coppelganger | ic contact; MoM

[That actually gets a genuine laugh out of her, and she tips her head over against the cushion - and onto Sarah's hand.]

As someone who can now look back on her whole life, I'm kind of weirdly jealous of your methods.

[ When Clara's cheek touches her hand, Sarah's fingers twitch the slightest bit in surprise. She's not sure whether it would be worse to pull her hand away or leave it where it is, tucked between Clara's shoulder and her head. ]

Why's that?

[This close, it's clear how still Clara is. No breath comes out against Sarah's hand; she doesn't even blink.]

I think I'd feel more like a person.

[ Sarah bites her bottom lip a few seconds before answering. It's not the same, her situation and Clara's. Not even close. But she knows what it's like to wonder if you're a real person anymore. She knows there are people out there who think she and her sisters aren't people at all, just data to be studied or commodities to be used up and discarded. ]

You're a person. We're all people.

I'm not human.

[She isn't even sure if that part's true. Does a walking corpse still count as whatever it was before? Would it be a bad idea to track down some more vodka?]

You get to feel so much. Even the bad, stupid stuff. It's all... beautiful.

[She reaches up to tap Sarah's pinky, as if she's making a point.]

[ She smiles wryly, watching as Clara taps her pinky. ]

Doesn't always feel beautiful at the time.

But it will, one day. [Another, more emphatic, tap.] There's nothing more human than putting on two different socks, or driving off with your tea still on the roof, or calling your date the wrong name. That's what makes it life! You can get home at night and go, "Oh, today was a day - things happened." And you watch bad telly, and go to sleep, and wake up - that's being human. It's not about how many legs you've got. It's about your experiences.

[Her drunken oration comes to a pause, and she seems to come into focus on Sarah's face, realizing at last who she's boring with her speech. There's a little bit of sadness in her eyes - she'd forgotten for a moment that she wasn't with Cosima.]

[ Sarah takes Clara's hand at the last pinky tap, and moves both their hands away from Clara's face. ]

My problems are a bit more complicated than wearing two different socks, but thanks. And you can still do all of that too, can't you?

[Oh are we holding hands now? Clara follows the movement, sitting up straighter.]

For now. One day I'll forget.

[When her memory is too much for her human body, she means. But surely that's implied, if you're following along.]

... Sorry, I'm usually a much more fun drunk. Some girls on Galsec Seven even got me on a table.

[ Yes? Yes. We are holding hands now. ]

Do you want a drink? I was joking earlier. I've got bourbon and probably wine.

[She thinks about it.

And thinks about it a little bit more.]

Wine would be lovely.

[How much more can she fuck up right now, anyway?]

[ Let's find out! Sarah extracts her hand from Clara's and goes into the small kitchen, where she has a bottle of red wine. She pours Clara some wine and then, after thinking about it for a second, grabs some bourbon for herself. She knows that offering Clara more alcohol is probably not the best course of action here, but hey, she never said she was a role model. ]

Thanks.

[She takes the glass with a little half-crook of her mouth, looking slightly more despondent than when Sarah left. A large sip disappears immediately behind her faded lipstick. Swallowing is a complex process - she has to focus for a moment in order for the reflexes to kick in, but the reward is the familiar warmth of wine in her throat after so many months without it.]

Jesus, that's good. I haven't had a sip since... last November?

Mm—no shit?

[ Sarah fakes a shudder, grinning. Bourbon's her drink of choice, but it's hard to imagine going nearly a year without a single sip of red wine. Clara's a stronger person than she is, maybe. ]

You need to hang out with me more, then.

Maybe I will. Especially if it turns out I can't get this out of my system.

[Which is a distinct possibility - but one she can barely worry about at the moment. She is done.]

Might be drunk forever. Pity.

Hey, on the bright side, you'll have discovered the secret to infinite drunkenness.

[ She tips her glass the slightest bit toward Clara in a cheers before drinking. ]

And all without the liver damage.

[She matches Sarah's gesture, despite having already taken a couple of large sips, and follows it with another one. Apparently, she's not determined to make this wine last, or sip it like a proper lady.]

Do you like women, Sarah?

[Well, that came out of nowhere.]

[ Wow, okay, that sure was a question. Sarah coughs on her bourbon, swallows. ]

I like people. [ That doesn't seem like a real answer, somehow, so she amends, ] Yeah, I like women.

Good. I like liking women. They smell nice, and the sex is better. And they don't get pissy if you want to buy them a beer.

[Another gulp of wine. Jesus Christ, she'd missed the taste.]

But sometimes you forget that they can hurt just as bad.

Yeah. But you'll get through it.

[ Sarah scoots closer to Clara on the couch, tilting her head the slightest bit. Now she's close enough to kiss her, and she's thinking about it, because what the hell. All those points Clara made were true, after all. ]

[Clara's eyes blink into focus, taking in all of the ways Sarah is and isn't like her sisters. Her eyes are harder than Cosima's, and colder than Sarissa's, but there's the same downward curve to her mouth, the same adorable nose. Without the smudged makeup and the messy curls, she could almost be Cosima, and the proximity is enough to make Clara crave. She wants to be home, with her girlfriend's hands on her, with that familiar head of hair against her thigh. Through the growing fog of alcohol, it strikes her as cruel, almost unfair, that something so good had to end over a silly, human lie. It wasn't what she deserved. It wasn't what she was owed.

She leans in, trying not to look at the bow of Sarah's mouth.]

Want to make a really stupid decision with me?

[ In answer, Sarah leans in that last little bit and kisses her. She kisses differently than Cosima, rougher and more urgently. One hand reaches out blindly and feels for the coffee table so she can drop her glass of bourbon, and the other goes up to run through Clara's hair, her touch strangely gentle even in its urgency. ]

Yeah, [ she mumbles against Clara's mouth, because she's been so tired, and she's so lonely, and making stupid decisions is what she does, so why stop now? ]

[Hurt and anger and yearning spark though Clara at the rough contact, and she brings her free hand up to the curve of Sarah's neck as she kisses back. This is a bad idea - a very bad idea - but at the first scrape of nails on her scalp, she's done for. She sucks in a breath, dragging her teeth over Sarah's lip.

Her mouth tastes like wine, and her hair smells like smoke, and she's cold as ice, but everything else about Clara is soft, even behind her tightening fingers. She squirms, her cotton dress rucking up at the thighs as she tries to burrow harder against Sarah, until she can't see the fine hair and the smudged eyeliner, the lack of metal glinting at her nose.]

[ Clara's voice is playing over and over again in her mind. Want to make a really stupid decision with me? She wants to, especially now, touching Clara, kissing her, feeling her pressed up against Sarah. Tearing herself away is so hard, but again she hears—stupid decision—and, fleetingly, she wonders if this will kill any chance Clara and Cosima have to make things right. She can't let herself be responsible for that. She can't. So after several long seconds she pulls back, breathing hard, and says, ]

I want to. [ Her voice is rough, breathless, desperate. ] But I can't. We can't. [ Gently, she puts her hands on Clara's shoulders, not pushing her away, just holding on. ] You know that too, yeah?

ic contact; MoM

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