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Sometimes you have to start over from the beginning without knowing what went before. Without what went before having gone before, in any meaningful way. Everyone's experiences are written on the body, written on the heart, written on the face, but when a life begins again sometimes they go away.

Natasha is on her Nth life.

She stopped counting so long ago she's not sure how long ago it was, erased in one more rewrite of time.

She's never kissed a woman before.

This time.

But the girl in the miniskirt who's standing on the bar shouting is the sort of girl she might have wanted to kiss, once, flame-haired, flame-hearted.

Something in her eyes--

It is not Amy's first time around either--not judging from the way she moves, the way she relaxes into the moment--but she says it is.

Natalie is as good a person for Amy to begin with as anyone, and together they can figure out how to make it work. Hands go here and here and here and here, lips fit together, noses to the sides--

It's sweet. Natasha was expecting that, whether or not Natalie was.

Amy grins at her, the corners of her mouth tilting.

She's crying.

"No? Is this not what you wanted?" Natalie asks, and brushes away Amy's tears with her fingers. Natalie is very gentle when she needs to be.

"It's fine," Amy says. "Allergies or something, I don't know. My eyes just do that sometimes." She leans in for another kiss. "I shouldn't go far from the bar, though, so if you want--"

They lock themselves in a stall in the ladies' room and cup each other as if they know what they're doing, interlacing their legs--Amy's are long, not as strong as they could be with the right training, Natalie's a bit shorter and a good deal more muscled. "Damn," Amy says, her fingers testing Natalie's thigh. "Kickboxing?"

Natalie laughs and kisses her again to get her mind off the subject. "Sometimes."

"I just run," Amy says, and Natalie has to brush away another tear before it trickles down her face.

"Sometimes I run, too," Natalie tells her, and tugs Amy closer with both hands on her hips, interlacing their thighs so they can grind against each other.

Amy cries out first, muffling the sound against Natalie's mouth. "Not bad," she says, and, "What do you need?"

The sadness is still there in her eyes, whatever's making her cry without her knowledge.

For a dizzy moment, Natasha thinks she's looking in a mirror.

She bites her lip to stop herself from making any noise as she grinds down against Amy's thigh and comes, holding her breath in case Natalie's habits take over from Natasha's. Natalie isn't as open as she could be, but she doesn't have as much to hide as Natasha generally does. "Just--that," Natalie says.

"All right," Amy says, and starts to catch her breath. The pink spots on her cheeks begin to fade.

Someone knocks on the door and a man calls, "Amy? Did you fall in?"

"Just a second," Amy calls, and then she kisses Natalie again. "I've got to go. Don't worry, he's not my fiance or anything."

Natalie frowns at her and the glint of a new tear in the corner of her eye. "Is he good to you?"

"He's fantastic. The best friend in the world. But really, I've got to go." Amy waves goodbye and turns, her hair flying and the teardrop catching in the red strands like a momentary diamond before it sinks in and disappears.

Natasha cleans herself up more thoroughly and makes a note to find out who Amy's fiance is, who the friend is. If anyone hurts Amy and Natasha finds out about it, they'll pay, and Natasha has much better networks than Natalie does.