get out of here in thirty minutes,” the brunette chuckled, kissing her again. “Now, where were we?” The question was clearly rhetorical since she sped up the movement of her hand, determined to pull that fourth orgasm from Sophie.

It came on fast, wet, and loud after a few moments, leaving Sophie breathless and boneless beneath her once again. Once she had slowed to a stop, Margo pulled her hand away, bringing it up to suck every drop of Sophie off of her fingers before rolling onto her back and taking the blonde with her so she was draped over her chest. It was quiet between them while they both caught their breath. The room was humid and smelled like sex in the wake of their little tryst fresh out of the shower. Their hair was a tangled mess and stuck to the layer of sweat that coated both their foreheads. But Sophie, for the first time, felt no post-sex shame. She didn’t think it was even possible to not feel ridden with humiliation after sex until now. It was incredibly freeing to just feel satiated and adored unconditionally.

They lay in silence, save for their panting breaths. Sophie had gotten better at not passing out so soon after an orgasm, but if Margo kept combing her fingers through the tangles in her hair, she wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer.

“Guess I should head to the lobby before they come knockin’,” Margo sighed after a few more minutes of comfortable silence, easing herself up off the mattress with a stretch that made her joints pop.

“We still have some time before checkout. We don’t have to stay if you want to keep moving.” Sophie sat up with the sheets wrapped around her chest, peering at the alarm clock. It was 10:47, they could manage to get out of here in thirteen minutes.

Margo just shook her head and pulled a pair of shorts over her legs and a baggy t-shirt over her head. “Nah, I’m kinda enjoyin’ the break if I’m honest. Plus we gotta figure out a plan.”

The younger woman just nodded silently and yawned. “I can’t promise I’ll be awake when you come back up,” she laid back against the pillows, smiling when Margo came back around to the side of the bed after putting her own messy hair into a ponytail.

“Might run out and grab us some food then,” she bent down to kiss Sophie’s forehead and down the bridge of her nose before landing softly on her giggling lips, letting her grab her by the collar of her t-shirt to keep her close.

It was all so…domestic. Nothing Margo had ever experienced before. Not with real feelings, anyway. She played the part of doting wife with some clients before, complete with a backstory that whatever man she was attached to that night conjured up. She was an expert at faking domesticity, but the feeling she had here in this room with Sophie was something she didn’t even know how to fake. And the fact that she’d gotten so attached just made things all the more terrifying.

Sophie let her go with one last kiss before she slumped back into the mound of pillows with another yawn. Margo just chuckled at her and grabbed her purse, sifting through her wallet to make sure she had her room key. Though, on her search, she also noticed that her stack of cash had dwindled down to only about $200. “Shit.” That wasn’t going to last them long at all, even if they split everything.

“You okay?” Sophie picked her head up

“Yeah, just…thought I lost the room key, but I got it,” she flashed her a bright grin, holding the card up between her fingers as she slid on a pair of sandals. “You want anythin’ specific?”

“Whatever you want’s fine. Just let me know what I owe for my half for everything.”

Her keys jingled in her hand when she picked them up off the small table by the door. “Sleep tight, darlin’,” she said smugly in the blonde’s direction before slipping out of the room.

“It’ll probably only take us a day to get from Vegas to LA at the most. Depends on how many stops we make, traffic, all that,” Margo and Sophie were hunched over the map that Margo had sprawled out in front of them on the bed, tracing their path with a polished fingernail, “Kyle lives right around here.”

Sophie bit her lip nervously at the idea of staying with Margo and her brother. The last thing she wanted to do was be in the way or burden them. Especially if Margo was going to stay with her brother, she didn’t want to impose on his space. “How long are you staying with him for?”

“Was plannin’ on just stayin ‘til I could get a place of my own. Hopefully not long. I don’t think I can survive livin’ with him for more than a few weeks,” she laughed, “Don’t want you to have to either.”

Sophie’s lips curled into a soft smile as she took another bite of the burger Margo brought back for her. “Do you have auditions and stuff lined up already?” she asked after swallowing most of her mouthful.

“Auditions?”

“Yeah, the night we met you said you were an actress and going to Hollywood for work,” Sophie looked at her curiously.

Margo looked down at the map, then back at her with a grin, but confusion was clear in her eyes. “I am goin’ for work, but I’m no actress. Wish I was, but I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“But…” Sophie wiped ketchup from the side of her lips and knit her brows together, “What are you doing for work, then?”

Margo was quiet, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I told you what I do. Told you last night, remember?”

Sophie thought back to the night before when she was spaced out and perched up in this same bed while Margo brushed her hair and told her about her past. “Oh,” she said quietly. Somehow she hadn’t connected the dots that what Margo had done all her life to survive was still what she was doing to make a living. It made her stomach churn a bit at the thought of Margo going out and doing god knows what with god knows who. Worse when she imagined a not-so-distant future where she was left behind, waiting for Margo to come back to her after she made her money.

“Not exactly glamorous, but we can probably afford a decent place with it,” Margo sighed.

The younger woman put her burger down, not feeling quite hungry anymore. Regardless of what Margo did, she couldn’t let her be the only one working. Though, she had no idea how she was supposed to get a job for herself while maintaining her anonymity. Without her license or any proof of identity, her options were pretty slim. “What if I…did what you do?” she offered, blue eyes meeting blue, “I wouldn’t have to worry about…using my real name o-or—“

“No.”

“But—“

“Sophie, I’m not lettin’ you do that. I ain’t tryin’ to control you, but I am tryin’ to protect you. You don’t need to be gettin’ involved in any of that,” Margo said sternly before her face softened and she tucked blonde hair behind Sophie’s ear delicately. “Besides…you’re mine. Not too keen on the idea of someone else touchin’ what’s mine.”

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and took in a deep breath. “But…what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re mine too…but you’re going to keep doing it…,” she shifted uncomfortably where she sat, watching as Margo just sighed with a bitter chuckle.

“That’s cause I’m no good at anything else, darlin’. You’re much too good for that kinda life, and just cause I want you to stay with me don’t mean I want you gettin’ mixed up in my lifestyle.”

Sophie looked at her, confused and a little hurt. “So I’m just supposed to be okay with you doing…that?” She didn’t know why she couldn’t bring herself to say the actual words.

“I’ve been doin’ that. For more than half my life, Sophie. It don’t mean nothin’ to me, it’s just a paycheck, that’s all,” Margo’s voice got a bit more firm as she got defensive, “Ain’t a whole lot’a options out there for girls like me.”

“That’s not fair,” Sophie whispered and shook her head with unshed tears shining in her eyes. How many options did Margo think she had as a runaway that didn’t want to be found?

Margo just sighed and folded the map up. Moving back to the headboard, she pulled Sophie closer until she was sat flush with her side and slumped against her shoulder. “I know it’s not. But it’s complicated,” she raked blonde hair back and kissed the top of her head, “I need you to trust me, baby. This ain’t gonna work if you don’t trust me.”

Sophie wiped the single tear that fell from her eye and nodded after a few moments of hesitation. “I trust you.”

Margo just bent down to kiss her slow and soft, holding her close as she did. “Everythin’s gonna be fine, I promise,” she whispered against her lips, tasting the salt of the tears that Sophie couldn’t stop from falling.

Chapter Text

Sophie’s frustration lasted well into the next day. She didn’t let it affect her time with Margo or how she behaved towards her, but the disappointment lingered in her mind. She didn’t necessarily want to join Margo’s line of work, but the fact that Margo simply wouldn’t let her for her safety gave Sophie an odd feeling that she didn’t like— like she was back to being controlled all over again.

Logically she knew that this was nothing like the control she had endured all her life from Graham and her parents, but the devil on her shoulder continued to whisper in her ear that Margo made the choice for her because she thought Sophie was weak. It was the same reason everyone else made choices for her— they didn’t think she had the strength or brains to make them herself.

She tried to brush the little devil away and remind herself that Margo not wanting to put her in danger had nothing to do with her own strength. It was just Margo looking out for her like she always did. Sophie knew that if anything ever happened to her from this point on, Margo would never forgive herself. But she was tired of living with the reminders of her own weakness like the ring on her finger, the simple, dull clothes in her suitcase, even the feeling of anxiety that washed over her several times a day for one reason or another.

“Not too long til we get to Vegas,” Margo sighed after taking a puff of her cigarette, raising her eyebrows amusedly when Sophie lit one up for herself in the passenger seat. “Old girlfriend of mine can get us into this club that’s got a bar and a pool on the roof.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. I told her I’d call her once we stopped and settled in somewhere. You bring anythin’ to wear to a nightclub?”

Sophie looked down at her denim shorts and tank top and shook her head. “The fanciest clothes I brought were the ones I wore to church the other day.”

“It’s okay. Monae’s petite like you, somethin’ of hers will probably fit ya. You ever even been to a club before?”

Sophie bit her lip, knowing that the true and honest answer was no. Nor really. She’d been to a few bars in Boston when she was in college, but they weren’t luxurious enough for her to classify them as clubs. When Sophie pictured nightclubs, she thought of dark rooms, loud house music, neon lights and glitter. Definitely not her scene. But she thought maybe it could be.

A few more minutes down the road, Margo pulled up to a gas station and parked at a pump. “You want anythin’ from inside?”

Sophie sat and thought for a moment. “I’ll come in,” she grinned and got out of the truck, walking with a confidence Margo had never seen in her before. But she didn’t question it as they walked into the little convenience store. “I’m just gonna go use the bathroom. Meet you back outside,” the blonde told her in passing, already following the signs that led to the restrooms.

Margo nodded and watched her walk off. She was acting different. Maybe a few good orgasms from someone who actually gave a shit about her was just what Sophie needed to walk around with her head held high, but it was suspiciously out of character considering the bomb that had been dropped on her the other day.

Shaking her skepticism away, Margo made a beeline for the cashier, paying for the gas and a new pack of cigarettes. She looked around once for Sophie, tucking one cigarette behind her ear for later as she walked back to the truck. She still didn’t know what she was going to do. She told Kyle she was planning on getting to LA by the end of the week, but it was already Friday and she still needed to get some money before she got there.

But something about the look in Sophie’s eyes yesterday plagued her; like she wasn’t judging, but she didn’t approve either. Margo didn’t need or want anyone’s approval, so what did she care? This girl had wormed her way so deep into her brain that she had her reconsidering all her life choices. No one had ever done that before. Now some five foot nothing runaway from Boston comes around and suddenly she’s considering a career change? What the fuck was Sophie doing to her?

She tucked the nozzle of the pump into the gas tank, leaning back against the truck under the hot sun just as the blonde was coming out of the store— sending Margo a hint of a smile before wordlessly climbing back into the passenger seat. A lot had happened over the last few days, Margo thought maybe it was her own burnout causing her to overthink for once, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it by the time they reached Nevada.

Placing the nozzle back into its cradle on the pump, Margo wiped her hands on her jeans and sighed as she got into the truck, peeling back out into traffic without a word. She was going to ask Sophie what the hell was going on, but the younger woman answered all her questions instantly when she pulled a large bottle of tequila from her backpack, wearing an innocent grin like the one Margo gave her mother after cutting Kyle’s hair without permission. “Where’d that come from?” she asked dumbly with her brows raised onto her forehead.

“We ran out, so I got us some more,” Sophie shrugged, though she wasn’t able to keep her face as nonchalant. Her cheeks were aflame and she couldn’t even try to fight back the grin that was spread across her face.

“Did you…pay for that?” Margo looked between her and the road, a bit stunned. When Sophie shook her head, she just laughed a little. “Oh, I see,” she chuckled, “Well, look at you go, Boston.”

Sophie just giggled beside her and settled into her seat as they approached the highway, but Margo— despite acting so proud— couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that had nested into the back of her mind.

They stopped at a little motel on the outskirts of Las Vegas just after 3:00. Sophie insisted on driving once they got off the highway, wanting the practice, and she got them to the little roadside motel (mostly) unharmed.

“Lady at the front desk told me the beds here got Magic Fingers. Haven’t seen one of those in ages,” Margo said excitedly after she came back from the check-in desk, settling into the passenger seat.

“It has what?” Sophie put the truck in reverse like she’d been taught and drove down the line of rooms, parking in front of theirs.

“You’ve never been to a motel with Magic Fingers before?” Margo laughed when she shook her head, “Well, I must sound fuckin’ crazy then. C’mon.”

The pair got out of the truck, retrieving their belongings from the back before Margo unlocked the door. The room certainly had a retro charm to it, but it smelled just as old as it looked.

“Here, go lie on the bed,” Margo gently pushed her towards the single bed. As much as Sophie wanted to ask what the hell she was so giddy about, she just chuckled and obeyed, lying on her back on top of the scratchy bedspread as Margo fished some change from her purse. Once she had a quarter or two in hand, she crawled up beside her. “Kay, y’ready?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be ready for,” Sophie just laughed. Though, the laugh quickly died in her throat when Margo leaned over her to feed her quarter into the small box on the nightstand. After the machine was fed and a dial was turned, Margo was on her back beside her as the bed began to vibrate.

“What the hell is this?” Sophie couldn’t help but laugh as the vibrations made her voice sound like she was riding a bike down a flight of stairs.

“Magic Fingers, darlin’!” Margo replied through a laugh of her own, her voice just as shaken up, “It’s supposed to be relaxin’.”

“It’s not!” came out in a wobbly giggle, “How long does it go for?”

“Uhhh,” Margo’s voice vibrated, “Fifteen minutes, usually.”

Sophie lifted herself up and off the bed, still fighting off her fit of laughter as she stood up. “I’m going to take a shower before we go out.”

“Take your time, honey!” Margo’s amused, shaking voice called after her from where she lay sprawled across the mattress.

Sophie just chuckled and shook her head as she grabbed her toiletry bag, taking one last glance back at Margo before closing herself into the bathroom. With the shower heating up, Sophie just shed her clothes into a pile and found her own eyes in the mirror over the sink. Under her lashes was still puffy and a shade darker than her natural skin tone, like all the years of stress and fear had gathered under her eyes and made a home there. She may have been stuck with the bags, but she didn’t want to live that life anymore: running, hiding, and keeping herself compliant. Twirling her wedding ring around her finger, she bit the inside of her cheek— deep in thought. But as her reflection began to blur with fog, she just sighed to herself and got into the shower.

She had no idea what to expect for tonight. She had never been to Vegas before, but she trusted Margo not to lead her astray. With everything following her from
home, part of her worried that going out and meeting new people wasn’t a great idea. Was she supposed to take on a new persona? Or would this weekend be so low-key that she could still be herself?

I don’t even know who that is anymore.

Willing her insecurities to wash away with her shampoo, Sophie just closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of hot water beating down on her skin. Everything would be fine.

Once she was clean and rinsed off, the blonde wrapped herself in a scratchy white towel and stepped out into the main room. Margo was touching up her makeup in the dingy little vanity mirror, blotting her lipstick on a folded tissue. “Hey, I had an idea,” Sophie held her head up and spoke confidently in spite of how little confidence she felt inside.

Margo caught her gaze in the mirror. “And what’s your idea?”

“Well…what if I pawned my wedding ring?” She sat on the edge of the bed, “Maybe it’ll get enough that we won’t have to worry about money or…or work for a little while.”

Margo put down her mascara brush slowly as a solemn smile came across her face in the mirror. “Well for starters, that wouldn’t be our money. It’d be yours—”

“No. Margo, it would be for us. We can put it towards…I don’t know, rent or something.”

“Baby, even if I took you up on that offer…a pawn shop ain’t gonna give you enough for us to not have to worry about money for…even a month,” she sighed with a gentle shake of her head. “I dunno what your piggy bank’s lookin’ like, but if anyone should be considerin’ pawnin’ jewelry, it’s me,” she added with a smile, standing up to meet Sophie at the bed, sitting on the edge right beside her.

Sophie looked her boldly in the eye with a fire of frustration burning behind her own. “So any money that you make can’t be used for us either?”

Margo’s smile fell slowly, slumping her shoulders a bit, “It’s more complicated than that, Sophie.”

“No, it’s not. Your money is yours and my money is mine, it’s actually very easy,” she huffed as her body stiffened, feeling her defense go up in a way that she had never allowed it to before; at least not for a long time. Her emotions were on overdrive, and she knew she was being irrational, but she was just so angry at everything that was happening.

“Sophie—“

“No, forget it,” she cut her off quickly, standing up to grab her suitcase with hot tears of anger and confusion welling in her eyes. But she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she felt Margo right behind her. It was different from the way her body would react to sensing Graham so close. If she broke out in goosebumps with Graham, it was almost always out of fear of what he would do— what he was planning. But even with her displaced anger at Margo, the rush that came over Sophie was warm. Safe. So trusting that she didn’t even flinch when Margo’s hands circled her waist around the terrycloth and lips met with the top of her bare shoulder.

“Listen to me,” Margo’s voice was so low that Sophie probably would have missed it if it wasn’t right next to her ear; but it managed to melt away every ounce of stress and anger she had inside for just a moment. “You do whatever you want with your ring. Okay?” she asked rhetorically against the curve of her neck, planting kiss after slow kiss to her skin. “If you wanna use the money as a nest egg, that’s fine by me. But for you. Not for me. I grew up dirt poor, but I hate bein’ a charity case.”

“But you’re not—“ the blonde turned in her arms and stared up at her through bleary eyes.

“I’m not usin’ whatever amount of money you’ve got to get out of workin’ for my own. I don’t operate like that, Sophie, I can’t. And I wouldn’t expect you to do that either if the roles were switched.” Margo’s words were firm but still gentle, and Sophie could hear the sincerity and near desperation behind them, as well as seeing it in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, understanding draping over her anger like a blanket. The anger was still there. She hated this entire situation. But she understood a little better what Margo meant.

In lieu of a verbal response, soft lips found her own with warm hands on her cheeks. Sophie wasn’t used to being treated so delicately after a disagreement. Especially not one where she had given any kind of attitude.

“Let’s just finish gettin’ ready,” Margo pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, rubbing up and down her bare arms with a hint of a smile before going back to the small desk and mirror. “Club don’t open til ten, but there’s a whole lotta Vegas to see before that.”

Wiping at her eyes once she turned around, Sophie just took a deep cleansing breath— trying to remind herself that this was still so much better than being back in Boston.

Sophie winced in the bright sunlight as they drove down the Las Vegas strip, gazing out the window at how much there was to look at. Being from Boston, she was no stranger to tall buildings and busy streets, but this was so…different. Everything just seems so glamorous, and she hadn’t even seen it lit up at night yet. Margo drove them around confidently, smiling to herself. This place had her name written all over it, it was so her: stylish and exuberant. Sophie caught herself biting at her thumbnail at the idea of trying to fit into Margo’s world— in her circles. She may not have come from much, but apparently she had so many connections that her upbringing didn’t even matter. How was Sophie supposed to fit in?

“You nervous?” Margo asked, breaking her from her trance as she pulled onto a less busy street.

Sophie ripped her thumb from between her teeth quickly like she’d been burned, and straightened up in her seat. She wanted to tell her no— that she was as confident as ever. But even if she tried, she knew Margo would see right through her. “I guess so,” she shrugged, kicking herself. What happened to the girl that stole a bottle of tequila from a gas station today? Or the girl who so boldly decided to just join Margo in the shower? She wanted that version of herself back.

“No need to be. Just stay close to me, and don’t take nothin’ from anyone. Especially walkin’ the strip at night.”

“What kind of things would I be taking?” she couldn’t help but smile at the natural protective nature of the brunette.

“Well, there’s gonna be a hell of a lot of people tryin’ to sell you a hooker, for starters. They’re gonna try to give you brochures and shit, just walk right by,” Margo waved a hand no chalantly, “People sellin’ stuff on the sidewalk, though, jewelry, sunglasses, that kind of thing. Don’t even try on a hat unless you intend to pay for it. They’re lookin’ for suckers that are here on vacation.”

Sophie nodded, following Margo’s finger when she pointed ahead out the windshield at a modern looking building. “That’s where Monae works,” she stated, though she breezed right past the building instead of stopping.

“Aren’t we going there?” Sophie turned to look at the building behind them from her window, noting that above the doors was the name of the establishment with ‘Gentleman’s Club’ in big, sculpted gold letters underneath.

“A little later. We’re meeting Monae at her place first. Gotta find you somethin’ to wear.”

Sophie sat back against the seat, watching the buildings pass by as the wind blew through her loose hair. “What does she do?”

“She dances most nights of the week. She used to bartend, but since startin’ at this new place a few years ago the dancin’ pays the bills on its own.”

“Dances?” Sophie quirked an eyebrow in her direction, “As in…”

“As in strippin’, yes,” Margo snorted with a smile.

“How did you meet her?”

“We actually worked together at some sleazy place back in Texas for a while,” she explained with both hands on the wheel as she began looking for the correct street to turn onto, “Taught me everythin’ I know.”

The thought of Margo as a stripper sent heat to Sophie’s cheeks. “Oh,” she muttered dumbly, looking out the window to hide her blushing. The image of Margo scantily clad while dancing sensually around a pole wouldn’t leave her mind. Sophie could only clear her throat and nervously tug at the loose threads of her shorts, not realizing that Margo was smirking knowingly to herself at her reaction.

With the blinker on, they wordlessly pulled into the parking lot of a pretty high-rise apartment building made entirely of white stucco and glass. It looked like a hotel, it was so classy. It even had a revolving door for the entrance.

“She can afford to live here just off a few nights of work a week?” Sophie asked incredulously, staring up at the building like she was being pranked.

“Well, that and the fact that her husband’s made a fortune playin’ blackjack professionally,” Margo nodded, getting out of the truck and coming around to meet the stunned blonde at the passenger side.

They walked together towards the building, Sophie still in awe as she looked up at the architecture. The interior of the lobby even smelled expensive when they passed through the revolving doors. This apartment building was classier than any hotel Sophie had ever stayed at. Marble floors lined the entire lobby, tiled mosaics decorated the walls, and above them was one of the biggest chandeliers she’d ever seen.

Margo approached the man behind the front desk with a smile as Sophie trailed behind her, looking around with wide-eyed wonder. “Margo Banks, we’re here to see Monae Winslow, 15-B.”

“Yes Ms. Banks, she told us you would be coming and to let you up whenever you arrived,” the man nodded and gestured towards the guest elevator. Residents apparently had their own elevator that required an access card.

“This place is insane,” Sophie breathed, looking at Margo in the mirrored elevator doors once they were inside and on their way to the 15th floor.

“Right?” Margo checked her makeup in the mirror before the bell chimed for their destination. The hallway was long, but only had 2 doors— one on the left, one on the right.

“There’s only two apartments on each floor?”

“I think the lower floors have three or four on each side. But the higher up, the bigger they get. Only one penthouse, though. Monae and Marcus have been tryin’ to move up there for years.”

“Jesus.” Sophie stayed close, trying to get some of her confidence back in the seconds between Margo knocking on the door and Monae answering it.

Sophie felt like she could die in a hole when Monae answered the door. She was gorgeous; put together like a movie star. Her dark skin glistened under the light as it reflected off her shimmery body bronzer. Her hair was long and styled in intricate braids and her makeup looked like it had been done by a professional. On top of all that, she was dressed in a hot pink dress with gold strappy heels and dripping with jewelry. Sophie watched them hug with a meek smile, feeling so small in comparison to the glamour they both exuded. Monae was a few inches taller than her in heels, but her confidence made her seem just as tall as Margo, if not taller.

“You must be Sophie. Margo told me all about you on the phone,” the elegant woman reached out to hug her as well. It caught Sophie by surprise, but she hugged her back as if they were old friends.

“Nice to meet you,” she smiled, feeling a bit underdressed in her shorts and tank top with nothing but tinted lip balm on for makeup.

Monae ushered them inside, leaving Sophie awestruck again at the interior. It wasn’t as sterile looking as the lobby. It definitely looked lived-in and cozy, but between the floor to ceiling tinted windows and the crystal chandelier in the living room, Sophie was certainly impressed.

“Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll grab us some drinks. Sophie, is champagne okay?”

“Uh…yeah, thank you,” she smiled after a quick glance at Margo. She was being served champagne at 6:00 in the afternoon in an apartment that was probably bigger than the entire square foot of her house in Boston. How the hell did she end up here?

She followed Margo to the living room and sat awkwardly about a foot away from her on the leather couch after they crossed over the plush carpet.

“You scared of me or somethin’?” Margo chuckled at her, “Why you all the way over there?”

Sophie glanced at the foot of space between them on the couch, unsure of how to answer that question. “I-I just wasn’t sure—“

“Oh, darlin’, I told Monae all about you,” she tugged Sophie to slide across the leather until she was flush with her side, keeping her hand in hers, “Even if I hadn’t, she don’t judge.”

“All about me?” she asked hesitantly, peering up at the older woman.

“Not everything. Just enough that it won’t raise any eyebrows when she comes back in and sees me holdin’ your hand.”

The blonde’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as she leaned into Margo, feeling a little more comfortable having her so close by. The kiss the brunette dropped to the top of her head gave Sophie just enough extra reassurance that she didn’t even try to remove her hand from Margo’s when Monae came back into the room with three champagne flutes and a small board of cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“Girl, it has been way too long. I can’t believe you’ve been in Alba all this time,” the older woman settled into a leather arm chair across from the couch with a pearly white smile.

“I had a lot of shit to clean up.”

“Kyle?”

“Who else?”

“Of course,” Monae shook her head with an enamored chuckle, “So you’re headed to LA? What’s over there?”

“Kyle’s actually been livin’ there for a while now,” Margo sipped at her champagne with her free hand, clicking a manicured fingernail against the crystal, “He’s got some friends in a few different spots that can get me some work. Just wanna put down some roots there too, cause it seems like he’s thrivin’.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped a little at the mention of Margo’s work. She put down her champagne glass after a single sip and leaned back against the couch, trying to brush off the icky feeling that had washed over her.

“Sophie, what about you? Where are you from?”

“Um…the east coast. New England,” she cleared her throat and forced a smile, not wanting to divulge too much information about herself.

“Long way from home, then. How did you meet Margo?”

“Uh, well—“

“Oh, Sophie and I go way back.”

Sophie could see the smirk on Margo’s face from the corner of her eye.

“What was it, two years ago? New York City?” the older woman continued, now looking directly at her with an affectionate smile as her thumb slowly traced her knuckles.

Sophie looked back at her. There was that glimmer of mischief again. The same one she had when she was pretending to be terminally ill back at a run-down motel in Texas. How had that only been a week ago? “Yeah,” she cleared her throat and smiled at Monae, “At some random hotel lounge.”

“Mmhm,” Margo nodded, pretending to remember that imaginary day as if it were just yesterday, “I had gone to New York with Jed for one of his events. You remember Jed.”

“How could I forget?” Monae rolled her eyes as she sipped her champagne.

“Well, then you know why I was at the bar lookin’ to get away. Bumped into this cutie here—“

“Literally,” Sophie cut in, laughing a bit at the fake memory, “I spilled my drink on her dress because of it. And she offered to buy me another.” Margo squeezed her hand in appreciation. Obviously they were fabricating this meet-cute for a reason, even if Sophie didn’t know what the reason was yet. “And I was…looking for any excuse to avoid going back to my friend’s bachelorette party, so I said yes.”

Margo laughed, “You make it sound like I was the lesser of two evils.”

“You were,” Sophie giggled, looking down at their hands in her lap. Butterflies flapped in her stomach at the crystal clear visual, and she had to remind herself that it didn’t actually happen.

“Well, not to toot my own horn, but by the end of that night, she didn’t even remember the bride-to-be’s name,” Margo shrugged in Monae’s direction, causing the dark-haired woman to laugh while Sophie tore her hand away to cover her face in genuine embarrassment, despite it being a complete lie. “But anyway, we’ve been keepin’ in contact ever since. Told her I was goin’ to LA, and asked if she wanted to come along.”

Monae just shook her head and finished her champagne, “Same old Margo. Well, I’m happy you found each other. You seem very happy.”

The pair just smiled at each other warmly, Margo squeezing Sophie’s hand again while the younger woman’s cheeks pricked with heat.

“I’ll give y’all a tour if you like. Then we can head out to dinner?” Monae stood up with her hands on her hips, watching the other two rise to their feet as well. “Sophie, is that what you’re wearin’ tonight?”

The blonde looked down at her faded tank top and worn out denim shorts, forgetting that they were going out out.

“You think you got somethin’ she can borrow, hon?” Margo asked sweetly, “Pretty sure y’all are about the same size.”

Sophie didn’t expect Monae to agree so quickly. She certainly didn’t expect the woman to grab her wrist and drag her to her bedroom eagerly, but she smiled and laughed anyway, appreciating her hospitality. The walk-in closet attached to the bedroom was the size of their motel room. Sophie gazed around in a trance at the multitude of colors and fabrics that surrounded them.

“Go ahead and try on whatever you like. I’m gonna go schedule a town car to pick us up.” Monae left the two alone as she flowed back out of the bedroom.

“Thanks,” Margo sighed, leaning against the wall, “I wasn’t sure if she’d be all right knowin’ that I just picked you up off the side of the road last week.” She attempted a laugh, but it came out as just a breath of air through her smile.

Sophie bit her lip and nodded understandingly. “Who’s Jed?”

Margo peeled herself off the wall and sauntered over to her, making goosebumps rise on Sophie’s fair skin. “He is…a story for another day, babygirl.”

Sophie swallowed the thick lump that had formed in her throat and nodded again, melting when Margo kissed her slowly with a reassurance that made her weak in the knees and intensity that left her seeing stars when she pulled back.

“Now you…” Margo started, grinning slyly as she stepped away from Sophie and towards the rack of dresses, “Have got to try this on.” She held up a black mini cocktail dress with gold spaghetti straps and sparkling gold embellishments along the hem, handing it over to her like she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Sophie took the wooden hanger and inspected the dress. It was gorgeous, but so unlike anything she’d ever worn before. The angel and devil were battling on her shoulders again, one telling her to find something less showy, and the other telling her to put on the dress with the tallest lair of heels she can find and have fun.

This time, the decision between the two wasn’t so difficult.

Chapter Text

Sophie had never felt so high class in her life. When she was a little girl, her grandmother once took her into the city for an elegant tea party. She’d been to a few charity benefits with her parents and with Graham over the years for one reason or another. Hell, even prom and her own wedding didn’t make her feel as good as she did right now: laughing in the back of a town car with Margo and Monae, a bit tipsy from wine and full of what was probably the best pasta she’d ever had. It was nearing 10:00. The sun was down, and the night on the Las Vegas strip was just as lively as she’d seen it on TV. The lights of the city were so bright, the streets were crowded and bustling. Like Boston, but much more…sparkly.

Their town car pulled up in front of an elegant, towering building. Patrons were lined up behind a velvet rope, glowing under the neon lights as they waited to get into the club, but something told Sophie that the line that was wrapped around the sidewalk wasn’t something that Margo or Monae were concerned about in the slightest. Margo must have sensed her anxieties creeping up on her despite the way the wine had been running through her veins like warm honey. The older woman squeezed her hand in the dark shadows of their laps, rubbing the pad of her thumb along the dent left behind by her wedding ring.

“Breathe,” she whispered in her ear, sending chills down Sophie’s spine when her breath brushed against her skin. The blonde simply nodded in response, glancing up at her just in time to see the reflection of neon lights in her eyes when the car door was opened for them from the outside.

The trip from the sidewalk to the rooftop was a blur for Sophie, but she held tight to Margo’s hand the whole time as they followed Monae towards the back of the club. Even the express elevator ride to the roof didn’t give her much time to collect her thoughts. And before she knew it they were there: on the edge of the large, sleek rooftop bar. As well as the blue glow from the pool, it was all hanging string lights, loud music, and a melting pot of party-goers under the moon. It probably gave some people the same feeling that kids got when they saw the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese.

Heads turned their way when they stepped out onto the promenade, making Sophie suddenly very aware that she was still holding tightly to Margo’s hand. Her grip loosened, but her hand didn’t move. Margo still had her fingers casually laced through hers without a care in the world as to who saw. Sophie noticed after glancing around, that there were things much more scandalous going on in this place than two women holding hands. There were men in the hot tub with a woman on both sides of them, lines of cocaine being snorted off tables, and women in dresses that made the one Sophie borrowed look like a mumu. It all just reminded her that they were far from conservative East Texas. Las Vegas was Sin City.

“Jill is here somewhere,” Monae said to Margo over the loud electronic music.

“Go find her. We’re gonna go get a drink so we’ll catch up with you later,” the brunette waved her friend off before turning to Sophie. “Hey,” she coaxed with a squeeze of her hand. “I know this is a lot. Say the word and we’ll leave, okay?”

Sophie peered up at her, taking a break from looking around in a daze. It was obvious that she was completely out of her element here. But she nodded at Margo with a brave smile and followed her to the bar.

Shelves were lined with bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors, overwhelming Sophie with the decision of what to get. The only alcohol she’d had since leaving Boston was overpriced wine and stolen tequila. She didn’t really even know what she liked.

“You ever done body shots?” Margo’s voice made her lose focus on the array of labels.

“What?”

“Oh, honey. I’ve got so much to teach you,” Margo chuckled and flagged down the bartender for two tequila shots. Sophie watched curiously as Margo gathered the shot glasses with a small plate of lime slices and a nearby salt shaker.

Gasping when the cool glass was tucked between her dress and the heated skin of her chest, Sophie’s eyes never left hers. Both sets of blue eyes blackened when Margo raised Sophie’s arm and dragged her tongue along the inside of her wrist. “M-Margo, what—“ her words caught on another gasp of surprise when she felt the warmth of Margo’s tongue on her skin, familiar and comfortable. The older woman pulled back, eyes only leaving Sophie’s briefly as she sprinkled salt onto the wet stripe and slowly licked it off again.

Sophie could feel her world stop turning in the best way when Margo pulled the shot glass from between her breasts with her teeth. Like suddenly it was just her and Margo. The club and its other patrons didn’t exist. She watched in slow motion as Margo tilted her head back, downing the shot with ease before biting into one of the lime slices. Every nerve in the blonde’s body tingled when she watched a bit of lime juice dribble from the corner of glossy lips— from her toes to her hair follicles, her whole body felt alive.

“Body shots,” Margo stated as if she had just finished a full verbal explanation, setting her shot glass onto the bar and sucking the lime juice off her thumb. “Wanna try?”

Dilated blue eyes moved from Margo’s to the shot glass waiting for her on the marble countertop. “Okay,” she breathed, taking the salt shaker Margo held out for her and looking over the expanse of skin she had to choose from. “Just…anywhere?” she asked tentatively, daring to meet her eyes again.

“Anywhere,” Margo nodded once with an encouraging smirk, watching as Sophie carefully tucked the shot glass into her cleavage with trembling hands and feigned confidence on her face.

With a deep breath, Sophie bit her lip as she thought about her decision. She could go for somewhere simple— her shoulder, maybe. Then again, there’s really no innocent place to lick another person, is there? She leaned up on her tip-toes, giving herself a little more height than the high heels could offer and slowly ran her tongue along the dip above Margo’s collarbone, breathing in the strong scent of Chanel that surrounded them. If the hypnotizing perfume didn’t flip a switch in her, the sound of Margo’s breath hitching in the back of her throat did. Despite the sudden burst of confidence, Sophie’s cheeks still turned bright pink when she pulled back to sprinkle salt onto Margo’s skin. She didn’t meet her eyes, but she didn’t have to to know that those icy blues were fixed on her. As she licked the salt away, she could feel Margo’s skin warm under her tongue from more than just the desert heat, as well as long fingernails brushing against her wrist as the brunette seemed to falter the slightest bit. Their eyes didn’t meet again until after the shot was tossed back and the slice of lime was squeezed between Sophie’s teeth. She winced at the sour burn in her throat, but couldn’t take her eyes off Margo’s as she slowly wiped her chin on the back of her hand— cheeks still deeply flushed.

“Like that?” she asked with an innocent smile under the fire in her eyes.

“Well, aren’t you a fast learner,” Margo drawled, grinning devilishly as she pulled her closer by the hip and flagged down the bartender for two more shots.

About two hours and four spaced out shots later, Sophie leaned against Margo’s side at a round booth table in the corner of the rooftop, fighting off the alcohol-induced fatigue. Margo knew she was tired, but every time she asked if she wanted to leave, Sophie was insistent on staying. She hadn’t had this much fun or even been anywhere this fun in so long. They danced for a bit, dipped their feet in the pool, and eventually retired to the booth with Monae and a few guys they met. Sophie didn’t remember their names— Tom, Jerry, whatever. She couldn’t focus on anything but Margo’s warm shoulder against her cheek, the smell of her perfume, and the feeling of her hand clutched between Sophie’s own in her lap under the table.

“So we’re at this club in Hollywood, and all of a sudden half the Lakers basketball team walks in,” the slick-haired one to Margo’s right said animatedly, continuing a story that Sophie couldn’t even pretend to be interested in. She just shifted closer to Margo and sighed into her ear.

“You okay over there, darlin’?” Margo turned to ask as quietly as she could over the loud music and the booming voice of the man beside her.

The blonde just nodded, surely smudging some of her makeup onto Margo's bare shoulder. “Bored,” she answered honestly with a pout, playing with her fingers where they sat in her lap. Margo just chuckled softly and laced their fingers together where they were hidden under the table. She knew that all she had to do was ask and they would leave; but as bored as she was, she didn’t want the night to end.

Margo turned her attention back to Steve or Phil, but a small smile spread on Sophie’s face when her manicured fingers untangled from her own and started slowly tracing from the pads of her fingertips to the center of her palm— dragging so lightly back and forth against her skin that is made the younger woman break out in goosebumps with a noticeable shiver. Sophie’s heart started climbing into her throat at the sensation. It was like Margo was daring her to focus on the feeling of her feather-light touch while she was pretending to pay her no mind. The gentle scrape of fingernails against the sensitive skin at the center of her palm had Sophie’s vision tunnelling as her mouth dried up. She swallowed hard as Margo kept going. She had no idea what kind of voodoo magic Margo had over her, but somehow the innocent touch to her palm had Sophie pressing her thighs together as white hot tension started to build in her gut.

With a flushed face, Sophie tried to shift her attention from Margo’s fingers to the man that was still talking about a sports team at a random Hollywood nightclub. Or maybe now he was talking about winning a bet at the racetrack. He could be talking directly to Sophie and she wouldn’t have noticed at all. As hard as she tried to pay attention, her swirling, tipsy brain was too occupied with the way Margo pressed the pad of a single finger against her palm, rubbing up and down in a way that Sophie could only describe as erotic. She crossed one leg over the other to ease the growing ache between them. Somehow the touch to her hand was going straight to her core. Each soft flick of Margo’s finger against her palm may as well have been a flick to her clit, making her hips jerk on their own as she squirmed in her seat.

Margo, on the other hand, just kept smiling and nodding at the story being told, taking a few drags from her cigarette as she pretended to be oblivious of what she was doing to Sophie.

The sudden sound of a few playful screams and splashes caught everyone’s attention, making them turn towards the pool where a few people had decided to strip down and jump in. Monae just chuckled and sipped at her drink before she noticed Sophie looking deeply unsettled across the table.

“You okay, Soph? You look about ready to pass out over there,” she commented with genuine concern.

Suddenly everyone’s eyes were on her, turning her pink cheeks to red as she nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, just…a little warm, I guess,” she laughed nervously, averting her eyes as she brushed hair from her eyes with her free hand. The other was still being subtly caressed by Margo’s under the table.

“Oh, look at you, you’re all flushed,” Margo brought her own free hand to her cheek like she was checking for signs of a fever. Her voice dripped with worry, though Sophie could see the familiar glint of mischief in her eyes as she knowingly tickled the center of her palm, coaxing a little mewl from her lips. “I think we’re gonna go cool off in the pool for a little bit.”

The offending finger stopped teasing. Instead, Margo patted Sophie’s thigh affectionately and nudged her out of the booth until the blonde was up on her wobbly feet that were still bare from when they sat on the edge of the pool earlier. “C’mon,” Margo guided Sophie away from the table with a hand at the small of her back.

Sophie finally breathed once they were a safe distance away from the table, almost missing the tantalizing touch that had been driving her crazy. “What the hell were you—“

“I was tryin’ to get out of that boring conversation. I got much better things to worry about than how Paul spends his weekends and his money.” The older woman grinned playfully, reaching for the zipper on the side of her tight dress and pulling it down until the metallic satin was pooled at her ankles.

Sophie didn’t think her face could get any redder, but Margo stripping down to just a thong right in front of her at this rooftop bar managed to make it happen. It wasn’t like she was the only one. Just about everyone that was in the pool now had done the same thing. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything before the brunette zoomed past her and jumped into the bright neon blue water, leaving Sophie on the concrete with her mouth agape.

Margo resurfaced with her head tipped up so her hair slicked back as she wiped the water from her eyes. “You comin’ in?” she called up to the younger woman with a smirk, wading in place.

“You’re crazy,” Sophie shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she shifted from foot to foot.

Margo swam towards the side of the pool and folded her arms against the tiled edge, resting her chin on them. “Come on, Boston. How many times are you gonna get the chance to jump naked into a pool on the roof of a nightclub in Sin City?”

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek. Having the confidence to do things like this was part of the freedom she’d been chasing all this time. After tomorrow, she’d probably never see any of these people ever again, not that any of them were even paying her any attention. Even if everyone’s eyes were on her, she would have only noticed Margo’s anyway. Under those cool blue eyes, Sophie felt like she could do anything.

Turning around, she unzipped her dress from the side and kicked it to where Margo’s was haphazardly discarded next to a deck chair. She didn’t spend much time feeling embarrassed about having just a simple pair of cotton underwear under the dress since Margo’s smirk was shining up at her from the glowing water as she swam backwards.

“That’s my girl,” she said encouragingly and watched as Sophie lowered herself into the pool in front of her, “See? Doesn’t that feel good?”

Sophie just nodded, feeling her breath catch in her throat when Margo closed the space between them. Chilled water lapped at her arms where it was splashing against the pool’s edge. Even with all the noise around them, Sophie could only hear the heavy beat of her heart in her own ears when Margo fenced her in with her arms, leaning in close. It was a large enough pool that they had a bit of space to themselves in the corner, and Margo seemed to want to take full advantage of that. Warm, wet lips found Sophie’s as Margo pulled her closer. Slim arms circled Margo’s shoulders instinctively as the brunette coaxed Sophie’s legs around her hips.

The initial embarrassment of a few hoots and hollers in their direction faded quickly despite the deep tint of pink on Sophie's face. She kissed Margo deeply, locking her ankles behind her to keep her close while the brunette caressed her bare sides under the water. The music was still booming around them and the voices of a few other patrons blended into the background. The twinge in the pit of her stomach was back— relentless and demanding, forcing her hips forward with a barely-there jerk against Margo’s stomach.

The brunette pulled away from the kiss, still placing slow, sensual kisses to Sophie’s lips as her own curled into a knowing smile. Adjusting her in her arms, Margo managed to unhook Sophie’s legs from around her waist and press a bare thigh up between them. Sophie choked on a gasp as she clung to her. “M-Margo—“ her darkened eyes darted around in fear of someone looking, watching. But (thankfully) everyone else seemed to be in their own little worlds around them, putting her mind at ease with the help of Margo’s thumb slowly stroking her cheek.

“I’ve got you, baby. S’just you and me,” Margo whispered in her ear, nibbling on the spot just below it before soothing it over with her tongue. The hand on her hip still under the water eased her subtly back and forth, giving Sophie just enough pleasurable friction without being conspicuous. They just looked like two women making out on the edge of the pool, no one else knew that Sophie was grinding herself down on Margo’s strong thigh.

“Good girl. You’re so pretty when you’re all needy like this.” The older woman whispered praise and encouragement into her ear and against her lips, quieting Sophie’s strained whimpers.

After the buildup from Margo’s teasing before, it didn’t take long for Sophie to reach her peak and come tumbling down into the safety of her arms as she relished in the high. Margo just smiled with a kiss to her temple, holding her close and keeping her afloat. “I think it’s time we headed back, whatdya think?” she murmured, wetting blonde hair as she smoothed it back from Sophie’s forehead.

“But we just got in,” Sophie pouted, wrapping her legs around her again. “Can we stay a little longer, please?”

“All right, since you asked so nicely,” Margo teased, laughing when Sophie thanked her with a kiss and laid her cheek against her shoulder, “Thirty more minutes.”

The ride back to Monae’s high-rise apartment was quiet despite the city still being wide awake at 2:00. Sophie dozed against Margo’s shoulder, makeup smudged and hair still damp from the pool. In her state of half-sleep she slowly ran her fingertip over the baby blue beads on Margo’s wrist, rhythmically rubbing back and forth across the ridges in a way that calmed every tense nerve left in her body.

“You’re still coming tomorrow night, right?” Monae asked as they all piled out of the sleek towncar.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it. I can’t wait to see all the girls again,” Margo nodded, leaning in to hug her old friend, “Thanks again for tonight, it was fun.”

“Girl, anytime,” Monae kissed her cheek before turning to wrap an arm around Sophie, “And it was so great to meet you, honey.”

Sophie hugged her back with a tired smile, “You too, thank you for everything.”

“Well, any friend of Margo’s is a friend of mine.”

Margo fished the keys to the truck from her purse and handed them to Sophie. “Go start up the truck, I’ll be right there.”

The blonde nodded and took the keys obediently, waving goodbye to Monae as she walked towards the cherry red truck with a bit of a limp in her step from spending the night in high heels.

“She’s a sweetheart,” Monae commented quietly.

Margo just ducked her head almost shyly, “Yeah, she is. Makes me wonder what the hell she likes me for.”

“Oh, please. You act all big and bad, but you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.”

A chill ran through the taller woman, making her wrap her arms around herself. “I just wanna protect her, y’know? Somethin’ about her just…” she trailed off into silence, “I’ll be honest with you, Mo, she’s in some trouble. Trouble that she doesn’t deserve to be in.”

“Well, good thing ‘trouble’ is your middle name. You know how to handle whatever it is,” Monae reached for her shoulder affectionately.

But Margo just shook her head, stiffly standing in place. “I don’t know if I do this time,” she whispered, averting her bleary eyes.

Monae cocked her head in sympathy, still rubbing her friend’s shoulder. “Is she worth trying to figure it out?” The brunette nodded almost immediately, unconsciously playing with the beads on her wrist. “Then you’ll handle it. I know you will. And if you ever need anything, you know I’m always here for you, right?”

Nodding again, Margo wrapped her arms around Monae’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. “Thanks, Mo. We’ll see you tomorrow. Well…tonight, I guess,” she sighed lightheartedly, “Don’t forget her clothes.”

“Don’t forget my dress. It looks amazing on her, but I still want it back,” Monae called after her as her heels began clicking towards the truck.

With a quiet laugh, Margo waved goodbye before letting herself into the truck where Sophie was laid across the bench from where she was sitting in the passenger seat, exhausted. Without a word Margo gently lifted her just enough for her to slide into the driver’s seat before settling Sophie’s head back down in her lap.

“Are we going home now?” the blonde mumbled, still teetering between sleep and wake.

Margo let her lips curl into a half smile, amused at Sophie’s loose interpretation of the word ‘home’. “Yeah, we are,” she whispered, deciding not to think too much of it as she shifted the truck into gear.

Chapter Text

The next night was the night Sophie learned just how much effort women put into being strippers. Or ‘dancers’ and ‘erotic entertainers’, as she was learning some preferred to be called. The gentleman’s club was in a transition period between shifts when Sophie and Margo arrived with Monae. Sophie assumed that the club would only be open at night, but this one and several others in the area had business at just about any time of day considering the non-stop bustle of the city.

“So this is a strip club,” she muttered quietly, glancing around as Monae gave them a tour.

“It’s not as sleazy as it sounds. You should’ve seen the places we used to dance at in Texas,” Monae chuckled, turning to Margo, “You remember The Doghouse?”

Margo gagged dramatically. “God, don’t remind me.”

Sophie just smiled, though she was incredibly curious. She could only assume that The Doghouse wasn’t nearly as high class as this place looked. Even going backstage to the dressing rooms, it seemed to be well-kept and clean. The hallways were lined with crates of beer steins and martini glasses, and racks of costumes of all kinds.

“Okay, we have one rule here, Sophie,” Monae stopped at a door with a large golden star on it, “What you do, hear, or say in the dressing room stays in the dressing room.”

“Two rules. Outside this door, you call the girls by their stage names,” Margo added.

The blonde nodded in agreement to the rules before the older woman let them in. It reminded Sophie of her high school theater dressing room: chaotic, bright, and reeking of hairspray. The walls were lined with vanities. Some were personalized for specific girls with polaroids taped to the mirrors. Some girls had their makeup and hair supplies neatly organized while it looked like a tornado tore across some vanities. Sophie thought it looked so fun, getting dressed and made up every night with your friends. But she knew there had to be so much more to it than that.

Monae set her purse down on a specific vanity table that was relatively neat, but looked like a pigsty in comparison to the one next to it where a dark-haired brunette was curling her hair. “Hey Jilly Bean,” Monae greeted her with a smile. Sophie recognized her as the woman she had met last night at the rooftop bar. She was really nice, but Sophie would have never guessed at first glance that she would work in a place like this. She seemed like she could be a high school principal or even running for congress. But instead, here she was in a glittery dark blue bustier and matching thong.

“Hey!” she put her curling iron down and stood to her feet, standing just a few inches shorter than Margo without heels on. Sophie watched with a smile as she hugged the two other women before she turned towards her with a kind grin. “Sophie, right?”

“Yeah. Nice to see you again,” the blonde found herself being hugged as if she was just another old friend and part of the group.

“You too! Feels like forever since we’ve had a new girl around here.”

Sophie’s jaw fell open with an amused smile, shaking her head nervously. “Oh no, I’m not— I mean, I don’t—“

“We’re just visitn’,” Margo cut in for her, “Passin’ through on the a little roadtrip.”

Jill’s bottom lip jutted into a dramatic pout in Margo’s direction. “That’s a shame, she’s such a cutie pie. They’d love her.”

Sophie blushed and glanced down at her sneakers when Margo wrapped an arm around her back, protective and possessive in a way that made her weak in the knees.

“Well, at least let me do your hair and makeup! Best part of this job is playing dress-up,” Jill reached for Sophie’s hand and tore her from Margo to sit her in the swiveling chair in front of her own vanity. “I’m going to school for cosmetology. I wanna be a stylist to the stars and do the hair and makeup on all the big names in Hollywood.”

Margo chuckled as Jill drabbled on and on to Sophie. The blonde seemed a bit taken back, but she watched as she relaxed as much as she could, letting Jill tie her hair back into a claw clip as she got her makeup kit out. After catching her eyes in the mirror and getting a smile reflected back at her, Margo sighed, relaxing her own shoulders as she turned to Monae again.

“You gonna be okay?” her old friend reached for her shoulder.

“Aren’t I always?”

Monae laughed and shook her head at the way Margo snapped instantly into character: a confident, unyielding lioness that knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. It was a character she had gotten to know well through their years of friendship. “I’ll leave you to it then, Queen Bee.”

Monae grabbed a garment bag and walked off, leaving Margo to sit in her vanity chair in front of the illuminated mirror. She was already wearing a slinky black cocktail dress with flawless hair and makeup, but she touched up a few shiny spots as she stared her reflection down with fire in her eyes.

Beside her, Sophie watched in her peripheral vision as Jill found a shade of eyeshadow for her. She could sense something was wrong. It radiated off of Margo like heat, despite the brunette trying to hide it behind her effortless confidence and charisma. But she brushed it aside as best she could, not wanting to bring attention to it with the other girls around. It had only been a week and a half since they met, but she knew she wasn’t going to get any vulnerability out of Margo here. Not with everyone else around. She caught Margo’s eyes every few moments when Jill would disappear to grab a new tool, blushing under her gaze when the brunette would subtly wink at her.

Eventually, her hair was curled and voluminous, her eyes were donned with hot pink shimmer and stick-on rhinestones. The rouge on her cheeks was brighter than she’d ever worn it, and her lips were painted bright pink. She hardly recognized herself in the mirror when the chair was turned for her to see. “Oh wow,” she breathed, staring at her own reflection.

“Whatcha think, Margo?” Jill grinned.

“Very pink,” Margo chuckled, getting up from her chair to cross the small space between them. With Sophie’s casual clothing, her hair and makeup looked so outlandish, but not bad. Jill got called across the room by one of the other girls, leaving them alone for a moment.

“Is it bad?” Sophie asked quietly, trying not to sound too insecure.

Shaking her head, Margo leaned against her chair with a smirk, “Not at all. Jill does a good job. But…” she took Sophie’s chin and tilted her head up, “Even for stage makeup, it’s a little much. As much as I love seein’ you lookin’ like a Barbie doll, cooler, softer tones would do so much more for your eyes.” Sophie watched her intently as she inspected her makeup, taking her word like it was gospel. “These eyes light up a room on their own. Bright colors just drown’em out. And I’ll tell ya, baby, girls with faces like yours don’t even need makeup.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, averting them shyly before ducking her head to hide her smile, “Yeah right.”

“I mean it. With those big baby blues and pretty pink lips…” Margo chuckled, lifting her head again. “And remember what I said about hidin’ that smile from me.”

“You used to do this all the time?” Sophie cleared her throat, changing the subject as she took Margo’s hand in hers, playing with her rings.

“Most nights,” she nodded, “Money’s not as good as…y’know. But it’s a lot more fun.”

The younger woman nodded, watching her expression. She knew that Margo knew Sophie wasn’t entirely comfortable with her chosen career path, but sometimes she wondered if her opinion even mattered to her at all. Sure, it was all Margo thought she was good for, but Sophie couldn’t help but worry that she would never even consider anything else.

“Ladies, showtime’s in five! Finish up!” a man called through the door, causing all the girls in the room to scatter.

“You wanna go watch from the wings?” Margo stood up straight, holding a hand out and smiling when Sophie took it to stand with her.

Sophie leaned against the wall beside the stage, wide eyes glittering under the lights. She watched as Jill— or “Kitty” as she’d been taught to call her anywhere outside of the dressing room— spun around the pole at the center of the stage to a Nu Shooz song. Apparently 80s pop was Jill’s thing. Monae, also known as “Diamond”, had performed a slow, sensual number just a few minutes before. Now she was out in the crowd entertaining men of all different kinds; flashing a smile, giving a wink, and allowing them to touch with her approval. It was definitely more than just pretty clothes and makeup, but all the girls made it look so easy.

“What was your thing?” she asked over the music, turning to Margo who stood beside her watching the show along with her.

“My thing?”

“Yeah. What was your…style? All the girls seem to have their own performance personalities.”

“Oh. I’d do whatever, really. Depended on the night and the crowd. But in Alba, I guess I did more high energy routines than anythin’. Old rednecks love to see a girl shakin’ her ass to hair metal,” Margo rolled her eyes with a scoff, unable to count how many beers had been spilled on her by overexcited patrons while she danced to “Rebel Yell”.

The blonde bit the inside of her cheek, flushing under the black light at the idea of Margo actually trying to outdo her natural sex appeal with a dance and a barely-there outfit. She could only imagine how many guys fantasized about her and were willing to give up their life savings just for a night with her. And she couldn’t help but feel a bit smug when she thought about how many people Margo must have said ‘no’ to in her lifetime, and how Sophie herself wasn’t one of them. Secretly she wondered just how many people had gotten to be with Margo without having to pay— how many relationships she had been in that weren’t transactional.

“What was your stage name?” her voice tilted up in question again, turning back to Jill as she held onto the pole with just her legs while she waited for an answer.

“Just Margo.”

“Really? I thought you weren’t supposed to use your real names.”

“Margo ain’t my real name, remember?” the brunette chuckled, glancing around the curtain to scan the crowd.

“Yeah, but…” Sophie went to argue, confused as she looked up to face her again, “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Margo chuckled again. “Darlin’, danger was knockin’ on my trailer door since before I could read. Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

With an almost painful swallow, Sophie just averted her eyes to Jill again as she finished her routine, watching her gracefully collect bills that had been strewn across the stage. “This looks like fun,” she smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. She wondered what her stage name would be and what songs she would like to dance to. She had her favorites, but she never even considered any tapes that she played on her walkman would end up being part of some kind of repertoire.

“It can be fun. It’s a lotta work, though. And dancin’ for tips ain’t always glamorous. You could collect $500 off one performance and still only go home with $200 if you’re lucky.”

“What? Why?”

Margo just scoffed bitterly as she lit a cigarette, blowing out her first breath of smoke. “Well, a lotta places make you split your tips with the staff. Bouncers, bartenders, kitchen staff if the place serves food…If you’re really in a shit hole, management takes a good chunk outta ya too.” Margo spoke like she knew from experience how frustrating it was, which Sophie had no doubt that she did. “S’not nearly as glamorous as it looks. It takes thick skin and a hell of a lot of patience.”

Sophie’s jaw tightened with determination, like she was gearing up to run a marathon with her head held high. “I think I could handle it,” she said confidently, eyeing Margo in her peripheral vision to see her reaction like she was testing her.

“I don’t doubt it one bit, babygirl,” Margo just smiled softly, affectionate despite how much she dreaded the idea. “You’d be a star attraction.”

A blush flooded the younger woman’s cheeks again as she let her shoulders relax.

Monae came up behind them after her time on the floor. “Another night, another drunken asshole spilling scotch on my shoes,” she sighed, unstrapping her deathly high heels and dangling them from her finger, “You enjoying yourself, Sophie?”

“It’s so cool.” she grinned back at her genuinely, moving out of the way as another girl queued up to go on stage after Jill, “You do this every night?”

“Just about. It pays the bills. And it’s a great workout.”

That just sounded like another positive in Sophie’s eyes.

“You want a drink, honey?” Margo fussed with the blonde bangs that Jill had feathered with hairspray back in the dressing room.

Sophie just nodded. “Yeah, I’m getting kinda thirsty.”

“Go on with Monae, I’ll get you some water from the bar,” the brunette kissed her temple softly, making Sophie giggle as she nodded and thanked her before going back to the dressing room with Monae.

“So what’s your plan once y’all get to LA?” Monae smiled at Sophie when she sank down on the old couch on the edge of the dressing room, lighting a cigarette for herself after the blonde politely rejected her offer for one.

“Um…I’m not sure. I’m just kind of following along with whatever Margo wants. She’s the one with the plans and connections,” she answered honestly.

“Well, just be careful. I love the girl and all, but she’s a magnet for trouble. This ain’t the first time she’s tried to get out of Alba. But I’m sure you know all about her adventures with Jackass Jed.”

Sophie just forced her lips to curl into a small smile, though she had no idea who ‘Jackass Jed’ was or what adventures Margo had been on with him.

“But I’m glad she met you on that trip to New York. I know she really needed a friend and I hate that I couldn’t be there to help her. I don’t remember her mentioning you on the phone when she called me while she was there. God, I’ve never heard her so distressed.”

“O-oh, she must’ve…met me after. It was just one night, maybe it was her last night there. I know it was mine,” she lied through her teeth, waving a dismissive hand. Thankfully, Monae just nodded in acceptance as she flicked the ashes of her cigarette into the small glass tray on the coffee table.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and grab a drink for myself. Be right back.”

Sophie just nodded with a polite smile and watched her go, leaving her alone in the dressing room with a few girls she hadn’t met. She felt so out of place with her hair and makeup done but still in such plain day clothes. Not to mention she didn’t feel like she had nearly as much to offer in the looks department as the rest of these girls. Everything about her was so ordinary. Back in high school she was the homecoming queen, but that didn’t mean she had confidence. If anything, she was pretty sure people only voted for her because they loved Graham. Especially after years of abuse, she found it hard to harness even an ounce of confidence most of the time. It wasn’t until she met Margo that she felt worthy of attention. But apparently Margo was the only person whose attention she felt brave under.

She sat twiddling her thumbs on the couch in silence, surrounded by the chatter of girls and muffled bass from the music. Minutes ticked by with no sign of Margo or Monae. Even Jill came back into the room after her shift on the floor.

“Have you seen Margo?” she asked after getting up and crossing the room to Jill’s vanity, “She was getting me a water last I saw her.”

“No, honey, I haven’t seen her since I went on stage,” Jill’s brows knit together in the mirror, “I saw Monae out there just a little bit ago. She said she was getting a drink, so I assume they would’ve crossed paths.”

Sophie just nodded, twisting her lips curiously. When they had arrived, Margo told her to stay by her side and not go anywhere on her own outside of the dressing room. On the off chance that Margo stopped to talk to an old friend, she didn’t want to disobey her by venturing out by herself to look for her. “Can I sit here with you?” she asked Jill almost shyly.

“Of course! Pull up a chair! I don’t go on again for another half hour, so we can chat!” Jill was practically giddy that she had someone to talk to. But no matter how hard she tried, Sophie couldn’t focus on Jill’s animated storytelling about her son who had just learned to spell his own name.

“But of course, he’s not great with his R’s or L’s just yet. He calls himself ‘Bwad-wy’, which is the most adorable thing.” Jill babbled on, not noticing that while she was showing Sophie photo after photo of him from inside her vanity drawer, the blonde’s attention was also on the clock behind her head. She hadn’t seen Margo in a while. Minutes continued to pass tirelessly.

Eventually, Monae strolled back in with the remains of a fruity drink from the bar, but Margo was still nowhere to be found.

“Monae, have you seen Margo?” Sophie stood to meet her halfway, feeling her stomach drop at the way the woman’s face scrunched up in confusion just as Jill’s had.

“No, I thought she was getting you some water.”

“She hasn’t come back yet. It’s been…” she glanced back at the clock. She didn’t know exactly how long it had been, but she knew it was too long. “She wasn’t out there talking to anyone at the bar or anything?” she asked again, starting to get even more nervous.

Monae shook her head. “I’ll help you look, give me one second.”

Sophie didn’t have the guts to tell her that she didn’t have a second. She’d already let too many seconds go by and now Margo could be anywhere. No matter how high class this place seemed, it was still a strip club full of sleazeballs. She practically stormed out of the dressing room and searched the halls. Each stairwell and broom closet that turned up empty just added to her anxiety. At this point she didn’t care about getting a lecture about her safety if Margo caught her wandering around alone. If anything, she was prepared to be angry at Margo for making her worry if the older woman was just out on the floor making small talk. But until she could verify that she was safe, all Sophie felt was worry.

She drew back a curtain and stepped out onto the floor, searching in the dark for her. If this place didn’t reek of alcohol and cologne, Sophie probably could’ve sniffed Margo out like a bloodhound following the scent of her perfume. But it was impossible. Her throat was getting dry from more than just thirst. Every table she passed, every head that turned, Margo was nowhere to be found. She checked the women’s restroom unsuccessfully. Desperate, she even stormed into the men’s room— ignoring every cat call from the random men in there that were doing lines of coke off the sink.

Still no Margo.

“Fuck,” she ran a hand through her styled hair, not caring that she was messing it up.

After stopping at the bar, she learned that Margo hadn’t even been there. The bouncer at the front door hadn’t seen her. Sophie was one ‘no’ away from kicking down the manager’s door down the hall from the dressing room. She practically stomped down the back hallway after checking the wings of the stage one last time, following the glowing red exit sign above the metal door at the end. She shoved it open with so much force that it crashed against the brick wall on the other side.

“Jesus fuck,” a startled, raspy voice gritted out into the warm night air over the echo of the door slamming into the wall and the faint low groaning from around the corner of the building.

“Margo?” Sophie eyed the brunette that was standing against the wall with a cigarette incredulously, unsure if she should hug her or yell at her, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting and looking for you for like an hour!” She opted for the latter.

Margo just stared ahead at the row of cars in the back parking lot, giving a slight shrug as Sophie stepped into her space.

“Seriously, what the fuck?! You scared the hell out of me and you’re just out here smoking a cigarette like it’s nothing?! What was I supposed to th—“ she cut herself off when she saw the tint of bruising just around Margo’s left cheek. Along with the slight swelling of her eye and her smudged makeup, Sophie couldn’t help but step closer to inspect. “What happened?”

Nothing. Just another puff of smoke into the air.

Sophie stood on her tiptoes and carefully took her face into her hands, cupping her jaw and lightly brushing her thumb over the bruising. “Margo. Look at me. What happened? Who—“ she stopped when Margo pulled her face from her hands. Another pained groan came from the alley around the corner.

“Just wanted a cigarette before we go,” she muttered with a smile as bright and shiny as always, like nothing was wrong, “You ready?” she asked rhetorically, already headed back inside. Sophie followed her, mystified as she watched Margo say a quick goodbye as she grabbed her purse, keeping her head down and not getting too close to anyone. She was hiding from them. “Come on,” she grabbed Sophie’s hand and dragged her out of the club and towards the truck that was parked in the back.

“Margo—“

“Hey! Fucking bitch!” a strained male voice reached Sophie’s ears as they approached the truck. Looking behind them, she saw a man in blue jeans that were just light enough for her to make out the blood stains that were pooled around the inseam. He was hobbling in pain as fast as he could towards them, which wasn’t very fast considering whatever had happened to him. But Sophie’s eyes still widened in panic at the sight of him.

“Get in, Sophie. Now!” the brunette snapped, already grinding the truck into gear as Sophie piled into the passenger seat. The wheels were skidding in reverse before she even had her door shut. The sound of a thud against the tailgate and then a body on pavement followed before she even had a chance to collect her thoughts. And with a loud screech, the cherry red truck was on the road.

Sophie looked behind them just in time to see the bloodied man on his back in the parking lot. But he was gone in seconds as Margo sped down the road away from the club. “What the fuck?!” she panted, wide-eyed and trying to catch her breath as she stared at Margo who seemed way too calm, “Who was that? What the hell is going on?!”

“I’ll explain later. Just…just relax for right now, okay?” Margo sounded more frantic than she looked as she gripped the wheel like a vise.

“You want me to relax?!” Sophie stared at her like she had three heads, “No, I think I deserve to know what the hell just happened back there! And where you’ve been!”

As she drove, Margo reached into the neckline of her dress and pulled out a few crumpled twenty dollar bills, tossing them into Sophie’s lap hastily. “I did what I had to do to get some fucking money, okay? I was down to my last hundred and this is all that fucker had on him.”

Sophie looked at the crumpled up money in her lap, connecting the dots. “You—“

“Yeah. I did. I did, and it’s what I do. It’s what works for me. If you wanna stick around, you’re gonna have to get used to it!”

Tears began to form in her eyes as itchy heat filled her cheeks. “Why should I? Why should I have to get used to it?”

“Cause this is how things are gonna be, Sophie! We’ve been over this!” Margo responded with just as much loud emotion. Not quite anger, but not sadness either. “It sucks! It really fucking sucks, but these are the cards I was dealt and this is the game I gotta play to make it in this world!”

Tears streamed down the younger woman’s cheeks. She didn’t take her eyes off Margo the whole time. She couldn’t see the bruise on her cheek or the swelling below her eye from here, but she knew it was there. And in the passing streetlights, she could see the pain behind the usually fiery blue eyes as they focused on the road. “I don’t wanna get used to it,” she whispered sadly, “You shouldn’t be used to it either.”

Margo was quiet for a few moments. The only noise between them was the rumble of the truck and Sophie’s gentle sniffling. “Well…I am. Never known anythin’ else.”

“Pack up, we gotta go,” Margo said curtly when they entered their motel room.

“Where are we going?” Sophie practically whimpered, hating that this was how their night was ending.

“Outta Vegas. Might head north for now,” she muttered back distractedly, hauling her suitcase onto the bed.

“But LA’s only like four hours west from here. We could make it there by tom—.”

“And people know we’re headed there. Might just have to stop in San Francisco after all.”

Sophie just watched her as she disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth with a ridiculous amount of aggression. Like she was trying to scrub something out and away. And it made Sophie sick to think that that was exactly what she was doing. But the blonde just cried quietly to herself as she packed her bag. She knew her makeup looked like a mess. And between the heat of the Nevada night and the stress of the last hour, she knew that the rhinestones that Jill had carefully placed at the edges of her eyelids had probably melted off by now.

She thought about the small wads of cash Margo had stuffed into the glovebox when they arrived at the motel. Her head pounded as she pieced the puzzle together. Margo offered to get her a drink to buy herself time to get money by doing god knows what with some random patron at the club. The blood at the zip of his jeans, the bruising on Margo’s face. It was all adding up quickly.

“If a man ever put his hands on me like that…he’d get a warning shot to the balls…and then I’d send him straight to hell where he belongs.”

Margo’s voice from the night they met echoed in her mind as she sat on the edge of the bed, holding onto the sleep shirt she tossed onto the floor this morning.

“Come on, we gotta get outta here,” the older woman’s voice was more gentle as she came out of the bathroom with handfuls of toiletries to stuff in her bag.

“Who’s Jed?” Sophie asked— quiet and sudden without turning to face her. She didn’t need to see her to know that her question had stopped Margo in her tracks, “What happened to him?”

Margo just sighed and began stuffing her belongings into her suitcase again. “He’s just…an old client.”

“Why does Monae call him Jackass Jed?” Sophie turned to face her again.

“Sophie, please just get packed up so we can g—“

“No! Tell me,” tears brimmed at her eyes as she tried to sound angry and demanding. But her voice just came out shaky and scared, like she didn’t really want to know the truth. “Did he hurt you? While you were in New York with him?”

Margo stilled, looking around for nothing in an attempt to distract herself. “Long before then, darlin’,” she forced out a chuckle. But when she looked back at the blonde, she looked anything but amused. “Sophie—“

“Tell me.”

Margo’s shoulders dropped, frustrated. “Yeah, okay? He would beat the shit outta me,” she sighed with a shrug, “I was too loud, too mouthy. I wasn’t the obedient little slave he wanted me to be! I’m not the type to just keep my head down and shut up. But I tried to be. Cause the money…I couldn’t pass up money like that. New York was just one of a bunch of times. But when we got back to Texas…I’d had enough.”

Sophie just stared at her, waiting and watching as angry tears formed in Margo’s eyes.

“One night, I told him I was done. It wasn’t worth the money. And he got really drunk and really fuckin’ angry. That night I couldn’t even breathe in his direction without gettin’ hit. So…I did what I always told myself I’d do. Warnin’ shot, then…” she trailed off with a finger gun and fluttering fingers in the air beside her head, letting the gesture speak for itself.

“But…but h-how—“

“Kyle. Kid’s got connections like crazy. Covered it up like it was nothin’ and…I got away. Back to Alba, but…away from Jed. Never had to worry about him again.”

Sophie was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice her jaw was hanging open. “But that guy tonight, y-you didn’t—“

Margo just shrugged and zipped up her suitcase. “Already got one problem Kyle needs to take care of when we get there. Didn’t wanna give him too much work. So…the jackass just got the warnin’ shot.”

A lump grew in Sophie’s throat at the mention of Graham. She didn’t know what ‘getting rid of the problem’ meant, but whatever it was Margo had prioritized it over herself. She stayed silently seated on the edge of the bed, still clutching her sleep shirt between nervously wringing hands as she glanced down at her lap. She could hear Margo moving around her before her weight sank the mattress right beside her.

“Baby, look at me,” she commanded softly, waiting until tearful blue eyes found her own before she continued. “This,” she gestured around them, “Is dangerous. Trouble follows me everywhere I go even if I don’t go lookin’ for it. I promised to keep you safe. But keepin’ you safe mean havin’ the money to protect you. Food, shelter, gas to get from here to there. You just gotta trust me, okay? Please, Sophie.”

The blonde looked into her eyes, feeling herself breaking down again at the sight of the purple hue of the bruising on her cheek. She hated this. “If being safe means having to watch you suffer then I’d rather be in danger,” she whispered sadly, reaching up to gently stroke her fingertips over the bruise, “I’d rather…I’d rather go back to Boston if it means you’ll be safe.”

Margo shook her head, pressing her forehead against hers in earnest. “That ain’t gonna happen. Not on my watch. Only way you’re goin’ back to Boston is if you want to for your sake. Not mine. But from what you’ve told me, there’s nothin’ back there that’s callin’ your name.”

Sophie nodded as Margo caught her tears with her thumbs. There really wasn’t anything in Boston for her anymore. There wasn’t anything there for her in the first place. What did she have there? A marriage to an abusive husband that wouldn’t allow her to live her own life? Emotionless parents who probably couldn’t care less that she was missing? As much as she hated her current predicament with Margo, she knew she would rather walk through fire with her than go back to the life she led before. She wrapped her arms around Margo’s neck, burying her face against the smoky smelling skin under her ear. Mixed with that oh so familiar perfume, Sophie fell deep into her embrace, letting the scent of Margo lure her into comfort.

“I love you,” she blubbered through tears, muffling her confession into Margo’s neck.

The brunette’s grip on her tightened as she kissed around her shoulder, her neck, under her ear, and up to her temple. “I love you too, sweet girl,” she whispered back, smoothing blonde hair down against her back, “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”

Sophie pulled back just enough to kiss her firmly, crying against her lips as she poured every bit of emotion she had into the kiss and begging to feel it reciprocated. To her relief, she wasn’t left wanting. Margo kissed her back with just as much passion— absorbing Sophie into her.

Hugging her again, the younger woman just sighed as her cries dissolved into sniffles. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” she whimpered into her ear, cuddling into her as close as she could.

“We will,” Margo nodded, “We will, baby. I promise.”

Chapter Text

“Oh, fuck, Sophie! Yes, right there, baby,” Margo panted heavily with her fingers nearly ripping blonde hair from the roots as Sophie’s head bobbed between her thighs. She didn’t know what had gotten into the younger woman, but the moment they set foot into their little Hawthorne motel room, she was all over her. They were both exhausted from the day, the night, and the four hour drive through the desert in the middle of the night. Despite the exhaustion, she let herself be laid down on the dingy mattress so Sophie could do whatever she wanted to her. In a way, she felt like she owed it to her after the chaos of the long evening. But it felt like she should’ve been the one on her knees, groveling between Sophie’s legs for forgiveness.

Sophie on the other hand wasn’t groveling. No, she was laying her claim— taking back what she felt had been taken from her. Regardless of what Margo did with that slimy stranger back in Vegas, she was hers. As little confidence as she had in her own ability to please Margo, she was determined to remind her of her presence and her devotion with lips wrapped around her clit and three fingers buried deep inside her.

Margo’s body seized up when she reached her peak, not caring who could hear her through the thin walls when she cried out in pleasure. Sophie sucked her fingers clean and kissed her way up her heaving chest, smirking proudly at how Margo trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm and kissed her slowly.

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” Margo breathed into the kiss, holding her tightly to her. “Surprised you had the energy for that after the drive.”

Sophie blushed and brushed her nose with hers. “Love you,” she murmured, not being able to get enough of saying it to her over the last few hours since the first time back at their motel in Vegas.

“Mm, love you too, sweet girl.” Margo just hummed against her, rolling onto her side to tuck a thigh between hers, pressing with purpose.

“Where are we headed?” the blonde yawned and curled up with her, trying not to get too excited. It was nearly 5:00 in the morning and she had a feeling that if Margo tried to return the favor, she just might fall asleep in the middle of it.

“Reno. It’s about three hours from San Francisco,” Margo stroked blonde hair back from her eyes, still kissing her gently between sentences, “Maybe we can get some more money there.”

Sophie frowned a little, ducking her eyes to the bruise on Margo’s cheek.

Margo caught the way her eyes averted and her blissful smile turned down, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Just from gamblin’, baby. That’s all.” She traced a fingernail from the wrinkle between Sophie’s brows down to the tip of her nose over and over until she was yawning and struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You promise?” she asked quietly, bringing her sleepy blue eyes up to meet hers again.

Margo just nodded with a reassuring smile. “I promise. Sleep, babygirl. We’ll come up with a plan in the mornin’.”

“It is morning,” Sophie mumbled, already half asleep.

“Then we’ll do it in the afternoon. Sleep.”

Sophie was out like a light in just a few seconds, but Margo had too many thoughts running around in her mind to sleep as easily. She didn’t want to let Sophie down or disappoint her. How was she supposed to make decent money without doing what she knew best? She didn’t graduate high school, she had no useful skills aside from the ones she already used to survive. But she was realizing that no amount of money was worth seeing the hurt in Sophie’s eyes and hearing it in her voice. She knew she needed to find another way. For Sophie.

“I love you,” she whispered into her hairline, “I’m gonna figure this out for us.”

They were about thirty minutes away from Reno. Sophie was behind the wheel of the truck while Margo was in the passenger seat with a foot on the dashboard so she could paint her toenails.

“Do you even know how to gamble? Like at the tables and stuff?” Sophie asked, peering over at her curiously.

Margo fanned the dark red paint on her toes after capping the little glass vile. “What do you think?” She smirked.

Sophie just laughed and nodded. “Okay, fair. But are you any good at it?”

Snorting, Margo shrugged. “I think it’s safe to say if I was, we wouldn’t be here right now. But who knows. It’s all about luck, right?”

“Some more than others. I can’t even win anything off one of those scratch-off tickets.”

“Well, maybe your luck’ll change today.”

The younger woman smiled with lightly flushed cheeks, biting her lip as she continued down the highway until she pulled off and onto the exit for Reno. Margo took over behind the wheel after one last stop for gas since she would do a little better with navigating the city streets, and eventually they ended up parking the truck in the back of a tall hotel that practically glittered in the sun.

“Aren’t we going to the casino?”

“This is a casino. Just happens to be in a hotel.” Margo explained as they climbed out of the truck, leading Sophie by the hand to the front and into the lobby. It was just as bustling inside as it was, out. Sounds from the casino echoed into the fancy lobby as well as the smoke of cigars and cigarettes. Sophie looked around with wide-eyed wonder like she had back at Monae’s high-rise apartment in Vegas while Margo walked her through the cloud of smoke and into the dimly lit casino. Everywhere she looked were slot machines and crowded tables for cards, dice, and roulette wheels.

“Stay right here.” Margo instructed, leaving Sophie by the entrance before walking confidently towards the cashier counter. Sophie watched from her spot as Margo laid on the charm as she exchanged cash and a glance at her ID for quarters and two small buckets to hold any winnings. When she returned, she put five of the quarter rolls and one of the buckets into Sophie’s hands. Fifty dollars for each of them. “Pick a slot machine, cutie.”

“Me?”

“Of course, you.”

Sophie bit her lip and looked around. There were several rows of the same machine with a few other types of machines scattered throughout. She spotted one with faded pink and red hearts on the sides, gravitating towards it with Margo in tow. Almost shyly, she approached the machine and sat in the stool, watching Margo sit at the machine beside her. “Do I literally just put a quarter in and pull the lever?”

“Exactly that,” Margo nodded, already doing it and bringing her machine to life.

Sophie looked back at her own machine and took in a deep breath before sliding a quarter in and pulling the clicking lever. The wheels spun and lit up in front of her, landing on three different symbols. Nothing happened. She didn’t know what she expected, but she tried it again and again until something happened: the machine played a victorious little sound and blinked a few lights before ten quarters came clanking into the little metal dish below the machine. “That’s it?” she chuckled, almost offended that she landed on two cherry symbols and only got $2.50 as a reward.

“Hey, it’s somethin’,” Margo chuckled, pulling her own lever.

Determined, Sophie loaded another quarter into the machine and pulled the lever, watching the wheels tease her with the possibility of becoming filthy rich off a 25 cent bet. As time passed, the sounds of cheers and ringing machines around them just made her more determined. An old lady a few machines down won $100. The sound of her winning quarters falling from her machine was both inspiring and infuriating. Sophie’s own quarters were dwindling quickly. She looked over at Margo’s machine as it spat out $20 in winnings. Meanwhile the most her own machine had given her in the last five minutes was fifty cents.

“I’m getting sick of losing,” she snorted bitterly, pulling the lever again uselessly.

“Sorry, babygirl. You can try another machine if y’want. Just don’t go too far. I’m gonna stick with this one for a while.”

Sophie nodded and gathered what quarters she had left and stood up. Before she could walk away, she was pulled gently to Margo’s side and a small, secret kiss was dropped to her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world if you don’t win anything. It’s a gamble. They just want your money and feed off people’s hopes like piranhas.” Sophie just sighed, almost pouting as Margo squeezed her arm. “I mean it, Sophie. If you play to win you’re not gonna have any fun.”

“I thought the point was to win,” she huffed.

Margo just chuckled again. “I guess it is, but if everyone who played won as much as they wanted to, then the whole system would fall apart.” Sophie’s face fell a bit as she ducked her head, but it quickly snapped back up when she felt a light, encouraging pat to her thigh. “Go find another game, okay? Just try to have fun, no stress.”

“No stress” was not in Sophie’s vocabulary. But she nodded and smiled when Margo kissed her cheek before she wandered off on her own. She knew that this was all about luck, she just wished that she would be one of the lucky ones. She still had a decent amount in cash to last them a while, but it wouldn’t last forever. And she knew that they weren’t too far from getting to LA. That was where her worries lied: what would become of their finances when they got there? How would she be able to make money? How would she be able to cope with Margo’s way of making money?

And what would happen to them if she couldn’t?

Sitting down in a stool not too far away, she sighed and loaded in another quarter. She picked a spot where she could still see Margo and vice versa, not wanting to risk getting separated beyond their own control. The older woman shot her a wink that had her blushing— making her at least feel a little less miserable after losing quarter after quarter in the slot machine. Her funds were dwindling quickly in her little bucket of coins. She wasn’t religious, but she started praying with each pull of the lever that she would get something good. Her face lit up when she won $10 on a single spin, but her smile continued to falter with each dud that followed.

After fluctuating between small wins and big losses for the better part of an hour, Sophie found herself down to her last quarter. She held it tightly and closed her eyes like she was about to toss it into a fountain and make a wish. She put every bit of hope she could muster into that one quarter, hoping that it would be a miraculous success. With a deep breath, she slid the quarter into the machine and grabbed onto the ball at the tip of the lever. Taking one look back at Margo who had moved to a different machine not too long ago, she held her breath and thought about what things could be like for them if she won. They could get a place of their own, maybe an apartment, and decorate it with all their favorite things. She pictured them walking around department stores, picking out linens and fighting over paint swatches. The life she thought she wanted with Graham, she could picture it so clearly with Margo. She could work at a subtle little bookstore or flower shop while Margo made a living as an aspiring actress that worked odd jobs by day. And they could come back to each other every night to the home they created after fate threw them together. They could have it all. She just needed some luck. If it was meant to work out for them, this pull of the lever would be the last she would ever need. This one pull would change everything.

She bit hard on the inside of her cheek and pulled the lever down, rattling her mind with every click before she let go, watching the wheels begin to turn.

An array of symbols stopped before her, and the machine did nothing. No flashing lights, no crazy bells and sirens. Nothing. It just glared back at her, almost antagonizingly, and Sophie could feel hot tears welling in her eyes as she looked into her empty little bucket. A strange rush of shame washed over her as she remained in her seat, like she had let Margo down by not winning. Rationally, she knew that it was a gamble. The odds of winning enough to change their lives completely were slim to none. But it didn’t ease the slight crack in her heart when reality settled back in, reminding her that they would still have to do things the hard way.

Wiping the single tear that fell from her eye, she got up and walked over to Margo. As hard as she tried to put on a happy face, her fair skin didn’t allow for her to hide the red blotches on her nose and cheeks.

“No luck, huh?” Margo wrapped an arm around her when she slumped against her side.

Sophie just shook her head, trying to hide her sniffle. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Margo tutted in a firm but comforting manner, “Nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’. What’d I tell you? If you think you’re gonna win, you’re gonna leave disappointed.” Sophie just wiped her eyes again and nodded, keeping her gaze on the old patterned carpet. “You want some more money? Maybe try again?” Margo offered, ready to give up some of her quarters. According to how little she had in her bucket, she hadn’t been doing so great either.

Sophie shook her head, letting Margo gently pull her in between her and the slot machine. Denim-clad knees bracketed her hips as she leaned back against Margo’s shoulder.

“You can play with me, then,” Margo smirked, pressing a secret kiss to the back of her neck, “Maybe you’ll be my own little lucky charm.”

“I doubt it,” the blonde shook her head, but let a sad smile curl onto her lips when Margo tickled her side. Margo slid a quarter into the slot and Sophie pulled the lever. Sometimes Sophie would feed the machine and Margo would pull it. They switched back and forth, opting to have fun with it until Sophie started to feel a little better.

“Pull it with me this time,” Sophie giggled, grabbing onto the knob again. Margo just chuckled and wrapped a strong hand around hers, counting down from three for them to pull the lever down together. Sophie giggled again as the wheels spun, not even paying attention to what they landed on. She didn’t know what any of the symbols meant anyway. But the machine lit up in a flash with bells and sirens, making her stop laughing as the noise caught the attention of everyone in the room.

“Did we win something?!” blue eyes widened and she turned to Margo.

“Sure did! Three triple sevens, baby!” Margo practically hollered over the noise, “That’s a jackpot!”

Sophie just looked back at the flashing machine in awe. She didn’t know what the jackpot was. but it had to be good for this kind of commotion. “How come no quarters are coming out?” she asked, getting out from between Margo’s knees.

“Guess an attendant has to cash out jackpots,” Margo looked around, thanking a stranger who came over to congratulate them.

As she had suspected, a man in a starch suit came over to fiddle with the machine, opening it up and turning it off from the inside. “Congratulations on your win! Follow me, please.” He led them back to the cashiers desk. Sophie followed behind Margo with the bucket of leftover quarters in her hands. She felt like she had to pinch herself as she watched $1000 in cash get dealt onto the marble counter. While it was a lot to get off a 25 cent bet, it wasn’t a ridiculous amount of money, nor would it last them very long. But it was something. It was more than they had before, and it would get them that much farther.

“Ain’t you glad we didn’t stop for a motel first?” Margo mused, setting her bag down on the shag carpet of the hotel room a few floors above the casino. A single night was a little under $200, so Margo decided to dip into their winnings to treat herself and Sophie. They deserved at least one nice room after the shady places they had been frequenting on the way from Texas. She also knew that it would take a while for them to get onto their own two feet once they reached LA, and Kyle’s trailer could only hold so many people for so long.

“I guess,” Sophie shrugged, glancing around at the teal colored room with white and gold accents.

“You guess?”

“I mean, this place is great, I just…Are you sure we can afford this?” she sighed, sitting on the edge of one of the two full sized beds, “We’re gonna need every penny.”

Margo sighed and sat across from her on the opposite mattress, leaning in with her elbows on her thighs. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We deserve this, okay? You deserve this.”

Sophie just smiled slightly, ducking and shaking her head before looking over at her backpack. She hadn’t counted her savings in a while. Truthfully, she was afraid to find out that she had way less than she expected. She never had to worry about money before, and she was learning that even thousands of dollars didn’t last very long.

“Why don’t you…” Margo started, patting her own knees before standing up and fetching a room service menu from the dresser, “…pick out somethin’ for dinner while I go run us a bubble bath in that jacuzzi tub.”

Sophie looked up with wide, worried eyes. “Margo, no. Room service, th-that’s way too much—“

“Not for you. Nothin’s too much when it comes to you, alright? Now pick somethin’ out,” the older woman said with a firm softness from the bathroom door— one that made Sophie stiffen like an obedient soldier while warm honey spread through her veins.

With a single nod, Sophie ducked her head back down to look over the menu while Margo began to run the bath. She tried to focus on the food, not the prices. Thankfully nothing was overly pricey, but a single meal was still way more than what they would be paying for two at a drive-thru on the road. Maybe they could get something to split. Surely, the portions had to be generous for the price.

“You pick somethin’ out?” Margo reappeared at the door, leaning casually against the frame.

“Mmhm. Their pasta looks really good.”

The brunette crossed the room to meet her on the edge of the bed where she left her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Go ahead and get in the bath, I’ll call it in for after.”

Sophie shuddered at the kiss and husky tone of her voice, unable to deny the gravitational pull that made her turn to kiss Margo slowly.

“Go on,” Margo hummed, patting the side of Sophie’s thigh twice before reaching for the phone on the nightstand between the two beds.

Sophie stood, sighing quietly to herself as she approached the bathroom. The jacuzzi tub was already filled to the brim with floral scented bubbles. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a bubble bath, and it looked so inviting. Shedding her clothes into a pile by the sink, she stepped into the bathtub, hissing slightly when the hot water hit her skin. But she sank into it gratefully, letting it soothe every sore muscle she had accumulated over the past two weeks of running.

“Water okay?” Margo appeared in the doorway not long after, already peeling clothes off one by one to join her. “Scoot up for me, baby,” she instructed gently, waiting for Sophie to clear some space so she could slide in behind her.

After some adjusting, the blonde was content leaned back against Margo’s bare chest, safely fenced in by long, sturdy legs. Margo’s arms wrapped around her middle and Sophie rested her arms on top of hers as she leaned her head back onto her shoulder, sighing peacefully.

“Food should be delivered around six. Figured that should give us enough time,” the older woman mumbled between kisses to Sophie’s neck. But words were going in one ear and out the other as Sophie was trying her hardest not to fall asleep, giving small hums as responses. With her back turned, Margo didn’t seem to notice how tired Sophie was. She began to rub up and down her inner thigh under the water as she continued to place kisses around her neck and shoulder— one hand eventually traveling up to palm at her breasts, rolling sensitive, bubble-covered nipples between her fingers.

Sophie mewled around a gulp, lifting her head from Margo’s shoulder. It felt good, it really did. But she was just so tired. But Margo seemed to be in the mood for sex, and Sophie was bare naked pressed against her in a romantic bubble bath she had prepared for them. Flicking her tongue over her lips, Sophie just squirmed in place under Margo’s touch, unsure of how to react. There had been plenty of times that she didn’t want to have sex with Graham, but he didn’t give her much of a choice whether he complained until he got what he wanted or took what he wanted anyway. It felt different with Margo, though. Sophie didn’t want to say no to her, but she didn’t want to disappoint her or let her down either. Not to mention, she felt like a crazy person for not being in the mood to have sex with Margo in the first place. People would probably kill to be in her spot right now, having Margo Banks’s hands all over them.

“You’re so tense, baby. What’s wrong?” Margo murmured softly, concerned, like she sensed something was off.

“N-nothing, keep going,” Sophie shook her head, trying to move Margo’s hands back to her breasts instead of where they had returned to her sides.

“Sophie. Look at me.” Her voice was so gently demanding that Sophie didn’t even hesitate turning completely in her lap, accidentally sloshing bubbles over the edge of the tub in the process. “What’s going on?” Margo’s hands locked at the small of her back while Sophie perched facing her in her lap with nervous hands on her shoulders for leverage.

Redness filled Sophie’s cheeks from more than just the hot water as she averted her eyes nervously.

“Hey…talk to me, honey. Did I do somethin’ wrong?” a wet hand came up to cup her cheek with care.

“No,” Sophie shook her head, swallowing hard, “I just…I’m not…in the mood for that, I guess. I’m really sorry.” She winced like she was preparing for Margo to blow up and lose her cool. That’s what she was used to. Or at least she used to be before she just started giving in to avoid a fight.

Margo paused, confused at Sophie’s nervousness. “Okay, that’s fine. Is that all?”

Blue eyes snapped back to hers. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“C-cause I don’t wanna have sex or anything right now. Graham used to get really upset…”

“Baby, the only thing I’d get mad about right now is you thinkin’ I’m anything like that asshole husband’a yours,” the brunette chuckled and shook her head, pulling Sophie into a wet, bubbly hug. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for, y’hear me? I’m not gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t wanna do.”

“I just thought…y’know, you ran a romantic bath and we’re in here together…”

“I ran a bath cause we deserve it,” Margo grinned, brushing wet strands of blonde behind Sophie’s ear, “I got no problem just layin’ in here together til we get pruny.”

Sophie shifted, relieved but still stunned. “Really?” She certainly wasn’t used to this, “But you wanted to.”

“I do. I always want you,” Margo smirked, leaning up to kiss her forehead, “But I’m not some animal who can’t control itself. I can wait for you.”

Sophie blushed and bit back a smile, which was immediately caught by the older woman. “Maybe later?” she suggested shyly.

“Whenever you want. C’mere,” Margo gently tugged her forward until her chest was flush with hers and Sophie’s arms were wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. “I love you, okay? I’d never do anything to hurt you. Not on purpose anyway. Can’t promise I won’t fuck somethin’ up.”

Sophie just giggled into the side of her neck, breathing in her scent and letting it soothe her like it always did. “I love you too,” she yawned, “Potential future fuck ups and all.”

Chapter Text

Margo placed a hand protectively on the small of Sophie’s back as they walked into the small bar. They’d been exploring San Francisco all day since they left their cozy hotel room in Reno this morning. As tired as they were now that the sun was setting, they weren’t quite ready to call it a night just yet. There was still so much to see and do.

“C’mon,” Margo took the younger woman’s hand and led her towards the high-top bar. It was a quaint little spot. Nothing fancy like in Vegas, but not as sleazy as the bars back around Alba. Just a nice little hangout spot where two women could feel at home in the company of what seemed to be mostly other women. “Pick your poison, Boston,” she smirked, plucking a menu off the wooden bar and handing it to Sophie.

Sophie eyed the menu, biting her lip as she perused her options. She tried not to think about it, but she was reminded of how in the past, Graham never let her choose. But she tried to brush the thought of him aside and not worry about whether or not he was still in critical condition. As much as she wanted him dead after everything he ever did to her, a part of her really hoped that he survived. Not only to kill her guilty conscience, but to save her from a potential murder charge if she were ever found. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the thought and put the menu down. “Something strong,” she muttered out her decision.

Two gin & cokes later, she was relaxing just enough to forget about Graham and the idea of her face on a wanted poster. Instead, she followed Margo to the pool tables and watched from the sidelines as she started placing bets. She learned while on the road that Margo had been shooting pool since she was tall enough to see over the tables at the local bar her mom would drag her to almost every night. So Sophie didn’t even question it when Margo bet a woman with curly hair and a ripped denim vest $100.

“Come rack’em up for us, baby,” Margo beckoned her over, handing her the plastic triangle with a smirk, “This here’s my good luck charm,” she explained to the other women around the table, making Sophie blush when that possessive and protective hand found the small of her back again when she bent over the table to gather the balls.

The blonde watched from the sidelines, nursing her third gin & coke. She was starting to think there was nothing that woman couldn’t do. Even her singing voice wasn’t as bad as she claimed it to be. Between her turns, Margo would join her on the wall, hold her close and whisper things in her ear that made her blush all the way down to her toes. It was nice not having to worry about being judged for their relationship in a place like this. And she had to admit, watching Margo get jealous and possessive when Sophie got approached by other women did something to her she didn’t even understand— but she knew she liked it.

The first game flew by. Margo lost, but made it clear to Sophie through a smirk and wink that it was all according to her plan. After requesting best two out of three for double or nothing, she won the second. A break was called before the third, giving the women time to get another drink or smoke a cigarette. But Margo dragged Sophie away to the single occupancy bathroom, pressing her firmly against the door as she locked it behind them.

“You? You’re mine, y’hear me?” Margo groped at her possessively, obviously still pent up from watching Sophie get flirted with relentlessly throughout the night, “Tell me you’re my girl, Sophie.”

The younger woman just gasped, “Yours,” nodding and breathless when a strong thigh settled between hers. Part of her wanted to see what would happen if she made some kind of smartass comment rather than agreeing— poke the bear and enjoy the consequences. But Margo had a game to win and she knew there was a slim chance of them leaving this tiny bathroom anytime soon if she tried.

Margo smirked and pulled Sophie’s bottom lip between her teeth with a devilish grin, making her whimper with want. “Good girl.” She kissed her firmly once more before pulling the door open again and slipping out alone, leaving Sophie with her head spinning and knees threatening to give out.

Stumbling back into the pool hall, Sophie subtly fixed her hair as she reclaimed her spot by the wall, watching Margo circle the table with her pool stick like a hawk. The woman she was playing against this round was good, but not good enough. By the end of the game Margo had won another $100.

“Anyone else?” the brunette asked as she counted her winnings, chuckling at the negative hum of responses from everyone who didn’t dare challenge her again.
Sophie just giggled quietly, eyeing the small crowd around them to see if anyone was even considering it. But everyone looked pretty defeated. “Nice job,” she grinned when Margo approached.

“S’all in the wrists,” she smirked, sliding the $300 in winnings into Sophie’s back pocket, “Hold onto that. I’m gonna go make a quick phone call. Let Kyle know we should be there tomorrow.”

“Okay. Do you want anything else to drink?”

“I’m good, but you get whatever you want, ‘kay?”
Sophie nodded with a slight blush creeping onto her face when Margo kissed her forehead before making her way to the exit. There were plenty of payphones inside, but the one in the booth outside was ideal for privacy.

Once she reached the glass booth across the gravel parking lot, Margo balanced the payphone between her shoulder and her ear while she dug for dimes and other spare change in the pockets of her shorts. It was a few days later than what she said the last time she updated Kyle— and it was way later than she originally planned on getting to LA. But if anything, that was just less time he had to worry about her and Sophie taking up his space.

She listened to the trill of the dial tone after she punched his phone number onto the faded chrome buttons, leaning against the wall of the booth while she waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” she breathed with a smile, happy to hear his voice, “It’s me.”

“Well, shit. Was startin’ to wonder if I had to send out a search party. Where you been?”

“Took a little detour after Vegas. Just to…buy some time,” she bit her lip, not wanting to tell him about the guy she shot and hit with her car. Kyle may have been her younger brother, but ever since he moved to California, it seemed like he was cleaning up her messes more than the other way around like it should’ve been. Like it used to be. “In San Francisco now.”

“How’d you do in Vegas?”

“Uh…not so great, really. Maybe I’m just gettin’ too old or somethin’,” she joked nervously, “Got a whole new generation of competition.”

“So you ain’t got your share?”

“I got some. Won a jackpot in Reno.”

“How much?”

“A grand.”

“A grand? Mandy, you were supposed to be here two weeks ago with at least three grand.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. We’ve just been tryin’ to cut costs on gas and motel rooms, but—“

“Hold on, who’s ‘we’?” he cut in.

Margo was quiet, unsure of how to answer when she knew how Kyle felt about Sophie.

“Shit, Mand, tell me you’re not still totin’ around that runaway.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut as she took a deep breath. “You don’t understand—“

“No, you don’t understand! Do you have any idea what could happen if you bring her around here? You wanna bring a fucking wanted criminal into my house? Have you lost your damn mind?”

Margo tightened her jaw, trying to keep her composure. “Rich, talkin’ about her bein’ a criminal like you’re some fuckin’ angel, Kyle.”

“That’s my business, Mandy. That’s
our business, not hers. You ain’t bringin’ her to LA. You sure as shit ain’t bringin’ her here.”

“Kyle—“ a tear fell slowly from her eye.

“No, it’s bad enough you don’t even have the money you promised.”

“I’ll get the money. I’ll get more than what I promised, okay? Just…let me get us there and get settled—“

“I ain’t lettin’ her stay here. It’s too risky. You of all people should know that and I don’t know what the fuck she’s told you to make you forget.”

She was quiet as she squeezed her eyes shut, holding onto the phone with both hands. “I love her, Kyle. I told her I would protect her, I promised her that.”

“And now look where it’s got ya. You were fuckin’ stupid enough to pick her up in the first place, but to keep her around knowin’ she’s dangerous? Now you’re sayin’ you love her? What the fuck happened to you, Mandy?”

“She’s not dangerous.”

“She could be dangerous for us. We gotta cover our own asses. I ain’t lettin’ her fuck anything up!”

“She won’t!”

“That’s right, she won’t! Cause if you show up here tomorrow with her, I’m turnin’ her ass in.”

“What?!”

“Y’heard me. I fuckin’ mean it, Mandy. You cannot bring her here. What if she blows our whole operation?”

“She wouldn’t do that. You can’t do this, Kyle, please—“

”No! I’m not budgin’ on this! You got a choice to make, sis. Me or her.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“You’re my brother, Kyle.”

“Exactly. So the choice should be easy. I better see you tomorrow.”

The long dial tone met her ear after he slammed the phone down. She was frozen in place, unable to even place the phone back into the cradle. She had been through a lot of shit in her life, but she never felt so at a loss before. What was she supposed to do? She needed Kyle to fall back on until she could get onto her feet, but Sophie…Sophie had quickly become such an important part of her life. She didn’t care about whatever trouble having her around might get her into. It was all worth it just to have Sophie around.

Finding the strength, she hung the phone in the cradle and took a moment to compose herself. Sophie was waiting for her back in the bar, and she hated to think about how many women could have approached her by now. Wiping any smudged makeup from under her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned on her heel to go back inside; but a familiar set of worried blue eyes stared back at her through the glass.

“Hey, babygirl,” she smiled and opened the small glass door, pulling herself together as if nothing was wrong. She didn’t know how long Sophie had been standing there, but judging by how big and worried those blue eyes were, she had been there for at least a few minutes. “Sorry, that took longer than I thought. What’re you doin’ out here?”

Sophie held up Margo’s snakeskin purse, swallowing a lump in her throat. “You forgot your bag. I didn’t want you to run out of change,” she said meekly.

“Well, ain’t you sweet,” Margo slung it over her shoulder and pulled Sophie in for a hug.

“Why were you crying?”

“I wasn’t.”

“What did Kyle say?”

Margo froze briefly, eyes widening over Sophie’s head where her chin rested. “It’s nothin’, don’t you worry about a thing.” She leaned down to kiss her slowly, but Sophie whimpered slightly against her lips before pulling away.

“Something’s wrong,” her voice trembled slightly as she reached a timid hand up to wipe a tear from the fading bruise on Margo’s cheek.

“Sophie, nothin’s wr—“

“No, there’s something going on. You wouldn’t be crying if nothing was wrong,” Sophie backed away from her.

Margo stepped towards her, whispering, “Baby, come on,” before placing her hands at her hips and trying to kiss her again.

But Sophie shook her head, wiggling out of her arms. “No! Stop trying to…to distract me! You can’t just kiss me and think I’ll forget or let it go!”

“Shh, hey,” Margo soothed, pulling her into her again, “Honey, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. Let’s go get you some water.”

The blonde ripped herself out of her grip again. “What did he say?”

“Sophie—“

“What did he say, Margo? What are you not telling me?”

The older woman sighed and stepped closer again. “Fine. You want the truth? He said if I show up in LA with you, he’s…” she hesitated, closing her eyes tightly and bracing herself for the pain she knew would come with what she was about to say. “He said he’s gonna turn you in.”

Sophie’s breath caught visibly in her throat as she turned white as a sheet.

“But, Sophie, I’m not gonna let him do that. I was just trying to think of a new plan so we don’t have to worry about him or rely on him.”

“I-I…” she stammered, her whole body was beginning to shiver as her blood ran cold, “He can’t—“

“Baby, you gotta understand, he’s…he’s done a lot of shit. He’s just tryin’ to cover his own ass just in case.”

“You’re seriously defending him right now?!” tears brimmed in bloodshot blue eyes that gladed daggers into Margo’s.

“I’m not defendin’ him, I’m explainin’ him! Sophie—“ she reached for her again only to have Sophie avoid her touch entirely with arms wrapped tightly around her middle. “Baby, please just calm down and listen to me. I just need a minute to think of a plan. I’m just as freaked out as you are right now, okay?”

Sophie scoffed as tears began to fall. “Are you? Cause you’re not the one who’s wanted for shooting her husband! You’re not the one who could end up in prison for murdering someone and hiding from the law!”

“You think this ain’t hard on me too?! I always knew Kyle was a fuckin’ bastard, but I didn’t know that he would do somethin’ like this! I’m tryin’ to reroute my whole fuckin’ plan for you! I’m not goin’ to LA without you! I promised I would protect you and I am because I fuckin’ love you, Sophie! I could be cuttin’ out the only family I have, my only safety net, for you!”

Sophie stood stubbornly with her arms folded over her chest and tear stains striped down her cheeks. “I should go back to Boston,” she whispered into the night.

“What? Why?!”

“To turn myself in! Kyle doesn’t want me in LA, he’s not gonna do whatever the fuck he does to cover this up! They’re always gonna be looking for me and the longer I hide, the more trouble I’m gonna be in when they eventually find me!” Sophie pushed past her into the phone booth, already picking up the receiver to call her parents.

“Sophie, no, please don’t do this,” Margo frantically tried to wrestle the phone from her grip, tried to stop her from dialing the number. “You made me promise that I wouldn’t let you leave again, baby, please don’t do this! Just let me figure this out, just give me that chance, please!” She ended up slumping down to her knees with her forehead buried in Sophie’s shirt against her stomach as she sobbed, begging. She gripped hard to her shirt, nails almost ripping through the thin fabric with how tightly she was holding on. “Please, Sophie. Please, I love you so fuckin’ much. I’ll figure this out. Let me figure this out for us! I’ll sell my truck so we can get an apartment around here, in a walkable city, I’ll work a fuckin’ 9-5! I’ll do anything to make it work, to keep you safe, just please don’t leave like this, please!”

Sophie cried harder at the sound of desperation in Margo’s voice along with the muffled cries against her stomach. The phone was still tightly gripped in her hand against her ear— the dial tone taunted her as she struggled to hang it back up. The decision should have been easy, but she was just so torn.

“Please, Sophie.” Margo’s strained whispers sounded thunderous in her ears as tears streamed rapidly down Sophie’s cheeks. With one hand still gripping the phone like a vise, her other found her way to the back of Margo’s head, unconsciously cradling her close while the older woman begged on her knees for a chance, for forgiveness, for anything as long as it meant not losing her. “I’ll fix this, I promise I will, Sophie, just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Sophie couldn’t help but feel stunned. She never knew what it felt like to be wanted, let alone needed like how Margo was making her feel now. She was gripping at her like she would fall straight into the earth if she let go, muttering her name like a prayer. And all Sophie could do was tighten her fingers into highlighted brown hair as the sound of quiet sobs and Margo’s begging became all she could hear over her own heartbeat.

“I can fix this. We can fix this, baby, right? Please don’t leave like this, Sophie. Please don’t leave me,” Margo continued as she stood to her feet towering over her all over again. But besides her height, she still seemed so small, vulnerable in a way Sophie had never seen before.

Still unsure of what to say, Sophie just nodded, whispering “okay” quietly enough that even if someone were right outside the phone booth, they wouldn’t have heard it.

“Okay?” Margo breathed through an incredulous smile, thumbs brushing against her cheeks and lips, making sure she was real, “Yeah?”

Sophie reached across the small booth and hung up the phone. “Yeah.” She couldn’t help her own smile from curling up onto her tear-stained cheeks, especially when Margo’s lips found hers in a kiss that felt like a lifeline.

Margo muttered thank you’s against her lips, pressing against her with so much force that Sophie worried her back would break the glass walls of the booth. But once the relief settled in, Margo was softer, gentler, holding onto her like a porcelain doll so she didn’t break rather than gripping her like she would disappear if she didn’t.

“Please don’t hurt me,” the blonde whispered with desperation in her tearful eyes, “Okay?”

Margo, staring into those deep blues, nodded after a beat— understanding. Sophie had been hurt, let down, and neglected for too long. She had already taken a huge leap by putting her trust in Margo from the start, but this was something else entirely. This wasn’t just getting from point A to point B with a kind stranger anymore. This was point B. For good. A life or death, for better or for worse partnership. With a deep breath, Margo leaned her forehead to Sophie’s, holding the sides of her face in gentle hands. “I would never. Cross my heart.”

Sophie gave a watery smile when Margo made an X over her chest, leaning up to kiss her again. “So what now?”

“Still got a few hours til last call,” Margo sighed. “I say we go get another drink and try to have some fun. Let’s focus on that for tonight. One step at a time.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Sophie, perched on the double bed with her legs crossed, watched Margo pace around their little motel room. Though, she could barely make out the shape of her through the tears that had welled up in her eyes. Margo was packing. Not a lot, but enough to last her through the day trip to Los Angeles by herself.

“Why can’t I come with you?” she asked, sniffling. She felt stupid for crying. She knew she couldn’t go with Margo. As much as she liked to think that Kyle’s threat was just empty words, she couldn’t risk finding out what would happen if she showed up in LA with her. Kyle said he would rat her out if she showed up with Margo. Sophie didn’t know him, obviously. She didn’t know what he did for a living that would make him do such a thing to protect himself. Especially to someone who was so important to his sister. Whatever the reason, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Margo was willing to change her whole plan, potentially lose the relationship she had with her only living family, and start over…all for her. The feeling of being that important to someone was so foreign that she couldn’t help but think that she was the victim of some kind of cruel, elaborate prank.

“Baby, I told you,” the older woman sighed. Sophie looked so small in one of Margo’s oversized t-shirts, cross legged in the middle of the bed with her hair still tousled from sleep, “I can’t risk losin’ you just cause my brother wants to be a fuckin’ asshole. I won’t let him do that to you, to us.”

“I could stay in the car. You’re just dropping off money,” Sophie picked at a little tear in the worn out shirt.

Margo shook her head. “Too risky.” She crawled onto the bed, sitting on her knees in front of Sophie and brushed tangled blonde hair from where it had fallen into her flushed face. “It’s just for today, remember? I’ll be back by tonight.”

Sophie nodded and ducked her head to hide her tears, but leaned into Margo’s touch. “You promise?”

“Course I do. Hate that I gotta go in the first place, but I’m already lookin’ forward to comin’ back and gettin’ a good night’s rest with my girl,” she smirked.

“Really?”

“Mmhm,” Margo nodded before chuckling, “I dunno about you, but I don’t think I know how to sleep alone anymore. Don’t really want to either.”

Sophie just blushed, giggling through her tears, “Me either.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page,” Margo tapped her nose, wiping the tears from her cheeks, “And tomorrow, we’re gonna make a plan. Just you and me. Okay?”

The blonde took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“You still love me?” Margo’s lips curled into a warm, but teasing grin.

“More than anything, I think.”

“You think?”

“I know,” Sophie smiled.

Margo leaned in to kiss her lips. “Well good. Still on the same page, then.” She kissed her again slowly, letting Sophie dig blunt fingernails into her bare shoulders just beyond the fabric of her halter top. She could feel the needy little tug that she’d become so familiar with— the way Sophie subtly pulled her closer and shifted backwards in an attempt to fall back against the mattress with Margo in tow. But the brunette knew that she had a long drive ahead of her, followed by what was hopefully a short visit with Kyle, and another long drive straight back. “I gotta get goin’.” She kissed Sophie’s immediate pout away, swallowing the sad little whine that accompanied it. “You remember what I said?”

“Stay in the room,” Sophie nodded sadly.

“And?”

“And don’t answer the door for anyone.”

Margo kissed her nose, then her forehead. “Good girl.” She sighed and pushed herself off the bed, tearing herself from Sophie and reaching for the stack of napkins that came with last night’s pizza delivery. “If I’m not back by midnight, call this number, okay?”

“How long is the drive?”

“About six hours each way,” she looked at the alarm clock next to the bed. 7:34AM. If she left now, she’d get to Kyle’s by 2. Even with inevitable traffic, she could be back at Sophie’s side well before midnight.

The younger woman just nodded, already feeling cold from Margo’s absence. “Please be safe.”

“I will. I promise.” She leaned over to kiss her one more time, “Go back to sleep. It’ll make the time go by faster.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to.”

“Well, try. Okay? For me?”

Sophie just searched Margo’s tired eyes and nodded slowly, leaning in to steal one last kiss. Margo pulled back after a gluttonous string of gentle kisses, sighing like it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Bye, baby.”

“Bye,” Sophie murmured, bending her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she watched Margo grab her bag and head for the door. “Margo?”

“Hm?” the older woman stopped at the door, turning to face her.

She didn’t know why she stopped her. Maybe she just wanted her around for a few more seconds. A small part of her worried that this was the last time she would ever see her. She tried to keep that part small, but the farther Margo got from her, the harder that task became. “I- um…just…come back soon.”

Margo took her hand off the doorknob and put her bag on the floor so she could move back to her, holding her pinky out. “Promise,” she whispered over the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Sophie reached out to link her pinky with hers, holding on tight with a melancholy smile before Margo pulled away again. This time she actually walked out, blowing a kiss back to her with a reassuring grin as she closed the door behind her. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, Sophie was all alone.

Hours passed. Sophie did her best to pass the time, but between Margo’s absence and being under strict instruction to follow her rules, everything she did just seemed to make the time go by even slower. She showered and washed her hair, even staying under the stream until the water became unbearably cold. She watched the local afternoon news on the tiny corner TV while she ate cold pizza, but she paid more attention to the little clock on the corner of the screen more than the reports. She counted dots on the ceiling panels and made up games and songs in her head. By the time the sun had set, she had organized both their suitcases, counted and organized her cash, painted her toenails with Margo’s nail polish, and looked at the clock more times than she could count. By 9pm, she got tired of looking out the window, waiting for the truck to pull up. She felt like a dog waiting for their owner to come home, and it was embarrassing knowing that if she had a tail it would probably wag so fast she would take flight whenever Margo came back.

At 10:00, she began chewing her fingernails off as she paced the room. Margo left at 7:30 this morning. It was a six hour drive. She should have gotten to LA around 1:30. Sophie knew that she wasn’t planning on spending much time there, but she knew there was a chance that she got caught in traffic. Or got lost in conversation with her brother. Maybe she was fighting for her, trying to get Kyle to agree to let Sophie stay with them. But either way, Margo knew that she had a six hour drive back and she promised to be back tonight. At 11:00 Sophie’s eyes drifted to the grease stained napkin Margo jotted Kyle’s phone number on, chewing on her jagged thumb nail. Midnight was when Margo told her to call if she hadn’t arrived back yet. She still had an hour before it came to that. For all she knew, Margo could walk in the door in the next five minutes.

Still, she grabbed the napkin and set it on the tiny nightstand, trying to focus on whatever the shopping network was trying to sell her in TV. Margo would be back soon. She just kept telling herself that to distract herself from the thought of what she would do if she didn’t. Where would she go? How would she get there? She started this journey on foot with no plans of relying on anyone for anything more than a ride. She would just be back to her original plan. She still had her own money, she just had to decide where to go from here. She told Margo she was going to San Francisco anyway, so she was exactly where she planned to be— just with a whole new plan. Even if she didn’t know what that plan was yet.

That part depended on Margo.

11:00 turned to 11:15. 11:15 turned to 11:45. And when it was five minutes to midnight, Sophie’s stomach began to turn as her anxiety began to feed her ideas. What if Margo abandoned her on purpose? What if she took everything she needed and ran? It made sense, considering Sophie was the wrench in her plan. Why would she want to have her around anyway? She didn’t contribute anything. If anything, Sophie was just making things harder for her, derailing her life with her baggage and emotional attachment. She pulled gently at the red clay beads at her wrist, surprised that the elastic hadn’t broken with how much she’d been nervously toying with it. But she tried to remind herself what the bracelet meant and why she hadn’t taken it off since Margo had gotten it for her— and that Margo hadn’t taken hers off either.

When midnight rolled around, Sophie was at the window again, looking down into the parking lot from their second story window. The lack of cherry red pickup truck made her throat feel tight. She stayed at the window, giving it a few more minutes. Margo didn’t tell her what to say if she had to call. It didn’t seem like she had considered that she would actually have to. Looking back at the phone, she swallowed hard, taking one last glance around the parking lot before padding back to the bed. She sat on the edge with her bottom lip nearly bitten raw between her teeth. She glanced at the door, then the phone, then back at the door before she gingerly reached for the napkin. With a deep breath, she picked the phone out of the cradle and held it to her ear, listening to the ringback through the receiver after she dialed the number with the rotary wheel.

”Hello?” A deep voice answered, sounding agitated.

Sophie’s mouth fell open, wondering what to say. She should demand to know where Margo was. She should tell this guy off for having the audacity to make his sister choose between two people she loved. But she couldn’t get anything to come out.

”Who the fuck is this?”

A small noise left her throat as fear rose in her. Even if Margo had instructed her on what to say, she would’ve been too scared to say it. But the sound of quietly jingling keys outside the door had her twisting her neck towards the door. In the middle of Kyle demanding to know who was calling, she hung the phone up and slammed her body into Margo’s the second she walked through the door.

“Whoa,” the brunette wrapped her free arm around her, kissing the top of Sophie’s head as she closed the door behind her. “I know I’m late, I’m so sorry.”

Sophie just kept her face buried in the chest of Margo’s halter top. She smelled different— like stale beer and cheap cologne. Her own signature scent of Chanel perfume and Newport Lights was gone entirely. But Sophie still clung to her, refusing to let go in fear of her disappearing again. Margo soothed and held her, dropping her bag and keys to the floor to pull her in closer as she whispered apologies into her hair. Before she knew it, Sophie was being hoisted into Margo’s arms, wrapping herself around her with an unrelenting grip and her forehead pressed against hers. Desperate, Sophie silenced her apologies with one kiss after another, silently begging Margo to make her forget all the doubts that ran through her mind over the past day.

Margo always seemed to understand what Sophie needed, and this moment was no different. The older woman kissed her senseless as she held her up, gripping hard to her thighs under the large t-shirt that had been covering them. She mumbled apologies against her lips as she pushed herself off the door, walking them towards the double bed that was rumpled from a whole day of anxious tossing and turning. Sophie gasped, breathless when her back hit the mattress. Her legs unlocked from behind Margo’s back, but they remained bent at her sides, fencing the brunette in. Margo panted through fervent kisses against Sophie’s neck, coaxing barely-there whimpers out of her.

Without a word, Margo shifted her weight to one arm, kissing Sophie’s swollen lips again as she brought her other hand between them and cupped the warm cotton between her flushed thighs. Sophie gasped with a broken whine against Margo’s lips when she pressed the heel of her palm against her just right, grinding against her hand desperately. “Please,” she whispered, leaving crescent shaped indents on Margo’s bare shoulders.

Nodding in understanding, Margo slipped her hand under the elastic to touch her properly. As much as she loved to tease her, this was her trying to apologize. And teasing during apology sex just didn’t seem right. Her fingers glided smoothly through Sophie’s slit, up and down, dragging her palm over her clit until it was scissored between her fingers over and over again. Sophie clung to her tighter, kissed her harder, begging her for more. And when Margo slipped two fingers into her, a sense of relief washed over both of them— like something was righted where it had been wrong. Margo held Sophie close, burying her face into the curve of her neck as she fucked her slowly to start. The sound of the blonde’s rhythmic, pleasured moans made her feel something she’d never felt before. It sat deep in her chest, warm and burning like a gentle fire. It was comfortable. It was familiar. It felt like belonging. It felt like coming home.

Her fingers picked up a speed and rhythm that had Sophie arching off the mattress, blindly reaching for anything to hold onto to keep her grounded. Every sound she made was music to Margo’s ears and she could feel just how each thrusted curl of her fingers affected her. Margo had been with her share of both men and women. Some were transactional, some were personal, some were out of pure boredom, and some weren’t even her decision. But not a single one of them made her feel the way Sophie did. She didn’t even know what it was about her, but Sophie was the only person Margo ever known that had her doing anything she could to keep her— the only one that made her afraid of fucking up. Margo Banks never needed anyone. And now here she was, wrapped tightly and happily around this girl’s finger.

“I-I’m—“ Sophie breathed in her ear, cut off by a mewl of pleasure. But Margo already knew. She had memorized Sophie since the first time. She knew her sounds, she knew her breathing pattern and the way her body began to twitch despite trying to hold out to make it last longer. They had only just started.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” Margo raised her head so she could watch, smirking slightly at the way her nose scrunched and how her glassy eyes squeezed shut just before her mouth fell open with the release of a strained moan. Sophie’s head pressed back into the mattress as she arched into her, chasing the pleasure. Margo’s fingers kept curling in and out of her, refusing to stop to even let her catch her breath.

Sophie just shuddered around another broken cry, gripping onto Margo’s arm so tight she nearly broke the skin. But the older woman continued, demanding another orgasm from her. The room was filled with the sounds of old mattress springs, their labored breathing, and the wet sounds of Margo’s ministrations that made Sophie blush as her second orgasm crept up on her quickly. Stars exploded behind her eyelids when she came again. This time Margo slowed down, letting her enjoy the high and the comedown with gentle kisses to her neck. “Fuck,” she panted, turning to capture Margo’s lips with her own once she managed to at least control her breathing.

The brunette remained silent but smiled against her lips, kissing her softly and innocently as if her fingers weren’t coated in come. And not long after Sophie caught her breath, Margo began to press kiss after slow kiss to her chin, her jaw, her neck, starting to ease her way down her body until she was knelt between tired, bent knees.

“Margo…s’too much,” Sophie practically slurred, failing to close her legs with Margo between them.

The brunette peeled the ruined panties down her legs, kissing the inside of her warm thigh. “One more, babygirl. Just one more, please?”

Sophie looked down at her and nodded, seeing the foreign desperation in her darkened blue eyes. She lay back against the mattress and relaxed as Margo proved that this time would be slow and gentle. She circled her clit slowly, knowing she was still sensitive, and lapped carefully at her still throbbing entrance. Sophie just sighed, blissful at the feeling of getting to enjoy the journey rather than chasing the destination. It was poetic in a way, considering how different her life was now than it had been three weeks ago. After so much running, it was nice to take a moment and just be present in the unknown as long as Margo was there with her.

Delicate lips wrapped around her clit, making her struggle not to shift her hips down for more. Margo seemed to want to make this last. Instead, she reached for Margo’s hands where they were gripping her hips and laced her own trembling fingers through hers. Sophie could feel a smile curl up against her, making her realize that she’d never felt so adored, so loved, so cared for as she did with Margo. She had realized it before, but it came this time with a newfound weight that sat heavy on her chest as another orgasm began to build from deep inside her. It built slowly, like it was inching its way through her. It was torture in the best way possible to feel every nerve light up one by one as Margo licked into her with more diligent intention. Sophie felt like a bomb that was ready to detonate at any moment. Every time she felt like she’d reached the edge, it just kept on building, taking her farther.

“Margo,” she whined and gripped her hands desperately, squirming in place before her body seized, her breath caught, and she found herself flying rapturously over that metaphorical cliff. The climax was as slow as the build up, lasting longer than she thought was possible. Careful lips pressed soothing kisses to her inner thighs as her body remained tensed and twitching as she reached an unknowable high. She held so tightly to Margo’s hands, she swore she would break her fingers, but Margo’s strong grip proved otherwise. And just like the buildup and the climax itself, the floating descent back down was just as pleasurably slow. Sophie felt boneless, unsure if she could move even if she tried to. But what she was learning was that she didn’t have to lift a finger with Margo.

After a few more slow, tender kisses to Sophie’s trembling thighs, Margo sat up and gathered the breathless blonde into her lap. Sophie melted into her easily, still gripping onto her with as much strength as she could muster after coming so intensely three times in a row. She brushed damp hair from her sweat soaked forehead and kissed her temple as she held her close, rocking slightly to help calm her down. “My girl,” Margo whispered, feeling Sophie shiver under her touch at the words.

The younger woman just clung to her tightly, whimpering quietly as she caught her breath. She wished Margo’s halter top and denim shorts would disappear along with her own large t-shirt. She just wanted to feel closer to her. The feeling of Margo’s skin against her own solidified the fact that she was real and tangible here beside her. But Sophie was content enough with her face hidden in the warm crook of Margo’s neck, letting herself be comforted by whispered words of praise in that southern drawl she loved so much. Margo was back and here with her. She didn’t need to worry anymore.

Once Sophie’s breathing had slowed, Margo shifted to slide her under the covers with her, still holding her close. Sophie’s head rested on Margo’s outstretched arm while her other hand made slow strokes up across her exposed hip. “I got scared you weren’t coming back,” Sophie whispered, reaching up to lightly trace Margo’s Cupid’s bow. She felt like if Margo stopped touching her or vice versa, her whole world would crumble.

crrvMargo kissed her finger, taking her wrist into her hand so she could hold Sophie’s palm to her cheek. “I’ll always come back to you,” she kissed her palm when Sophie smiled. “I’m sorry I was so late. I didn’t realize until I was halfway there that I forgot to write down our number so I could call. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. You’re back now.”

“And for good.”

“Really?” Blue eyes met hers curiously.

“Mmhm.”

“Why? What happened? What took you so long?” Sophie asked through a thick yawn.

Margo just smiled with solemn eyes and she leaned in to kiss her forehead, grateful that sleep was overtaking the blonde so quickly. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Just know I love you.”

Sophie’s eyes drooped slowly as she nodded, not putting up a fight. “Love you, too,” she murmured just seconds before she was out like a light, leaving Margo alone with her thoughts wondering how she was going to explain what happened in LA.