Posted: May 2004
Title: Girls
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPS (Femmeslash)
Characters: Liv/Cate/Miranda
Rating: R
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Warnings: Attempted humor, remarks that might not be too kind to their male co-stars
Summary: Oscar night 2004 (written in advance), copycat tats, and the VIP ladies room
Author's Notes: Because someone needed to…

*****

As usual, Dom's steel-gray eyes sparked with mischief. The quieter, gentler (usually) Billy evidenced the same. Liv waved but stayed where she was, and remembered another get-together nearly three years previous that had begun with the same looks from those two. Tonight, they wore shiny tailored suits that were expensive enough to say they'd come up in the world. Enthusiasm bubbled from every pore over the gathering of long-lost friends, once again. Liv wondered if the times this could possibly happen again was numbered, then thought better of it. Given the following they'd garnered from both new and old fans, it was sure to be many, and often. Indeed, what would Christmas be without them?

Liv took her turn upon the red carpet, for once alone; the spangles on her filmy mauve-colored dress reflected hundreds of flashes. She watched indulgently while Elijah performed his usual and customary greetings and jumped like a testosterone-injected puppy all over every fellowship member. Finally he was starting to look like an adult, she noted. He had shown real depth as Frodo. They all owed him bigtime for that. In every other aspect though… she felt her lips tugging up ruefully, in spite of herself. What the hell had she been thinking? Thank god for Viggo. Her lips quirked up more. She wished he was here, but no, he was tucked away in Soho, doing what he loved better. How they had practiced their Aragorn-and-Arwen chemistry, as calculated as a science experiment. Viggo simply refused to lose his head over any woman, even for an hour. Aragorn had waited sixty-seven years for the woman he loved. Viggo would wait around however long for that special person.

Startling her and making her jump out of her reverie, Liv caught a flash of green eyes and blond hair before she was spun, picked up, and whirled. Her gangly, loose-limbed form fit nicely against Sean. There was one man she'd been sorry to see walk. That was how she still thought of it, job or no job. She clung for a minute to his powerful form and then slithered down, determined not to turn into a simpering idiot. Even though the man was nearly twice her age, he never got within ten feet of her where she didn't get hot. She looked into his face, seeing a few new crags, but didn't mind. Before she could pursue this line of thought too long, she was out-shown. Ah, well. It was going to happen; it always did.

And there he was, Orli/Orlando, kissing her like they were lovers, squeezing her ass, and then away. Liv noted she was first. Orli, she was good enough friends with to know, always left the best for last. Nice. Better to gracefully bow out of this and just watch. ‘Join the crowd, Liv,' she though. Every eye around her was turned to him, outstanding in his tux and sneakers in a certain way that no other man was. Entertainers could be so entertaining.

So she caught up with the rest. A long, fatherly hug with Ian; a great big bear hug from John; a carefully correct but warm one with Sean, the other one, while Christine looked on and smiled at her. Liv was never less than amazed at the woman's lack of jealousy. She couldn't say the same of herself. "Sean, we all know that statue belonged to you," Liv blurted out fervently. No doubt she was at least the thirtieth person to say so tonight. He just shrugged and smiled a typical ‘oh well' grin.

Liv threaded through the crowd, talking to anyone who engaged her. Periodically she threw questing glances to all four corners. She'd seen them earlier; surely they hadn't both bailed. Nearly an hour passed in chatter and ever-present laughter; it was a reunion of like souls, of those who took a piece of Rings home to stay. Finally, Liv spotted the two blond-haired, elegant women she sought. They stood side-by-side, backs to her, attired in floor length dresses, Cate in white and Miranda in sea green. Regardless of what had been said over the years of her raven looks, Liv almost didn't want to stain their golden presence with her darkshadow coloring.

Eventually, in the familiar gesture of tossing of her fair mane back, Miranda spied her and immediately brightened. She waved and made a little "come here" motion. When Liv approached, flashbulbs broke out anew. The trio leaned in for a three-way kiss. Miranda's lips touched hers first, then they both landed on Cate's.

"There," thought Liv. "Maybe that will upstage ‘Lijah." Or maybe not. She almost looked around to see whose leg he was humping now, but restrained herself. As the crowd thinned, she'd probably be seeing more than she wanted to. Already she could tell it was going to go all night here, for those not off pursuing more private gatherings.

Cate winked over at Liv, and said, almost in an aside, "Powder our noses?" Oh yes, she would take her up on that. Miranda trailed three steps behind as Cate adopted a "gotta pee" stride and pulled Liv along with her.

The VIP ladies' room was something of a sanctuary. "The Red Havens," Miranda dubbed it, looking around at the blood-colored velvet and chintz covering the carefully strewn, living room-like area's furniture and walls. Anything resembling a functional bathroom was hidden from view behind one of the sound-muffling walls.

Cate sat herself down on a plushy bench with queenly grace; Miranda plopped into a chair opposite. Cate's sandals hit the floor and she slid her dress up with absolutely no preamble. "Who's first?"

"Good Lord, Cate," sputtered Liv. "What the hell? You trying to get some action?"

Cate snorted. "No, nitwit. Or as Miranda would say, ‘fuckwit.' Show me your Three. You too, horsemistress."

"Oh, now I'm the misth-tresth," lisped Miranda, in a very bad acknowledgement of their beloved co-stars.

"Could have been worse… I didn't ask if you cared for a fag."

Liv took her cue. "Care for lots of them, and I've even screwed a few, but we still can't smoke in here, dammit. Oh, well. I quit."

"Yes, but do you have any?" Miranda prodded.

"What, fags?"

"No, dummy! Smokes." Ok, enough already.

"Of course."

"Good. I have a feeling we'll need them."

The Elvish Three, since they had called themselves the same, was to be tattooed somewhere on their bodies before the third installment was released. Miranda had had hers inked before any of them even left NZ, which made sense since it was her idea. Not the most original, perhaps, but at least she'd thought of something. Miranda's tat was on the inside of her right ankle. All she had to do was cross her legs, and there it was. Liv remembered having stared at it for nearly an hour when Miranda had sheepishly unveiled it. In fact, Liv had been the first person she told. Not wanting to be jeered off the set by the Nine for copy-catting, or shot down by Cate for being juvenile, she had hid her rash "purchase" for nearly a month. Liv was entranced. After a cursory once over, Cate admitted liking it. Their guys hadn't been pissed, as they'd feared. They collectively took it as a compliment. All that was left was for Cate and Liv to get theirs.

Liv had waited till she got back to the States. It was on the back of her right shoulder, and had been done in a wave of home-sickness. ‘Fellowship-sickness,' as she related to the other women.

"Yeah, they're a bunch of sick bastards, aren't they?" tittered Miranda. She just wasn't going to let up with the remarks; Liv could see that.

"Oh, you love it and you know it," retorted Cate. "Just watching them…sometimes I thought of crawling under a rock. Remember when Lij talked Astin and Billy into streaking up the Row that one night?" Even Cate was giggling now.

Liv had particularly vivid, or could she say lurid, recollections of that. The other two caught her cringing. Distinctly, Miranda winked at Cate who turned her hardest truth-serum stare on Liv and demanded, "What's this? Look at you… Come on Livvy, spill it.

Liv held her silence.

"Oh, come on," squawked the abettor across the aisle, tapping Liv on the side of the head, something everyone knew she hated.

"Uh-uh."

"We'll get it out of her later," Cate said in an obvious aside to her cohort.

"Yeah, the haughty Elf princess will be dethroned," promised the other blond.

"Ooo, I'm so scared!"

"You should be!"

"Ladies, ladies," interjected Cate, who seemed to be the only one with an agenda. "What did we come here to do?"

"See and be seen?" asked Liv semi-sarcastically.

"Clean up the awards," put in Miranda. "Those stupid fucks don't know what they're talking about. Obviously a bunch of Yanks."

Liv ignored that, a reference to no individual actors being nominated. "Get drunk; fall down. And I think we cleaned up pretty well."

"Get drunk and fuck!" This from Miranda. "What are you thinking?"

"What about you? Your mind's always in the gutter. I guess that's what happens when you've been straddling a horse since birth."

Cate cleared her throat. "Do either of you twits care to see this artistic masterpiece that's now a permanent fixture on my body?"

"Yeah…" Liv had nearly forgotten why they'd even come in here in the first place.

"You mean you're not sitting there with your dress up, just because?" jibed the ever-mouthy Aussie chick. "Dammit, Cate. I thought maybe you'd sit on the sink for me tonight. Once more for old times, huh?"

It was Cate's turn to blush. Liv had distinct memories of that incident, too. Boy, that had been quite a day, alright. First a girlie threesome over lunch, and then being double-teamed by a couple of horny hobbits… It seemed to Liv they all just fell into things like that in NZ. Fell into bed, or fell to the ground if they happened to be outside, or their clothes just sort of ‘fell off…' It had been part of the total experience. Just a tiny part, but so fun to reminisce about. One thing she'd learned about Cate along the way: she'd never back down from a challenge. Apparently that hadn't changed. Miranda's words were innocuous enough but her tone was suggestion itself.

"Well, come on then," replied Cate to Miranda in an arch tone. She stood, her skirt floating back into place. "Are you coming?" Miranda smirked, and jumped up.

"You too, Liv." That was a command if she'd ever heard one.

Liv wobbled a bit as she got to her feet. Now, this was unexpected. The paradox of Cate-the-queen-bee-the-porno-queen pulled Liv along into the real washroom. Unfortunately it was not abandoned. She and Miranda huddled together, unsure of what to do now. They couldn't just walk in, and then walk right back out. It would look odd. As usual, the instigator was collected enough to not even pause. She whipped out a hairbrush and went to work. Liv was flustered, but followed her lead, applying a fresh coat of deep plum lipstick. Artless Miranda just propped one hip against the countertop and chattered away like they'd been in mid-conversation about her latest project, which was actually quite a brilliant move.

The facilities were rather busy, it turned out. While they'd been mostly alone out in the sitting area, there was a steady traffic using the toilets. All that free champagne, Liv supposed. The three of them kept up the chit-chat, waiting, waiting. Five minutes, ten. Finally Liv burst out exasperatedly, "Do you know what they're going to say we're doing in here? We've been gone forever! Would you just whip it out already, Cate?"

Cate turned into a logic professor. "One: We fell in. Two: Considering what ‘they' are likely to be doing in ‘their' bathroom, whatever gets made up about us will be tamer than whatever the tile and porcelain in the men's room get to watch. And, three: Yeah, I could whip it out, but I'd be literally whipping it out, if you catch my meaning." She ended on a very Samwise note.

"What do you mean?" demanded Liv. Her mind managed to churn a larger than normal amount of drivel in the span of three seconds involving strap-ons, botched sex-change operations, uncanny abilities to pee standing up… That couldn't be right. She must've been having a blond moment.

Miranda was staring at Cate in an appraising way. She looked just like Eowyn when she deflected Aragorn's sword. "Well, this I've gotta see." Her eyes darted around. "Ok, we're going in there. She pointed with a head-shake to the far cubicle, larger than the others. "After you, Cate."

After tucking her brush back in her handbag, Cate proceeded in the direction indicated. Miranda followed. When she noticed Liv not moving, she came back and pulled her along.

"What is it with you tonight? We have to drag you every step of the way." Dropping her voice many decibels, she undertoned, "Aren't you even curious about it? She did something naughty, I just know it. Did you see the look in her eyes? She's dying to show us."

Miranda took Liv's arm and started to pull her toward the stall.

"I'm a married woman now," Liv finally blurted.

"So what?" Miranda dashed that to the ground rather effectively. "Doesn't mean you're dead. This is just girlie stuff. It doesn't count. In fact, where is hubby? Aw, couldn't be here tonight? I would have liked to see how he handled the Nine up close…"

She paused, reading something in Liv's face.

"You never told him, did you?"

"No." Liv felt very small and unworthy.

"Well, there you go! If you haven't told him about that stuff yet, then obviously you didn't mean him to know about any of it. If you're keeping secrets, you might as well do whatever tonight and just ‘forget' to tell him. Huh? There's me and Cate, and you and I both know Dom and Billy would tag you again. Or you could get the one that got away, eh?"

At this point Liv didn't know whether to be pissed or horny. She knew she could probably arrange for that, all of it, and get away with it. Was it worth the massive amounts of guilt she'd have to deal with tomorrow?

"Get in here already," came Cate's imperious voice. Miranda and Liv ducked around the door and Liv bolted it after them. Against the wall opposite from where Cate was sprawled on ‘Ye Olde Throne' hunkered a short velvet-covered bench, just large enough for Miranda's and Liv's asses to share, half a cheek each hanging in mid-air.

"Alright, already!" Miranda burst out first. Liv was jostled by Miranda's wiggling around like an overexcited toddler. "What's with all this ‘I'd have to whip it out' business? Show us, for Christ sakes!"

Cate eyed them narrowly, as if she were thinking of backing down. ‘That would be a first,' thought Miranda.

And then, in a wave of slippery silk, ‘slick as a fish' Liv's mind labeled it, Cate pulled up her dress, all the way to her waist this time. Liv and Miranda, having expected this, said nothing, but shared a look of anticipation. Long tanned legs were revealed, and finally, the tiny scrap of ivory satin material and strings Cate had worn as underwear. Liv was at a loss… No tattoos. Where was it? She looked over at the side of her friend's face. From less than a foot away, all she could tell for sure was that the woman's coloring was high, and she was breathing rapidly through her mouth. It was common knowledge Miranda liked girls and boys equally; Liv had been witness to it once too, of course, but had not seen such rampant lust displayed over another female.

"Cate, dear," said Miranda in the voice of infinite patience. "As much as I'd like to rip those off you and eat you out right now--"

"Ssh!" hissed Liv.

"—I just can't do it with you sitting on the john." She pushed her long skirt out of the way and slid off the bench to the floor. "Sit over there, Cate. I'll help you." Miranda's hands skimmed Cate's soft tights, making her shiver.

"Move, Liv."

Cate gathered herself and made the final transfer to the seat occupied by Miranda and Liv's butts till a moment ago. Something of a suspended-disbelief look showed on Cate's glowing face, though clearly she was into this. Miranda knelt between the spread legs and pulled Liv down, too. One of her fidgety hands fiddled in her purse; the other resumed its crawl up to Cate's panties.

"Well, do something, dummy," huffed Miranda to Liv from the side of her mouth. "You're not going to just sit there, are you?" With a snap of her wrist and a small click, a silver penknife sprang open. Liv, frozen, looked almost fearfully up at Cate. The woman's cornflower eyes glittered. Her white teeth flashed. She'd caught her lower lip between her teeth, a picture of edgy, caged vixen. And she was looking right at Liv.

Miranda's little knife flashed once, twice, then clattered, forgotten, to the tile floor. Her long pale fingers peeled down the front panel of Cate's expensive panties, parting the severed strings. Obviously this had all agreed with the blond. Even without touching, Liv could tell the silk was damp, slick in some areas. The aroma of well-groomed, clean, excited pussy rose. ‘Well-groomed my ass,' thought Liv. ‘Totally bald.' Not only that, she saw what Cate had been leading up to. At the top of the hairless slit, and one on the mid-point of each smooth labia, were the Three. Inked in thick black, maybe half an inch in height at the most, the tattoos drew Liv's eyes like a target.

"Three of them!" Miranda breathed reverently. "That is the shit, Cate!" she chortled. "Too bad you can't show them to all the guys."

"Who says… that I… can't?" Cate was already breathing heavily. She shifted and tucked her butt under more, so more of her intimate parts lay exposed. "Well, Miranda, go line ‘em up. We can charge…. Admission, huh? That's one bonus…you can't screw me out of!"

"Speaking of…" Famous last words by Miranda. She said no more. The next instant, her mouth kissed each Three, then went to sucking the one nearest her.

Knowledge of her probable regret in the morning didn't faze Liv any longer. She was panting heavily herself, aching to mirror Miranda. Before her thinking mind could rein her back, she bent forward. Cate's thigh quivered when she placed her cool, manicured hand upon its warmth. Cate arched her back and pushed her hips forward just a tiny bit more. Already, Miranda was busily occupied, hand kneading and tongue darting out between kisses. Liv dived in. She nibbled gently on the tat, only for a minute. Her long and mobile tongue shot forward into Cate's folds, tasting the sweet-sour saltiness. Cat's whole body tensed. A minute later, Liv's intense tongue-searching prods met Miranda's kittenish licks and kisses.

Liv was having deja vu. Last time she and Mir had been on opposite sides, but otherwise… At that moment, Miranda turned in toward Liv. Their seeking tongues met. Full, wide lips met thinner, but still softer, pink ones. Two pairs of blue eyes locked and the two women devoured each other. Miranda let go of Cate, who whimpered above them, and wrapped her surprisingly strong arms around Liv. Her tongue, which tasted of Cate, invaded Liv's mouth. Getting over her startlement at the intensity of Miranda's assault quickly, Liv countered. She surprised even herself when she reached up to cup Miranda's small, firm breasts. Even through the formal dress, she felt the nipples, rock hard. As she liked for herself, she tickled her fingertips over them non-stop while she delved Miranda's heated mouth with a swirling tongue. The two girls kissed messily. They were too needy to be pretty about it.

‘Needy,' Liv reflected. ‘Yeah, I needed this.' She'd rarely indulged with women, but they offered certain delights men didn't. Like just the sameness. Though any woman's body had the same general mechanics as her own, they were so varied in what would get them off. With a man, you touched his penis and that was that, more or less. A woman could be so much more complicated. She liked the challenge.

Miranda kissed like there was no tomorrow, fierce and intense. Liv jumped when gentle fingers started to play with her earlobe. Cate had reached down to stimulate one of the most sensitive areas on Liv's body. She felt slightly Elvish that way, though it was lobes not ear tips that did it for her. She and Miranda were ignoring Cate, she knew, but right now they needed the contact, with arms twined around to clutch at shoulders and asses. They pressed their hips together, a slow rhythm beginning to match the slow burn in each of them. Miranda lifted the taller woman's breasts out of her low-cut bodice. Her quick and clever tongue flicked across them hard. She bit, nearly hard enough to draw blood. Liv had to stifle a moan. The hot pain of it jolted the zone of pent-up desire she'd been sliding in; she wanted more of that.

The two women searched each other's faces for some clue as to what should happen next. They turned as one to Cate and picked up where they'd left off. The woman's hips bucked sharply as two tongues descended simultaneously on her clit. At first, she stiffened at the overload of sensation, but soon turned to mush and slumped once again. Liv and Miranda were all business about Cate's pleasure now. Together, mirroring each other, they explored very inch of skin, every nerve ending, it seemed, and the black-inked tats of their own little circle. Cate was trying to be quiet, but no one was going to mistake the obvious mewling noises that escaped her.

The two women on the floor found their rhythm, as it where, each with her tongue on one side of Cate's clit at the last, licking faster and faster till their costar was trembling and clenching her ass and thighs. Miranda slid two fingers into Cate's slick depths, then added a third. "Squeeze," she managed to say, then her tongue circled crazily. The blond fucked herself against Miranda's hand. Her hips jolted and her toes pointed and she pushed her legs as far apart as she could stretch. Cate's sweat-shiny face slackened. The woman came hard, even Liv could tell. Miranda's fingers continued their furious assault till she peaked a second time, quickly, shuddering all the way. More wetness gushed from her; Liv lapped it up alongside the Aussie like it was life-giving.

Cate's chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. "Damn!" she panted. "Goddamn!"

Miranda pulled her fingers out at a touch on her wrist from Cate and licked them. "Tastes good," she smiled up into dazed-looking cerulean eyes. Her expression must have conveyed her want. Cate smiled back and got off the stool. She said nothing, but pulled up Miranda's dress, and without pause, trailed her fingers down the flat tummy and into Miranda's underwear. Hers were the same color as her dress, but see-through. Flaxen curls parted; Cate's hand hit its mark. They dove into each other, which served to stifle the gasps Miranda couldn't seem to help. Liv turned Miranda by the shoulders to allow the two blonds face-to-face contact. Now she was behind Miranda, whose hair tickled her nose. Bending her head both to get at Miranda's slender neck and so she could watch Cate's activities below, Liv plied her tongue. Delicate little licks with tiny sharp bites in the middle, she burned a trail from collarbone up to an ear pierced by a medium sized rectangular hoop earring. Experimentally, she tried different angles till she found a comfortable one and then sucked hard. By now, Miranda was worked up enough and Cate was determined enough that Miranda's climax was immanent. Cate worked her hard, just short of rough; Liv could make out the twists and turns of her wrist as she pumped her fingers in and out. The two of them sandwiched Miranda between them as she came. Liv could feel her shake in turn, arching her warm body against back hers. Cate kept her mouth clamped down in Mir's and swallowed as much of her moans as she could. The afterglow seemed to go on much longer for the second woman. She remained there between them, just breathing, eyes closed, a half-smile on her swollen lips.

In a few minutes Cate leaned forward over Miranda's shoulder to kiss Liv softly. "How about you, love? Are you next?" Liv's pussy was tight and aching after the performance they'd made. All the talk from earlier hadn't helped, to begin with. She was really tempted, but…

"No, I don't think so."

"Why not?" Miranda almost sounded like she was pouting.

"Just because."

The two blue-eyed blonds nailed her to the wall with their astute, pointed gazes. Cate sighed. "Well, go get him then. I hope you're up to it."

For a moment, she almost asked permission. But no. This was … what it was, what it is, what it shall be. They all were bound by those concepts, had been for almost half a decade now.

Liv couldn't help smirking. Just couldn't help it. Just couldn't wait. The night was not over yet. Not by a longshot.

*****

THE END

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