Chapter Text
Entering the loft, Debbie deposits their bags by the door for Lou to deal with. For now, she slumps on the sofa, arm covering her face, exhaustion flowing through her.
They had just gotten back from an extended beach vacation for an early celebration of the Toussaint anniversary alongside Lou’s birthday. Neither would ever say no to seeing each other in skimpy swimsuits, at the same time, they were trying to stay lowkey after a relatively big job over the winter. It seemed as if Tulum was the right call: they had their daily dose of tacos, tequila, and tits (in no particular order). It has been a fantastic and relaxing holiday, but they also miss home. It was time to get Lou away from the monkey and lizards, otherwise Debbie would’ve had to buy extra plane tickets. As much as she adores Lou, she hates paying for things.
Lou is currently busy doing their laundry, complaining about all the sand that somehow but predictably accumulated while Debbie scrolls through her iPad lazily. She’s hungry for fine dining, some culture, and a teeny tiny theft. She suggests a restaurant and a play and Lou distractedly agrees. Truth be told, she’d say yes even if her attention wasn’t elsewhere.
It isn’t until they are two drinks in during dinner that Lou asks what they were going to see. Heaven forbid it’s Hamilton. (Debbie would be offended at the suggestion of a musical.)
“Got us tickets to All About Eve with that redhead-now-blonde actress. We must have seen something of hers together by now. I read that she wears the same fur coat Bette had in the movie. We can steal it afterwards since today’s the last show. Why not, right? It won’t be missed.”
Lou, who rarely loses her composure, spits her drink out after Deb stops talking and sees who their mark is on her phone.
“Lou, what the hell! What’s wrong with you?”
“Uh, well…” Lou chokes out.
“What is it?”
“Seems as if you’re planning yet another con around an ex. First time for me, though.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Huh. Guess I’m surprised this hasn’t happened more often, to be honest.”
“Oh, honey. I’m not the slutty one between the two of us.”
Debbie attempts to look appalled, but knows Lou is stating a fact. Sky is blue. Debbie’s kinda slutty.
They’re quiet for a few moments, absorbing the implications this new detail has on the plan. They could use it to their advantage. In the meantime, Debbie has other concerns.
“So…”
“So?”
“How exactly did she top you? She’s short, Lou.”
“Who says she topped?” Lou grumbles, defensive, which has Debbie snorting.
“Babe, that’s fucking cute. Now, tell me how.”
Lou rolls her eyes. “You want the full logistics or not? I can draw diagrams if you so wish, princess.”
“Oh, pretty please, won’t you?” Debbie playfully bats her lashes, before smacking Lou’s arm. “Just a summary, asshole. C’mon, we’ve got an ex to indirectly steal from,” she urges, getting ready to leave.
“If you must know, I have knees and I used them,” Lou shrugs simply.
At this, Debbie sat back down and full-body cackles, delighted at this new insight into her partner and her past outside of their time together. Lou smiles that cheesy way she does with the puppy eyes – Debbie laughing is always a sight to behold.
They get to the theatre and it isn't long ‘til Debbie is positively captivated by the performance. She hasn’t even tried anything indecent, much to Lou’s amusement and disappointment. Debbie is operating on pure, unadulterated curiosity – perhaps a sprinkle of jealousy – instead of the usual determination to pull off a job flawlessly all because she loves Lou and wants to know her more. She is likely cataloguing questions like ‘Why Vivienne? What they were like together? How did things end?’ Lou thinks it’s pointless since Vivienne is in the past, but she would follow the Ocean to the ends of the earth. Or at the very least to Broadway tonight.
The scene comes up with their target to acquire. With eyebrows raised, Lou leans over her seat. “Interesting. Red has never really been your colour, Deborah.” She flinches as soon as she stops talking; she will pay for this comment somehow later. Could be tonight, could be a decade from now.
“Oh, yeah? And you think it suits her better?” The rhetorical question is asked with a glare.
“That’s – I didn’t say that…” Lou stammers, back already aching at the thought of sleeping anywhere but hers and Debbie’s bed tonight. Plus the rest of the month, if she knew her wife at all.
The show ended and they have made their way towards the backstage to stall Vivienne from getting into her dressing room. Around their necks are shiny passes that say GUEST and how Debbie procured them is beyond Lou, but she has always been a force to be reckoned with. What she wants, she gets.
“Go, hurry. She should be coming this way soon.”
“See you in a bit. Get your flirt on with your ex, see if you still got it. Distract her while I steal some shit.”
“Of course I still got it, we are literally married. Also, ’some’? Jailbird, you said one fur coat! I’m not using my money for bail,” Lou stage-whispers, exasperated that she’s being ignored, Debbie already deep in the adjacent hallway.
Vivienne is walking in her direction now and while Lou doesn’t get nervous anymore, her palms sweating is pretty close to the foreign feeling. “Viv, hi.”
“Miller? Hey! I thought that was you. How the hell are you? What are you doing here? Oh no,” sensing mischief right away. “What are the chances this visit will end innocently? It’s been years, Lulu.”
Lou winces. She was not ready for this blast from the past mingling with her present. “I saw that you were in town, thought I’d come see a show and congratulate you on a successful run.”
Vivienne starts to smile, but years with Lou informs her response. She crosses her arms. “Yeah, okay. Cut the shit. What is going on?”
Lou sags, giving in. “I meant what I said, but why don’t we go for a walk? If you happen to spot a hot brunette, about my height, acts like she owns the place, let me know.”
Debbie walks confidently, which is 98% the key to not getting caught, and she’ll never reveal the 2% of that equation. Peeking into dressing rooms and supply closets, she finally spots the one she needs. “Waaay too much glitter in here,” she observes to herself. She’ll have Lou scrub her down thoroughly tonight. She unwraps a lollipop she took from Vivienne’s various drawers, and rifles through the selection of potential additions to her wardrobe. She takes her time, knowing how things will unfold. She checks her watch, knowing company should arrive any minute now. She considers a silk slip. Lou would like this…
They walk around backstage searching for a felon, Lou having confessed what’s going on at this point.
“Are you fucking with me? You are a terrible con. Why confess to your mark?” Vivienne laughs, not really expecting an answer.
“Wish I was. Anything else is a less painful conversation than this. Sorry we’re meeting again under these circumstances.”
Vivienne seems okay with it, she has no personal or legal attachment to the iconic garment. Replicas exist for various reasons.
“I’ll find a replacement… or lie my way out of it. No big deal.” What she doesn’t say out loud is her curiosity to meet the infamous Ocean that has Lou ‘cool as a cucumber’ Miller stressed out like this. Must be true love.
They find the woman with a lollipop in her mouth (lord knows where she got that from), looking through racks of clothes.
“Hi, baby,” grinning as if she’s right where she’s supposed to be. “You took too long to find me.” She eyes Vivienne, acknowledging her presence. “You don’t mind, do you?” Debbie asks, already knowing Lou folded like a house of cards.
The only way to con a con is to tell the truth.
Vivienne sighs, not really having much of a choice. “Knock yourself out. Do either of you want a drink?”
Lou expected Debbie to size Vivienne up, which was an accurate assumption. What she did not see coming was the brief but unmistakable seductive glint present as well.
(Looks like she gets to sleep in the bed, after all. They just have an extra bedmate for the night.)
“Nah, I’m done here. Let’s go home,” wrapping a hand around Lou’s neck, scratching the back of her head. She turns to the actress. “You coming?”
The invitation seems clear enough to Vivienne. She scoffs, “Multiple times, I hope. It’s the least you could do after stealing from me.”
“In that case, should we make it a party and bring the entire costume department, too?”
“Fuck off,” Vivienne cracks up, already at ease.
It’s going to be a great night.