&fic;

 

Matching Weight

by sugargroupie

NC-17, 16,116 words

Summary: Rachel Luttrell gets more than she ever expected when she winds up with a handful of stolen diamonds and the attention of a launderer by the name of Torri Higginson, tasked with selling the diamonds for her.

Pairing/Characters: Rachel Luttrell/Torri Higginson (with appearances by: Jason Momoa, Joe Flanigan, Rainbow Sun Francks, Claudia Black and Ben Browder)

Disclaimer: This portrayal is entirely fictional.

Notes: written for thelittlebang's multi-fandom femslash bang challenge. Thanks to Ladyjax and Shannon for their reviews at varying stages of writing this story. Title and lyrics are from "Matching Weight" by Trespassers William.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Blind times
Thought we were matching weight
We pulled
Sometimes it was you and sometimes it was me
But where are we

Rachel rushes into the idling SUV and braces herself against her seat as the car speeds away. Her movements are unhurried as she tugs the mask off her face and swipes at the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. Rachel counts in her head, slow and steady, until her heartbeat no longer feels like a steel drum in her chest.

Eventually, her hands stop shaking.

They drive a few minutes before she feels comfortable enough retrieving her stolen bounty from a hidden pocket in her pants. She carefully unties the satin bag and spills its contents into her left palm: a handful of uncut diamonds sparkle back at her, as if greeting their new owner. Rachel stares in awe, not truly believing she'd have such good fortune. She did not expect to walk away from this job with stones worth millions of dollars stuffed in her pocket, but here they are.

She scoops them back into the pouch and places them for safe keeping in her leather messenger bag, near her feet, then slings the strap over her shoulder and across her chest. Just to be safe.

Pulling her disguise off her head completely, Rachel lets the mask fall silently to the floor and sits forward in her seat.

Claudia looks a little too excited in the driver's seat, but Rachel understands. No matter how many times they've done this, escaping provides a rush unlike anything she's ever felt before. From her limited experience, Rachel likens it to drug high from smoking weed. Of course, her team members would know more than she if her comparison is accurate.

Rachel slides her gaze over to Joe on the passenger side as he removes his mask and ear piece. Touching her ear piece absently, she recalls how adamant Joe had been about sparing no expense on resources; that the amount they'd spend on hardware and fancy gadgets would be doubled in return.

And, while Rachel hasn't always agreed with some of the purchases Joe has made, she can't deny how useful the gadgets, and Joe's absurd amount of disposable income, have been. So it's not surprising that Flan (Rachel's never been able to call him anything but Joe with a straight face) is considered by most of their team, and coined by Jason, unsurprisingly, to be a rich ass motherfucker.

Joe's never hidden the fact that he comes from money, or that he actually doesn't need the small fortune they've managed to acquire. Rachel tries not to think about how much their worth will increase from this job. She's still having difficulty accepting that the diamonds are real.

Rachel smiles, remembering Jason's perfectly timed response to Joe's explanation of why he wanted to join their group: "See -- this is what happens when rich white men get bored."

Her amusement is cut short by Joe meeting her eyes over his shoulder and a voice echoing in her ear. "Thanks Rainbow. We'll see you in a minute," she says, removing her ear piece with a final sigh.

"Everything all right?"

Rachel nods, meeting Joe's gaze. "Yes. I just, I can't wrap my head around this."

Joe opens his mouth to respond but Claudia interrupts him. "What are you going to do with a bunch of diamonds?" She quickly looks at Rachel in the rearview mirror before turning her attention back to driving. "It's not like you can go into the nearest pawn shop and get a good return, you know."

"That's true," Rachel says.

Joe shrugs. "I may be able to help you out with that."

"Of course you can," Claudia responds dryly.

Rolling his eyes, he continues. "I know a fence, a good one, who has extensive contacts that could move those diamonds for us."

Well, that's interesting, Rachel thinks. She's curious now, and anybody whom Joe speaks so highly of must be good at what they do. He does it so rarely it's practically a ringing endorsement. "Who is it?"

Joe rubs his hands together, leaning towards Rachel. "Torri Higginson. She's discreet, professional and," he tells her with a smile, "pretty to look at."

Rachel is silent, prompting Joe to ask, "What?" self-consciously.

"I'm waiting on the sexual innuendo."

"I'm not alluding to anything, if that's what you mean," he replies smartly. One beat later he says, "But she's great in bed."

Rachel chuckles. "You're terrible."

Claudia snorts from the driver's seat and Rachel raises one brow, wondering if Claudia's response is from amusement (which it often is where Joe is concerned), sheer disbelief (also possible) or a subconscious reaction due to personal experience. Rachel's always suspected something had happened between them, and now she just hopes they're smart enough not to let it interfere with the job.

"Anyway," Rachel redirects, and Joe sends her a grateful look, "how do I contact Torri?"

"I'll get you her address once we're at the warehouse. She operates out of an antique store, you know, for appearances."

Rachel nods her thanks and sits back, relaxing into the silence. She digs out her iPod from her bag, slips the ear buds into her ears, and soon music filters in. Looking out the window, she can tell, even at this time of night -- technically morning -- that they're not too far from home.

She can hear Claudia and Joe's voices lulling in the background, and she closes her eyes for the remainder of the drive.

*

Inside the loft, Joe slides the heavy door shut with more force than necessary, the lock shifting into place with a loud clank. "Hey kids," he calls out, "daddy and your two mommies are home with presents!"

Rachel rolls her eyes as she drapes her earphones around her neck, waving to Claudia as the other woman heads for the iron staircase, undoubtedly on her way to see Ben.

Joe bumps his arm against Rachel's with a grin. "Hey Claude, keep it down in there, will you?"

"Fuck off, Flan!" Claudia yells and slams the door. A moment later the door opens again and Ben says laughingly, "Welcome back, guys. Uh we'll see you later," and shuts the door again.

Rachel giggles, recalling the all too familiar expression on Claudia's face in the car. Claudia and Ben were always so obvious in their attempts to pretend like nothing was going on between them. It became a running joke in the house as to who would be the first to chase down an adrenaline high through sex.

It's cute and ridiculous, Rachel thinks. She envies them a little.

"Don't you ever shut up?" a gruff voice says suddenly, causing both Rachel and Joe to turn. Jason stands just on the other side of what's considered the living room, an open area filled with overstuffed couches facing each other, separated by a coffee table.

Rachel gives Jason a pointed look. "You already know the answer to that." She offers him her messenger bag and walks to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

Rainbow enters the spacious area from the other side at the same time -- probably taking a computer break, she surmises -- and Rachel gives him a smile, leaning in to place a friendly kiss on his cheek before opening the refrigerator.

Rainbow grins in return and leans against the marble counter that sits in the middle of the room. "Glad to be home?"

"Tired," Rachel says with a nod, watchful as Rainbow makes his way around the kitchen, quickly fixing himself a bowl of instant noodles. Rachel shakes her head in amusement. So much food in the house, and yet instant noodles are one of the few items they buy in bulk, and one of the few they have to replenish the most often.

The warehouse, as it's affectionately called by everyone, was once two lofts renovated into one, with enough space to house six people and all of the amenities and gadgets needed to run their operation. The arrangement works for now because they actually like each other, and it's not as if they lack space.

"Was it good?" Rainbow asks, always eager to hear stories about the job, but quite content to handle what he calls the "geek heavy" details behind the scenes.

Rachel comes up to him and lays her hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge. "You won't believe what we brought back with us."

Water bottle in hand, Rachel re-joins Jason and Joe, leaning against the steal I-beam separating the kitchen from the living room. Rainbow mirrors her stance on the other side of the beam a few seconds later, nodding a greeting at Joe as he slurps a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

She watches Jason sift through the contents of her bag before pulling out the satin pouch she'd placed inside. Rachel nods once, giving him approval to open the pouch and smiles at Jason's reaction.

"Holy shit. Diamonds?" he asks them.

Rainbow coughs on his food and rushes back into the kitchen, returning a moment later chugging on a bottle of water. He coughs a final time, his eyes watery when he speaks: "Went down the wrong way. I'm cool."

Jason eyes Rainbow before continuing, "I thought the job was to steal the Degas and keep moving?"

"Oh, we did," Joe interjects. "This is what I meant by presents."

"We didn't know about the diamonds when we took the painting," Rachel states quietly.

Jason turns his attention to Joe: "Wait, why didn't your guy tell us about this? Was he holding out?"

Joe nods, replying, "Seems like it. They were ah inside the frame."

"No shit," Jason says slowly, and it's actually pretty funny to Rachel to see him look anything but calm, as he's the one she least expected to react.

But then, one doesn't usually come across millions of dollars worth of diamonds by accident.

Joe retrieves the flattened, wide black case from beside the couch, exchanging the painting for the diamonds in Jason's possession, and Jason grabs the handle of the case with a smirk. Joe's often called him an art geek, and that's because he is. Even Rachel's teased him about it.

Jason studied art history in college and worked as an assistant curator for a few years before realizing that he could still admire all the great artwork before and during his lifetime, and make more money, by appropriating them through less than legal means.

Rachel stares at the three men before her, now all standing around murmuring excitedly about their new bounty, and she realizes at that moment that they could do this all day. In fact, she's seen them do exactly that, over a new game or a potential job. Nothing short of glee in their eyes, and watching them now seems to sap whatever energy she had left in reserve, leaving her exhausted. Rachel imagines falling instantly asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow and it's enough to put her feet into motion.

She clears her throat and three pairs of eyes look her way. "We can discuss how to handle this later. I need sleep." The last she says with a pointed look at Joe.

"Is that an invitation," Joe asks with a lazy smile. And the thing about it is, he's mostly joking. She's known him long enough to realize it.

(Normally she'd flirt back; she's learned that this back and forth with Joe is mostly harmless, especially after his more serious attempt to sleep with her had resulted in a very frank admission on Rachel's part.

She'd told him, "I love sex; I just prefer to have it with women." And Joe'd had the sense not to take it personally or see it as his mission to convert her.)

"Not tonight," she replies, bids all three goodnight and retreats to her own bedroom.

After watching her walk away, they stand in silence for a few seconds before Rainbow says to Joe, "You do know that she's a lesbian, right?"

Jason snickers.

"Shut up," Joe grumbles, adding, "Jason flirts with her all the time."

Jason's smile fades to a smirk. "Is that what you were doing?" He shrugs, says, "You can't do what we do."

Good-natured teasing continues to flow easily between them, and Rachel leans against the wall from where she'd stood listening to their conversation. She smiles, murmurs, "love you too, guys," and heads to her room.

* * *

The next day, Rachel, Jason and Joe leave the warehouse at the same time, though heading in very different directions. That morning, Jason had patted the sleek black case from yesterday, explaining that he would be meeting up with an art dealer contact to move the Degas painting underground, making it untraceable. Rachel doesn't need the details and they all trust Jason to do what he does best when handling all the art trades.

Joe is meeting his own contact: the client who essentially dropped a bag full of uncut diamonds into their laps. Rachel will think about gratitude later, after they've learned why he never mentioned them in the first place.

Rachel slides into the driver's side and cranks her car, reading over Joe's handwritten directions to Torri Higginson's antiques shop, just on the edge of downtown.

She's admittedly curious about this woman who's earned Joe's admiration and respect, not just personally but professionally. She wonders about any woman doing the work that they do, surrounded by many men who feel it their duty to make things more difficult for women, and who also feel their doubts must be assuaged in a manner of their choosing.

Sometimes, even with the solid presence and support of Claudia at her side -- not to mention the deep friendships she's developed with Jason, Joe, Rainbow and Ben -- she feels isolated.

After a twenty-minute drive, Rachel parallel parks in one of the vacant spaces in front of a small business district. The building is made of red brick and white columns. Wooden signs hang from chains connected to steel posts in front of each business. Rachel inserts a few quarters into the meter and crosses a gravel pathway to the storefront that says, The Memories You Keep Antiques. She quirks her lips at the title. Quaint.

Soft chimes announce her entrance through the door. Rachel looks around, sees a scattering of patrons who look her way before returning to whatever items had captured their interests. A short moment later, a woman approaches her with a smile on her face. She's pretty, Rachel notes, and tall enough that Rachel has to look up to meet her eyes. Which are green, just as Joe said they were. Rachel returns the woman's smile.

"Hello, welcome to The Memories You Keep. What brings you in today?"

"Thank you. I'm looking for the owner," Rachel says, pausing for effect, as if she doesn't already know her name. "Torri, I believe?"

The owner's smile fades a little, her eyes appraising, curious. "I'm Torri. What do you need?"

Rachel steps closer and lowers her voice. "I need to talk to you about selling a few items. We have a mutual acquaintance," she reveals. "Joe Flanigan."

The moment it dawns on Torri, when all the pieces have fallen into place, she smirks, reminding Rachel so much of Joe in that moment that it's nearly comical. With a nod, Torri gestures for Rachel to follow as she retreats to the back of the store. Rachel tries to keep pace with Torri's longer strides.

Torri stops by the counter to whisper something to her employee and points to the back before turning to Rachel. "This way," she says.

Torri takes her through a door with a sign that says, "Employees Only." The area opens into a small room with a makeshift office to one side and stacked boxes to another. Then, Rachel hears the jingle of keys as Torri unlocks a panel door and they walk inside.

The room is a little larger than the employee's area, but only just, with bright fluorescent lights overhead and a filing cabinet in the corner. What takes up the most space are the two wooden crates in sitting in the middle of the floor. Rachel eyes them curiously but follows Torri to the small desk near the filing cabinet, taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk.

"So," Torri sighs, "Who and what has Joe sent my way?"

Rachel is silent for a moment, wondering how best to answer, and opts for honesty. "My name is Rachel. Joe and I work together, and he gave me your name after one of our jobs turned up a very interesting find."

"Do tell."

"I have diamonds that I need to move. I was told you could help."

Torri nods. "I have clients who would be interested in such a trade, yes. Do you have them with you?"

"No," Rachel answers, "I thought it best to talk to you first." Shifting in her chair, she and Torri lean forward at the same time. "Can you tell me... how much does one usually get for selling diamonds?"

"It depends on a lot of factors, but the cut and size of the stone is usually an indicator of its worth." Torri watches her with interest, her gaze almost heavy to Rachel, and one she can't help but return. "Of course, I'd need to see them for myself to determine what value they have before contacting one of my clients with an offer."

Rachel breathes easily for the first time since their meeting began. "Of course," she agrees, holding the other woman's gaze for a short moment as she comes to a decision.

She feels as if she can trust Torri to broker a fair deal. It's all instinct really, and first impressions, but Rachel has a good feeling about this.

"Good," Torri gives Rachel a genuine smile. "When can I see the diamonds?"

"How's tomorrow, three o'clock?"

"Perfect."

Rachel plucks a card from her back pocket as she stands and quickly scribbles down an address before offering it to Torri. "Come to our warehouse. Press the buzzer and someone will allow you inside the building. Take the lift to the second floor," she instructs. It's an impulse decision to give Torri their home address. She only hopes her instincts are right.

Torri walks her back to the inside of the store and out the front entrance, pausing to shake Rachel's hand with a friendly smile. "I think we'll work well together."

"So do I," Rachel returns. Their eyes meet again, and to Rachel the moment feels longer than the last, before they allow their hands to slip free.

She thinks about that moment on the drive back to the warehouse, wonders if she imagined that brief connection. It's entirely possible, Rachel thinks, that what she's feeling is one-sided, and a direct result of simply needing to get laid. She almost laughs to herself, because it's mostly Claudia's voice she hears, and her friend isn't wrong in that regard.

Whatever the case may be, she still needs to pace herself and handle the business aspects first. She wants to get rid of those diamonds as soon as possible.

And after, maybe she and Torri can get to know each other better.

*

Torri stares down the street long after Rachel leaves, wondering what in the hell just happened to her.

She's never held herself to rules of propriety or boundaries when it comes to dating people she's worked with, save a few exceptions. Her relationship with Joe, for example, could be defined with one word: sex. Being with Joe was easy and uncomplicated. Her most recent friends-with-benefits arrangement ended much more messily, and on Torri's more uncharitable days she blames it on the woman with whom she was involved.

Intellectually, she knows it takes two people to fuck things up so royally. Lesson learned.

So, Torri possibly has her own hang-ups about relationships, her own set of lines she or anyone else is allowed to cross. And now she's almost embarrassed to admit that it's taken one meeting with Rachel for Torri's newly erected boundaries to become irrelevant.

She thinks back to how carefully Rachel behaved -- the distance, the lingering looks but strict adherence to the business at hand; the way Rachel held on to her hand at the end.

Truthfully, it was nothing more than a handshake, but they both held on as if they were soaking up each available moment before it was taken away.

Torri wants to grab hold of that moment with both hands to see where it leads them.

*

Rachel returns to the warehouse, hardly believing the utter quiet that welcomes her. Usually there's always someone at home. While she loves her friends, it's also nice to not have to bother with all of them at once.

She climbs the stairs and enters her bedroom. Changing into a tank top and sweat pants for lounging, she secures her hair back from her face with a headband, then starts for the kitchen in search of food. Rachel's studying the rows of canned and boxed foods in the cabinets when she hears a muffled thump from above. So much for being alone.

With a soft sigh, Rachel sets off upstairs again, following the faint beat of music to Jason's room. She knocks loudly on the half-opened door and lets herself inside, closing it all the way behind her. "Hey. Didn't realize anybody was home."

Jason sits at his wide desk on the far wall of his room in a pair of jeans, his feet and chest bare. His dreadlocks are pulled away from his face with a leather thong and fall neatly down his back. When he glances at her over his shoulder and tips his head in greeting, she notices the black framed glasses on his face. Rachel had always thought he was attractive in his glasses.

She comes further into his room, her own bare feet silent against the hardwood floors. "Where are the others?"

Jason spins his chair to face her as he answers. "No clue, and to be honest I don't care. It's nice and quiet in here."

"Like you won't be missing them in a few hours," Rachel chides him. Deciding to make herself comfortable, she sits in the plush, dark green armchair nearby, folding one leg beneath her as she sinks into the soft material.

"Well, I won't ever get a chance to find out, now will I?" he grumbles, but it's not mean-spirited.

It's not as if Rachel doesn't understand. She's sure they've all felt this way at one point or another. Well, except maybe Claudia and Ben. If possible, it seems like those two have been spending even more time with each other than usual. And Rachel knows for a fact that they've been sharing a room for the last month.

"Besides," Jason chuckles, "You'd know more than me. I wasn't the one who had Rainbow underfoot all the damn time when he first moved in."

Rachel narrows her eyes at him, remembering what an annoyance that was. "It was just a crush that he eventually outgrew, thankfully." She catches Jason's eyes. "What's your excuse?" she asks mischievously.

Jason barks out a short laugh and flips her off, and then they slip into a comfortable silence. Rachel is content to watch him work on his laptop for a while, the tapping of his fingers against the keyboard fading into white noise. Her relaxed state is interrupted when he murmurs without turning around, "How did the meeting go?"

"Well, I think. She's coming here tomorrow to take a look at the diamonds."

That catches Jason's attention, and he whips around in his chair, regarding her with scrutiny. "Here, as in our home?"

He would focus on that one detail, she thinks sardonically. "Yes," she answers. "But don't worry, she's cool people."

Jason sighs and leans forward in his chair, letting his hands fall into a grasp between his knees. "Just because Joe's fucked her doesn't mean she's good people."

"I know that," Rachel snaps. "I'm not a child, Jason. I can form opinions independently of what Joe or anybody else thinks."

Jason holds his hands out to stave further comment. "I just- this isn't like you at all."

Rachel scrubs one hand down her face and lets her head plop back against the chair. "I know," she groans. "I'm sorry, and I know. But I have a good feeling about this."

They hold a stare as the seconds tick by before Jason finally nods, standing from his seat to prop himself on the arm of Rachel's chair. Their right hands meet, fingers lacing together naturally. "Don't fuck us over, Rachel," Jason pleads in a half-joking manner, leaning his cheek on top of her head. A sharp elbow to his side startles him and he wheezes, "I trust you. I'll always trust you."

Rachel swallows her laughter at his quick change of heart. "Thanks," she whispers, still grateful for his friendship and relieved, despite his lack of tact. "Me too, you know that."

"Yeah." Jason clears his throat and leans back, draping his other arm across her shoulder. "So, what's she like? Must be something if you're inviting her over."

"I'll have you know that I'm a complete professional. I'm only interested in the job she can do for us."

Jason simply raises his eyebrows.

Rachel snickers, remembering Joe's words. "Okay! And she's exactly as Joe said."

"You should ask her out."

Rachel hesitates, wanting to share with Jason what she suspects happened earlier with Torri, but also wanting to keep that part to herself for now. Besides, she has other concerns; doubts that Jason, of all people, knows and doesn't require an explanation. "She's been with Joe, which makes it highly probable that she's straight."

Jason squeezes her fingers, mirth in voice when he says, "For all we know she could've lowered her standards that night."

Rachel giggles, "Jason, that's awful."

"And possibly true, you never know."

Rachel shrugs but says nothing.

"Rachel," he says gruffly. "You know I'm no good at this shit, but... you won't know the answer unless you ask." He waits for a gentle nod from Rachel before continuing, "I know you've got your reasons for being cautious. With Kandyse, that's a chance you take with relationships."

Jason slants a finger across Rachel's mouth when she begins to protest. "Things with Morena was just fucked up all around, but she knows not to show her face around any of us again."

Jason gives her an awkward half hug and they sit there in silence, Rachel going over his words in her mind. She knows he makes sense, and she loves him for it. Jason is possibly the only person out of their small group who could get far enough past her barriers to have this conversation. She just needs time, and thanks to Jason, she has plenty to think about.

"Thank you," she says softly.

Jason's response, though simple, is weighed with promise. "Me and you."

Rachel smiles.

* * *

The next day, Rachel sits in her room, attempting to not watch the clock while awaiting Torri's arrival. Her door is open, so she can hear footsteps drawing closer to her room.

Joe sticks his head in, brows raised in question, and Rachel waves him inside. "What's up?"

Joe hands her the pouch of diamonds. "Wanted to bring you these. How'd it go?"

"Good," she answers. "What'd you find out about the diamonds?"

"Oh, you won't believe this bastard," Joe says, rolling his eyes. "He had no intention of telling us. When he told me to make sure we left the frame behind, he had every intention of stealing the diamonds after we'd done the hard work for him."

"So, he used us?"

Joe nods. "Good and dirty. We were basically decoys."

"You know what surprises me? That he'd willingly tell you his plan." Rachel rises from her seat and meets Joe's eyes. "I know you?

Joe smirks. "What can I say? I'm good at what I do."

Shaking her head, Rachel says, "That word does not mean what you think it means."

Touching her shoulder, Joe continues, "I don't suppose it matters. Whatever else he had planned, if he had anything else planned, is useless without the diamonds." He drops his hands and shrugs. "I think we came to an agreement you'll think is fair."

"And what deal is that?"

"Split the diamonds evenly," Joe confesses with a sigh. "Both of our backs are against the wall, here. I don't see anybody turning anybody else in without implicating themselves."

Rachel thinks about this a minute and comes to the conclusion that he's right. She would've done the same thing in his shoes. "Maybe you are good," she says teasingly. "However, we're never working for him again."

"No arguments from me on that," Joe agrees, this time with a grin on his face. He looks happy, Rachel realizes, and for a moment she wonders at the reason before remembering that Torri would be arriving soon.

Maybe the former lovers would take this opportunity to reunite? Suddenly, she's feeling foolish for reading into that look yesterday, and for even entertaining the mere suggestion that Torri would be interested.

Rachel groans inwardly. Her interest in straight women must be stopped.

She turns her attention outward to find Joe staring at her, his mouth half turned up in amusement, his brow crinkled in curiosity. "What?" she wonders, barely managing to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

"You all right?"

Rachel licks her lips and looks away. "Sure."

"Uh huh," he says, sounding anything but convinced.

Rachel opens her mouth to respond when the buzzer sounds throughout the loft, announcing that someone is on their way up in the lift. "That's probably Torri," she declares, her gaze watchful on Joe's face. His expression remains unchanged, giving her no indication of his mood changing in any way at Torri's arrival.

Maybe her assumption had been wrong.

"I'll go and introduce her to the gang," Joe offers.

Rachel says with a smile, "Thanks. Let her know that I'll be right down."

Joe gives her an affirming smile and heads downstairs.

Rachel waits a few minutes, takes a deep breath as she grabs the pouch from her bed and leaves to join the others.

*

Torri is sort of in awe of it all, even though she could tell from the outside that the loft... no, the warehouse had to be immaculate on the inside. But once the attractive man lets her inside she can only gape and try not to look like an idiot.

She's not sure she's succeeding, if the amused look on his face is anything to go by.

"I'm Torri," she greets, holding out her hand after he slides the heavy door shut. He shakes her hand, his own warm and his grip surprisingly gentle, and introduces himself as Jason.

Torri has gone over every second of her brief meeting with Rachel, and his name is unfamiliar. She discovers now that they're standing face to face that he's not so much attractive as he is pretty; maybe even beautiful. And Torri would bet the salary she receives from her shop that he knows it.

How in hell does Rachel ever get anything done around here, she wonders.

She and Jason make small talk and soon they lapse into silence. A few minutes later, Joe bounds down the iron staircase and immediately gathers her up into a friendly hug, which she returns.

Torri's glad to see Joe, truly, because before they were lovers they were acquaintances that occasionally exchanged business. For a short while they were friends, but she never entertained the thought that she'd be anything else to Joe, or vice versa. This seemed to be one of the few aspects of their short-lived relationship that they were in total agreement upon.

"How you been?" he asks, pressing his cheek into her hair.

"I'm well," she says when they separate. She looks him up and down, approval in her voice when she responds, "You look good, Joe. Shady dealings obviously agrees with you."

"I think it's the perks that come from those dealings more than anything else," he says with a grin. "Rach is in the bedroom but she'll be down in a minute. Did you meet Jason?"

Torri nods and glances at Jason before turning her eyes toward the stairs, her brow furrowing in disappointment. She recalls that moment just outside her shop; thinks that perhaps she'd gotten her signals crossed, and maybe she hadn't read interest in Rachel's eyes. An interest Torri fully returns.

Because if she's hearing Joe's words correctly, then he and Rachel are together, and Torri fervently hopes this is not the case.

Swallowing her disappointment, Torri offers Joe a small smile when he excuses himself to round up the others for her to meet.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, don't," Jason's low voice breaks the silence.

Torri's gaze snaps up at Jason, "What are you-"

Before she can complete her sentence, Rachel walks down the stairs, a dark pouch in one hand, and with a bright smile curving her lips. "Torri," she says, "It's good to see you again."

Torri murmurs Rachel's name under her breath, to simply have the pleasure of saying it. As Rachel draws closer, Torri says her name louder, and she's sure there's a matching smile on her face as they shake hands.

This is it, Torri thinks. Here's the perfect opportunity for her to find out if that moment from yesterday was just a figment of her imagination. Rachel's hand is warm in hers and fits perfectly. They bring their joined hands down between them, neither letting go.

Behind her, Jason clears his throat as Torri quietly observes Rachel's reaction. It's pretty damn funny, the way her eyes widen as she peers over Torri's shoulder to see Jason sitting on the couch, a knowing look on his face. But, Rachel's eyes flit back to Torri and she smiles, almost shyly, giving Torri's hand a gentle squeeze before slipping away.

Rachel puts distance between them by moving to sit next to Jason, and if it weren't for the fact that she seems reluctant to do so, Torri would be mildly offended. As it is, she can barely keep from grinning.

They're making small talk when Joe reappears a few minutes later, guiding a young man from behind by the shoulders who jokingly tries to pull away from Joe's hold. She discovers his name is Rainbow, and if he looks boyishly handsome it's because he's only 20 years old.

"I'm responsible for the latest in spy gear that keeps them out of trouble," he says with a jovial point in the others' direction.

Joes pats Rainbow on the back. "We're spies now? Since when?"

"We keep him around because he makes cool shit like pin lapels that double as scramblers," Jason responds, laying his arm on the back of the couch with a lazy smile. "You remember the Dakota incident," he states, and everyone else laughs.

Torri smiles questioningly and Rachel comes to her rescue, explaining, "Dakota is an art gallery through which we acquired a few lovely paintings and Rainbow's clever pins scrambled the silent alarm. Otherwise we probably would've had entire police squads from the tri-state area all over us within minutes."

Giving Jason a playful nudge, she continues, "And he's the only one who can kick your butt on Xbox," pointedly ignoring Jason's mock outrage.

"Thanks Rachel," Rainbow says and Rachel winks in return.

"Hey," Joe interjects, "where are Claudia and Ben?"

"Said they'd be out for a while," Rainbow says, "and we can fill them in when they get back."

Before Torri can voice the question of who Claudia and Ben are, Jason supplies the answer: "They're the rest of the crew. You'll meet them, eventually."

Torri nods, saying, "I should probably get to work," prompting Rachel to hand over a small black bag, filled with diamonds, Torri presumes.

Jason, Joe and Rainbow make themselves scarce but Rachel remains, shifting over on the couch to make room for Torri to sit. Torri takes her seat with a quietly spoken thank you, pulls out her kit and gets to work.

*

Later, Torri's bowed head finally raises, one brow arching at discovering the small crowd gathered around, waiting for her final results. She sets about packing her kit away with measured movements, placing her small microscope and diamond scale into the slots of the specially made case. She's certain her estimate is as close to accuracy as she can get, but she'll feel better once she's taken the gems back to her shop, locked herself in her lab and examined them extensively.

Rachel, having moved from her position beside Torri on the couch, now stands beside an unfamiliar woman as they talk quietly, who Torri assumes is Claudia. She also concludes that the other unknown man standing between Jason and Rainbow must be Ben. Joe interrupts the mostly preoccupied group by crunching into an apple, and Torri takes that moment to speak, finally, after nearly two hours of silence.

"I'd estimate these diamonds to be worth seven million eight if I could examine one of them more closely."

The looks on their faces, Torri decides, are priceless, and a memory she won't be forgetting anytime soon.

Claudia steps forward, wearing a wide smile on her face, "Sweetheart, you've made us richer and managed to shut them up at the same time," she says, hooking her thumb at the men behind her.

"That means she likes you," Rachel comments, sharing an amused glance with the women.

Claudia makes a chiding noise. "It might be love. Please tell me you also date women," she says to Torri.

Rachel lets out a bark of awkward laughter while Claudia looks completely unashamed. Torri ducks her head for a moment, feeling her face flush at the bold statement. She looks up in time to see the furtive glances cast her way by not only Rachel but Jason of all people. Huh.

Making a mental note to come back to that detail later, she answers Claudia's question with a clear-voiced, "Yes, I do; prefer it, actually."

And if everyone in the room notices that Torri is staring directly at Rachel as she gives her answer, they're not obvious about it; though some of them are more successful at it than others.

Rachel's reaction is completely transparent, and it gives Torri some much needed confidence to pursue the other woman like she's wanted since first meeting her.

*

Torri steps through the doorway first with a parting wave and Rachel follows soon after, turning to look at her friends -- and she uses that term loosely. She rolls her eyes at seeing them standing in a tight group, waving enthusiastically with big grins on their faces, and Rachel just wants to tell them all to shove it. Jason gives her the thumbs up sign and she slides the door shut with more force than necessary. Assholes.

"Thanks for coming by," she says, choosing to ignore Torri's questioning look.

Torri shrugs. "No problem. I should thank you for the business. I'm going to have interested buyers a mile long lining up for your diamonds," she says around a smile.

They enter the lift and ride down in silence, Rachel gesturing with a hand for Torri to precede her once they arrive on the lower level and step outside the building.

A gentle breeze whips a few loose strands of Rachel's hair against her nape and she shivers a little, though she's not really cold. Rachel sends Torri furtive looks as they walk to Torri's car in the parking lot, raising her hand ever so often to shade her eyes from the setting sun. It seems important somehow, that she find the right words to say to Torri that will take them to the next step, from cautiously talking around the attraction they feel for one another, to doing something about it.

They come upon Torri's car far too soon, and she turns to face Rachel, leaning against the driver side door, like she's not in any hurry to leave. "So," she begins.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel decides to take the plunge. "Listen, about what you said earlier, to Claudia. I-"

"Can I take you to dinner? Sometime soon?" Torri asks quickly, her skin flushing in a way Rachel would find adorable if she wasn't so shocked by Torri beating her to the punch.

Rachel breathes out, "Sometime?" and hesitates for one second before, "yes, I'd love to," rushes out.

(She'll recall later that it says something about her, and about Torri and her judgment of Rachel, that they're both very careful to avoid making specific plans until the diamond exchange is behind them.)

That was anti-climactic, Rachel thinks. She'd worked herself up thinking of all the ways this moment could go wrong, of the different ways Torri could voice her rejection, that Rachel never allowed herself to consider that Torri would want this as badly as she does. When Torri takes her hand, gives it a gentle squeeze but doesn't let go, Rachel thinks that maybe Torri has wanted this more.

"Wow," Torri laughs nervously, glancing down at their joined hands before meeting Rachel's eyes again. "That was? she trails off.

"Not as scary as you thought it'd be?" Rachel offers.

Torri nods once, her eyes bright. "Something like that."

"I was thinking anti-climactic."

Torri exclaims, "Yes," and gives Rachel's fingers another gentle squeeze. "I like that better."

Rachel runs her free hand over her messy bun, tucking her curly hair behind her ear as another breeze comes through. She takes a step forward when Torri tugs on her hand, leading her a few short steps until there? very little space between them, and Rachel is standing between Torri's out-stretched legs.

Rachel contemplates how easily they've shifted into each other's space, so casual and intimate as if they've danced around each other for months or years rather than days. A quiet voice warns her that this is happening too quickly, immediately reminding her of the last relationship she'd jumped into without thinking.

But Rachel finds it even more difficult to think rationally with the look of adoration of Torri's face, and how her eyes keep slipping down to Rachel? mouth. So very tempting.

"Is this date hypothetical or did you have a specific day in mind?" Rachel asks instead, clearing her throat as she looks away into the distance.

She looks back in time to see Torri's mouth quirk with a smile. "Are you free on Friday?" Rachel nods. "I want to take you to my favorite restaurant. It's nothing fancy, but they have great food. I think you'll like it," she says.

"Sounds perfect," Rachel murmurs.

Torri hums in approval. "Can you meet me at the shop around seven? It's only a couple of blocks from there, if you don't mind walking."

Rachel nods, anticipating their date already. And, she wants to laugh at using the word 'date', even to herself, because it's been so long since she's felt anything like this that she's almost afraid to expect something from Torri.

That realization brings her up short, and Rachel unconsciously takes a step back. An unreadable expression crosses Torri's face, and then she nods, almost to herself, as if reaching a decision.

Torri loosens her hold on Rachel's hand and their fingers slowly separate. "I should go," she says lowly.

Rachel hesitates. She was reluctant to move past the simple contact of holding Torri? hand, but she finds that she's not ready to say goodbye yet. However, their date is only four days away, and Rachel admits that she probably needs the distance. "Yes, you probably should," she agrees in a similar tone.

Stepping back, Rachel crosses her arms over her chest, watching as Torri slides behind the steering wheel and buckles her seat belt. Torri waves goodbye and shifts into drive, and a few moments later Rachel sees her merge into traffic.

Rachel looks on until Torri's car is lost in a sea of lights, thinking Friday can't come soon enough.

* * *

Thursday afternoon, Rachel returns to the warehouse from running errands to find Joe pacing the living room, his cell phone connected to his ear as Jason and Claudia look on in amusement.

"Thank god you're back," Claudia murmurs when Rachel points in Joe's direction with a questioning gaze. "That's your girlfriend he's talking to. Apparently we're going to be seven and a half million dollars richer by the end of this phone call."

"Oh," Rachel says quietly. She takes a seat between Claudia and Jason on the couch. "And she's not my girlfriend," she adds on absently.

Jason leans in to Rachel, whispers, "Liar," in her ear.

Smacking his arm, Rachel makes a shushing noise and tries to ignore him, though she can't help the tiny grin from surfacing on her face.

While Rachel didn't lie, her relationship with Torri isn't a static thing, either. They've talked on the phone nearly every day this week, and when they're not on the phone, they communicate via text and e-mail.

That anticipation she'd felt just days before, the same she'd felt the need to quell somehow before it got out of control, has been steadily growing. Except this time, Rachel has no desire to stop it.

The night before, they'd spent hours on the phone discussing everything from stories of their childhood to the mundane details of their favorite foods. Rachel learned that Torri wanted to be an actress when she was a teenager, and Torri discovered that Rachel loves to sing. They'd ended that particular conversation joking about karaoke.

It still terrifies Rachel that little by little she's cobbling something together with Torri, though she's not in any hurry to define what that something is. For the first time in years, Rachel finds herself looking forward to talking to someone and being in the company of a person who happens to fall outside her small circle of friends.

But more importantly, Rachel feels like she's closer to that edge than she's been in a long time, except it seems less like a cliff she's about to fall over and more like a mountain she needs to descend. That she feels comfortable enough to entertain not so innocent thoughts about Torri, and the desire to follow through on those same thoughts and more than a few others, indicates to Rachel that she's ready. Maybe.

Torri all but admitting to having similar desires reassures Rachel, making it clear that they're just biding their time until the inevitable. Until neither can hold back and they both meet the rush head on.

*

When Friday arrives, Torri has to stop herself from looking at the shop's entrance every time a customer walks inside. Her assistant finds this amusing once Torri admits that she has a date after work. She finds herself self-consciously smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in her blouse and down the sides of her slacks. A date, with a beautiful thief. That particular detail Torri keeps to herself.

Not that she has much room -- or any really -- to judge. Her antiques shop is legit, but it's a decoy nonetheless. The black market, however, is in her blood, no matter how often she's wanted to distance herself from it, and her family as the cause of it, over the years. It's something she's always come back to, and as she's gotten older she's found that she enjoys it.

It's taken time, but Torri loves her job and her legacy, and she can't help but think that there's a reason she met Rachel when she did; that how they met really explains everything. And it's a relief to Torri, to not have to lie about her job or meeting this client or that one. She can be honest with Rachel, state plainly that she has to call her back because a painting just arrived and needs to be fenced right away.

The door opens again but this time Torri is so deep in thought it doesn't register. Her assistant bumps against her shoulder and Torri looks up, a smile immediately blooming on her face as Rachel heads in her direction.

She's beautiful, but Torri's thought that since first meeting Rachel. Today, she's even more beautiful in a black skirt and blue blouse, and her attention is focused solely on Torri, who tries not to shift under the weight of her gaze. Torri hopes they'll have more opportunities like this, where she feels like she's reliving that first moment she realized another woman could make her feel like this, and how she wants to capture this feeling and hide it for safe keeping.

Ignoring the curious look on her employee's face, Torri comes from around the counter to meet Rachel halfway, impulsively leaning forward to brush a kiss against Rachel's cheek. "I'm glad you're here," she tells her.

"Me too," Rachel says, and casually takes Torri's hand, twining their fingers as if this is some natural occurrence, and Torri feels warm all over at the thought. "Ready to go?"

"Mhmm." After briefly speaking with her assistant, Torri returns to Rachel's side and clasps their hands together before leading them outside the shop. She makes every effort not to look back, but when Rachel squeezes her fingers, Torri finds it hard to breathe. If she were a romance novel heroine, she'd be swooning right about now.

As it is, she doesn't want to let go of Rachel's hand, so she doesn't. Torri keeps her grip loose and as casual as she can under the circumstances. As they begin the walk to the restaurant two blocks away, Torri notices her palm is damp, but she can conveniently blame that on the warm weather.

What Torri won't blame it on, for example, is Rachel moving in closer until their arms brush as they walk.

*

They make it through a delicious dinner with light conversation and Rachel's hilarious stories about her friends. The restaurant's low lighting makes their dinner a much more romantic occasion than it is, but Torri doesn't mind, and she suspects Rachel doesn't either. As their empty dishes are taken away, they both decline dessert, opting for coffee instead.

"What are your plans for the weekend?" Torri asks as she sips her coffee.

Rachel shrugs. "I'm not sure. I have nothing planned," she replies with a meaningful stare.

Mouth suddenly dry, Torri takes a big gulp of her drink and looks away.

*

Her mouth is soft and warm, tasting of cinnamon flavored coffee.

Torri had really tried to keep her distance. On the walk back from the restaurant, they spoke very little, both content with their connection through mere touch, a simple brushing of their arms as they stepped in sync (Torri had to take shorter steps due to her height over Rachel, but she did so without thought).

Once they reached Rachel's car, Torri had taken Rachel's hand, once again marveling at how natural it seemed, at how well their hands fit together. "Thank you for coming out tonight," Torri remembers saying, and they both laughed, if a bit self-consciously when Rachel responded with, "Maybe we should do this again sometime," as if a second (and third and fourth and infinite) date was a forgone conclusion.

Torri likes the thought of it, that they're drawn towards one another, and so of course they will see each other again.

And then, Torri doesn't remember thinking much of anything else besides wanting to kiss Rachel, and the only sure way of making that a reality was to simply do it.

So she did.

Torri is pulled back into the present when Rachel settles her hands upon her hips, her fingers digging into the material of Torri's pants, shifting her hips forward until she's rubbing against Rachel. Torri takes that opportunity to deepen the kiss, temper it with slow strokes of her tongue until she feels a breathy moan escape Rachel's mouth.

When Torri finally pulls back, she notices Rachel's mouth, a little wet from her kisses, her lips smudged with color. Torri imagines her mouth looks the same and licks her lips without thinking. At some point, Torri had backed Rachel up until they were leaning against the back door, and now her hands are braced on either side of Rachel's shoulders, flat on the window.

She takes a deep breath as a light breeze ruffles her hair, deeply satisfied that Rachel appears to be as affected by their kiss as she is. That observation solidifies a thought, and so Torri bites her lip and asks, "Follow me in your car?", hoping Rachel won't turn down her invitation.

Rachel's hands tighten briefly on Torri's hips before she releases her hold. Even though Torri can see the uncertainty in her eyes, Rachel's voice is clear and steady as she answers with a quiet, "Yes."

Torri returns Rachel's stare for a long moment before turning away and heading for her car.

She keeps the memory of Rachel's mouth pressed hard against hers, her tongue warm and wet and making her feel unspeakable things all over, at the forefront of her mind during the drive to her apartment.

It feels like the longest 15 minute commute ever.

*

To look at Rachel, Torri never would've guessed her to be a talker.

It's a pleasant but unexpected surprise to discover, not 20 minutes once they've crossed the entrance and Torri has locked them inside. The apartment is dark and they manage to feel their way into the short hallway leading into the living room. But it's Rachel who stops them short, turning Torri until they're pressed against one another, and covering her mouth in a hurried kiss.

Torri's surprised gasp turns into a moan as Rachel's hands are everywhere, exactly where Torri needs them to be, sometimes before she can even voice it.

And then the talking begins; soft murmurs and heated whispers against her skin, Rachel's beautiful mouth wrapping around dirty words that Torri wants to put into action right now, if only she can find the energy to pull back, to pry her lips away to breathe and tell Rachel she wants to experience all of these things, just not standing in the hallway of her apartment.

Torri manages to break the kiss and whisper, "couch," against Rachel's wet mouth, to which the other woman complies with a jerky nod.

Grabbing Rachel's hand, Torri guides her through the dark, navigating past her favorite overstuffed chair and to her equally comfortable couch, where she falls into the cushions on her back. Torri grins even though she figures Rachel can't see it, and pulls her blouse over her head, shivering a little as the air in the open room tickles her bare skin.

She can just make out Rachel's figure slipping out of her shoes, then bunching her skirt around her waist as she climbs on the couch to straddle Torri's lap. And though Torri wishes she could see Rachel's actions under a light -- to watch that glow play on the curves of her arms, see her bare legs and maybe what color her panties are underneath -- it ultimately doesn't matter because Rachel's display is still one of the sexiest things ever in Torri's recent memory.

Her hands immediately settle on Rachel's hips, her fingers slipping under the waistband of her skirt to feel warm skin. Rachel leans down and slants her mouth across Torri's, her lips parting and her tongue sweeping inside Torri's mouth, kissing her hard until Torri thinks she might be bruised.

Rachel mouths kisses down Torri's jaw and her neck, her voice low and husky as she says, "I've been thinking about this for days," and Torri can only moan because any response she can work out of her mouth at this point would be inadequate.

Instead, Torri focuses on setting her mouth on whatever part of Rachel's skin she can reach; touching the curve of a shoulder, brushing her mouth against soft, fragrant hair, catching her lips on Rachel's ear as she whispers hotly, "I want you, just like this."

Rachel answers by grinding her hips into Torri's and cupping Torri's breasts through her bra with both hands. Torri lets her head fall back against the couch, exhaling a long sigh as Rachel replaces her hands with her mouth to press firm kisses against her chest.

"Wait," Torri gasps, the interruption surprising them both. Rachel shifts back, her skirt trailing across the bare skin of Torri's belly. Torri sucks in a shallow breath and pushes herself up, her fingers following Rachel closely to grip the other woman's thighs. "I just meant," Torri begins, "that I want to- to get closer to you."

Rachel crinkles her brow in question. Her skin is heated and eyes bright and she licks her lips but remains silent. Licks the taste of Torri clean from her mouth.

"C'mere," Torri murmurs and chases Rachel until their lips are locked and the other woman's mouth is open to her again. She grins as she wraps one arm around Rachel's waist, causing her to giggle into the kiss as Torri pulls her closer.

Torri lazily plays with Rachel's mouth as she slips her hand between their bodies to tuck beneath Rachel's skirt. Torri's fingers outline the edge of her underwear, dragging her knuckles down the center when Rachel pulls back, her soft breath ghosting against her lips.

She's so close to touching her bare, feeling Rachel's wet warmth against her fingers that she loses what patience she's managed to hold onto and stretches the cotton material aside until she's finally touching warm flesh at the juncture of Rachel's thighs. Their mouths touch briefly as Rachel murmurs sotto voce, "That's it, come closer," and Torri blinks heavy eyes as she realizes just how much Rachel is getting off on this. She teases her cunt with barely-there touches, slipping her thumb between her wet lips to lie gently against her clit and holds it there.

And god, the restraint she has to hold to keep from fucking Rachel with her fingers weighs heavy on her, coaxing tiny shivers from her arms as if a cold wind has suddenly swept through.

Rachel's breath is even and slow, warm as she presses her cheek against Torri's and strokes her fingers through Torri's hair, messy from tumbling on the couch. They sink into the quiet, Rachel's lower body rocking slightly into Torri's teasing fingers.

Torri wants to see Rachel come; wants to whisper these words to her and later feel Rachel shift and moan through an orgasm, swallow it down with a hungry kiss. She wants to learn Rachel's body and how it curves and tightens when she's aroused. What Rachel tastes like she's ready to come, or during, or after, and catalogue the signs so that she knows what to look for next time.

Torri wants to do all of this and more tonight, and just as she opens her mouth, mumbles Rachel's name against her cheek, she's jerked abruptly out of the moment by her cell phone ringing.

She recognizes the ring tone and sighs in disappointment. Reality encroaching on their time together, and she can't ignore the call. It's business, the entire reason she and Rachel met in the first place.

"I have to get that," she says and gives Rachel a playful pat on her hip. They carefully disentangle from their tight embrace and Torri rises from the couch and turns on the nearest lamp, completely unselfconscious with the light upon them. Hurrying over to her purse, Torri snatches it up by the fourth ring and answers, "This is Torri."

And as she listens to her caller on the other end, she's resigned to the fact that her date with Rachel is officially over.

*

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Torri says as they leave her apartment together.

Rachel nods, not sure if there's anything to say or how she feels about the interruption. She's certain that had Torri's phone not rang, she would've let the other woman spread her legs open on that couch and fucked her with those talented and slender fingers until Rachel came over her hand. And Rachel probably would've begged for it.

She's more than a little embarrassed of how easily she lost control, and how eager she was to relinquish it to Torri. She hasn't reacted that way in a long time, probably not since Kandyse.

Rachel can tell the difference now, between the love she felt for Kandyse, and the dirty lust she felt for Morena. Even more so now that she has something of which to compare. And though she's tried to deny it, fought it with every ounce of strength within her, she knows she can't simply dismiss her growing attachment to Torri.

It's more than just attraction. It's affection and curiosity and good old fashioned lust. And it's something that Rachel feels unequipped to handle, to even acknowledge at this point, and would rather take the easy way out for now.

So, when Torri presses apologetic kisses to her mouth, Rachel puts herself back together with disappointment on her face, yet relieved inwardly at the reprieve the abrupt end to their date allows her. She has a lot of thinking to do, and she can't do it when she's surrounded by Torri -- from scent to touch to taste.

They walk to her car in silence, their hands gravitating toward each other without being aware of doing so. Rachel can only describe their last kiss of the night as sweet, and she just wants to sink into it and follow wherever Torri chooses to lead. Nothing good can come of this, she chides herself.

Torri says, "I'll call you tomorrow, if that's all right?"

Rachel knows she should probably tell her to wait, that she'll do the calling instead, and set about avoiding the other woman and her wide smile and beautiful laugh and talented fingers, but what comes out of her mouth instead is, "I look forward to it."

Rachel never says anything she doesn't mean, and Torri's smile is so open and hopeful, and more than anything else, believing of Rachel's words.

As the saying goes, this can only end in tears, Rachel reflects wryly.

As she drives back to the warehouse, the words are a mantra in her head; and yet, she can't stop smiling. Maybe she's a little hopeful too.

* * *

Saturday morning, Torri wakes up with one hand between her legs and a smile on her face.

The positioning of her hand isn't new, but Torri's not a morning person, and hasn't been since elementary school. It usually requires two cups of coffee before she considers herself capable of human interaction. Before coffee, it was cigarettes, but she thinks she's made an even trade in that regard.

This morning, however, she doesn't need a shot of caffeine, though falling asleep thinking about Rachel and fucking her own fingers clearly helped.

She glances over at the clock on her nightstand. It's still early enough that she can catch a couple more hours of sleep, but she's too wired to settle back down. She wants to pick up the phone and call Rachel, just to hear her voice, and maybe to make sure that there are no regrets on either side.

Before Torri realizes what she's doing, her hand is already reaching for her cell phone, scrolling through her address book to find the latest entry: Rachel Luttrell.

She snaps the phone shut slowly. It's possible she's freaking out a little about this, about her sudden feelings for Rachel, which really don't feel sudden at all. It feels organic, as if Rachel is slotting into an empty space in her life -- a space Torri is only now realizing existed.

And now, there's no way she can sit still. Running her fingers through her massive case of bed hair, she stands from the bed, stretching her arms, her body stiff from sleep. Vowing not to call Rachel until at least noon, she decides to at least get a start on her day by taking a shower and fixing breakfast. She needs to keep busy.

Today is going to be a great day, Torri decides.

*

Rachel is lost in thought, staring at her cell phone blankly when Rainbow pushes back from his computer with a frustrated growl. "We are fucked."

Setting the phone to the side and out of immediate reach, she turns her attention to her friend. "Language, Rainbow," she teases. Rachel presses her back against the recliner in Rainbow's room and stretches out her legs under his sturdy coffee table. She'd claimed this spot on Rainbow's floor hours ago, after Jason had handed her a stack of print-outs detailing the layout of the vaults at the Krupp Diamond Center -- one of the most renowned private jewelry markets in the United States -- including a client roster.

Rachel had sighed as she'd watched Jason's retreating back, realizing there was no way he'd obtained the information legally. Then she'd laughed at herself, because she stole things for a living so she had no moral high ground.

Rainbow smiles ruefully. "Would it be better if I said, 'this job has bent us over and we're taking it not so gently from behind'?"

Shaking her head, Rachel says, "You've been spending too much time with Jason."

Rainbow doesn't deny it, just crosses his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face. "Doesn't change the fact that it's true."

Realizing that he's serious, Rachel scoots her legs from under the table and stands, coming over to stand behind Rainbow as she stares at his computer screen. "What's going on?"

Rainbow points at his monitor. "Krupp's security system is more complicated than I thought." He rubs one hand down his face before typing frantically on his keyboard. "This would be enough to make a professional hacker cream his pants." He chuckles when Rachel says his name sternly. "But, I- Rach, I might not be able to break into the mainframe in time."

Rachel lays her hands on his shoulders and leans forward, as if she'd gain clarity by having a closer look.

"You have no idea what you're looking at, do you?"

Rachel catches Rainbow's grinning face out the corner of her eye and bites her lip to keep from smiling. His question wasn't worth responding to since they both knew she had no clue what it all meant. Instead, she sighs and says, "Well, if you can't do it in time then we are fucked."

"This is what I'm saying," Rainbow retorts.

Taking a step back and out of his personal space, Rachel gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Just do the best you can, Rainbow. That's why we have a plan B."

"And a plan C and D and sometimes E," Rainbow says, counting them off on his fingers.

Rachel spins around, pointing her finger at him with a smile. "Hey, don't forget, plan E is what saved your butt from being arrested last summer."

"I'm not knocking it," Rainbow exclaims, looking back and forth from his computer to Rachel.

"Good," she replies with a smile.

He types something quickly then stands and stretches his back. "I need food. Want me to bring you anything back from the kitchen?"

"Popcorn and water," she answers absently, her attention once again focused on the stack of papers in front of her. She mumbles, "Thank you," when Rainbow returns a few minutes later with her food, and they fall back into the comfortable silence they'd previously held, concentrating on their separate projects.

*

Thumb hovering over the menu button that will take her to her inbox, Rachel hesitates, then presses the button before she loses her nerve. She'd purposely avoided answering her phone for the past two days, and no amount of flashing lights denoting missed calls and unread messages, or baleful looks from Jason had convinced her to check it.

It's not that she intended to screen her calls, or more to the point, screen calls from Torri. She'd had every intention of returning Torri's initial call on Saturday, but Jason and Joe had come to her with details for their next job and Torri's call had been forgotten.

And now, Rachel wonders if she can contact Torri on an early Monday afternoon with an excuse of having been too busy the entire weekend to return her call.

Rachel frowns at her phone. Probably not, considering part of her motivation had been to avoid Torri and in turn, avoid her own conflicting feelings.

She can hear Claudia's accented voice so clearly in her head right now, mockingly telling her that she has issues that need to be screwed to rights. And not for the first time, Rachel is reminded of how similar Claudia and Joe are to each other; that they truly can relate everything to sex.

While everyone else had shuffled around each other researching for the next job, Rachel had felt Jason's watchful gaze more than once as she allowed each call to go to voicemail. He'd even picked up her phone once, after Torri had sent her a text message, and rolled his eyes as he, presumably, realized what was going on.

She's also missed calls from her sisters, but Rachel isn't left with an unsettling feeling that she's possibly ruined something before it could fully start when it comes to her siblings. They're family, they have to forgive her.

Torri, not so much. But Rachel's had time to think, and she's decided that she wants Torri to be in her life, to represent something that's been missing for a long while. She just has to gather the courage needed to return her call.

*

On the drive over, Rachel curses Jason, and Claudia and Rainbow for encouraging him, but mostly she curses herself for not doing this sooner. Torri deserves an explanation in person, and she's going to get one.

Taking a deep breath, she runs damp hands down her rumpled t-shirt and jeans -- the first items of clothing she found once she'd made the decision to seek out Torri and stop running. Telling herself it's now or never, Rachel licks dry lips and presses down on the doorbell.

*

Torri is just pouring herself a glass of wine when the doorbell rings. She takes a small sip before placing the wineglass down on her coffee table and walking to the door. A quick glimpse through the peephole informs her of her late night visitor.

Rachel.

Torri steps back, surprised at the other woman's presence when she'd thought Rachel's silence over the past few days had made things perfectly clear of where they stand. Nowhere, and Torri ultimately means nothing.

In the short time they've known each other, Torri had fallen for Rachel and she'd fallen hard; recklessly and with no regrets, and apparently alone in feeling this way.

But here Rachel stands, just outside her door, and Torri is at a lost as to what it all means. And yeah, she'll also never find out if she pretends she's not at home, if she shuts Rachel out the way she was shut out over the weekend.

Torri opens the door.

Rachel looks like she didn't expect Torri to answer, and for some reason Torri finds that amusing. Torri slides her gaze from Rachel's wrinkled t-shirt and tight jeans to her curly hair, lush and wind-blown and pulled back with a simple headband. Rachel stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, biting her bottom lip nervously.

Torri knows exactly how she feels. She holds her door open silently, allows Rachel into the small foyer but not much further before she speaks. "What are you doing here?"

Rachel seems relieved to Torri, maybe even grateful for Torri's blunt manner. "May I talk to you?"

"Sure," Torri murmurs, leading them into her living room. She immediately grabs her neglected glass of wine and takes a comforting swallow. "Would you like some?"

Rachel shakes her head and meets Torri's eyes for one long second before looking away. It makes Torri feel as if they're on an equal footing to see Rachel shift nervously, gathering her courage, it seems. Trying to find the right words.

Rachel steps forward, close enough that Torri can see the clear brown of her eyes, just short of crossing into Torri's personal space. "I'm sorry for not calling you back or answering," she says quietly. "I've had a lot on my mind, and Jason got everyone excited about this new job stealing more diamonds, and... It's not an excuse, I know, but I was also confused, about you and me and my feelings for you that-"

Rachel's rambling -- so uncharacteristic it's endearing -- is cut short by Torri's slender finger lying over her lips.

Torri wants to ask about this new job involving diamonds, because the sheer need and want and affection she's developed for Rachel now makes room for worry, lodged in her belly. But she pushes it aside. There's another more pressing concern, and she needs an answer right now.

"Are you sorry to be here right now?" Torri asks, her voice sounding thick to her own ears.

"No," Rachel breathes. This time she steps into Torri's space, holds Torri's face in her hands and kisses her, frantic and heavy and refusing to hold anything back. There's no restraint in the way Rachel wraps herself around Torri, stroking Torri's mouth with her tongue. Like Rachel is finally giving in to what she wants, and Torri doesn't have it in her to refuse Rachel anything.

"I need to say something," Rachel gasps when Torri finally releases her mouth. "I don't want to walk away from you, from this, but I need you to be patient with me."

And to Torri, Rachel doesn't need to explain anything further. She can tell from the look in her eyes that there's old hurt lurking. And despite that ghost pain, maybe even in spite of it, Rachel is here with her now. She chose Torri, and Torri feels that decision settling on her skin and in her bones like it belongs there. Like Rachel belongs there.

Torri leans her forehead gently against Rachel's, their warm breath mingling as she whispers, "I won't hurt you," she tells her. "And I trust you not to hurt me."

Because, what she's feeling right now with this woman has the potential to hurt like hell. But right now, it feels so damn good, so right, that there's never been any other choice for Torri to make. Of course it's Rachel.

"No," Rachel says in agreement and slants her mouth against Torri's in a short, hard kiss.

Torri lays her palm against Rachel's cheek for a moment before lacing their free hands together and tugging Rachel back to her bedroom.

Rachel tightens her grip and doesn't let go.

*

Wet suction on her nipples, hot breath against her skin, soft hair tickling her fingertips.

Nimble fingers between her thighs, parting her lips, thumb against her clit.

Rachel feels it, the Oh, God being dragged from inside, then snatched back just as quickly when she exhales Torri's name. Slender fingers enter her wet cunt, fucks her slowly until more words come spilling out.

Torri's hands are everywhere at once. Torri is everywhere; her wet mouth, warm on her neck and trailing down to her collarbone. Fingers plucking an invisible chord against her shoulders; blunt nails scratching gently down her arms to pick back up at her hips.

And then Rachel is bowing, curving into Torri's head between her legs. Torri's tongue is flat against her, cool now, when her mouth was like a furnace before. Rachel vaguely remembers water next to the bed, and lube and a clock at a moment where time means nothing. Just Torri's cool mouth, creating friction, covering her pretty lips over Rachel's clit and sucking unhurriedly, until Rachel clings tightly to the strands of Torri's hair and pulls.

When Rachel comes, her entire body shudders and her thighs clamp, until it feels like holding Torri tight until neither can breathe is the best idea she's ever had.

The best idea comes moments later, when Torri rubs herself against Rachel's thigh, breathing harshly against Rachel's cheek, the taste of herself warm and close enough to touch with her tongue.

* * *

The next morning, Rachel enters the warehouse greeted by Ben, Jason and Claudia sitting on the couch, each with a bowl of cereal in their hands. They all look ridiculously young, their wide eyes following her steps. "Good morning," she says with a smile.

They blink at her with raised eyebrows, apparently rendered speechless by her cheery disposition. Not that she blames them, of course. Rachel is decidedly not a morning person. She chuckles, shaking her head.

Claudia sets her bowl down on the coffee table and wipes her mouth with a napkin. Standing from her seat, she comes closer to Rachel, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Wait a minute," she says, "you're happy, and for no good reason?"

She glances at Ben and Jason quickly before turning back to Rachel. "Oh darling, congratulations."

Rachel leans her head to the side, her smile never wavering.

"What for?" Ben asks.

She holds Claudia's gaze for a moment, then rolls her eyes in exasperation. Of course, Claudia would never embarrass her, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't have her own fun. Rachel nods in Jason's direction and he nods back with a satisfied look on his face before digging into his cereal once more.

Ben looks confused but Rachel's sure Claudia will explain later.

Rachel climbs the stairs, pausing as Claudia calls out to her, "I want details later!" and laughs all the way to her room.

*

Rachel's forgotten that new relationship feeling, when you want to be with that person every waking moment, and all you think about is sex and what they feel and taste like. What she feels now with Torri is like a crash course and she's being assaulted with all these feelings at once. Torri's distracting presence, even when she's not physically around, is in some ways exactly what Rachel feared the most -- of being consumed with one person to the exclusion of all others. Rachel's friendships aren't suffering, but her focus, her concentration, is completely shot.

It's been five days, and she's feeling slightly guilty that she hasn't devoted the time and research their upcoming job deserves. In Rainbow's room, she'd been distracted by thoughts of Torri even then. She'd retained very little information about the Krupp plan, and so her intention had been to see Torri earlier in the day before coming home to work.

Rachel leans her head to the side, exposing her neck to Torri's soft mouth. Plans always have a way of changing.

Sliding the door open, Rachel grabs Torri's hand and tugs her inside, turning on her heels to face the other woman with a smirk. "Can you be quiet?"

"No," Torri answers immediately. She dips her head, pulling at Rachel's lips with a thorough kiss, her hands clutching the hem of Rachel's shirt.

Rachel giggles, "Down girl," but she doesn't push Torri away. There's a certain freedom that comes with her attachment to Torri, and she wants to revel in it for as long as she can.

A sound behind her has Rachel breaking the kiss far sooner than she wanted, and she looks over her shoulder to see Claudia standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hello," Claudia says slowly, and with an insufferable grin that lets Rachel know endless teasing will be coming her way in the near future. Rachel had shared some details of her relationship with Torri, because Claudia's her friend, but she didn't divulge everything.

"Cee." The nickname is intentional and one Rachel rarely uses unless it's just the two of them without all the bluster and posturing the guys bring to their misfit family.

Claudia shrugs, but there's understanding in her eyes now, a promise not to push. She approaches Rachel who's standing in front of Torri, leaning into the other woman, and lays a soft kiss against Rachel's cheek.

Rachel immediately returns the chaste kiss, watches as Claudia and Torri exchange smiles before Claudia walks away. She thinks about the brief moment she stood between these two women, standing tall over her, each protective of Rachel in their own ways, and she feels grateful.

She also feels loved, but it's too soon, and so she pushes that thought to the back of her mind, willing herself to forget.

*

Rachel leans against the isle in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes wandering up Torri's bare legs to the t-shirt that stops just below the curve of her ass. The shirt rides up slightly as Torri stretches on her toes, her fingers reaching for the elusive bag of cookies Torri craved.

The bag crinkles loudly under Torri's grasp and she makes a triumphant noise as she settles flat on her feet once again. Turning to face Rachel, Torri hums as she breaks the seal of the bag and stuffs a cookie into her mouth.

A smile on her lips, Rachel crosses her arms and meets Torri's eyes. "You're looking mighty pleased with yourself right now."

"I am," Torri mumbles around a mouthful.

Rachel scrunches her nose up at Torri's bad manners, but doesn't respond otherwise. She simply opens the refrigerator door and grabs a bottle of water, handing it to Torri silently.

The other woman nods her thanks and takes a long swallow after she chews what's left in her mouth. When she finally puts the bottle down on the countertop, Rachel notices the drops of water left behind on her upper lip. She stares at it, waiting for Torri to swipe it away with her tongue. Instead, Torri leans back on her elbows against the counter, her legs apart, her shirt stretched across her chest.

Rachel wonders if anyone else would be able to tell that Torri's nipples are pushing just barely against the soft fabric of her shirt in arousal, or if she's only noticing because of her more than passing familiarity with Torri's breasts, of how much time she'd spent licking and sucking Torri's warm skin just hours ago in her bedroom.

And, could Torri note the beginning changes in Rachel's body? Would she be able to tell how much Rachel wanted her just by looking at her face or listening to her escalated breaths?

Yes, Rachel decides. They've spent an inordinate amount of time getting to know each other's bodies, reading their cues and deciphering what a certain look or action means without the benefit of words.

(Torri can tell, right now for example, that Rachel wants to lick that condensation from her lip and then trace a path into Torri's mouth; that Rachel doesn't want to stop at kissing and the only thing holding her back is that they're in her kitchen, for God's sake -- the last place Rachel wants to get caught having sex.)

Rachel, on the other hand, is nearly certain that Torri doesn't care about any of that. Torri's pose, the soft smirk on her face, seems to be purposefully challenging Rachel, and Rachel's finding it hard to resist. The digital clock on the microwave reads 3:19, reminding Rachel of the late hour. Too late for any of her roommates to be up, but that's never stopped Rainbow or Jason from grabbing a late night snack after playing Xbox for hours on end.

Torri's voice suddenly cuts through her thoughts. "Anybody ever tell you that you think too much?"

Rachel starts and bites at her lip, suddenly hesitant at what to do next. She's spent the past few minutes trying to convince herself of one thing when she wants the opposite. Realizing the truth of Torri's words, Rachel snorts in amusement.

"Maybe once or twice."

Torri chuckles. "Come over here," she murmurs, her quiet voice sounding loud to Rachel's ears. "Don't make me come and get you," she says when Rachel remains where she is.

Rachel finally pushes off from the counter and closes the short distance between them. Her own t-shirt modestly covering her to her knees now seems inadequate, and she feels like she's been stripped bare under Torri's gaze.

Torri sucks cookie crumbs from her thumb, and when Rachel is near enough, she drapes her arms loosely around Rachel's hips. She breathes deeply, trailing her fingers gently down Rachel's thighs over her shirt, then slips her hands beneath the thin material to touch bare skin.

Rachel presses a soft kiss against Torri's neck, her hands resting flat against the countertop behind Torri. Her fingers flex against the smooth surface when Torri drags blunt nails up the backs of her thighs and cups her ass in a firm grip.

Brushing Torri's hair behind her ears, Rachel frames Torri's face with her hands and pulls her forward for a kiss, deep and searching, like they have all the time in the world. When Torri tries to rush the kiss, Rachel pulls back, swiping her tongue along Torri's bottom lip, teasing her with strokes of what she can't have.

Torri digs her nails into the soft flesh of Rachel's ass, pleading with fingers, with muffled words against Rachel's wet lips: "Let me have your mouth."

Rachel draws her hands down Torri's chest, stopping to squeeze her breasts through her shirt before her hands continue down. Torri's arousal catches Rachel instantly, her mouth parting wider as she pulls away, licking her lips as if she can taste it in the air. Rachel's fingers are eager and gentle as they tangle in the short hairs between Torri's thighs, searching out her clit, slicking with wetness until she enters, surrounded by tightness that contracts as she fucks her.

Torri breathes harshly into Rachel's ear, rocking her hips into Rachel as she adds another finger; grips Rachel's ass so hard it startles them both into pausing, and the seconds tick by until Rachel continues pumping her fingers inside Torri, the rhythm slow and even.

For the moment, they forget about prying eyes and the lack of walls in the kitchen; they forget about the privacy they could have if they'd just go to Rachel's room.

Rachel makes her choice, focusing on bringing Torri just within reach, and finally swallows her cries as she comes.

*

Fingers tapping a beat she can't place, Rachel powers on her laptop and shifts against a stack of pillows at the head of her bed until she's comfortable.

Torri lies asleep beside her, long legs tangled between her sheets. She snores lightly -- something Rachel finds amusing as well as adorable. Rachel may tease her about it when Torri wakes up later.

Rachel opens her e-mail and clicks on the attachment from Jason, then settles in for what she hopes will be a few hours worth of productive work. It only takes 30 minutes of reading and a Google search to confirm that Rachel rarely gets what she wants.

"Damn it," she murmurs to herself.

*

When Torri wakes up, she feels drowsier than when she'd first lain down. She'd obviously slept deeply and far too long. She rubs a hand down her face, blinking heavy eyes until her blurred vision gradually clears. Reaching out her other hand, Torri gropes blindly for Rachel but only feels an empty space. Yawning, she slips from the bed and out the door, escaping to the bathroom, her mind still mostly focused on trying to wake up.

An outburst of laughter startles Torri as she's leaving the bathroom, her bare feet quiet on the hardwood floor in the hallway. Voices carry from further down the hall, and she cocks her head to the side. Though the voices are muffled, she distinctly hears Rachel, and that's all she needs to know as she makes her way in that direction.

It turns out to be Joe's room, and Jason reaches the door before Torri, not hesitating to enter Joe's space without permission.

Torri blinks hard at what she sees. It's comical and ridiculous and a little scary all at once. Rachel and Joe are standing face to face, talking rather loudly. She's hesitant to call it arguing since they seem to be so polite about it.

A giggle escapes, though, at seeing Rainbow seated in the middle of them, working studiously on his laptop, as Claudia tries to shield the younger man's ears from Rachel and Joe's colorful language.

Capping off the scene before her is how utterly ridiculous they all look, still in their pajamas. Torri bites her lip and looks down at her own attire. At least she's appropriately dressed.

Rachel's eyes seem to light up when she sees her, and Torri feels her cheeks warm. She settles for raising her eyebrows suggestively until they can be alone.

Claudia's voice interrupts her thoughts. "We're just having a minor family spat. I hope they didn't wake you."

"No, she was awake," Jason answers, smirking at Torri over his shoulder. He joins the others, kneeling next to Rainbow at the foot of Joe's bed to get a better look at the computer screen.

Claudia rubs her hands together, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Good. You can keep me company so I won't be bored to tears by shop talk."

"Shop talk? Well, shouldn't you be over there too?"

Claudia gestures at the group with a dismissive wave. "I've got a while, yet. Rachel and Joe are still being civil towards one another."

The other woman's words make a certain kind of sense, though Torri's having a little trouble picturing Rachel being uncivil and whatever that entails. Suddenly, she snickers at the image in her head of petite Rachel giving as good as she gets from Joe, steadfastly refusing to let him intimidate her.

Claudia nods with a grin. "See, you have no trouble imagining that scenario." She sighs. "But, they're also relentless at this stage. Rachel's often just as stubborn, if not more so, than Joe and Jason combined."

"I can see why she'd have to be," Torri murmurs.

Claudia gives her an assessing glance. "I suppose you'd know all about that, hmm?"

Torri laughs shortly, deciding there's no point in lying when Claudia obviously knows Rachel well. "Ah, yes. I'm well acquainted with her stubborn streak."

"And yet, you're still here," Claudia surmises with a wink. "Good on you."

Torri shrugs, even as she fights the urge to grin proudly. She is still here, and nothing or no one is going to chase her away.

"Joe!" Rachel exclaims, "No one has successfully stolen anything from Krupp's. Ever. So how do you expect us to waltz into several vaults and lift these people's jewelry with them being none the wiser?"

"We're not waltzing anywhere Rachel, for fuck's sake. Did you even read the plan?"

Rachel draws up to all five feet, five inches of her height and steps closer into Joe's space. "I don't give a damn about a plan, Joe. What about logic? You don't go from happening upon a bag of diamonds to stealing a billion's worth, with nothing else in between."

When Claudia interjects with flippant exasperation, "Jesus, Flan, a little perspective would be nice," Joe flips her off in return.

Rachel smiles without humor. "The Krupp job is off," she says tightly. Torri's never heard that tone in her voice before.

"We could be set for life, Rachel," Joe argues, "think about it."

"You are already set for life. As it stands right now, this is too risky."

Joe tries to plead his case once more and the others join in, talking over one another until Torri's voice cuts through the rising noise. "I'd listen to Rachel, if I were you."

Silence.

Finally, Joe speaks. "Is that right?" he drawls, sounding unconvinced.

"Trust me," Torri dryly replies. "The last group who tried to empty one of the Krupp vaults and ride off into the sunset had been planning that job for over a year. And they still got caught."

"Further," Torri says, staving off Joe's next response, "if you want to get into the diamond market, you're going to need help from someone who knows the business." She pauses for effect, "That's where I come in."

Joe's eyes light up, a small grin spreading on his face. "Now this plan, I like."

"Torri, what's going on?" Rachel asks, arching her brow in confusion.

"I want to help."

"Good," Jason agrees, having pulled himself up to his regular height.

Soon the group is talking excitedly about the possible jobs and money they could earn, with Joe inputting every so often about Torri's potential contacts.

Meanwhile, Torri's gaze settles on Rachel, whose mouth is pressed in a flat line and her arms are crossed tightly over her chest. She looks closed off, and more importantly, pissed. "Can we talk?" she grounds out.

Torri's nod is instant and they leave the others in Joe's room.

Rachel is quiet on the short walk to her room. When she closes the door behind her, she no longer looks angry. Confusion seems to have won out, and Torri sighs to herself.

"Why?" Rachel asks, breaking the silence. "Why would you volunteer to help?"

Torri lets out a short laugh. "Because you guys clearly need it."

Rachel shakes her head, her face solemn. "No, I mean why? What about your shop and your business?"

Torri shrugs. "I'll still have those."

Rachel bites her bottom lip, studying Torri silently. Finally she asks, "And you're just helping us out because you're such a nice person?" She sounds skeptical, and Torri can't really blame her.

"God no," Torri answers. "I'm not that altruistic." She moves closer to Rachel, continues in a low voice, "As a matter of fact, my reasons for helping are very selfish."

Rachel licks her lips and takes a step forward. "And what reasons are those?"

"Well, for starters you." Torri tips her chin down to where she can feel Rachel's soft breath on her lips. She's taken by surprise when Rachel jerks back.

"No," Rachel says decisively, "don't put that on me. Don't make me your only reason."

She can feel Rachel pulling away and she reaches out blindly, speaks little white lies wrapped in truth. "Rachel, I didn't- I want to help because I know the diamond market inside and out and you're going to need someone like me. But you're an important part of that too." Torri steps back, gives both of them space. "Don't push me away."

The minutes seem to drag on as they stare at each other, until Rachel finally nods and gives Torri a soft smile. "Are you sure? I don't want you to have regrets, Torri. You have to be sure." The words come rushing out, as if Rachel's trying to convince herself; like she's afraid to let herself want this and Torri.

"Hey," Torri says, walking up to Rachel cups her face with her hands and gives her a deep kiss. She wants to say I love you; the words are just on the edge of her lips but she holds them back. Torri's not afraid of saying it -- not when she's never felt anything so intensely, so right, for anyone else before. She knows that it's love. But this isn't just about her, and she wonders if putting a name to this feeling will chase Rachel away.

Torri can handle Rachel not being ready, but she doesn't think she'd be able to handle flat out rejection. Not now. So what she does instead is lay claim to those words silently and swallows them whole, saying aloud, "You're stuck with me. So deal with it."

Rachel grins then, and there's weight to the gesture, and unspoken promises. Torri chooses to believe it's Rachel's way of saying: I love you too. What she hears is Rachel repeating, "Are you sure?"

Torri nods and presses her body against Rachel so there's no room between them. Rachel stands just slightly on her toes and rubs her lips across the exposed skin of Torri's throat. "You want me too, right?" Torri breathes. She meets Rachel's eyes, wanting to ensure her double meaning is perfectly understood. "And that's why I'm staying with you."

*

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