Who: Pamela Isley [narrative] When: Saturday Night Where: Velvet What: Expermentation Rated: R Status: Closed
If there was one thing Pam Isley was good at, it was compacting her demons into a tiny ball and shoving them away to be forgotten. So it was no surprise that when she felt a twinge in her nethers for Harleen Quinzel, she'd pushed her confusion aside, not dealing with it until over a month later. Even though it wasn't at the forefront of her mind, what with all the other things she had to think about between her job and extracurriculars and settling in, it still twisted her stomach into knots. It was a conundrum she needed to make sense of.
So she pushed her way into Velvet--one of the more popular lesbian bars in Gotham, her google search had told her--stepping nervously through the crowd. The looks she got made her feel like a fish without water. She made her way to the bar and ordered a strong drink before glancing around, trying to picture herself in all of this. Was this a lifestyle for her?
"Hey..." Well, that hadn't taken long, Pam thought to herself. She was more than mildly pleased when she saw that the women who'd approached her was attractive and definitely not bottom of the barrel. The woman was maybe two inches shorter than her with short but bright blonde hair cropped close to her head. It was a look Pam wasn't sure she could ever pull off with the curves she'd been given, but it suited this woman with her thin, straight frame. She smiled. The stranger took this as an encouraging sign. "My friends didn't think I'd have the guts to come over here and talk to you...I'm Darla, by the way."
"Pam," the redhead murmured back, glancing over at a group of women leaning around a tall table. They whispered to each other, and Pam waved a bit, enjoying the attention. Most of the time, she found herself misinterpreting these kinds of symbols, but in this setting, she could see what people were thinking very clearly. In the sexual stock market Pam was a high commodity. It filled her with a strange confidence as well as an illicit pleasure. "They seem nice."
"My friends?" Darla half-squeaked, glancing over her shoulder. Pam could tell this woman could probably a smooth operator around most of the other women in the bar, but for some reason, it didn't hold water in her presence. "Yeaaaah, well, they can be assholes, but friends are friends, right?" She chuckled, glancing down at the half empty glass in Pam's hands. "Can I get you another?"
Pam thought about this for a moment, studying the woman. Empirically, Darla was attractive. Pam could envision the possibility of fooling around with this woman. It seemed like a nice, safe test to see if she really was gay or if the Harley thing had been a total fluke. "Sure..." She cooed warmly, watching her voice bring a smile over the other woman's face.
The next hour or so was spent in idle chatter and flirting. Even if she ultimately wanted nothing to do with Darla beyond the night, Pam was enjoying playing the game with her. Subtle fingers through hair, certain touches, the right pitch to her laughter, whispering in her ear just so and Pam had the woman right where she wanted her. Of course, the alcohol also helped. It hardly affected Pam, so she kept drinking at a fast clip. Darla in her eagerness to keep up was getting sloppier, so she didn't resist when Pam mentioned getting a cab back to Darla's place.
Stepping into the apartment, Pam smiled. Darla was a concert promoter, and the place suited her. Exposed brick for a real city girl and framed posters that belied a true love for music gave the place a real urban boho charm. Darla closed the door behind them before closing the distance between them and kissing Pam. The redhead let out a sigh, melting into that little bit of comfort. This wasn't how it was with Jason, of course. There weren't those thrilling stakes--the illicitness of a professor-student relationship, the pride and comraderie of partners in a world-saving mission. However, it was nice--soft and sensual. Pam had spent so much time on a pulpit, chasing for her cause that she had forgotten what it felt like to be pursued. Hell, she'd never felt so sought after or desired.
She pulled away after a moment, leaving Darla blinking in a lust-filled stupor. "What's wrong?"
Pam gave a crooked smile, reaching out to run her fingers through Darla's hair. "You're not going to believe me, but...I've actually never...really..." Darla was obviously not getting the picture. "With a woman." She caught the look of fear, of doubt that she had wasted her night courting a curious-but-interested heterosexual. "I just discovered myself, really," Pam explained quickly, tapping little kisses along Darla's face and down her neck. "And you're so sweet and so beautiful...I just wanted you to know I might not be any good."
Darla let out a loud laugh at that, holding her hands behind the small of Pam's back. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you." She practically melted with Pam flashed her a warm grin, and she kissed the redhead, grabbing her hands and leading her into the bedroom.
Pam was awake and dressed early the next morning. On the end table she had left Darla a note--"Thanks for taking care of me. -Pam". She did the charitable thing and turned on the coffee maker before slipping out the door. She didn't even have time to care about doing the walk of shame. The whole night's experience had given Pam a lot of food for thought. She knew so much more now about herself...and about what she wanted to do about her research.