baudin, skylar

“There’s truly no higher compliment than knowing my neighbour actually likes me.” Speaking of, as Cora consumed the remaining red within her grasp, she promptly disappeared into the kitchen. Emerging only when her hands were occupied with what would be perhaps deemed more Skylar’s taste - Noah’s Mill bourbon. Selected with the intention of gifting to the woman before her. “This is for you,” she offers a half-moon smile, her hands gesturing to the bottle in question. “Consider it some form of Christmas gift.” Cora returned to the prior topic as she seeks out something more her taste, her heart remaining with her true love: red wine. “I don’t know… Men are easier to fuck with? I feel like women deserve to be worshipped - which doesn’t really tie in with my schedule. Men, on the other hand, I couldn’t really give a shit what they want. They’re just content with having a woman touch them.”

***

Skylar was quick to open the cap of her newly gifted bourbon without a second’s hesitation. Bourbon was the love of her life, afterall, good bourbon especially. “I miss the fifteen year version,” she said, filling a third of the empty wine glass with the alcohol. “But this --...” Taking a long sip, she took in the sharp notes of cinnamon, letting it float in her mouth momentarily before swallowing. “This is still excellent, regardless.” She tilted her head to the side as she thought about the gifts she had gotten that would be promptly delivered at people’s doors Christmas morning. “Please feel free to use your gift in your next offering,” was all she said before taking another sip. “God, remember when I did that in high school thinking I was bisexual to discover, no, I was as gay as the day was long? The fuck was I thinking?” She inquired, metaphorically more than anything, laughing at the thought of being into men. “Well, you know who to go to if your schedule ever opens up,” she said with a teasing tilt in her tone.

“Any bar that has a bunch of hanging televisions and rowdy yelling is a sports bar to me I don’t know what you mean!” Cataleya continued. Mainly to save herself once again from the hindsight judgement, she hadn’t caught wind about the bragging until after she had to admit defeat for her wrong pick via text to the woman beside her. Either which way, no matter how the night ended they always considered it a win. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she eyed up the redhead that Skylar had clearly set her visual claws into. Something about the woman screamed innocent, but Cataleya was on the side of weary, perhaps that was all for appearances. “You spotted her so you get the first pull,” She said with a chuckle. “I’ll make my way over to that brunette over there,” She pointed out on the other side of the bar.

***

“If there isn’t at least three pool tables, a dart board, and no college football playing on the TV at any given moment, then fuck no it’s not a sports bar,” Skylar replied easily, having fun with the banter. Meeting someone that had a competitive streak that fed into her own was always a treat. And Cataleya was certainly a treat and a half. One she could shoot the breeze with any given night without expectation for more. The MLB lockout had her bored, leaving her with less work to do so she needed to entertain herself. “Sometimes it’s the ones you least expect,” she said while raising her glass to clink with the other woman’s own. My ex was like that, she almost revealed. But she knew to be careful now. “Meet you back here in fifteen.”

.

Ryan’s immediate reaction was to take that as a threat, but she had a feeling Skylar wouldn’t be too pleased if she threw a punch off of just that. “I would kick your ass, don’t think you want to go there,” Ryan pointed out with a shrug. “And if you want to vent and cry, I guarantee I won’t listen to a word you say, so…”

***

"I don’t make bets if I know there’s the smallest chance of me losing,” Skylar retorted with a bitch are you serious look. “And for the love of God, no. Didn’t realize I had to spell it out.” Annoyance rolled off her in waves, though she knew it wasn’t exactly the other woman’s fault. “I was talking about us fucking and definitely breaking a few lamps in the process.”

.

❛ You sure did, weirdo, ❜ he joked, shaking his head a little as he pretended to judge her. Maybe he did, a little. Skylar was usually good at remembering details but perhaps her mind was so occupied with work things at the moment. Who knew? It could do with someething else to think about, maybe. Like his problems. Except, to Skylar it didn’t really seem to be a problem based on her reaction. She almost seemed happy. Maybe Max would be too, if it had been a good idea to kiss Cora. But it hadn’t.❛ You don’t get it, ❜ he hummed, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, doing his best to collect the feelings and thoughts into one cohesive sentence. Yes they were both single but he’d wandered into deep waters where he hadn’t been in forever and he didn’t know what was hiding there. ❛ I haven’t kissed her since I was a teenager, Sky. It sent me right back, and I don’t know what it means. ❜ Sucking in a breath, he let it out in a sigh as if it would clear his mind. ❛ I was a little drunk… Obviously. But I’ve been drunk with her before and we’ve still never crossed that line after we broke up. ❜

***

Clearly, Skylar wasn’t the best person to be on the receiving end of this revelation -- she was pondering why it seemed like he was feeling guilt over a perfectly normal thing but she hardly understood. “I had to practically threaten you into asking her out and tell you to not be such a fucking Nervous Nancy when it came to kissing her so just... mind me for a minute here.” A pro in her career, she was good at getting the nitty gritty and spinning stories in her favor but when it came to her personal life? It was an entirely different story. She wanted to try to mitigate this somehow, have him feeling better -- afterall she considered him her boy. “Well I can’t imagine she’s the type of woman anyone gets over, even after what? A fucking decade? Christ, no. It’s been fifteen.” Pausing momentarily, she had to take stock of the fact she had known him that long. “The fact you’re not six feet under the ground is a testament how --... special you are. Anyway,” She wanted to quickly brush that off, get back on subject. “You are still in love with her and whatever the hell you drank bought those feelings you pushed down to the surface. And on that note, I need to know what it was so I can avoid it at all cost.”

“The lighting in that bar you dragged us too made the guy look like Chris Evans,” Cataleya pleaded with a feigned sort of annoyance. “If that was the justice he could do for America though, we’re doomed.” She concluded, recalling that while she did go home with her allotted target the poor sap not only did not deliver but ended up sobbing halfway through the romp. It was poor judgment call on Cataleya’s end, beer goggles and all. She sipped on her martini then, eye brow raising at Skylar’s proposition. “You went without me kitten?” She pouted slightly. “I only ask that I get first look.” 

***

“Woman, it was a sports bar,” Skylar retorted, raising an eyebrow in judgment. Big time judgment. “Well, no shit. I knew right away just ‘cos he was bragging.” Shivers went down her spine at what she heard that night. “People that are all tell do not show, in my experience.” Deft fingers held on the straw, stirring around her drink. She never did well staying still, preferring to be on the go. “Mm, sure did. That’s why they call it... a surprise. Just so you wait and see. And don’t think you’re getting it out of me because you’re not.”  Her attention turned to a redhead feigning interest on the football game playing on a nearby television screen, eyes filling with mischievous glee. “She looks shy.”

---

“I swear to God, if you lay your eyes on another beige Chris looking motherfucker, I will shank you,” Skylar grumbled out toward the other woman, drinking her old Manhattan from a tiny black straw. Studious eyes scanned the crowd, pondering possibilities, seeking challenges. “We should up the ante tonight. I’ve already booked a room nearby and put in a few delightful surprises in the nightstand...”

.

    ❛ You definitely have me confused with someone else. How do you call yourself my best friend? Unacceptable, ❜ he let out a small chuckle, obviously teasing her but his expression still a little confused. He’d always been right handed. To be fair he was very little into baseball for someone who had grown up with a friend who knew everything about it. His High School and College years had been all about football. ❛ Yeah but… ❜ Her hand on his shoulder felt oddly comforting but actually saying out loud what had happened, what he’d done – it would probably make it too real and it make it feel even more stupid. He met Skylar’s eyes for a moment, his lips pressing into a thing line while he let a breath out through flared nostrils. He finally spoke, quietly, as if he was ashamed and quite frankly, maybe he was. Why couldn’t he have just not done it? He’d managed to for almost fifteen fucking years.     ❛ I kissed Cora. ❜

***

“I guess I got my alternative universes mixed up, my bad,” Skylar said with a teasing lilt to her tone, wondering how the hell Max wasn’t left handed. She tended to get the small details about people right, paid attention to that sort of thing but apparently not this one. Holding in her breath, she fidgeted her foot against the floor as she waited for him to spill whatever it was he was about to spill. She was about to nudge him on the shoulder when the revelation came out, tilting her head in mild confusion. “You kissed... Cora?” Her neighbor, one of her favorite people to hang around, and they spent the night at each other’s place on occasion. And oh, his ex-girlfriend but she had hardly done relationships so she wasn’t familiar with the innate details of what and what not to do. “Okay, and... What else is there? You’re single. She’s single.  I mean, shit, I’d kiss the shit out of her if it wasn’t for the fact I actually fucking like her.” There was a pause as she squeezed on his shoulder. “And no, not like that.”

.

❛ Ah, of course, ❜ he mused, one brow raised as he shook his head a little. ❛ I have a perfectly good right hand and mouth for either of those things, ❜ he reminded her with a smirk, amused by how Skylar avoided talking about men’s nether regions in a sexual way like it would cause her to drop dead on the spot. Not that he was really in the mood for either of those things at the moment, constantly reminded by what his left hand currently looked like under the bandages. Also, his mind was elsewhere. ❛ Things you wouldn’t even tell me, huh, or am I the exception? ❜ The fuck did you do now. Her words made him scoff softly and he threw her a glance before dark eyes dropped to the floor. ❛ I don’t really feel like getting slapped over the head repeatedly right now, honestly. But… It was bad. Stupid. More stupid than usual. ❜

***

“Aren’t you left handed though?” Skylar questioned curiously, tilting her head away from Max as it that would help her not hear what he was saying. “It’s not that I won’t tell you, it’s that it’d make zero fucking sense to someone that doesn’t watch the sport. And unfortunately...” She let out an overly dramatic sigh. Though she still wasn’t a fan of him being hurt, she had dropped the pretense... for now. She knew all too well what it was like to be haunted mentally, whether they bought it into themselves and whether it happened to them. And what happened to her wasn’t something she had dealt with at all, so she wasn’t the best judge of character. But did that stop her from thinking she was? Absolutely not. Her job involved fixing problems and putting people in the best possible light so whatever Max threw her way she figured she could deal with easily. “Max, I work in P-fuckin-R and my clients are mostly athletes. Trust me, bud. I’ve heard it all.” Eyes bulging, she leaned in and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “So, spill.”

.

❛ Exactly. ❜ A half-healrted smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. His mind was jumbled with thoughts he couldn’t straighten out for the life of him. Trying to explain them, and how he was feeling, felt foreign, and with Skylar it was always good to be direct. With this, he couldn’t be. Well, with the hand-incident he could. It was something that could be seen, something that had an explanation. Cora? It was complicated and he hated how he didn’t have control over the situation anymore simply because he messed up. ❛ I’m not… Entirely sure what you’re getting at here, ❜ he narrowed his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line when she patted his cheek. ❛ Ha-ha. ❜ Trouble was probably an understatement. ❛ Oh really, what’s got you so busy? ❜

***

“I’m talking marine biology, my dear sweet Max,” Skylar said though it almost sounded insulting but she meant it with a whole lot of love. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she leaned in closer like she was about to tell a secret. “Eating pussy,” she mustered with confidence, loud enough the next door neighbor could likely hear it. “And... the other... thing.” Now that was not heard by anyone other than Max and maybe a ghost of their pasts in the room -- she preferred not to think about men in that capacity. She sat down on the edge of the loveseat, spreading out her legs and making herself comfortable. “It’s a whole lot of baseball contract bullshit, reading over fine print and making sure nothing gets leaked.” There was a pause as she realized something from seconds prior. “Also, you didn’t exactly confirm not getting into trouble. The fuck did you do now?”

“I have a type,” she huffs, not quick to disagree. She was all too aware of how it appeared. “It’s a curse I’m trying to overcome.” Desperately - she’d suppose the most recent incident would be the catalyst for an overhaul. The thought sits with her; a single hand bringing her wine glass to her lips, the fruity undertones a comfort upon her tongue. “How on earth can I deviate from that - hair colour, zodiac, gender? I mean… I suppose I always did find women more interesting.”

***

Skylar’s fingers moved up and down the wine glass before she downed the rest of the drink in one long sip. The restraint it took to not crush the glass was too much to bear but she hated the idea of wasting alcohol. “This is what I get for actually liking you and living next to you. I’m cursed by your curse,” she murmured out as she grabbed ahold of the wine bottle sitting on the table, pouring the remainder into her glass. “Cora, I’ve been telling you to go fishing in the sea of women for the past, oh-- forever. So, why haven’t you?” She inquired with an eyebrow raise, swirling the wine around.

.

❛ Fuck’s sake. Sky, ❜ he hissed when hand wrapped around his wrist. Thankfully that wasn’t burned but it made him jerk away slightly because it was close enough to what the bandage covered. A sigh fell from his lips. eyes rolling for a short moment. ❛ I just burned it at work. Palmed a pot like a fucking idiot. ❜ He’d done more of that idiocy thing lately and it had put him in a slightly distressed state on top of being bored from not being able to go to work or do things that required two hands. Skylar could definitely be a good distraction. ❛ You can start bullying me now, go ahead. ❜

***

“Oh you burned it,” Skylar retorted in response, scoffing as her fingers loosened her grip on his wrist..“So I have to fight you and a fucking pot now?” She let out a breath of a laugh, the absurdity of the situation getting to her in this case. “That’s so unlike you, Max,” she said while giving him a look of faux disappointment, corners of her mouth twitching. “Well, I mean. It’s not like you really need a hand for your most favorite thing in the world after cooking. Still got your mouth there, bud." She patted his cheek for good measure. "Hopefully it’s not getting you into too much trouble, I only have so much time in my day.”

“-And pain and fever can be a sign of sepsis,” she retorts, an arch to her brow. She knew her taste was beyond repair - they were pretty, almost too pretty for her own good. An unfortunate reality for Cora and her questionable taste. After all, there had been no time since Max was perched in her very spot. “Which one are we referring to this time?” 

***

“Your latest conquest? Fuck. The one with the scruff and --... hair...” Skylar waved her hand around dismissively, furrowing her eyebrows to think about the last one she had seen. Shudder. “You know I’m not paying attention and that it looks like you just played around with the clone stamp in Photoshop.” Taking a sip of her wine, she leaned back into the couch. “Please, I beg you... change it up. I don’t enjoy having to trash you every time I see you.”

---

Living next door to Cora certainly had its advantages, that was for damn sure, and she was grabbing as much of the other woman’s limited free time as she could. Settling onto the couch like it was her own, wine glass in hand, she shook her head almost as if she was disappointed. “Has anyone told you lately that you have the most tragic taste in men?” She inquired before quickly moving on, “Because you have the most tragic taste in men.”

---

“I need to take out my frustrations on someone today,” Skylar said immediately upon sight, not one for greetings. “And you just happen to be the lucky idiot today. However you take that is up to you.”

---

Not even a hi, hello, or a polite greeting, just an immediate jump into what the fuck. Days had passed since they had last seen each other and Skylar was less than enthused. Especially at the sight of gauze wrapped around his hand. Her fingers gripped his wrist as she pondered the possibilities at what happened. She was battling a few minor injuries, of course -- it was the way, but Max getting hurt was unacceptable in her book. “Explain.”

time: 21:02 p.m. location: the octavium status: closed for @skylarbaudass

From beyond the building, the vibrations could be felt through each brick; greeting your eardrums with the vehement strings of an electric guitar. Cora had caught the whispers of a band performing at the local venue and had insisted the pair attended. When they arrived, however, the whispers had accumulated into a sea of bustling people - all of which were eagerly anticipating the thunderous clash of both symbols and strings.       “So, these are meant to be good, huh?” The question is rhetorical, her eyes skirting across the mass of strangers all colliding as one. No average band could lure in the masses to this extent. Presuming Skylar is within arms length, she wades throughout one body to the next and leads them both towards walls lined with liquor bottles and several bartenders. “Anything catch your eye?”

***

Good music, pretty women, and good drinks was pretty much Skylar’s definition of a good time. And well of course she wasn’t going to say no to someone like Cora. Smart, accomplished, and insanely beautiful. At Cora’s insistence, she immediately cleared up her evening. Her client could sweat for one more day. Being in the crowd and bumping against other bodies, however, was not ideal, as she preferred to stay on the outskirts for her own comfort. Her second favorite hobby, she liked to say, was people watching, and this, right here at the bar, was the perfect spot to do that. “Besides you?” She answered with a slow head tilt, leaning against the bar. “Top shelf whiskey over there. I’m always a sucker for a good Old Manhattan.”