Flight 6

DISCLAIMER: All My Children is the property of ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Flight
By Rudeboy

Chapter 6

August 20^th – 11:00 AM

Maggie walked into the kitchen from her room and plopped down in the chair opposite Bianca at the corner table. "What ya doin'?"

Bianca's head was bowed, reading a magazine. She looked up with only her eyes. "Solving world hunger… what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Whoa, someone is testy today!"

Bianca smiled and looked back down at her magazine, flipping a page. "Sorry. Guess I haven't mastered your smart ass streak yet."

"You'll get there, young one."

"Gee… thanks," she said with a laugh. She closed her magazine and tossed it across the table. "In all actuality… nothing! What are you up to?"

"Well, my paper is done, and I actually have the rest of the weekend open now."

Bianca leaned forward, folding her arms to lean on. "Oh really? So just what did you have in mind to entertain yourself?"

Maggie leaned forward, resting on her left arm, her lips hovering inches from her girlfriend's. "Well… I was thinking maybe we should go out tonight."

"Well, that certainly sounds like a plan to me," she said as she leaned in even closer. "And just where did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe some dinner, and then…" as she got to where their lips were close enough to feel each other's breath on their own moist lips.

"Uh-huh."

Maggie went in for the kiss, but just before their lips made full contact, she mumbled "Dancing."

Bianca pulled back. "That was so not fair!"

"You like dancing!"

"Yeah, in small groups! I just know you want to go to some big, loud club!"

"Bianca… we have been in Paris almost six months, it has one of the most happening night life scenes in the world, so I have heard," Maggie resisted the urge to chuckle at Bianca squinting her eyes and glaring at her, "It won't kill us to go out for one night and, you know, be young. We are young, remember? And somehow I don't remember you complaining when we went to prom," she said with an enormous grin.

"Just had to go there, didn't you?"

"Yep! I need this, Bianca… the rest of this semester looks to be nuts, and before I crawl into a deep dark hole of medical texts, I just want one night to be young and carefree."

Bianca stared at her for a moment, her eyes narrowing, studying her. "Fine… go call Patrick and see if Guilia is free tonight."

Maggie clapped excitedly and stood up, lunging to throw her arms around Bianca's neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You're so not welcome," she said with a chuckle.

Maggie pushed back from Bianca, her hands resting on the taller girl's shoulders. "Oh! You know what this means, don't you?"

"Oh god… clothes shopping?"

"Oh come on, you know we have to have the PERFECT outfits!"

August 20^th – 10:30 PM

"Well, considering the number of pictures Guy shot, I guess we got the right outfits," Bianca grunted as they made their way past the doormen, entering into the Redlight night club.

"Seriously, how does he ALWAYS seem to know where we're going to be before even we do?"

"I have no clue, if I did, I'd put an end to it as quickly as possible."

"Patrick seemed none to pleased to see him."

Bianca grinned largely, and cocked an eyebrow. "Good!"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm dying to get in here." She grabbed Bianca's right hand with her left and dragged her through the entrance hall into the main room of the cavernous club.

Laser lights split the haze that hung in the air, a mixture of cigarette smoke and body heat that was as intoxicating as it was nauseating. The 'thumpa-thumpa' of the music hit them squarely in the chest of their "Looks Do Kill" outfits.

Bianca transformed her normally "regal" appeal to dub herself "London Chic". The evening's attire: a black halter tied at the back of the neck, tightly fit to highlight her hour-glass figure which seamlessly melted over her perfectly matching 'painted-on' jeans. The cut of the jeans was key to showing off her shoes which were open-toed and secured with bright red, thin straps that extended above her ankles. Earlier in the evening, upon hearing the click of Bianca's step, Maggie had been rendered speechless as she slowly drank in the sight of Bianca. The noticeable effect on the shorter woman had always acted as Bianca's 'seal of approval'.

Maggie's hair was pulled up in messiness, showing off her neck, which was especially emphasized by her bright blue cut-neck top that seductively slid off her shoulders and so tantalizingly revealed her hot pink bra straps. The whole top gave room to breathe until you hit her hips where the shirt became stretch to fit over her mini skirt. Maggie decided on above-the-knee suede boots which fully accentuated her legs, daring you not to check out her thighs. Maggie completed the appeal of the "smoky eyed school girl" by using none other than her boots to hold the only necessities a girl truly needs - she secured her i.d. and money inside one boot and tucked a tiny lip gloss into the other.

They were sexy by anyone's standards, and after a quick survey of their 'competition' in the club that night, it was obvious there would be many tongues set a wagging by their newly purchased looks. While neither woman was looking for a fresh notch on their non-existent belts, it never hurt to get a bit of an ego boost.

They maneuvered their way through the crowd in serpentine fashion, finally making it to the bar. Bianca leaned over the service area and yelled at the bartender for a bottle of their best champagne. When the Cambias corporate card was passed over, the girls found themselves quickly whisked to the VIP section of the club by a hostess. They toasted with their champagne flutes to the power of the name that seemed to make all things in Paris possible, ignoring the darker portions of its history.

Maggie started to slide out of the booth. "Come on!"

Bianca took another sip of her champagne. "Really, Maggie, you go, I'm going to stay here. I'll be fine."

The shorter woman swung out of the booth, turned around and leaned over, putting her face inches from Bianca's. "Sweetie? You do not go out and spend the insane amount of money we did on clothes today, to sit in a booth and watch. You get out on the floor and you shake what your momma gave you, which, in your case, is quite a lot," her infamous lopsided grin appearing.

Bianca grinned and blushed all at once. "From ta-ta's to boom boom?"

Maggie threw her head back in a laugh, returning to stare her girlfriend in the face once more. "From ta-ta's to boom boom!" She held out her hand, waiting for Bianca to accept the silent invitation.

Bianca looked from the hand to Maggie's sparkling eyes; they were so full of life and desire. How could she say no to that? She couldn't, or more precisely, wouldn't. She set her glass down, took her girlfriend's hand, and was led out to the dance floor.

August 20^th – 11:58 PM

The non-stop 'thumpa-thumpa' kept driving the heaving sea of humanity. At times it was difficult to tell where you started and others stopped. Close and tight was how the floor danced. Bodies of strangers, or friends, it didn't matter here, you were all pressed against one another. It was like watching the crashing waves of the ocean smash against rocks. One side of the room would move, forcing the other half to move in reaction, a non-stop back-and-forth fight for control of the dance floor turned war zone.

None of this affected these two girls; they were all the other needed. They started with a decent amount of space between them, but as the floor moved en masse, their physical gap closed, pressing them closer and closer together. Now they were at a distance that forced them into constant physical contact, any and all movements began and ended with some part of their bodies touching.

Their smiles were nervous and unsure - yes they had been sleeping in the same bed for weeks, making out, cuddling, being close, but never had they been this close in such a sexually charged atmosphere. It was palpable and tangible; a commodity traded and sold here, that passed under their noses, filling their senses, which they couldn't help but to become drunk on.

Each song sent them dancing closer and closer to an edge of a cliff that seemed unavoidable, and neither was sure they were ready for. Their bodies tingled, partially from their own desires and partially from the random, ravenous, groping hands of the faceless mob that kept finding them.

Finally Bianca couldn't take any more, she had to rest, get some semblance of fresh air. She pointed back to their table; Maggie pouted, but never stopped her own dancing. Bianca signaled for her to stay there, she'd be back in a bit. Maggie nodded and closed her eyes again, letting the never-ending bass attack wash over her.

Bianca made it back to the table, and crawled behind it to plop down on the bench. She let out a breath like she had run a marathon. The waitress for the VIP section came over immediately with a glass of water and a refill of her champagne.

The water was quickly gone and the champagne was not far behind. Bianca crossed her right leg over her left, her richly decorated foot slowly kicking back and forth. She crossed her left arm over her stomach, her right keeping the champagne in mid-air as she watched Maggie from a distance now.

She smirked as she watched boy after boy come over and try to dance with her. She would act as if she didn't notice them and slowly turn away so as not to face them any longer. This isn't to say one or two girls didn't attempt also, but they received the same treatment as the men.

After two glasses of champagne, it was obvious it was going straight to her head and the non-stop "thumpa-thumpa" wasn't helping matters. Even with the pain and growing headache, she couldn't take her eyes off of Maggie, and apparently no one else could any more. The dance floor was slowly giving her more space, the platform dancers in their 'Cabaret-meets-SS leather' look were losing their appeal as more and more eyes fell on Maggie Stone.

It became like some form of dark, symbiotic relationship. She was taking energy from them, siphoning it off, converting it, and releasing it back into the crowd. One could no longer exist without the other and neither desired it to be any other way. She owned the floor, where she moved, they followed, but she was oblivious to it all. The only time she would open her eyes would be to lock her gaze on Bianca, who would lock back. Bianca was content to watch, Maggie danced for them both.

After a few more songs, Maggie's lips were dry. Tired of licking them, she walked to the edge of the dance floor where there were some stools. She hiked her left foot up onto the lowest wrung of the stool and fished her lip gloss out of the top of her boot. She ran it over her lips a few times and returned it to its nest before she headed out to dance some more.

Every second of this maneuver had been observed by more than a few eyes. Male, female, it no longer made any difference. They either loved her or hated her, the line blurred on so many levels. The only pair of eyes she cared about were dark, sultry, and currently watching her over the lip of a champagne flute.

August 21^st – 12:40 AM

Bianca wasn't sure how her friend could keep dancing this long, but her headache was getting worse. After watching Maggie for a few more minutes, she leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes and relaxed - not the easiest of feats in a club like this.