Slow Dance of Freedom

**August 1944, Paris.**

The city still exhaled the breath of occupation, but the night of Montmartre, under the starry sky, seemed to breathe only for two women. The small apartment above the deserted cafe had its window open to the silent Eiffel Tower; a cool breeze stirred the lace curtains and mixed the scent of Juliette's wild jasmine with Sarah's gunpowder.

**Juliette Laurent**, Captain of France, entered wearing a short black silk dress she had found in her grandmother's closet. The fabric flowed like water over her skin; her small but firm breasts stood out beneath it, the tips of her breasts casting shadows in the half-burnt candlelight. Her black hair fell to her shoulders, her emerald eyes full of triumph and exhaustion.

**Sarah Smith**, Captain America, had her uniform half-opened; The top buttons were undone, her white bra showing, her abs rising and falling with each breath. She stood, 188 centimeters tall, a pillar of strength and grace, in the doorway. The sweat of battle still glistened on her skin, but her eyes... her eyes saw only Juliet.

Juliet held out the wine glass to him. Their fingers trembled at the moment of contact; it was as if the lightning of the vita rays was flowing between them again.

“To you, *mon cœur*…” Juliet whispered, her lips lingering on the rim of the glass.

Sarah lowered the glass, kissing Juliet’s lips instead of drinking. The red wine flowed between their tongues; the taste of grapes and passion.

Juliet placed her hand on Sarah’s chest, feeling her heart pound. “You are so tall... like the sky of Paris.”

Sarah leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Juliet's. "And you... like a star I've lost myself in."

They walked to the bed, their steps slow, like a dance they'd been waiting for for years. Juliet stood behind Sarah, her arms wrapped around her waist, her fingers trailing over the remaining buttons of her uniform. With each button undone, Sarah's skin became more visible; her white bra fell off, her large, firm breasts were free, the pink nipples hard with excitement.

Juliet put her lips on Sarah's shoulder, her teeth biting into her skin; not hard, but enough to make Sarah moan deeply. "*Je te veux... tout de suite...*"

Sarah turned, lifted Juliet, wrapped her legs around her waist. Juliet was light, like a feather; Sarah leaned her against the wall, her lips trailing down Juliet’s neck, over her breasts, her tongue circling the tip of her left breast. Juliet threw her head back, a moan **** in her throat.

Juliet’s silk dress slid to the floor. Beneath it was nothing but velvety white skin and a wetness that glistened with excitement. Sarah knelt, set Juliet on the bed, spread her legs. Juliet’s scent of lust filled the room, like the perfume of summer nights. Slowly, patiently, Sarah traced her lips over Juliet’s inner thigh, her tongue sliding over her sensitive skin until Juliet’s fingers caught Sarah’s hair and pulled her to her.

Sarah’s tongue slid inside Juliet, slow, deep, like the waves of age. Juliet arched her body, her back rising from the bed. “Sarah... *mon amour*... more... ”

Sarah inserted two fingers inside her, her tongue working at the same time. Juliette trembled, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, her climax exploded in her body; her legs locked around Sarah’s head, a moan muffled in the pillow.

Then it was Sarah’s turn. Juliette pulled her onto the bed, like a cat caressing its prey. Her delicate hands moved over Sarah’s body, as if trying to memorize every muscle. Her lips on Sarah’s breasts, on her stomach, between her legs. Sarah moaned; her strength did nothing to control the pleasure. Juliette inserted her fingers inside Sarah, her tongue working at the same time. Sarah placed her hand on Juliette’s head, lifted her hips, and climaxed with a scream that was muffled in Juliette’s arms.

They slept intertwined, skin to skin, breath to breath. Juliette laid her head on Sarah's chest, heard her heart beat; strong, regular, like the drum of love.

"We'll fight again tomorrow," Sarah whispered, her finger tracing Juliette's waistline.

"But tonight..." Juliette smiled, her lips on Sarah's heart, "Tonight it's just you and me, *ma grande Américaine*."

Through the window, the moon shone on their intertwined bodies. Two captains, two lovers, two women; in a city that had just fallen in love.