SS:TIE 013

The dishwasher hums quietly, and a gentle thumping comes from the dryer. Tracy leans against the counter in the kitchen, empty wine glass in hand. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and she still wears her apron from cooking an uneaten dinner. She’s sick in the pit of her stomach, but she won’t throw up. She stares into the dining room, where her wife has been sitting for twenty minutes, staring at the collage of old photos from UFG on the wall.

Sally’s gun in its paddle holster sits on the table beside her, reflected in the polished wood surface.

These moments of existential anxiety aren’t new to Tracy, but usually they’re because she’s self-conscious about her age and how she looks, and the way that her wife is never home and spends all of her time around younger women with fewer wrinkles.

Not tonight. Tonight, she’s struck by how old Sally looks. Her memories of a brilliant, chipper sorority girl are so vivid. She hasn’t made peace with her guilt about the affair or any of that, but she’s given up fighting it. This is different. How did that girl turn into this woman? Is it Tracy’s fault? Does Sally spend all of her time at work because she doesn’t want to be home with her old wife? Tracy swallows. That’s anxiety. She puts the glass down and picks up the two plates.

Sally’s friend has been shot, and she’s been removed as the leader of her investigation. Her career is hanging by a thread. Sally doesn’t need Tracy’s worries; she needs her support.

SS: TIE

Chica circles the block, watching carefully. This motel is perfect. Palm trees obscure the upper walkways, and this is such a nexus of streets that pretty much everything can be an escape route. She parks and removes the glittery shopping bags from the Ford. The car is stolen, but it’s wearing clean plates. Her guard is up every step of the way to the door. She expects a blast of icy air and the musty stench of a seedy motel. Instead, she’s bludgeoned in the face with the competing aromas of pussy and shampoo.

Genuinely startled, Chica hurriedly closes the door and dumps the bags. She can’t help but place her hands on her hips and look disapproving.

Lili and Chica lie side by side on the bed, separated by about a foot of open space. Lili’s nude body is damp, and she’s on a towel; she must have come out of the shower. Elsa’s wearing a tank top, but her panties are around her ankle.

They’re watching TV, and they stop touching themselves and look at Chica.

“Shouldn’t you be at least a little alert?” Chica demands.

Lili’s finger has stopped lazily rubbing her clit, but her left index finger is still doing lugubrious circles around her nipple. “What for? There’s so many hookers and crackheads out there that we’ll know if there are any cops coming.”

“Christ.” Chica turns to look at the TV. “Is this that horny fantasy show? The one with all the ****?”

“There’s this hot older lady. She’s like mean. And she’s bullying the younger sister. They’re gonna do it,” Elsa predicts.

“If not this episode, then next episode,” Lili confirms, her eyes back on the screen.

Chica raises an eyebrow. On the TV, a grizzled and wiry older woman cups the chin of a much younger, prettier girl. They both wear very tight leather, and the actresses convincingly convey the tension between them. It’s pretty hot.

“You need to try on these suits,” Chica says, pointing at the bags. “And do some skincare.”

Lili spares a glance for the bags. “Why so much?”

“You need to look so good that Adella Salazar wants to do coke off your ass.”

“We’ll try them on later. We’re due for a scene with the aunt and her huge boobs.”

“You both have partners,” Chica scolds.

“We aren’t touching each other,” Elsa says distractedly.

“Jesus. One night and you’re acting like this is summer camp.”

“What summer camp did you go to?” Lili’s eyes are glued to the screen.

Chica looks again. Demure servants pour hot water into a tub while a busty woman disrobes. Chica checks her watch, then walks over and gestures. Lili obligingly scoots over. Chica climbs on beside her and unbuttons her jeans, then wiggles her hips to slide them down along with her underwear, just enough to get to what matters. This is a bit nostalgic, even if circumstances are objectively bad. She licks her finger and follows Lili’s example. No harm in having a little fun while they still can.

“Where’s Rey?” Elsa asks with a yawn.

SS: TIE

Kayla looks like something from a '90s erotic thriller, except it’s all authentic. She bites her knuckle and pulls at the sheets. A tear rolls down her face, but Rey mercilessly keeps the vibe pressed up hard against Kayla’s soaked panties. Rey licks Kayla’s jiggling breasts, then covers her face in kisses.

“What?” Kayla asks breathlessly, looking into her eyes after she’s finally stopped shaking.

“I thought you’d be mad.”

“Loyalty is attractive.” Kayla snorts, then pushes her damp hair out of her face. She snuggles closer. “I assume you’ve known your friends longer than you’ve known me. Because you know everyone longer than you’ve known me. I know why I’m so dumb about you.”

“What?”

“It’s because of UFG. Like it’s meant to be, you know?”

“God. I hope it is.” Rey kisses her hard. “You are so beautiful.”

Blushing, Kayla puts her head against Rey’s chest. “And that was how she turned gay.”

“You were gay all along. You just needed a real woman to show you.”

Kayla guffaws. “Sure, babe.”

Rey’s burner phone beeps. “Shit. Hang on.”

Kayla sighs dramatically and rolls over, hugging a pillow. Rey grabs the phone and goes into Kayla’s bathroom. She turns on the sink for a little noise cover.

“Chica?”

“They’re going after Glynda hard.”

“She won’t give us up,” Rey says confidently.

“Unless they threaten Faye.”

“They can’t know about her.”

“Maybe not yet, but we have to do something.”

Rey sighs. Chica’s right. As nice as it would be to just move ahead and hope for the best, that’s not how battles are won. Hope is not a strategy. “What do you have?”

“You aren’t going to like it.”

“Does it matter?”

“No. Remember Sally?”

“Sally who?”

“Sally, the brunette from CCL that you had a one-night stand with before we joined up. Hair band. Mary Sue energy.”

Rey is thrown for a moment. She shakes her head. “Um.” She remembers, of course. “What about her?”

“She’s a Miami-Dade senior detective, and she’s on our case.”

Rey stares at her reflection in Kayla’s bathroom mirror. “You’re fucking with me.”

“No. I have her address. We can lean on her to get the heat off us. Buy us time.”

Squeeze Sally to distract the cops?

Or find another way?