Title: Secret Identities in a Dark Bar
Rating: pea.gee.xiii for adult situations
Pairing: John Hoynes/Sam Seaborne, Kate Harper
Spoilers: Nothing really. Life on Mars, for Hoynes' situation. General season 6 for Kate.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone -- I'm just playing with these people, and I'll put 'em back later!
Summary/Notes/Warnings: Slash, but not graphic. So, you've been warned. Also, I'm posting this at a late hour, and if there are big typos or generally bad writing bits, my tired eyes can't find 'em. So, I apologise for that :-\
She forgot how easy it was to melt into a sea of people, to wear a new disguise, to be someone other than Kate Harper. Of course, it was easier to do when she wasn't in Washington; the nightlife of Los Angeles was significantly less political. Nobody cared about who she was -- except for that sleezy guy who asked her if she wanted to be in a movie, that sleezy guy she shoved into a wall -- and as a brunette in leather pants and stilettos, she hardly looked like her other self.
After ordering her second gin and tonic, she looked out over the sea of nameless people. The dance floor was a sea of gyrating bodies; everyone was trying to find a mate, solace for the evening. Kate sipped her drink and leaned back against the bar, watching them all with jaded eyes.
Movement was all around the bar, but it was a motionless couple in a dark booth that attracted her attention. Two men in shadows, successfully avoiding the neon lights that were everywhere, staring at each other over drinks. She tilted her head and watched them; the first man was unknown to her, but the second man's face was more familiar.
John Hoynes looked younger in person, she silently mused as she let her drink slide over her tongue. She didn't know if it was because of the atmosphere, his wardrobe, or the marginally younger man sitting next to him. The mystery man was drinking from a bottle of beer; John was drinking a glass of clear liquid. She guessed, by the way he wasn't reacting to each sip, that he was drinking water or soda.
She watched them, her curiousity getting the better of her. Was she allowed to smoke in there? She didn't know or care as she pulled one cigarette out of her tiny purse and lit it. The nicotine calmed the sensations rising up from inside of her, sensations stirred by the sight of the younger man kissing John's neck, of John demanding a more thorough kiss and dragging his partner's lips up to his.
Shifting against the bar, she briefly considered looking away. But, then, she realised that they didn't know her, and it was likely that no one in the bar knew her, so she could act however she wished. They stopped kissing and she felt pangs of disappointment; but she also felt the gentle flutter of anticipation as she waited for more.
They left; they left their table, and they left her wanting to see more. John's fingers had been hooked into his companion's beltloops, as the images of the men together hooked into Kate's nervous and circulatory systems. Once the men's washroom door had swung shut, Kate imagined that it would be locked, but she wasn't entirely sure.
The DJ changed songs, and the crowded bar became a crowded dance floor. Kate downed the rest of her drink and stood, looking forward to join the ocean of people -- to float, to wave, to sway to the music.
The bodies were faceless; she closed her eyes and imagined what John Hoynes and his secret lover were doing in the bathroom. Any friction she felt against her skin only enhanced the effect of the images in her mind.
She danced through two more songs, stopping when she felt her age -- and someone's hand pressed against her ass. She shot a polite but dangerous smile in the direction of the offender, and then she sauntered back to the bar.
"Miss?" The bartender said when she had claimed a stool at the counter. He put a drink on the table. She looked down at it -- gin and tonic on ice, fizzing against the cool tumbler -- and then back at the bartender. He smiled and pointed behind her. "The men in the booth bought it for you."
She turned her head, letting her eyes follow the direction of his pointing finger. The men had returned and were looking very relaxed in their booth. John raised his drink and smirked.
Kate picked up the glass and raised it in return. She smiled at the bartender. "Thank you," she said, before getting up and approaching the men.
"Did you enjoy the show?" the former Vice President asked.
Kate cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"
The mystery man rolled his eyes. "Please. We saw you staring at us."
She was glad the lighting was dim; she didn't want them to see her blush. "Then, in that case, I enjoyed the show."
"Would you like to join us?" John asked.
With a smile that betrayed how her stomach tightened and burned, she nodded and joined them, sandwiching John between herself and the other man.