43

Diana and I step out into the night, leaving the lights and noise of the Cages behind us. I glance up the street to where Outlander's is, but she puts a hand on my arm. "I know you like your old watering hole," she smiles, "but let's go somewhere a little classier tonight."

"I guess Outlander's isn't exactly a pressed napkins and gold-rimmed glasses kind of place," I admit sheepishly.

"It's fine to go there with the guys," Diana says, "but I'm not one of the guys." She steps out to hail a cab. "Though there's a lot to be said for a place where no one cares what your name is."

"And that Smiley wouldn't be caught dead in there," I mutter, glancing over my shoulder as I open the cab door for her.

Diana laughs. "Smiley's on the late shift tonight, and if I know him, he won't be out of there for hours anyway." She scoots over to make room for me in the backseat. "He's a workaholic. South and Y-street, please," she calls to the driver, and we pull away from the curb.

I turn to watch the streetlights flashing across Diana's face, lighting up her eyes one second and leaving her in darkness the next. "About that…" I begin uncertainly.

"Smiley's thinking about joining the Theatre," she says. "Pay's not as good—no tips—but there's a lot more exposure."

I have to admit that Smiley's handsome face and mane of golden hair would be twice as striking on stage as it is in the Cages. "I'm sure he'd like the attention," I say, trying for a lighter tone. "And he's certainly in there a lot."

I see the sharpness of Diana's glance even in the darkness of the cab. "You've seen him down there? Alone?"

"With a guy. Just once," I add, shrugging and avoiding her stare. The tone of her voice had made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "I figured he was just relaxing before his shift."

Diana looks back out the window. "Some of us… like to go down there after hours," she says slowly. "It's…" she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, embarrassed. "It's kind of a… friendly thing."

I snort. "I can imagine."

"Can you?" she rolls her shoulders a little, leans back into the seat. "It's late, everyone's still fired up from working the floor, you walk into the Theatre to get horny as hell and then… enjoy the fact that no one has to call anyone else in the morning."

"I… okay," I say, turning the idea over in my mind. I'm the last one to object to casual sex, but Diana just didn't seem like the type. "And Smiley's in your little Theatre group too?"

"Sometimes. Mostly it's just the Painted Boys, sometimes some of the guys from the Theatre. It's just to unwind, you know, things get really tense—"

"I'm not judging you, Diana."

The tension seems to go out of her shoulders, and she looks around at me again. "I know you aren't. But it's just—there's a lot of guys working at the Cages, you know? And it's perfectly fine for them to go sleeping around, but if I do it, it makes me a slut."

"You're not a slut," I say, a little more forcefully than I mean to. I try to soften it by putting my hand over hers. "Everybody sees sex differently. And just because you've decided to do it more often doesn't make you a bad person. Besides, everybody's licensed now, this isn't the Dark ages."

"I know it isn't. But I…" Diana looks out the window, eyebrows knit. "You're an awfully nice person, Kaz."

I laugh. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"You know what they say." She smiles at me, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Nice guys finish last."

-- --

The place Diana takes me to is far more upscale than Outlander's, but there's a quiet, relaxed atmosphere to it, people huddling around dim lights and small candles and only a few people sitting up at the bar, talking with the bartender. Diana chooses a table against the wall, underneath an antique alcohol ad in a glass frame.

"No one I know likes to sit out in the open," I sigh, pulling out Diana's chair for her. "Everybody's gotta sit in the dark."

She chuckles. "I don't know if the rest of your friends are vampires or what, but I just don't like being stared at."

"I guess no one does," I concede.

She shrugs. "It's the hair. I keep it up or under a wrap most of the time when I'm out alone. For some reason people think having nice hair means I want to talk to them."

Diana has put her still-damp hair up in a loose bun; strands of it still hang around her face and down her neck. Instead of messy, it manages to look casually seductive. I remember the way it looks when she's working: hanging down her back in copper waves, curling in the front to frame her face. "It kind of leaves an impression on people," I say. "and you do have really nice hair."

"Said the gay man to the beauty queen," Diana quips. "Frankly it's a lot of work. Luckily for me, Kiki gets to style it every night. I just have to keep it clean and shiny."

"Moisturizing conditioner," I guess.

"Yep." She curls a strand of hair around her finger. "None of that dime-store 'milk and honey' scented stuff, either. I get mine from a salon in Blue Valley. If it weren't for that damn goop, I'd have enough money to live like a queen."

"It's lotion for me," I laugh. "Lots and lots of lotion."

Diana wrinkles her nose. "Ugh, don't even get me started on what having that paint on you all the time does to your skin."

A waitress in a black dress approaches our table. She looks a little too blond and made-up for the place she's working in; I guess that she's an actress, working tables and chatting up anyone who looks important enough to get her big break. She smiles at Diana. "Hey, Di. How's work?"

"Flattening," Diana sighs, pushing a stray hair out of her eyes. "Wanna trade?"

The waitress giggles. "I'd love to, but I'd never make it in a place like that. You have to have a perfect body." Her eyes flick to mine, then back at Diana. "Speaking of perfect…"

"Smiley's fine," Diana says. Her smile suddenly seems forced. "This is my friend Kaz. We work together. Kaz, this is Tina."

I reach out to shake her hand. "Pleasure."

"Sure," Tina giggles. "What can I get you two?"

"Um," I hesitate, glancing at Diana. "Coffee liqueur and cream, please."

Diana raises an eyebrow at me, then smiles at Tina. "Whiskey. On the rocks."

I stare at her as Tina bustles away. "Are you trying to impress me or something?"

Diana rolls her eyes. "What, a woman isn't allowed to drink like a man?"

"You can drink whatever you want," I say, putting up my hands. "I just never pinned you as a whiskey girl."

"That’s funny, I knew you were a coffee liqueur man the moment I saw you."

I snort, turning my face away and covering my mouth as Tina arrives with our drinks. She smiles at me briefly, and when she leaves again, there is a little extra swing to her walk. I watch her go. "Tina seems… friendly," I venture once she's out of earshot.

"I wouldn't stare," Diana says lowly. "I think she's trying to figure out if you're gay."

My gaze snaps back to Diana. "What? Why?"

"Shh!" She flaps a hand at me. "Didn't you see the way she looked at us? I'd better drop a hint before we leave before she goes telling people I'm running out on Smiley."

My blood goes cold. "You don't think she would…"

"Not if I can nip it in the bud." She winks at me. "Just don't go playing footsie with me under the table, okay?"

I look away. "I don't think I'm ready to jump back into that scene anyway."

She takes a long drink before she asks, "Which, the dating scene, or the having sex with women scene?"

"Dating. Not that I've been dating anybody. But just thinking about it wears me out lately."

"I thought you were with Coker?"

I shake my head. "I'm not sure that counted. He's a… friend."

"With benefits," Diana adds with a pixie smile.

"With benefits," I agree. "Though Coke isn't exactly stingy with his… attentions. Sleeping with him doesn't make me any more special than anyone else."

Diana leans on the table. "I think you're special."

"Yeah, thanks," I mutter into my drink, feeling the alcohol warming my chest.

"I mean it. You're a nice guy, Kaz." She leans back. "…It's kind of a shame you're playing for the other team."

"Well, I'm not playing for anybody right now," I say, setting down my drink. "Think I'd rather stay benched."

"Why?"

I sigh heavily. "It's just… I tried committing to someone, and I tried just fucking for fun." I drain my glass. "You get hurt either way."

"Maybe you care too much," Diana says.

"Yeah. Probably." I tilt my glass and watch the ice slide into a new position. "In any case, I think I'm just gonna take a break for now. It's just too much trouble."

Tina arrives with fresh drinks for both of us, and I'm careful not to pay any attention to her. I finish mine faster than is probably necessary, plunking the glass back on the table. Diana watches me, then pushes her drink aside. "Come on, let's go."

"Go?" I look up at her. "Where?"

She tucks a twenty-note under her glass. "Out. I don't want to sit here and watch you make yourself miserable drinking girly mixers."

I stand up. "Diana, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault." She gets to her feet and hooks her arm through mine. "Do you mind if we go to your place? I've got a nosy roommate."

My mind goes blank. "My place."

"Yes."

"…For what?"

Diana pulls her hair out of its bun; it falls down in damp tangles, curling at her chin. "I'm going to tell you about the birds and the bees. But first, we've gotta stop by the 24-hour grocery. I'm gonna make you dinner."

"Dinner? What—" I begin, but Diana's already pulling me towards the door. Before it swings shut, I catch a glimpse of Tina watching us, smiling.

-- --

I stagger back against my dresser, knocking my alarm clock to the floor. A corner digs into my thigh as Diana leans into me again, mouth open against mine. I'm afraid the sharp pain means a bruise, and I turn Diana towards the bed. It's frighteningly easy to lift her around the waist and throw her down onto the mattress; she gasps in a breath before she lands, and the spell breaks for a moment as we stand staring at each other, panting for breath.

"What about Smiley?" I ask.

Diana's hair is mostly dry and has curled around her shoulders. She's laying back on my bed, knees apart, chest heaving. She smirks at me. "What about you?"

I clench my teeth. "It doesn't mean anything."

She laughs. "Why should it?"

Diana's skin is smooth and soft, supple in places where I'm used to feeling the hardness of bone or muscle. I reach down between her thighs and find that it's not just warm, it's hot, and I find myself exploring there just for the newness of it until I hear her moan. She twists her fingers in my hair and pulls me down to kiss her again, biting down on my lip until I pull away. She reaches down over her stomach and pulls off her shirt in one motion. I lean down to kiss her throat, just to feel the difference, and the softness of her breasts against my chest surprises me. I stare, tracing my fingers over her collarbone, and then where her nipple can be seen underneath the lace of her bra. When I look into her face again, she's smirking at me. "How long has it been since you've slept with a woman?" she asks me.

"A while," I lie. I shut my eyes, suddenly realizing where I am, and with who. "Diana, I don't think…"

"Then don't think," Diana interrupts me. There's a hardness in her voice. She tries to soften it a little with, "it doesn't have to mean anything. I can just be."

I straighten up, then slide off of the bed and straighten my clothes self-consciously. I glance at Diana, laying half-dressed on my bed, sweats pulled down around her thighs, and all I want to do is take a shower. "No I—I'm sorry, I just don't know what happened. I—lost somebody recently, and I think I just—"

"You think you’re just a little bit too gay?" She finishes for me.

I wince, stung.

She shrugs, and then lays back to pull her sweats back up around her waist. Something in the set of her shoulders is still angry. "I guess I'm not everyone's cup of tea."

"Diana…"

"No, it's fine. It was… I shouldn’t have." She sits up, pulling her shirt over her head and then lifting her hair out of the collar. She looks up at me, then away. "I meant it when I said it's too bad you play for the other team, that's all." She gets up; I step out of her way hastily. "I guess I should go."

"Let me call you a cab," I begin, but she waves me away.

"I can take care of myself, Kaz. Thanks, though. I'll see you at work tomorrow." She walks down the hall, plucking her purse off of the kitchen table.

I reach out to put a hand on her shoulder as she nears the door.. "Are we still okay?"

Diana smiles a little. "If you can forgive me for getting my girl cooties all over you."

I snort, shaking my head. "I'll try. Thanks for dinner."

"Mm. I'll see you around."

I shut the door after she's gone down the stairs, then lean against it, staring at the darkened window.

What the hell's gotten into me?

Lee showed you what it's like to be with someone again.

Now that he's gone, you need it. You can't be alone.

"I've done it before," I say aloud. "I've lived alone for eight years. I don't need anybody."

Don't you?

I'd had Joker, lurking over everything I did. Joker's pictures in the drawer, Joker's TV in the living room, his jacket in the closet.

His ghost in the Theatre.

Now who've you got?