Wide Awake

[Lucy Serrano]

A smaller point of contact carried significance when weighted as it was. It was her own way of asking for more, or indicating that she would willingly keep more if given. The conversation was important. She was important.

So when Penny tried to kiss her, she gave into the contact so easily. Worse, or perhaps more to the point, she felt the instinctive arch in her back beneath the water and against her. Even like this, she couldn't help but be daring.

But she couldn't be done. Anything more felt like an improbability like this.

"So you believe it, then." Lucy denoted finally, despite the distraction. Despite the intensity of something so singular; "That you are making a difference."

[Penelope Blaise]

She caught Lucy's lips so easily, and Penny felt the immediate way she fell into the connection. What was intended to be something small and short had lasted until her lungs begged for air, drawn out with slow necessity. It made her press forward into the way she leaned back, hands dipping down deeper into her water against the thief's skin.

"It might not be as significant as I wish it to be, but it is something." Penny continued to explain, but her voice was growing softer as she spoke against Lucy's lips. Each syllable was carried out with precise pressure as the words themselves before she kissed her again.

"It is all I can hope to do."

[Lucy Serrano]

Proximity had always been a danger. More, it was a proven end to most difficult situations. It was the way they ended any and all instances, really. A primary code embedded in the natural curve of their relationship. It was physical on the primary. Hands that dropped lower on her own form had a wayward breath drawn from her lungs. Each kiss dragged far longer than it should have. But it could, so it did.

"You believe in things you can understand. The potential, foreseeable future." When cracks emerged undetected, it seemed as if the young senator was the first and only to exploit them.

They were once left unsaid; that was the norm.

"If I didn't know that about you, I might call you optimistic." Lucy pointed out, her mouth threatening a grim against her lips as she chose to linger in that all important proximity, "But it feels... Real."

[Penelope Blaise]

It was only a matter of time before physicality took over between them; part of Penny was surprised they had lasted as long as they had. Even now, her hands were still so slow to pass a pair of sparrows imprinted on the thief's hips. Were it not for the conversation they were trying to carry, she might have been teasing with her drawn out efforts.

Penny felt the beginnings of a grin against her own lips, close to pulling her own into something humored, too. "I'm hardly an optimist." She replied easily, because in her own mind an optimist would strive for immediate change. As frustrated as she was by the way nothing moved despite how hard she pushed the senate, she didn't truly expect a budge in the change of law. How could she?

Finally, she did make that necessary shift. Her own patience dwindled with the thief pressed so intently against her, though she was hardly done talking. Penelope Blaise was always known to be somewhat cruel, after all. "You can see the differences you make." She continued on. "How much you're helping people with what you do."

[Lucy Serrano]

Things only started to change yesterday. Before last night, Lucy had never been privy to a single detail of the senator's work life. Of course, Ellis knew what she needed to know as given to her by those with the necessary connections, but it was business. There was nothing personal. They were in this situation - she was giving more than bland, political detail - and she couldn't exactly let that go, either.

"You're just being nice." Nice. As if the word ever suited her. As if it suited her right now. "Because." There was always a reason, and it wasn't lost on the edge of her tongue as she inhaled shortly; "I was nice."

"First."

But designating a compliment or a positive turn of a phrase didn't happen between them out of designated reciprocation. It wasn't their way. Niceties weren't exactly their way either. It was all new.

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny laughed, and while she wasn't one to actually do so, she the amusement she carried still left on a low, dry breath. An arm remained wrapped around Lucy's form, offering some stability given the way they found themselves. The corner of her mouth finally dragged upward in defeat; like the thief had offered some sort of joke. It sounded like one.

She kissed Lucy again. Slowly, like she offered the idea of putting their conversation on hold. Except, of course, she didn't. "I am not a nice person." Penny replied before pressing her lips to the thief's, the tip of her tongue tracing against her lower lip.

"You know that." In part, it was funny. Of everything used to describe the young senator, she couldn't actively recall the last time she was told that - in any way - she was nice.

[Lucy Serrano]

Everything about this instance was highly unfair and borderline ridiculous. Passing seconds only grew to aggregate the thief to a brand new level, and a daring enough hand delved through the break in the water to curl around her wrist and drag it back a fraction. If she were to gain any power here, it would always be by way of a purely strength-based advantage.

"I fail to see how abolishing poverty as an end goal makes you anything less than a nice person." Lucy argued finally, now that she had the means to properly so so. Clarity, but she didn't sound calm. Everything was just a little rushed; "In fact, trying to achieve a damningly impossible goal for the good of the people threatens to make you a martyr."

She even forced herself up, if only enough to properly glance backwards; "Because given your obvious financial position you only stand to personally lose from such a dream."

[Penelope Blaise]

The strength behind Lucy's hand was unmatched, and Penny crinkled her nose at the way her counterpart chose for conversation rather than the usual course taken. More so, when the thief created more distance, even if it was to request eye contact, which the senator granted her. Her eyebrow raised slowly as she was given a practical godly moral status by a thief. If only she could see the humor in that, then again, she likely could. Ellis wasn't an ordinary thief, after all.

"Being just and being nice are entirely different things." Penny countered, still refusing to budge on her opinion of herself. "I accept any loss I would have to take because it is right, not because I am nice."

But she was already moving back to her, closing the distance where she could do so, the free arm she had trying to pull Lucy in.

[Lucy Serrano]

The soured look on Penny's expression had Lucy trying to hard not to respond. She couldn't help but look somewhat disappointed in her own actions, but there was a point to it. She turned her hand instead, fingertips tracking up we wrist to interlock their fingers together. Her eyes even dropped, briefly. She was beautiful.

"It's different when you stand to lose a lot." Lucy pointed out, eyes locked to the set given to her now that she could. "A mean person isn't going to dare for change when it effects them in a negative way. It's all about personal gain."

Which brought forth an even better question. Lucy stared at her counterpart as she did her best to resist the urge to actually lean inward. "Why do you care so much?" She had to ask, because from her own words she'd built the idea that this woman really shouldn't care.

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny tried her best to listen to the point given to her, but it proved difficult when she was so set in her mindset, and when she reached for her hand. Fingers intertwined easily with the thief's, tightening with a small squeeze. She lost Lucy's gaze, but she still watched her, wondering just what those dark eyes saw as they looked at her.

She wanted to explain that she wasn't mean, but that didn't make her a nice person, either. Strange as it sounded, it made sense at in the senator's mind. Perhaps if the thief ever caught her out in public, she would better understand, but that was never to happen.

And before she could try to explain anything further, she was asked a question that - surprisingly - she never had been asked before. "Do I need a reason?" She asked in return.

[Lucy Serrano]

A reason seemed to make sense. Lucy watched for any clear signs of stress or strain; she waited for a glimpse into something greater, but the senator had always been so ridiculously good at saving face. So she had to ask for a reason.

"For caring? I think so." Otherwise the intent would have nothing to fuel it. If there was no reason, there would be no point.

She pressed her lips together intently, as if to hold a thought at bay. She really wished she could, at times; "I spent a day in your home. I learned... Enough about you. I don't see much that you do care for." It almost looked as if she just bought the place, and she herself almost felt guilty for learning as much as she had.

[Penelope Blaise]

Of course there had to be a reason; it was almost humorous, but Penny didn't let the emotion show in her features as she pulled the hand intertwined with her own closer. She brought Lucy's knuckles to her lips, brushing across them lightly all while keeping her eyes on the thief.

She listened, but she couldn't help the natural way she lingered once she made that imperative connection. She had spent the day in her home, and throughout the course of her own day the senator had wondered what she had been up to. Judging by her pockets, her first guess had been correct.

"And what else did you learn about me?" She asked, curious what her home could offer as insight to her life.

[Lucy Serrano]

Once the initial course of action had been taken, Lucy wasn't sure how else to spend her day. There was a lot that could be found from time spent alone in another person's home. Though most would consider it an invasion of privacy, taking in that information was hardly ever a thief's intent. This was different. There was a natural air of curiosity she couldn't help but adhere to. After all, the senator might have shared her bed, but she didn't share much else.

"That I didn't need to worry about anyone else coming over. I don't think." Lucy explained, but she didn't want to sound so sure over something she wasn't so sure about. "A little part of that has to do with locking me in here all day, though."

it didn't matter, anyway. She reminded herself of that as she watched with weaker eyes how her counterpart lingers with lips brushed against her hand. It really, honestly didn't matter if there was another person. Or if she found another person tomorrow, "You're not having people over for dinner, that's for sure. Not me. Not anyone; it's a single set." She added with a short laugh, hoping the sound would cover the slow-grown colour to her own cheeks. Or the way she had to lean in through that small space from the obviously enticing nature alone.

"Which, actually, not offended by, because your obsessive number of forks is off-putting."

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny's eyebrows quirked at the first thing Lucy listed off, though she took no offense. More, the senator was surprised she was only just realizing this. Though they never interacted on the streets, Penny was a person well known. Specifically, the senator had always been labeled something of a shrewd. Why would she want anyone over except the obvious company she kept in secret?

"Now I don't have a set at all." Penny remarked knowingly, but she didn't seem bothered by it. She straightened her back, giving another small pull to the hand she held, if only to try and beckon Lucy closer.

There was a sort of confusion in Penny's features when the subject of her silverware held. Like it was strange for the thief to point out the number of forks that were meant for a single person's table setting. "They all have their purpose." She explained what felt like the obvious.

[Lucy Serrano]

Given how intently they had just argued, Lucy could already see the lighter side of a similar approach taking shape. She felt completely drawn by the way her own hand was pulled. The other had to press to the side of the bathtub, arm draped across the edge to provide some stability as she pressed her side against the body that willed it of her. She pulled her hand back a little, if only to draw it away from her mouth. She thought to steal it before the conversation held her, again.

"You only need one, love." She replied instantly, and the way she grinned was even more difficult to control. She'd never been good at it, and in present company - in a rare moment where she might even make fun of her in return - it was next to impossible. Besides, Lucy had some sense on her side. The world couldn't possibly end if she was only left with one, as she had been unknowingly.