A/N: This was supposed to have plot, once upon a time. But then I dropped the story and forgot what I had planned. Oh well, at least we all get to finally see Amanda. Have fun.
“You’re not trying to take off with the booty, are you?” a sleepy voice demands in the silence of the night.
A few feet away, a dark haired woman freezes in mid step, turning big, innocent eyes to the smaller woman on the bed. “Ehm…Would I do that?”
The blonde snorts and sits up, brushing wayward hair out of her face. “In a heartbeat,” she informs her companion.
Immediately the other puffs up in fake indignation, trying to hide the velvet bag full of jewellery behind her back. “Why, I have never…”
Interrupting, Summer glares tiredly, “Paris, Amanda.”
Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, the younger of the two immortals looks rather sheepish.
“London. Venice. New York. Do I have to go on?”
“No?” More a question than a statement, unsure and properly cowed now. Amanda does not take orders from anyone and she’s pretty sure the older woman won’t take her head just for pissing her off but she’s not above making her hurt
for it. And, as a general rule, Amanda dislikes pain of any kind. Unless she’s the one inflicting it. Or it has to do with role playing games. Or a good fight. But she doesn’t like unnecessary
violence. Which Summer is not above using.
So, with a shrug, she hands over the bag of booty and throws herself on the bed. “It’s not like you need it,” she tries to defend her attempted escape. “I’m sure you got a whole cave full of shiny things somewhere hidden away.”
Her tone is light but she sneaks a peek at the other woman, just in case. If there really is such a cave…well, Amanda loves a good challenge, doesn’t she?
Unfortunately, Summer’s face gives nothing away. She just asks, “Do we leave now or wait till morning?”
Shrugging, the taller of the two offers, “The Gräfin is probably still sleeping off the wine so we should be fine until morning, don’t you think?”
Her answer comes, not from the blonde, but from the sudden sound of a dozen heavy footsteps in the hall outside their rented suite. For a moment both women look at each other wide eyed. Then they both explode into action.
Amanda jumps to her feet to barricade the door with a chair and a small closet while Summer throws on her dress with truly supernatural speed before grabbing the things they cannot leave behind (neatly packed away in a single small bag, in case of, well, this) and flings open the window.
Calling for Amanda to move
, she starts climbing outside, cursing her skirts and dainty shoes like a drunk sailor while she’s at it. She hates
dresses. Why can’t emancipation finally happen? Finally, after much flailing and swearing, she’s standing on the narrow sill and looking down. The jump is no trouble for her, but Amanda will probably break a leg, or worse. Damn.
Salvation comes in the form of a late Fiaker, one of the open carriages that are Vienna’s taxis. Pulling the other woman up next to her, Summer points and then counts down from five.
both of them jump, landing perfectly on the passenger bench of the carriage and almost giving the driver and his horses a heart attack.
“Zum Westbahnhof, bitte,” Amanda asks with a charming smile as soon as the aging man recovers. If they can make it to the train station, they are home free.
The man nods, still too startled to deny their request and takes off. Behind them, screams and angry curses cut the night to shreds as soldiers come pouring out of the hotel to find their targets lost in the pre-dawn gloom of Vienna in January.
The women laugh, laughing their relief into the world even as they pull the provided blankets over themselves to stay warm.
“God,” Amanda wheezes, “Did you see….?”
Summer nods and giggles, a sound that is entirely unlike her. But Amanda joins her because they have booty, their lives and fun on top of it. The plan went off without a hitch and soon they’ll be sitting on the early morning train out of the city and everything is going to be just wonderful
Under the blankets, Amanda’s hands go wandering, but not, as Summer might believe, for the bag of gold and jewellery the other woman still carries, but for her hand. She finds it finally, takes it in hers, and holds it tight, eyes shining.
Vienna,” she declares, loudly, to be heard over the clattering of hooves and wheels.
Summer has herself under control once more, the giggles already a thing of the past as she starts planning their escape route and then another and finally another, just in case.
But she smiles briefly at Amanda and squeezes her hand back just as tightly.
Oh yes, Amanda loves Vienna.