Work Text:
Carson watched from the upstairs landing as Greta and Jo walked out the front door of the boarding house, on their way to the store to buy smokes. Waited a few moments to make sure they were really gone, before hurrying over to the closed door next to her own.
Knocked tentatively.
“Yeah, whadda ya want?” Jess’s gruff voice carried easily through the timber.
Carson opened the door quietly, peeked around the frame to see Jess lounging on her bed. A book in one hand, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.
Blue eyes lasered in on Carson immediately, the glare on Jess’s face softening as she registered who was at the door.
“She’s not here Shaw. You just missed her.”
Carson edged carefully into the room, and closed the door behind her. Clasped her hands behind her back to stop from fidgeting.
“I… I know.” A breath. “I wanted to… talk… to you… if that’s okay.”
Jess held her gaze for a long, silent moment. Impassive.
Carson was a fraction of a second away from bolting from the room when the shortstop finally spoke.
“Me?”
“Uh, yeah… You.”
“Why the fuck do you wanna talk to me Shaw?” Jess’s brows drew together, her demeanour more curious than irritated.
“I want… I mean… Is it okay if… I… ask you some… things.”
Jess snorted, a wry grin lighting up her face.
“Come on Carson. I know you’ve done the deed with Gill already, you don’t need sex advice from me.”
Carson choked at that, coughing unsteadily. Had to force herself to take several deep breaths before she felt able to school her expression. Levelled a disbelieving glare at the blonde woman now chuckling at her discomfort.
“That’s not… Jesus Jess.”
Jess laughed softly for another moment, before staring intently at the catcher.
“Well, if you’re not looking for advice about how to show a lady a good time, what is it that you’re actually trying to ask me Shaw?”
“I mean… It’s just…” Flustered, Carson stood in the centre of the room. Greta’s room. Feeling overwhelmingly out of her depth, but also so desperately urgently needing to know.
Blue eyes studied her carefully, before the shortstop gestured to Greta’s bed.
“Take a load off Carson. Just breathe for a minute, and then try again.”
Jess always surprised Carson like that. The shortstop was abrupt, frequently gruff, perpetually irritated with something. But if someone needed something… Jess was the first person to notice. The first person to care.
She let that thought settle for a moment. Knew that the blonde would be open to hearing what Carson had to say, and would more than likely give her an honest answer.
Carson took a fortifying breath.
“You know… when we were at the bar. And you and Lupe, you said to me… not everyone is butch.”
“Uh huh. I remember.” The look on Jess’s face let Carson know just how amusing Jess still thought that conversation had been.
“You told me… that mostly women… like us.” Here, Carson gestured helplessly, waving her hand between the two of them, and then around to encompass the house. “That women like us are one of two ways. And you said… Greta is… a…”
“A femme.” Jess interjected, obviously impatient with Carson’s inability to form a proper sentence. “Greta is definitely a femme.”
“And you said that you and Lupe are butch.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Jess stared at Carson, her curiosity brightly evident in blue eyes.
“And then you said… that in most cases a butch will end up with a femme, and…” Another steadying breath. “But you said that I was kinda girly, like Greta. So… how does that work?” A pause. “Do I need to become a… a butch?”
Jess stared silently at Carson for a long moment. Carson felt stuck, like a fly on bug paper. Just waiting to be squashed. Idly Carson wondered if the flies realised they were about to die, in much the same way that she felt she was about to be ridiculed.
And once again the shortstop surprised her.
“This is really bothering you, huh Shaw?” Jess pushed up off her own bed, crossed the distance between them, and sat gently beside Carson. Waiting.
“I’ve just… I’ve been thinking… that I don’t really… fit. I’m not… I’m not really girly. I mean, I wear the dresses and everything, but that’s mostly because… that’s mostly because I kind of… have to.” Quiet. “It’s expected. When you’re married.”
“Mmmm hmm.”
“And, I mean, I love to wear pants when we practice. And I would absolutely wear them to play, if we were allowed.”
“A-fucking-men to that Shaw.”
“But… do I need to start dressing like you and Lupe?”
“Do you want to?”
Carson shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Beverley would pitch a fucking fit.” Jess laughed then, clearly tickled by the image of their chaperone dealing with Carson leaving the house in pants.
“I think maybe…” Carson trailed off, unsure if she was really brave enough to keep going with this.
“Maybe what Shaw?”
The catcher swallowed hard. Her voice small. “I think I might like… to try. Just to see what…”
“To see if it fits for you?”
“Yeah. Yes.” A pause. “To see… what it feels like.”
Jess sat quietly for the length of several breaths. Staring at Carson. Speculative. Then she leapt up off the bed, clapping her hands.
“Alright Shaw. We’re doing this.”
“What, right now?”
“No time like the present. And besides, you can surprise Gill when she gets back from the store.” Jess grinned at Carson, wolfish. “I tell you what, I’ll even make myself scarce for a couple of hours.”
Carson’s heart leapt at the thought of some uninterrupted time with Greta. Inside a house. With a bed.
“You… you would do that for me?”
“You’ve got me intrigued now Shaw. I’m curious to see how this little experiment will work out.”
Jess walked over to the cupboard, rifling through different items until she appeared satisfied with her choices.
Handed the items to Carson, before kneeling down and fetching a pair of brown leather shoes from under the bed.
“You cannot wear my clothes with those godawful shoes you always wear Shaw.”
“Hey!”
“Just stating a fact. Now, I’m going to head to the bathroom. That’ll give you a few minutes to get changed. And I’ll come back to check, okay?”
The blonde smiled at her, reassuring, before ducking quickly out into the hallway.
Carson stared at the clothes in her hands. She recognised the shirt, had seen Jess wear it a number of times.
Sighing, Carson undressed quickly. Slipped on the pants and shirt, and was struggling with how to tuck the shirt in and make it sit right when there was a tap on the door.
“Shaw? You good?”
“You can come in.”
Jess’s eyes widened as she stepped into the room. A moderately pleased look crossing her expressive features.
“Well damn. You actually look okay as a butch Shaw.”
Jess crossed the room, stood in front of Carson, studying her.
“Are you okay if I just… fix a couple things Shaw?”
“Uh, sure… I mean… go ahead.”
Jess reached both hands out around Carson’s neck. Flipped up the shirt collar, and then folded it back into place neatly. Grabbed the shirt just above the waist of the pants, and tugged down a little.
Carson barely breathed. Other than Greta or Charlie, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so close to someone in this way. It was oddly intimate.
“Can you tuck the shirt in a bit more?”
Carson stuck her hand into the pants, struggling to adjust the shirt.
Jess chortled. “Those are a bit firmer on you than on me, hey?” At Carson’s outraged look, Jess threw her hands up. Placating. “Relax, I’m not saying you’re fat or anything Shaw. You just have a different body shape to me. It’s all that squatting you do at the plate.” A pause. “Try unbuttoning the pants, and start again.”
After a lot of fiddling around, and a few more adjustments from Jess, Carson put the shoes on. Stood looking at herself in Greta’s mirror. They’d wrestled her hair up into a loose tail high up on her head, fit one of Lupe’s newsboy caps over it. Lupe had delivered the cap at Jess’s request. Taken one look at Carson and snorted in amused disgust, before wandering away again.
“So Shaw, whadda ya think?” Jess stood behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“Honestly?”
“No, I want you to lie to my face. Jesus Christ Shaw, of course honestly.”
“I’m not… I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“Do you feel good?”
“I mean… it’s comfortable. I kinda wish I could get away with wearing pants like this. But…”
Through the closed door they heard the front door slam open. Heard Jo’s voice booming through the house.
“Well shit Shaw, times up. You wanna get changed real quick? I can run interference, stop Greta from coming up here for a minute.”
Carson was tempted. She was so confused by her reflection right now, she didn’t really know what to think.
But she had done this for a reason, and so it made sense for her to at least get Greta’s reaction.
“No. Thanks though. I kinda want to ask Greta what she thinks.”
Jess snorted, an amused glint in blue eyes. “I kinda wanna hear what she thinks too. You’ll need to give me an update tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
They smiled at one another, a rare feeling of solidarity between them that wasn’t related to playing baseball.
“Jess?”
“Hmmmn?”
“Thanks… for this. I really… appreciate it. You taking the time to…”
“No problem Shaw. It’s actually been fun. And now I’m gonna go set the scene. Let Greta know you’re up here, and that I won’t be back for a while. Let’s just make sure you’re outta here by midnight, okay?”
“Are you sure Jess?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”
One blue eye dropped into a wink, and Jess touched the brim of her cap in salute as she closed the door behind her.
Carson rushed over the door connecting her room and Greta’s. Listened at the door for any sign of Shirley, before quietly turning the lock.
And then once again found herself standing in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell she was doing. And how terrible of an idea it really was.
Her heart almost jumped clear out of her chest when there was a quiet tap on the door, Greta’s voice calling out her name.
Carson swallowed hard before calling out softly. “Come in.”
Greta poked her head cautiously around the door, eyes widening comically when she caught sight of Carson. She ducked into the room quickly, and took the time to quietly close the door. Turn the lock.
“What… is this Shaw?” Her expression intrigued, with a hint of… something else that Carson couldn’t quite make out.
“Did… did Jess talk to you?”
“She came up to me with this gleeful expression on her face, and she told me she’s going out and to expect her back around midnight.” Greta paused, looking at Carson. “And she might have mentioned that she’d left a surprise for me in the room.”
“Oh.” Carson could not suppress the pang of disappointment. She’d kind of hoped that Jess would explain the whole situation, so she didn’t need to.
“I figured the surprise was you. I did not expect…” Greta waved her hand in an up and down motion, indicating Carson’s body. “...this.”
“I…”
“I’m impressed Shaw.”
“Wait, you are?”
“It’s not too often I get a nice surprise like this.”
“It’s a nice surprise?”
“Mmmm hmmn.” Greta was focused on Carson, her tongue making its way to the side of her mouth. Carson felt a tingle low in her belly, before the anxious feeling made its presence known once again.
“Greta, wait. I…”
“What brought this on? Did I miss something?”
“No, you didn’t…” Carson groaned softly, completely at a loss for how to explain this to Greta. “You didn’t miss anything. I just… I wanted to… I thought I should…” A frustrated breath. “I just needed to see what it was like. To see if it… fit for me.”
“And what do you think?”
“I don’t know yet. I look so strange.” Carson turned back towards the mirror, once again startled by how different she looked. “What do you think?”
“Hubba hubba hubba.”
Carson really tried, but she couldn’t suppress the wince at that. Watched in the mirror as the realisation flowed across Greta’s expressive features, as her smile collapsed.
Greta reached out a hand towards Carson in silent appeal.
“I’m so sorry Shaw. I didn’t remember…”
Carson turned back to face Greta, shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.”
“Greta…”
“No Carson, it’s not. I should have thought about that. And I don’t want you to think that I was being insincere.”
Carson couldn’t help another wince at that. Remembering the way that Greta had flirted with that guy in front of her. Deliberately.
Greta’s face a study in concern as brown eyes fixed on Carson’s face. Almost like she could read the catcher’s thoughts. The redhead stepped forward, reaching a hand out again… but stopping short of clasping Carson’s hand.
Carson closed the distance between them, and laced their fingers together.
“I’m so sorry Carson. I was hurt and angry at the things you had said, and I acted…” A sigh. “Let’s be honest here, I was an asshole.”
“I was hardly blameless either. I still… I’m still ashamed of… I mean… I shouldn’t have said… the normal… thing.”
“Nope. That sucked.” Greta smiled at her, warm like April sunshine. “We both screwed up Shaw. Lucky we got over ourselves.” The redhead lifted their joined hands to her mouth, deposited a kiss on the back of Carson’s hand. A smudge of red left behind.
Carson felt her breath hitch, a warmth bloom in her belly.
Looking down, she spotted the unfamiliar pants, the leather shoes.
“Greta?”
“Hmmn?”
Brown eyes were staring at her. Fond. Expectant.
“I look stupid, don’t I?”
“Oh no Carson. You definitely do not look stupid.” Greta let go of Carson’s hand, and did a slow circle around the catcher. Carson could almost feel the intensity of Greta’s gaze on every part of her body. Tried desperately hard not to fidget in place like a child. “You look hot, chickadee. Those pants are… a good look on you.”
Carson fidgeted some more as Greta let the silence draw out. Just looking at Carson.
“Greta, come on. I can hear the but in your voice.”
“There’s no but Shaw. You look hot. End of story.”
“But…”
“Carson. Honey. You look great, honest.” A pause. “I don’t think you feel great though.”
Ah, there it was. Carson couldn’t begrudge it though, because Greta was right. It didn’t sit well with her.
“How do you feel Shaw?”
“Like a kid dressing up in Daddy’s clothes.”
“And I’m guessing that’s not the feeling you were going for when you started…” Greta waved her hand around, flicked her fingers between them. “...this.”
“No.” Exasperated. “I like how comfortable it is, don’t get me wrong.” Carson tilted her head, a lop-sided shrug. “It’s just… not me.”
“It’s not.” Greta smiled at her, soft and open, and Carson wanted to fall into the peace of that smile and never leave. “It’s a great look for you, but it’s not… your look.”
“I think… that’s my problem Greta. I don’t know what… my look… is. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be.”
“Hmmmmn.”
Greta took her hand, led her to the bed. Sat down beside Carson, one knee drawn up on the covers so she could face the catcher.
“I’m just… trying to… figure all this out, Greta.” Plaintive.
“I know Carson. But you know… you don’t need to be a particular way… for me. I l…” Greta paused. Shook her head slightly. “I like you just the way you are Carson. If you want to play around and experiment with different things then I am all for it. I like this… thing you’ve got going on tonight. Like, a lot.” She raised her eyebrows at Carson, a lecherous smirk stretching red lips. “But honey… I don’t need you to be any particular way, okay? You’re not supposed to be anything. I just want you to be you.”
Sometimes… sometimes Carson just couldn’t quite believe that Greta was real. That she was an actual living breathing human that Carson got to spend time with because…
“You’re so perfect Greta.”
Greta threw her head back and laughed at that, brown eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “Oh Carson, I am so far from perfect and you know it. It’s cute of you to say though.”
They smiled at each other then, in the peace and the quiet. And Carson felt her heart expand just a little bit more. Felt it tangle with Greta’s just a little bit tighter, as she reached out and grabbed Greta’s hand. Let her fingers do the same.
“So Shaw… we’ve got a few hours until I gotta kick you outta here. What do you propose that we do to kill the time?” Greta licked her lips, her red red lips that curved up into a smirk.
“I mean… I’ve got a few ideas.” Carson shrugged, trying her absolute hardest to remain casual. To seem completely unconcerned.
“Oh yeah? Wanna share your ideas?”
Greta flipped over Carson’s hand. Used the fingers of her other hand to trace patterns on Carson’s palm. To draw a line up Carson’s wrist, and feel the pulse beating suddenly, wildly under the skin.
When Carson’s breath stuttered, Greta grinned at her. Wild and wicked and Carson didn’t have capacity to play this game any longer.
Lunged forward and just grabbed Greta’s face and kissed her. Kissed her like the sun wouldn’t rise in the sky tomorrow if she didn’t, kissed her like there’d be no oxygen left to breathe if she didn’t. Kissed her like she meant everything to Carson.
Greta let out a startled sound, which quickly morphed into a contented murmur.
Now that they were here… now that they’d been given this opportunity… Carson didn’t want to waste a second. She was so eager to touch Greta, to feel her skin… to make her come apart, the way that Greta had so effortlessly made Carson fall apart in Kenosha.
Let her hands trail from Greta’s jaw down to her chest. Started unbuttoning Greta’s blouse.
Greta smiled in approval. “Oh, confident Shaw is back.”
“She sure is.”
Carson made quick work of Greta’s blouse, peeling it off her arms and flinging it away.
Greta grumbled at that, but then Carson’s hands found their way to her breasts and Greta didn’t seem too concerned about it any longer. Simply whispered Carson’s name, and pressed herself closer to the catcher.
Carson leaned forward to kiss Greta again, letting one hand travel down to Greta’s side, found the zipper on her skirt. Tugged it down deliberately. The noise of the zipper descending shot a pulse of delight through Carson. She might actually get to see all of Greta, and just the thought of it made her feel almost faint with delight.
“Greta?”
“Mmmn?”
“I wanna see you.”
“I’m right here Carson.”
“No, I mean… I wanna see all of you.”
They hadn’t really, in Kenosha, because… it was a convent, and Greta was still so careful. Despite the room to themselves and the locked door.
And all of that was still true, but Carson wanted it. She wanted so bad to just be able to look at Greta, to see every part of that long, luscious body that drove her to absolute distraction.
And then touch every part of her.
“Carson…”
“Look, I know. I know, okay? I just… I really wanna…”
“It’s not…”
“Safe. I know. But… Jess won’t be coming back. I locked both doors. Surely we can…”
“I don’t know Carson.”
Carson bit her lip. Was about to give in, to let Greta take control of the situation again. But then she caught a glimpse of her outfit again. Remembered that tonight she was being butch. Tonight she was going to be in charge.
“We’re gonna be careful, okay? But Greta… I’m going to see you.” She injected every bit of sincerity she could muster, felt her voice deepen. Saw Greta’s surprised reaction. Registered her sudden intake of breath, the way her pupils dilated.
Okay then. They were doing this.
Carson tugged Greta to her feet.
“Take off your shoes.”
Greta bit her lip. Stepped out of her heels, and nudged them aside with one foot.
Carson slid her hands across Greta’s hips, dipping her thumbs under the top of the skirt. Used the leverage to ease the skirt over Greta’s hips until it dropped to the floor around her ankles.
Greta stood there in her underthings. Breathing heavily, brown eyes glazed. Her lips slightly open as she stared at Carson. Waiting.
Carson knelt down. Ran her hands up the sides of Greta’s thighs, before grasping one of her stocking clips. Opened it with a deft twist, before making swift work of the second.
Looking up, she met Greta’s eye. Issued another instruction. “Turn around.”
Greta complied instantly.
Carson rewarded her by running her hands up and down Greta’s thighs. Releasing the rear stocking clips. And slowly… slowly…rolled the silk stockings down each leg. When she reached Greta’s ankles, she grasped them gently. Indicated that the redhead should lift her foot. The stockings joined Greta’s blouse and skirt across the room.
Greta’s garter belt was next. Carson reached her fingers behind the belt, caressed the skin of Greta’s back, before popping open the clasps. The belt too was thrown across the room.
Now Greta stood before Carson, clad in nothing but her bra and underwear.
Carson stood back up, and indulged herself in the feel of Greta’s smooth skin. Let her hands trail over the planes of Greta’s back, the curve of her hips, the length of her thighs.
She popped open the clasp of Greta’s bra, then gently grasped the redhead’s shoulder. Guided her to face Carson.
And here… with Greta’s bra hanging loosely in front of her… here Carson’s courage failed her.
She bit her lip, feeling like a kid caught red-handed with the cookie jar.
“Greta, I… I just.. I…”
“Jesus Carson. Please don’t stop.”
Carson never expected Greta to actually… beg her to keep going. Wasn’t prepared for the hazy, desperate look in brown eyes, the way that Greta couldn’t seem to take a deep breath.
She felt a shot of heat hit her straight between the legs, felt a warm tugging deep in her belly.
Straightened her shoulders.
She could do this. For Greta.
Reaching up, Carson slipped her thumbs beneath the shoulder straps of Greta’s bra. Slid them down the taller woman’s arms until gravity took care of the rest. Carson toed the bra over to the pile of clothes gathering by Jess’s bed, not wanting to step on it and ruin it.
She took a deep breath. Looked up at Greta.
And couldn’t look away.
“Oh my god…” Breathless.
“Carson…”
Greta reached for her and Carson joyfully complied, reaching up to kiss Greta. Relished that Greta’s lack of shoes meant that she didn’t have to strain up quite as far as usual.
She let her hands explore all that smooth, beautiful skin that was now available to her. It was like unwrapping the best birthday present she’d ever received.
Greta hung onto Carson’s shoulders like she was struggling to balance, like Carson was the last solid thing left in the world.
Now there was only one last barrier between Carson and her unimpeded view. Before she could second guess herself, before she could talk herself out of it, Carson grasped the top of Greta’s underwear. Rolled them down over Greta’s hips, and guided them to the floor, where Greta promptly stepped out of them.
She was… a work of art. Carson had seen paintings by Italian masters. Okay, Carson had seen pictures of paintings by Italian masters. Greta surpassed them all, and Carson felt her heart beat erratically in her chest. Wondered if she’d survive this experience, or if she’d keel over and die. In heaven. Or Greta’s arms. They seemed one and the same to Carson.
This was it. This was her moment. Carson’s moment to make Greta hers. To make her come undone, and think of nothing but Carson.
Carson leaned down, pulled back the covers on Greta’s bed. Guided Greta down onto the sheets. Carson kicked off her shoes. Then without preamble climbed on top of Greta, fitting herself between the redhead’s legs.
Greta reached up. Pulled the cap off Carson’s head, and threw it across the room to land on Jess’s bed. Tugged the tie out of Carson’s hair, so that it fell around her face.
“That’s better. I want to be able to…”
And Greta grabbed two fistfuls of Carson’s hair. Dragged her down into a kiss that left no room for uncertainty. It was ragged and messy and downright filthy, and Carson felt Greta growl into her mouth.
Her brain almost shorted out.
Not breaking the kiss, Carson shifted to one side. Lifted one knee over to the side of Greta’s hip, leaving the other between the redhead’s legs. Balancing on one elbow, Carson let her other hand roam. It found the curves and dips of Greta’s body without effort, and Carson relished in the muted sounds Greta muffled in her mouth. She let her palm rest on Greta’s breast, felt the nipple harden instantly under her touch. Went with the movement as Greta arched her back. The motion pressed her knee into Greta’s centre, and Carson felt Greta freeze. Was aware that Greta’s breathing stopped for a long moment.
Dragging her mouth away from Greta’s lips, Carson kissed her way along Greta’s jawline. Down the column of her neck. Followed the line of her sternum.
She let her tongue trace a decreasing spiral around Greta’s breast, mirroring the movement with the fingers of her other hand. Felt the skin pebble as she reached the centre. Drew the nipple into her mouth.
A sound from Greta made her raise her eyes without breaking contact. Greta had clamped one hand over her mouth, was desperately trying to remain quiet.
Carson wished it wasn’t necessary. Wished so hard that she could take Greta somewhere that she could make as much noise as she needed to. Wished she could shout out Greta’s name, tell the whole world how Greta made her feel.
But, in the meantime... For now, Carson would do what she could to make it easier for Greta. She positioned herself above Greta once more, guided the redhead’s mouth to hers. Hoped the seal of their lips would mute the sounds of Greta’s pleasure.
Explored Greta’s mouth with her tongue even as her hand found the warmth between Greta’s legs, drew her fingers through slick heat. Carson oriented herself for a moment. Traced the folds and hollows that made up Greta’s centre. Before she found the bundle of nerves that made Greta gasp into her mouth. Stroked and stroked with her fingers, and her tongue in Greta’s mouth, until the redhead was writhing under her. Until she was gasping into Carson’s mouth. Until she tightened and tightened and finally shuddered, biting down on the catcher’s lip until Carson saw stars.
She kept up a gentle exploration, stroking gently. Relishing the aftershocks that make Greta tremble.
Until she finally pulled back from Greta’s mouth.
The redhead looked… like the most beautiful thing Carson had ever seen. Drowsy and sated, a smile tugging the corner of her lips up. Like she’d just heard the best news in the world.
Carson could look at her like this forever.
She snuggled into Greta’s neck, wrapping an arm around the redhead’s middle. Conscious of her thigh between the taller woman’s legs.
Happy to just exist in this moment of peace.
After a long, silent moment, Greta’s eyes sharpened. A predatory look gleamed bright in the brown.
“Carson?”
“Yes Greta?”
“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”
Carson’s last sensibly conscious thought was that she was going to need to wash Jess’s clothes. The shortstop was not going to be impressed.