Tara was mingling at the Halloween party, trying to pay attention to new associates and potential connections- looking anywhere but at her parents, really- when Brigitte walked through the crowd and caught Tara’s attention. “Mom and Dad are busy talking with someone and so am I.  So, I need to you go talk to some people. Woman wearing silver, man wearing red and brown. According to the doorman, they’re envoys from the new Godfather of Rome. Just keep them busy for a bit until Dad can get free.”

Tara wanted to say something to her sister but Brigitte was gone before she could get out a word.  She sighed. Quickly she scanned the room trying to make eye contact with Oriana and if she could blink S.O.S. she would have.  Instead, she gave a helpless look before walking with resignation towards the couple.

Both the man and the woman were physical specimens: the man was tall and broad-shouldered, and one could see his chest muscles clearly through his tight, red, v-neck shirt. He was wearing brown pants and boots and carrying a fishing net- he was also wearing a Venetian mask to hide his face.

Although Tara’s eyes scanned over the man, they lingered on the masked woman. She was wearing a tight silver dress than accentuated her curves, and her hourglass figure would have helped her stand out even if she’d been wearing a burlap sack. Her hair was hidden under a silver veil, and Tara found her eyes returning to the woman’s chest and legs. The woman was seated on the man’s lap; her legs were crossed, and the edge of the dress had ridden up to her mid-thigh. The woman in silver seemed softer than Ori, and thinking of Ori caused Tara’s cheeks to flush as she realized she’d been staring at the mysterious woman. Fortunately, she hadn’t yet gone over to introduce herself.

Tara took a breath and exhaled.  Twice. Then she proceeded to cross the room, trying not to curse her sister under her breath.  Brigitte would have been better suited to this, by miles. It seemed ridiculous that she was the one doing this.  Maybe under different circumstances, sure but… 

Good lord, that leg! 

Tara blinked away the thoughts.  She had to focus. Be polite.  Be gracious.  Be professional and don’t, for the love of all things holy look at those legs!

Tara forced herself to meet the woman’s eyes and smile, “Good evening.”  she said in English. She suspected it would have been polite to have greeted her in Italian but if she was an envoy for the Godfather of Rome, surely she spoke English well enough.

“Good evening,” said the man, adjusting his seat on the bench to get more comfortable. He draped his hand on the woman’s hip.

“I’m Tara Mastrosimone,”  she said warmly, now looking to the man’s eyes.  “I'm very glad that you chose to join us tonight, might I have the pleasure of your names?”

“Ulfo Rossa,” said the man. “My companion is Fortuna Dispenza.” The woman winked at Tara through her mask.

In spite of herself, Tara felt warmth in her cheeks as the other woman winked at her.  “Are you going to be here in the city very long? If you’ve never been to New York before, I know my father would love for you both to be his guest.  He’d want to ensure that you had the chance to enjoy all the sights and delights the city has to offer.”

“Delights is the word. What a wonderful city you have here. A young city, but lively. It is… undecided how long we will stay. But hearing of your event, we thought some recreation was in order- a more formal meeting can follow later.” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your fun-” The woman in silver slid off his lap before walking over to Tara’s bench and sitting next to her with a smile. 

Tara was suddenly rethinking all her hateful thoughts about this costume and it’s ability to help hide her face and the shifting metal that now covered certain parts of her that she couldn’t prevent from reacting to the nearness of this siren.

“Besides, my father is… hopelessly consumed with his hunt for his Amazon bride it seems.  I don’t think once he finds her that his mood for business will improve.  We’ll be lucky if they remain at the party once he’s recaptured his slave.”  Just talking about her flirting parents made things worse.  Tara tried to focus on the man in front of her and not the woman beside her - a woman she didn’t dare risk offending.  

The woman in silver reached out and traced a fingernail on Tara’s bare shoulder with a smile. Grinning, the man said, “And what are you hunting for this evening, Miss Mastrosimone?”

Tara swallowed and struggled to think, to find some coy words that would get her out of this position but … not offend the lovely envoy or… toy to the envoy, whatever she was.  “I’m looking for what all good American girls want…”  she swallowed as the woman crossed her legs again, dangling one near Tara’s, “A dangerous outlaw who casts a long shadow at noon, someone who can ride hard and lay their enemies low all day and romance a girl all night.”

Think about Oriana… Oriana’s legs… not hers… oh God!

Then Tara noticed the auburn hue of the silver woman’s hair under the veil and actually looked into her eyes through the mask.

“Jo?”

The silver woman laughed as she removed her mask. Across the room, Tara saw Brigitte give them both a friendly wave with a look toward Tara.

“Jo!”  She said it softly, so as not to disrupt some lie she might have told to get into the situation she was in - whether it was a lie or not didn’t matter.  Right now what mattered was only that her friend was here.  Tara threw her arms around the other woman, who happily returned the hug.  “You’re horrible!  God, I’ve missed you!”
 

“Blame Brigitte!” said Jo. “We got here without the masks, but she said this would be more fun,” said Jo as she laughed at slid away from Tara with a sly look on her face. “Sorry if I had you going there for a bit. Actually, I’m not. I love this dress, and I’m addicted to attention.”

Tara shot a glare at her sister and then smiled at her before looking back to Jo.  “Are you really just visiting then? Will you be going back to Italy? Or maybe traveling other places after this?”

“I’m back, I think. We can talk about that. But I really am carrying a gift from the Godfather- and a letter. I’ve got to tell you- Renato is his Left Hand, now. So many members of the underworld have been taken out by Mussolini, there’s a huge power vacuum. Our friend is taking advantage of how well he knows the city to move up in the world. When I told him I was going back to the States, he asked me to take a couple letters and a couple gifts.”

“Oh, I will pray for him.  For his success and his safety.  I will never forget what he did me and Oriana.  I owe him a debt. I know mom paid him, but what we lived through… no money could ever be enough for either of you to know how much I love you both.  You’re my family. You always will be.”

“Oh, I can tell how much you love me,” teased Jo, shaking out her hair. It was still short, but longer than it had been in Naples; back then, she’d had so much blood in it that she’d nearly shaved her head.

Tara cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably, “Yes well, you are a lovely woman.”

“And so are you. You look good, Tara. Really good. Happy. Well, when your old friends aren’t teasing you.”

Tara was going to say something else but the words stuck in her throat a moment before she managed a meek, “Thanks.  I am happy. So very happy. Things have really started to come together.”

“Oh? What are you working on?”

“Well, I’m about to head back to Italy for a short trip actually.  Business and pleasure. I’m going to see Bacchus again. I’m only staying a short while, but I want to get his blessing to open a venture that is inspired by his House of Pleasure, here in the United States.  I’ve recently bought a bit of land to build on and I’m eager to get started. Of course, there’s a lot to do yet but… 

“Oh god, Bacchus. Tara…” Jo took her friend’s hand and stared at her. “I can’t even tell you how long I stayed with him. I think it was a month. I don’t even know for sure. I stayed for at least two weeks after Renato left. I could tell you stories that would turn your cheeks scarlet and curl your toes.”

Tara smiled brightly.  “I bet. Honestly I…” She sighed.  “He’s another person who has come to mean a great deal to me.  More than I suspect he knows or can ever understand. It’s why it’s important to me that he supports what I want to do.”

“Oh, he’ll support you, if you’ll let him. From all angles.” Jo chuckled.

“Jo!”  Tara laughed and waved over a woman who had a tray of drinks.  “Don’t tell me that you spent time in Olympus sampling the divine?”

“... well, I won’t tell you, then, if you insist,” said Jo with a smirk. “But why shouldn’t I?”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” said Ori, spurs jangling as she emerged from the crowd and sat on the booth next to Tara. “Hey Jo.” She smirked.

“Ori!” Jo stood up, walking to hug the already seated gunslinger.

“I’m not much a hugger, act-” began Oriana before she was enveloped in a hug. Sighing, Ori made eye contact with Tara.

“How was Bacchus?” asked Ori.

“Very generous. More than you’d expect. He spent about a half-hour just using his tongue to-” 

Tara looked at the floor and smiled, her cheeks almost glowing red.

“I meant,” said Ori, “how was he when you left him? In general.”

“Oh,” said Jo, ‘he’s good. Same as always, it seems.”

“Can I get you a drink, Tara?” asked Ori. 

“Yes.  Please.”  Tara said a little too quickly, “The waitress has managed to be dragged away again before I could get a glass.”

“I’ll hunt one down for you,” said Oriana before jangling off into the crowd. 

Jo watched her leave before turning to Tara. “So...”

Tara watched Ori walking away with a smile before looking back to Jo.  Seeing her here felt strange. Jo was associated with a part of her life that was so different than this place.  She tried to reconcile both those lives into one, this new life of hers, but it was still an adjustment. She felt this way from time to time when she was in public with Oriana.  She wondered if she’d ever get used to it.  

“So.”  Tara repeated.  She wanted to tell Jo how much she missed Crupi and Laurent, but it seemed wrong to bring them up on such a happy night.  Her father had continued to nag her about picking a new bodyguard, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to interview anyone.  No one would ever measure up to Crupi or Laurent. 

“You have a letter or… is that something that we should talk about later?”

“It’s for your father, actually. But the gist of it is that the Italian underworld is getting hammered by Mussolini and his new policies. They’re basically willing to pay for your father’s help. Nothing direct against the government, of course, but making things easier. Renato and the Padrino di Roma are trying to be cautious- unlike most of the men currently sitting in jail. If someone attracts too much attention, the plan would be to send them to New York. Your father would act as their “sponsor”, so to speak, until the heat has died down and they can return to Italy. Additionally, if something more… high profile needs to be done in Italy, then the job could be hired out to one of the New York families. Someone who could appear in the city, pull a trigger, and be gone two hours later.”

“Seems like something Dad might be willing to do.  It’s good to know that our family’s reputation has gained us such trust.”

“You do have some old family connections in Sicily… but to be honest, it’s mostly what’s happened in the last year. The new bosses of Milan and Venice vouched for you- and Renato did as well.”

“For my family, you mean.”  she nodded. “Of course, my mom and Oriana did a lot that is worth noting.  Me, our team, I can’t say that taking out Francesco did much except perhaps make the government upset with the Cosa Nostra, if they still wanted to make use of him that is.”

“It’s not as bad as you think. Francesco had gone mercenary, cut ties with the government. They weren’t bothered to see him go down. Also, Renato vouched for your family- after all, he was well paid and the operation was a success. But he also vouched for you personally. The Padrino di Roma has heard stories about you. And if I tell you that he’s hoping to exploit Renato’s personal connection with you, you’ll take that as a compliment, right?” Jo smirked.

Tara looked at the floor and nodded, “Well, I ca-”  she stopped herself. “Yes. I’ll take it as a compliment.  What sort of man has our friend ended up working for? I assume you’ve met him?”  

“I only met him a couple times,” said Jo.  “Padrino Rocca. He seemed nice enough. All business, but not an asshole. He’s old, though, and looking for a successor. 70% of his soldatos have been tossed into jail cells or killed, so he’s pretty desperate for help. Renato and Rex have both climbed his ranks far, far quicker than they’d usually be able to.”

“Well, maybe women’s liberation will eventually come to the Old World Cosa Nostra now thanks to Mr. Mussilini.”  she smiled. “How long before women are stepping into those open roles, I wonder.”

“A fair question,” Jo acknowledged with a sad smile, “but they’re pretty damned stubborn over there. Not sure we’ll see it. Oh!” Jo blinked, remembering. “So I do have a personal letter to you from Renato… do you have any pockets? Maybe Ulfo can hold it for you?”

“I have a place I can tuck it under this breastplate.  At least it’s useful for that.  Not much else if I’m honest.  It’s wildly uncomfortable, in truth, I hate sitting with it on.  I almost have to recline just to feel like I’m not stabbing my own guts.”

“Why not take it off? You’ve got enough fabric on there where you can get away with the robe, right?”

Tara smiled, “I could, but, um… it’s pretty scandalous.  I mean, not mom level of scandal… Christ, I don’t even want to know what she and Dad are up to tonight, but… it makes this dangerously low ‘v’ and… there’s not a lot left to the imagination.”

“Few more drinks, then. If Oriana ever comes back with yours.”

Jo reached into her purse and handed over two letters. “One for your father from the Padrino. One for you from Renato. Oh! And-” she reached into her purse and removed a small box and handed it to Tara. “A gift from Renato. He’s sorry he can’t be here, but I’m sure you know how busy he is.”

“So you and he…?”  Tara hesitated wondering if they were still a thing, if they had ever been a thing or if what she had seen at The House of Pleasure was just that - pleasure or blowing off steam.  In the end she took the box with a polite smile.

“Friends. Good friends. After we survived everything, we, uh, celebrated together. But he was… inspired to stay in Rome and try to build his reputation there. I always intended to come back to the States. I just… found about seven or eight reasons to delay my return in Naples.”

Tara nodded.  “I understand.  He’s a good guy though.  I mean, if I were inclined, maybe…”  she shrugged.  “But I understand.”

Jo smirked. “Trying to set me up, huh? Maybe someday. We didn’t close the door on anything. I just… I dunno… I spent so much of my life on one track: high school, nursing school, training, working at the hospital. And then I banged a surgeon and my life is over… except I get hired on this crazy job… and well, you know the rest. I think I want a few more adventures. Or at least excitement.”
 

“You looking for work?”  Tara arched an eyebrow. “If you want something I can keep your number handy either for myself or someone I know who is looking for some help.”

“I think so? I’ve got plenty of money,” said Jo.… well, that’s not true. I blew a lot of it in Naples. I’d be willing to listen to any offers you have, as long as I’d still have some flexibility, you know? Working for you was one of the best things that happened to me, but I want to be able to join you next time you run off to save someone, not get locked up in a private hospital as opposed to a public one. Because what’s the difference, you know?”

“You could come to work for me.  I mean, boring old House of Pleasure knock off most of the time, occasional crazy adventures from time to time - I mean, I’d pay you well.  You never know when you might need a nurse in a place like I intend to open.” she chuckles. “Imagine the medical emergencies that Bacchus might have!”

“... I’d have to consider it. For a second, I thought you were offering me some work on my back,” laughed Jo. “But that would take all the fun out of it. I could help you manage it, be on call for medical things. I hope I don’t seem ungrateful, though, when I say that I’d still want some flexibility. It’s important to me that I’m free to… I dunno… explore, you know? So I think I’d say yes, but you’d have to promise to send me places- or, even better, let’s go places together.”

Oriana stalked through the crowd like a wet cat. She practically threw a glass of wine at Tara- or as close as you could get to it without spilling a drop. “The two oldest girls are here. Cerise and Azure. I had Cerise cornered, but Azure sicced security on me. I’ll go find them… you stay here… Jo, we’ll catch up later, huh?” Oriana scanned the crowd and sighed before walking off. “I’ll be back…”

Jo smiled again as she watched Oriana leave. “So you and Oriana…?”

“Good.  I, mean, I don’t know what I expected things to be like, but I’m happy.  She seems happy. Settling into life here. Doesn’t seem like she’s going to run, actually came to a family dinner.  My dad has stopped threatening torture and mom hasn’t hit her with a cookie sheet recently.”

Jo smiled. “Well, that sounds good indeed. And open the box, huh? I’m like… 90% sure I know what’s in there, but Ren wouldn’t let me open it.”

She nodded and then opened the box, excited to see what Ren would send her. As she cracked the lid, she saw the diamond ring she’d traded away in Genoa.

Tara’s mouth came open, her eyes began to well up with tears and she stared at the ring.  “How… Oh Ren.”  she sighed.

Jo leaned over and saw it, then smiled. “I knew it! That cagey bastard. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You know how good he is at weaseling around and finding information.”

Tara wiped her tears away.  “I thought I’d never see it again.”  She touched the ring but did not pull it out to put it on.  It felt wrong, now that Oriana knew everything.  It wasn’t right to put the ring back on.  It implied too much, more than was right and yet...

Jo draped an arm around Tara again, squeezing her once. “Hey… sorry, I didn’t expect…I would have waited… it’s okay.”

She shrugged.  “I’m just so happy.  Really.  This is just a shock, that’s all.  A very good one, but a surprise nonetheless.”  She closed the box and held it to her chest.  “Thank you for bringing it.  I’ll have to find a nice gift to send him in return.  He really likes to go above and beyond, doesn’t he?” 

“I mean, we were very well paid. And we’re friends, right? I don’t think either Ren or I have too many of those. Lots of acquaintances, but… well, you know.”

She exhaled, “We are friends.  We will always be.”  she hugged Jo back.  “And as for what said a minute ago, I promise we’ll be traveling.  Oriana and I have been talking about it actually, I don’t know how long before we run off to do something fun again but you can bet we’d be happy to have you along with us.”

“Deal, then. And we’ll talk about this job tomorrow morning. Tonight… well, if you want to make sure that the official envoy from the Godfather of Rome is pleased, then  you’ve got to drink enough to lose that breastplate of yours…”

Tara blushed, “Oh, is that what it’s going to take?”  she chuckled.  “Well, I don’t want my father looking bad in the eyes of the Godfather of Rome so… will you undo the buckles on the back?  Brigitte helped me into this get-up.”  Tara turned in her seat and lifted her left arm, so Jo could reach the small buckles that held the breastplate front to the back.

Jo started working on the buckles, and Tara could hear the smile in the auburn-haired woman’s voice. “Hey, you need to cut loose every now and then. Now let’s get you settled, then you can introduce me to your father.”

Once Tara and Jo had finished their meeting with Billy, they headed directly for the bar- on Jo’s insistence. Half a bottle of wine and one very excited conversation with Brigitte later, Jo and Tara unsteadily headed back to their seats. Oriana intercepted them halfway there, linking one arm through Tara’s.

“We have a serious problem. Come with me. Jo, would you excuse us for a little while?” 

Oriana didn’t wait for a response; she walked ahead of Tara and pulled her along by her hand.

Tara gave Jo a tipsy smile and shrugged, “Be back.”  With that she walked quickly after Oriana. They weaved through the crowd, making their way out to the sidewalk. Oriana continued to walk in front of Tara.

“Ori!”  She laughed.  “What’s going on?”

“It’s an emergency. The girls are fine, but…” Ori didn’t turn around.

“But … ?!?”  Her laughter faded, Oriana was clearly serious and this wasn’t some sort of excuse to drag her off and examine her costume a little closer.

Ori turned, leading Tara through the door of hotel, through the lobby and into an elevator. For the first time, Oriana looked at Tara. The Italian woman flashed a satisfied smile. “But if I turned around, I was going to take you on the sidewalk.” The next thing Tara knew, her back was against the wall of the elevator and Oriana’s tongue was in her mouth.

As soon as Ori’s tongue moved she was laughing.  Tara couldn’t help herself. The wine had her feeling good and Ori’s kisses had her feeling even better.  She’d actually started to think something was horribly wrong and then finding out she was being dragged for more pleasurable pursuits made their exit all the more exciting.  

“Where are they?”  She said between kisses.  “Did you lock them in a closet somewhere?”  Her hands went inside Ori’s jacket and wrapped around her to her back.  Tara held her close, looking into those beautiful gray eyes with a mischievous smirk.

“They’re gone,” said Ori. “I had Gavin drive over. I had to grab them and pull them out of the club one by one. Jack and Izzy were there, too. Gavin’s taking them to see a scary movie- threw some money around to arrange a special midnight showing. Addie’s kids are joining them. I know Cerise would go, since she’s got her eyes on Gavin. She’d convince the other three. And obviously Jack, well…” Oriana shrugged, but Tara could see her eyes clouding over; normally, she’d assume Ori was drunk, but in this case it seemed to be pure desire.

“WOAH!”  Tara snapped out of her moment of drunken, lusty bliss at the mention of Cerise looking at Gavin.  “Cerise… Gavin?  She’s a bit young for him isn’t she?  I mean… oh God, it’s a good thing he’s moving out.”  Tara laughed.  

“Mom may live to regret taking in those four yet.  Her bambinos…”  Tara rolled her eyes.  “Well, I’m sure Gavin can handle it.”  She looked at Ori’s expression and then leaned into her a bit more, “And um… you know, that’s not something we really need to talk about right now.  There are other, far more interesting things happening.”  She kissed Ori again.

“I agree,” said Oriana as her hand found Tara’s hip. “Like how I want you to sit on-”

The elevator dinged; Ori glanced at the floor number and immediately slid to the other wall away from Tara. 

Tara reached into the folds of her dress just before the door opened and produced the small box.  Keeping it in her hands she watched an older man trudge inside and join them, hitting the button for the ground floor.  He nodded politely at each girl. Ori checked her nails. Tara glanced at the box.

The elevator dinged again, and the two women exited. Ori already had the key in her hand, and the door to their room was opened fast- and closed faster.

“So you like my costume?”

“My only regret is that I can’t cut it off you. I like the change.”

“You could cut it off, but you’d have to arrange for something else to be brought for me to wear tomorrow.” 

“I expected we’d return to see Jo for the tail end of the party,” said Oriana. “Although I suppose we could just call and invite her to join us here.” Ori moved inside and started shedding her jacket and hat. “To be clear… I mean in an hour. Or two. Unless… well, I did see how you were looking at her. Hard not to be jealous. I was planning on taking all that pent up jealousy out on you,” she said with a smile.

Tara blushed furiously, brighter and more deeply than ever before - if her toes could blush, she was sure that they were.  “Could you hear what was said between us?” She asked quietly, putting her helm on the table.

“No- I was on the other side of the room.”

“She was … horrible.”  she shook her head.  “I was worried I was going to offend her and put my dad in a bad position with the Godfather of Rome!”  She laughed nervously. “She wanted to know what I wanted - I mean, she was very suggestive in how she asked it, but my answer… I wish you’d heard it.”

 “What’d you say? I could see the way the two of you were looking at each other, though. But from my angle, I could see the red hair- and I managed to figure out who it was a bit earlier than you did. For some reason, I think you were distracted.” Oriana moved to the bed, removing her boots and unbuttoning her blouse.”

“Well, she is a lovely woman.”  Tara taunted.  

“She is,” agreed Oriana.

“I suspect she has some of the softest skin of anyone - maybe moreso than Brigitte and she uses lotion every night.”  Tara shook her head, trying to dismiss the images in her head. “But … I told her that I wanted what every good American girl wants.”  

Tara took very long purposeful steps towards Oriana, “I wanted a cowboy.”  She chuckled. “And while she is undoubtedly desirable… she can’t hold a candle to you.”

Oriana started buttoning up her blouse again with a smirk. “Well, I guess it’s my job to go find you a cowboy then, isn’t it?”

“Wha- ?!?”  Tara looked towards Oriana’s hat and frantically tried to explain,  “You… you’re the cowboy. I meant you!”

“I know, Tara. Now get over here before I need to pull a knife on you.”

The worry went away from Tara’s face and she moved towards the bed, “Jo brought me a gift from the left-hand of the Godfather in Rome.  Thought you might be interested in it.”  Tara stopped just in front of Oriana.

“There’s only one thing I’m interested in right now. But if you insist…”

Tara extended the hand she held the small box in, offering it to Oriana.  “I used to think of this as mine.  It’s yours, though.”  She held it expectantly in the palm of her hand.
Oriana took the box and opened it; she froze, then closed it with a smile. “Never expected to see that again… Renato?”

She nodded, “He moved up in the ranks since we last saw him.  Leveraged his adventure with us and the lockup of a lot of good men to get a seat at the table.  I… I gave that ring away in order to get you back.  I gave it up for you.  It’s your ring.  I thought maybe you might wear it.  I know we haven’t talked about - us.  Such as it were, but Ori, you’ve been my girl since I saw the closing of that letter you wrote.  Maybe before, if only my head.  I’d be damn glad if you saw it that way too?”

Oriana leaned back as Tara was talking; she removed her blouse and unbuckled her jeans, then placed the box on the nightstand. As Tara kept talking, she froze on the bed, reclining and resting on her elbow. “Thank you for the ring, Tara. I’ll gladly accept the gift…” She paused, struggling to figure out the words. Taking a deep breath, she slid off the bed and knelt in front of Tara. “Look… I’d take a bullet for you. I wouldn’t take a bullet for anyone else in the world other t. In terms of relationship stuff…” Oriana shrugged, looking up at Tara. “You know how fucked I am.” She pre-empted Tara’s protest. “And if you won’t accept that, then at least acknowledge how fucked up every romantic or sexual relationship in my life has been.”

Tara silently nodded, conceding that point to her lover.

“I barely know how to be myself. I definitely don’t know how to be in a normal relationship. I’m not planning on walking down the street and getting and overwhelming desire to blow some guy in an alley- or steam up a car window with Jo or any other girl… I just don’t know anything, Tara. I don’t want you to give me a ring and think that… I just…”

She sighed again.

“Can I say something?”  Tara said looking at Oriana sympathetically.  

“Yes, but only after I tell you that right now I’m very comfortable killing for you and taking a bullet for you. And that I’m often overwhelmed with a desire to have you sit on my tongue until your knees buckle. Right now, that’s all I can honestly offer.”

Tara nodded, “I think you -have some idea how fucked up I’ve felt about myself.  I know it seems silly when I put my feelings about my life next to yours, but I honestly thought until this year that I’d never love anyone or be loved.  I actually thought about running away from myself and the whole damn world… and now I’m looking at things with this whole new perspective. I’m less afraid of the feelings and urges I have.  My dreams don’t seem so insane or perverse anymore, they feel… happy. I like who I am, who I’m becoming and a lot of that has to do with you. Not all of it, but a good portion.”

She shook her head, “I know I’m never going to get married.  I’ll probably never have kids or a life that looks anything like my parents and for a long time I thought that meant I’d be alone and miserable.  Now I see this future where I … I’m not alone. Maybe I see the world with you. Maybe I experience every single strange and wonderful urge and fantasy I have because you don’t judge me.  You like me the way I am and I like you the way you are - scars and all. Maybe we go off and do stupid dangerous things together, gambling and drinking our way from one side of the world to the other - chasing after our own fortunes and never caring that home isn’t a place but a person - or people that we come across along the way.”

She smiled, “You’re home, Ori.  That’s what I learned in Italy. It’s not Canada or New York… my mom, she never figured it out and I’m not sure she still has.  Home wasn’t Hollowpoint for her - but all the people she lost there. And Oriana Montini I’d follow you to Hell, and still feel at home right next to the lake of fire.  If we die before we’re 40 or end up a pair of old ladies raising a herd of cats … telling my nieces and nephews stories about our adventures well, that sounds really good to me.  I don’t need you to promise me forever. I just want to tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself. And if I have to chase you again, I will. I’ll chase you where-ever you need to go… whatever fucked up thing drives you tomorrow, we’ll deal with it.  And God willing, we’ll have some laughs along the way.”

“I just… want you to know, I don’t need any promises from you.  I don’t need you to give me anything for all I’ve said to be true.  My heart doesn’t require a down payment or some oath… this wasn’t an ask.  It was a gift. And for the record if you decide to blow a guy in an alley or steam up a car with Jo - well, I hope I at least get to be along for the fun.  I might not know what the hell to do with such a situation but you’ve been a good teacher so far. I’m pretty sure you could help me figure it all out.”

Oriana sighed again. She didn’t look uncomfortable, but Tara could see a couple signs that she was hesitant. “I like that you feel that way, Tara. I feel a lot of that, too. But can you understand that I’m terr- uncomf- reluctant to make any person that important to me, after my life with Francesco? I’d follow you to hell, too. But I was made to be subservient- to latch on to someone else and follow them. I’ve got to be myself for a little while.”

Tara nodded, her eyes thoughtful, “Okay.  I can accept that.”  She said softly, a smirk starting to tug at the corners of her lips.  “Is … the offer of riding your tongue still open?  Cause… I mean-”

Tara didn’t get another word out.

Forty minutes later, Tara exited the bathroom and returned to bed; with a satisfied smirk, Oriana noted that Tara was still a bit unsteady on her feet. With a content stretch, Ori turned to catnap with a hand draped on Tara’s hip… but the Italian was unsettled by the silence that filled the room.

“You’re too quiet,” said Ori. “What’s wrong? Is it what I said before?”  

Tara stared up at the ceiling, “Just a lot of thoughts rattling around in my head right now.  That happens sometimes. Too many things… so many possible things… sometimes it’s best to just go climb a tree and stay there until I know the right words.  There’s no tree here so…” she shrugged.

“Would you rather think out loud? Or just have me shut up so you can think to yourself?”

She sighed, “That’s a trap question if ever there was one.”  She turned her head to look at Oriana. “I can’t very well not talk to you after saying all that - and not expect you to worry about what I’m thinking, can I?”

“Honestly, yes. I think you’re projecting more than a little there. What if we plan to talk tomorrow?”

Tara made a ‘harumph’ noise.  “Not sure where to begin, that’s more the problem.  It’s not that there is anything in my head I can’t tell you - or wouldn’t.  It’s just there’s a million thoughts, memories, ideas… fears. Feelings that I don’t know what to do with, some that are my own insecurities and not anything more.  I just…”

Tara rolled over and slid close to Oriana and wrapped her arms around her, burying her face against the other woman’s skin.  “I just always want to be my best with you. I hate failing at anything, and you - more than anything in the world - matter to me.  I can’t fuck us up.  I just can’t. So, let me think.  Or ask a question. I’ll always be honest with you, Oriana.  I just want to make sure that when I say something to you it’s because it’s what I mean and that it’s honest and not just something stupid I’m feeling at the moment.  Sometimes I just… need to think.”

“I get that.” Oriana paused. “Do you think we have to go back to the party?”

“I think I’m the daughter of the man who runs this city.  I think you’re the right hand of his Captain. I don’t think we have to do anything we don’t want to do.  The question is, do you want to go back?” 

“Nope,” said Ori. “ But… is Jo sticking around? If she’s just here for a few days, we shouldn’t ditch her. If she’s staying, we can make it up to her.”

“I offered a job.”  Tara admitted.  “Figured it might not be a bad idea to hire a nurse for my yet to be established house of pleasure… and who knows what adventures we might run off on and need a talented healing set of hands along the way for - she was invaluable in Italy.  A trusted friend isn’t someone I’m about to write off, especially with her skill set.”

Oriana raised a teasing eyebrow at “skill set”, but Tara couldn’t see it in the dark. “Well let’s stay here, then. Between dealing with the kids and the last hour or so, I could use a nap. I’ll put the radio on and sleep, you can stare at the ceiling and process your million thoughts. When you inevitably get frustrated from thinking too much in an hour or two, wake me up and I’ll tire you out.”

Tara kissed Ori’s head and drew a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her all mingled with the smell of her own sweat and sex.  “I’ll do that.”  She said against her skin.  “Sleep now.  We’ll talk later.”  Of course, Tara wasn’t sure what that talk would be about, she’d said all there was to say, hadn’t she?  What was left?  This was where they were now.  There was only two choices, accept it, or not.  

She kissed Ori’s head again wondering what it was about this woman that made her keep opening up her chest and exposing her heart so damn fast.  Maybe the breastplate wasn’t such a bad idea after all… maybe she needed to find a figurative one that matched the literal one.  Maybe that was the key.  Looking up to the ceiling she began to contemplate what armor for her heart would even take the form of when it came to Oriana Montini.

Tara slid out of bed sometime around 6am, picking up her outfit and she began to put it on as quietly as she could.  

Oriana was sleeping on her stomach, barely covered by the sheet. Her naked back had several long scratches. Ori was almost always a light sleeper, but in this case she was lightly snoring.

Tara contemplated sneaking out.  Leaving a note. Explaining she needed air, the trees and the sky to make sense of anything in her head - it was the only place she ever felt herself, well, before Naples at least.  But all that waited outside was towers of steel and glass. Loud cars, even at this hour, people… so many damn people. Instead she settled into a chair across from the bed and stared her lover’s shape in the darkness.  She sat like that for a long while before finally, as the sky was showing the very first hints of light, deciding to walk back to the bed and sit down on the edge with enough force that she was confident Ori would stir.

Oriana blinked, hand moving under her pillow under she saw Tara and smiled, flipping onto her back. “How’d the thinking go? And feel free to not answer that if you just want breakfast. Or if you need to go handle something else.”

She froze and hesitated only a moment before turning towards Oriana and then crawled up onto the bed on all fours.  Moving over to Oriana she came over top her at the hips and then bent down to claim a breast in her mouth and, nipping slightly, her eyes predatory and her breath already quickening.  Tara hadn’t been sure what she’d do until the moment she was doing it. Her hands and mouth worked but not in the way she had been plotting all night. Against all her judgements of what would be the wisest course of action, Tara didn’t say a word.  Instead, she was aggressive, and let her lust speak for her - bent utterly on proving she could make Oriana do whatever she wanted, at least this way if no other. She didn’t want her to submit like Francesco, but she wanted Ori to want her, in all ways.  But if lust was their best way to communicate, well, she’d make certain Ori heard her this time and accepted it. She’d make her feel what Tara wanted her to understand - she’d spell it out in a thousand touches and lashes of tongue, she’d find new and wonderful ways to excite her and drive her past the point of reason.  She’d make her insane with a desire to never lose her attention and affections the way she was insane about Oriana’s attentions and affections. If she had to become a master of all things that pleased Oriana’s body well… so be it. She was a good student. The best. No one would be better at Oriana than she was. Ever. And it started now.  

When it was over and they were both spent, Oriana rolled off Tara and lay on her back. She didn’t trust herself to be able to move- or to say anything. She just closed her eyes and rested a hand on Tara’s thigh.  

Tara lay still.  Listening.  Feeling.  Trying to calm her thundering heart.  As Ori’s hand came to rest upon her, Tara reached out and mirrored the action, as if to tell her that she felt the same. 

Tara had wanted to feel this for longer than she’d be willing to admit.  Not the sex.  Though that was good, but the sense of connecting to another person this way.  To be open and naked before them.  It was the reason she opened up her chest and showed her heart to Oriana, when it would have been far wiser to keep herself protected.  She wanted to be vulnerable like this, to share herself with someone the way she’d read about so many other people doing.  She wanted it so much that it didn’t scare her even a little that Oriana’s life, her mind, and her heart were all complex and tangled things.  That Ori was as troubled a person as she’d ever met (or might never meet) again.  In a way, that Ori’s life was so twisted, seemed appropriate.

 Tara wanted to talk, to tell Oriana all the things - but she supposed there was no need.  Ori knew.  Ori knew and it wasn’t about what Tara was or wasn’t doing.  No words or lovemaking would make Ori’s understanding any more complete than it was now.  If there was something more than this for the two of them, Tara didn’t even know what it looked like in truth.  Asking Ori to go through the motions of pretending their relationship could ever even remotely resemble her parents or any other couple she knew, was silly.  Neither of them were like the rest of the world.  They weren’t normal.  Thank God.  Decidedly, that was a good thing in Tara’s book.  So.  This was it.  And in this moment, ‘it’ wasn’t so bad at all.  It could be this way forever and that was enough.  Oriana would always be enough.

“If I don’t talk, will you know how much you mean to me?”  She spoke the words, as much a joke at her own expense as anything.  “If I’m silent, will you be afraid of what means … or do you think maybe, just this once, you’ll know it means that you’ve stolen all the sense from me?”  She turned her head so she could see a bit more of her lover’s body - though she could not see her face.

During the course of Tara’s extensive thinking, Oriana had drifted off to the most contented sleep of her life- or at least the last decade. Tara’s questions were answered only by deep breathing and a reassuring hand resting on her thigh.

Ori’s left eye snapped open and looked with confusion at the window. Her body felt… loved. Sore. But all her physical feedback was ignored due to her mental confusion.

Why was it dark outside?

“Tara. Tara.” Oriana shook the other woman’s shoulder. “It’s nighttime. Did you have anything important scheduled for today?”

Groggily, “Yep.  I did.” The corner of her lip turned up.  “I think I managed to do it pretty well, but man, I definitely need some water.  And something to eat… and a shower. And … maybe a massage… ouch. How can a jaw hurt this bad?”

Oriana kissed Tara’s jaw, then slid off the bed to start walking toward the shower.

“Well I was supposed to scout out a target today… guess I’ll have to improvise tomorrow.”

Tara muttered, “I just achieved my bachelor’s degree from the Gavin Byrne school of ditching responsibility to bang sexy Italian women.  I want to thank all the little people who made this possible.” she giggled. “All that studying of Nona Bella’s journal has finally paid off.”

“I’m sure Bacchus will be very proud. But I’m starving. Let’s go get break- dinner.”

“Now I know why he won’t let people miss dinner.”  She said with a smile. “But you have to tell me something… and I want you to be brutally honest.  I mean, I gotta know.”

Oriana froze with a hand on the frame of the bathroom door.

“Okay.”

“You’ve been with men and women… is it… like that?  I mean, that was…” she tried to find the words but failed, instead giving her father’s signature ‘dumb’ grin.  “I can’t fathom that it’s anything like that, is it? The same? Better? Different?”

“Top 20- no, top 15.” Oriana started to move toward the bathroom, but pulled herself back. She was trying to flippant, but she considered things from Tara’s perspective and took a deep breath.

Tara was looking at her expectantly, clearly speaking from a genuine desire to know.

“I can’t tell you how good that was without giving you an overly inflated sense of self. I’d never hear the end of it. But that was…” Oriana searched for the word. “... special.” Then she darted into the bathroom and closed the door.

Tara fell back onto the bed and smiled.  It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but it was better.  Special.

Oriana stood under the shower, thinking about the answer to Tara’s question. 

Most people could live a thousand years and never have a night like that.