Post-Shopping Respite

Surreptitiously watching Connie exit the bathroom, she busied herself with the tools. Her date didnt look too bad for just being ill. Her beautiful skin was not greentoned, like Nyra got when ill.

"Its quite ok hon. No one can control being sick so dont think twice about it. I did fix you up some water in hopes it will help settle your stomach." Nodding to the glass on the counter. "I hope you dont mind. Its just sparkling water, some lime and lemon juice. Should help."

Connie took mincing steps to the kitchen and leaned against the island. "Nope, definately don' mind your tryin' ta help, it's very appreciated dear."

She reached and slid one of the light pine stools closer to her and leaned one buttcheek on it, trying not to over-compress her abdomen. She took the proffered glass of water and smiled at Nyra. "Control lacking or not, it doesn't make me feel any better that not only did I, but I may have inadvertently ended our date."

Lowering her eyes embarassedly, she sipped of the cool water, refreshing as it slid down her throat, the gentle citrus infused tickling her tongue. She whispered after she swallowed a second sip, "And that's definately somethin' I don' wanna do."

"No worries, really. I just want you to be feeling better." Plopping the tools down onto a rag she began drying them off. After stifling a yawn with a damp hand she glanced at the clock.

"Actually, as much as I hate to say it, I need to sleep. My show is tomorrow night and I have a ton of things to do before it starts." She was industriously cleaning the tools, to keep her gaze off Connie.

"You wouldnt want to join me as my date to the gallery opening would you? If your feeling better and dont have work of course." Biting her lower lip in nervousness, she glanced up at Connie, from under her lashes.

Connie's tummy was still wracked occasionally with twitches and spasms, and it prevented her from leaping off the stool to hug Nyra. Instead, she settled for reaching for Nyra's hand and squeezing it, and smiling as she answered, "Of course I would! I'd be honored to! Love to! Definately! Yes! What should I wear? Do you need me to do anythin' special?"

Three corners of Connie's mind danced for joy, while the fourth quietly kept its concentration on keeping her belly quiescent.

Smiling shyly and restraining a bounce for joy. "Feel free to wear whatever you wish. Though it is a gallery showing, I normally try to dress up a bit."

She thought of the silver dress she and her mother had made for shows. It was long and flowing, with sheer chiffon butterfly sleeves and top skirt. They had hand embroidered swirling symbols all along the hemlines of the skirt, neck and sleeves. The dark grey underskirt and bodice set off the silvery tones perfectly, making it shine, while the white embroidery sparkled with beades. Nyra even brought real heals (flats really) for the event. Despite its fancy description it was quite simple and understated, dramatic enough to say 'Im an artist' without saying 'Im a flamingo too!'.

"You dont have to do anything but be yourself. And come over prior for dinner of course. I can never be sure these places will have appropriate food, so I eat beforehand."

She put the now clean and dry tools into their box and stacked it with the rest. Turning to look at Connie she asked somewhat excitedly. "Would you like to see my dress?"

Connie's eyes widened as her heart sped perceptibly. To see this woman in a dress...

"Isn't that bad luck, to see the dress before..." She closed her eyes and sighed. "No, stupid, that's for weddings. Shut up and just say yes to her," Connie told herself, then looked up at Nyra, anticipation coloring her smile, "I'd love to. Would give me an idea of what to shop for!"

Giggling, Nyra bounced over to the closet next to the bathroom. She opened the door and pulled out the solid single shade of gray and silver among the bright tones and patterns on the skirts and tunics. She held it up to her and walked closer to Connie, but stopped far enough away to not crowd her.

Holding the dress up to her and stroking the soft floating fabric. "My mother and I made this specifically for gallery shows. So I wouldnt have to stress over what to wear."

"Stress? Stress?" Connie had a hard time hiding the incredulity in her voice. The dress was simply stunning!

"That dress is stunning, Nyra! I can't wait to see you in it!"

Connie put her chin in her palm thoughtfully and sipped again of the flavored water. "I should get something in black then, I suppose... And maybe have a closet built in my apartment, too."

She sighed deeply. "Ah can't believe I forgot to add a closet to the plans. And the bathroom's not even finished yet..."

She derailed her own train of thought and looked at Nyra. "That dress though... Mmm! Can I bring mah camera, to take pictures? Or will there be photographers there? Oh and what time should I come over?"

She stifled a yawn as Nyra hid one of her own behind the dress. "Of course, all questions that can wait til the mornin'. Yer tired, and I'm sure you need to have yer batteries recharged fer the show. I should get goin'. Thank you again fer a lovely evenin' and I'm sorry fer ending it so suddenly." She lowered her eyes a bit, then looked up at the artist through her bangs.

Blushing heartily "It really is simple. I just needed something fancy enough to fit in with gallery's insistance of black tie openings." She wrinkled her nose.

"It does a good job of hiding the things I want hidden, thats for sure. Black would look good and match your hair." She tilted her head from side to side, studying Connie's hair. "I could help you touch the roots up a bit if you want. Or I have some lovely henna colors I picked up the other day."

"Please do bring your camera, I want to get a picture of you. Though I must assume the gallery will have someone reporting the event. Galleries always seem to do that." She wrinkled her nose again at that. Some openings were so difficult with pushy patrons, nosey reporters and horrible food. Hopefully this one would be different. Especially with Connie coming with her.

"I plan on spending several hours in the morning there but from 3pm to 7pm I will be here getting ready. I need to get rid of this stripe in my hair, that only a soak will do. But that leaves plenty of time for dinner and getting ready. You are welcome to come anytime really."

Hiding a yawn behind the dress before hanging it up on a cabinet knob, Nyra smiled at the beauty in her loft.

"You did nothing to end it. Nature happens, dont ever worry about that. Are you feeling better? Do you want to call a cab or are you up to driving?"

"I can't imagine you'd want to hide anything of yourself, Nyra. I certainly don' want you to."

Sincerely gazing at the artist, Connie sipped again from her water, finishing it. Her belly did feel better... She'd definately need to actually feed tonight. That one call took an awful lot out of her.

"I'd certainly appreciate the help... I haven't kept my hair its natural blonde in a few years now. People react differently to blondes. Henna might be fun to try, but I'd rathah just touch up the black for now. So, I'll remember my camera, and need to go shoppin', so I'll probly be here roundabout fourish? And I should be fine drivin', yer remedy helped me quite a bit."

As much as Connie would have liked to hope Nyra would invite her to stay, the woman didn't have any blinds or curtains anywhere in the apartment. And while Connie could stand a few seconds of sunlight before she got overly crisp, waking in a sunbeam just wouldn't be her alarm clock of choice.

She leaned off the stool, set the glass in the sink, rinsing it with hot water, and placed it in the drying bin. She turned back to Nyra and found the shorter beauty standing within an arm's reach of her. "Thank you again fer tonigh', Nyra." She hoped her eyes and smile would convey all that she was feeling - "it was fun, great, amazing," "arting with you was an interesting experience," "I'm sorry I got sick," and "I really don't want to leave, but we both know I should."

"Thank you. It was my pleasure." Nyra replied quietly, smiling up at Connie. She wanted to hug her but did not want to upset her stomach again. So she gently placed her hand on the taller woman's shoulder, leaned up and forward and brushed a soft quick kiss to her cheek.

As she resumed standing back her hand gently rubbed Connie's shoulder and then trailed down her arm. Ending to lace their fingers together.

"May I walk you out at least?"

Connie was touched by Nyra's apparent attempt to not upset her stomach anymore and squeezed the delicate fingers tenderly between hers. She nodded.

Nyra walked her mostly quietly down to the garage, though Connie saw first that the shorter woman kept giving her glances filled with tenderness and caring as well as a bit of worry.

It wasn't til Connie sat in the driver's seat of her car that she noticed Nyra had removed her shoes. "Pick up a nice pair of faux leather moccasins for Nyra," she told herself as Nyra leaned into the open car window and gave her another soft kiss on the cheek. "Thank yah, m'Lady, fer walkin' me tah mah carriage."

"Stone, you are SUCH a dork. Southern and British accents just don't mix like that." She blushed horribly, thankfully disguised by the darkness in the garage, and pulled out as Nyra stepped away and waved into her mirror.

Unconcerned and unaware of her barefooted state she walked back up the stairs to the loft alternating between giggling in joy or sighing with pleasure. She cleaned up, brushed her teeth and got ready for bed.

Tomorrow would be a busy day!

((Nyra out!))

Connie pulled into the Piazza, belly and blood-thirst sated, sense of justice fulfilled, and the wiggly-wrinkles in her guts gone.

She went into work to fulfill her eight hours so that she could join Nyra at the Gallery showing the next day.


(( Connie out. ))