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like a bad girl

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It was one of those mellow California sunshine kind of parties; Kitty hadn't met most of the people there, but it didn't seem to matter. Lindsey and Gerard knew the most fascinating array of musicians, artists and writers, most of them exactly Kitty's kind of nerdy and geeky.

She chatted with Grant and Kristan Morrison, a little surprised and flattered that they even remembered who she was. Somehow, she'd forgotten that they were MSI fans. They talked about the punk scenes in New York and London back in the '70's and how kids today just didn't appreciate a good DIY garage band.

Grant and Kristan drifted away, and Kitty found herself having a succession of conversations with an astrophysicist, a professional cruciverbalist, and a very serious woman named Iseult who called herself a technomage.

"Kitty, you've gotta meet Becky," Lindsey said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from Iseult. Kitty shrugged and threw an apologetic look over her shoulder. "You guys have so much in common, I'm sure you're going to be best friends."

"Okay," Kitty said, letting Lindsey guide her into the kitchen. Sometimes, Lindsey got these ideas and honestly, it was just better to go with the flow.

"Plus, she's totally your type." Lindsey's grin was mischievous and it made something tighten in Kitty's stomach.

"No, no, Linds, no—" Kitty tried to slam on the brakes. Since Lindsey had married Gerard, she'd become a vocal proponent of twu luv and spent a lot of time matchmaking for her single friends.

"Trust me," Lindsey said, and Kitty resigned herself to another round of awkward dates until she left for New York. "This," Lindsey said with a flourish, "is Becky Cloonan."

Kitty believed in love, and she believed in chemistry and attraction and lust. She'd been in love, in lust, had long term relationships and a few one-offs. She'd been in a punk band for more years than she cared to count; she knew what it was like to be a woman in the all-dick music scene, and she knew how to tell the world to fuck off.

Kitty didn't know what this was, the way her heart dropped into her stomach and her breath jammed in her throat. "H-hi," she stuttered.

Becky Cloonan was beautiful, tiny and red-headed, with black-framed glasses that magnified her striking green eyes. Her arms were bare and Kitty's attention was momentarily snagged by the tattoos that peeked out from under her sleeves.

"Hi," Becky said, holding out her hand.

Kitty shook hands, trying to ignore how warm the room suddenly felt.

"Becky is an writer, artist and illustrator, and she's absolutely awesome, Kitty. She's working with Gerard on some great ideas." Lindsey's tone was light, but Kitty knew Lindsey like a sister, could hear the note of smugness in her voice. "Becky, this is Kitty, my friend and bandmate and the best drummer ever."

"Nice to meet you," Becky said, and Kitty gave herself a mental shake.

"Same," she said, a little sheepishly.

"You guys both love manga, metal, Kpop, ramen and tentacles. You'll get along great," Lindsey said, backing away from them with a smile. With a wave of her fingers, she disappeared into the crowd of people.

"So, tentacles," Becky drawled, and Kitty couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Kitty cleared her throat, which was starting to sound a little scratchy from the long conversation she'd been having with Becky. She took a sip of her drink and looked around, noticing that the party had died down to clusters of smaller groups. "I can't believe you like U-KISS over SHINee. They're not even in the same league," Kitty protested, because really. Anyone could tell that the boys from SHINee were infinitely more talented.

Becky stared at her in outrage. "No." She covered her ears and shook her head. "I refuse to listen to this."

Kitty laughed and tried to pull her hands away, but Becky was surprisingly strong. She changed her tactics, dancing her fingers down Becky's unguarded sides, tickling her. The reaction was immediate; Becky jerked, dropping her arms to protect her ribs from Kitty's attack, her giggle ringing bright and clear.

The sound was charming, and before Kitty could stop herself, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Becky's. Becky made a soft sound of surprise, which brought Kitty back to her senses and she pulled back hastily, "Sorry, sorry, I didn't—I don't know what I was thinking—"

Becky just arched an eyebrow and whispered, "Why don't we find someplace a little more private?"

They found an darkened room, stumbled across a couch and collapsed on it, a confusion of arms and legs and elbows.

"Ow," Becky complained, and Kitty giggled at the ridiculousness of what they were doing, two adults acting like hormone-driven teenagers.

"This is worse than making out in the back of my first boyfriend's car," she said, and Becky's grin flashed white.

"I know, right?" Their fingers tangled as they both tried to unbutton Becky's blouse, and eventually Becky slapped at Kitty's hands. "Let me do it. At this rate, we'll get caught before we even get to do anything."

She made quick work of the fastenings, and Kitty's pulse stuttered when she saw the lacy bra that Becky was wearing. Becky paused when she noticed Kitty's stare. "Well?" She tugged at the dressy top that Kitty was wearing. "Fair's fair."

Kitty ignored her, letting her fingers trace along the edges of the silky fabric, wondering if the skin underneath would be as soft. Becky's nipple was hard, and she gasped a little when Kitty circled it with a fingertip, teasing them both. "So pretty," Kitty murmured. She kissed Becky again, taking her time, ignoring the impatient little sounds that Becky was making into her mouth, the way her hands were urging Kitty closer.

"Kitty—" Becky breathed. "C'mon—"

There was sudden, startling pounding against the door, and a deep voice intoned, "Hands better be above the waist and outside of your clothes!"

Kitty and Becky lurched in alarm at the noise, and their heads bumped together with a painful thunk as Kitty tried to keep from tumbling off the couch. "Fuck me," Kitty said breathlessly. "Steve, I'm going to fucking kill you!" She looked down at Becky, about to apologize for her asshole bandmates, when she realized that Becky was choking on her giggles.

"It was Jimmy's idea!" Steve yelled. "But Lindsey was the one who told us where you were."

"Fuckers. I hate them all," Kitty said, laughing.

Becky wrapped her arms around Kitty's neck and pulled her down for a kiss, warm and wet. "I have a nice hotel room. Maybe I could show you some of my drawings."

"Bet you say that to all the girls," Kitty said.

"Only the ones I really like."

That was a sentiment that Kitty could totally get behind.