Chapter Text
She stirs in her sleep just as the stars are being wiped away. Angela watches the rise and fall of Birgitte’s chest, moving closer to trace the bridge of her nose to its tip. “Hi,” she whispers hoarsely.
Birgitte smiles, eyes still closed. She juts her chin out softly, Angela’s finger falling to her lips, and she plants a gentle kiss on it.
“Do you remember how we met?” She asks, throwing an arm over Birgitte’s waist as she lays her head on her chest, the pulsing in her ear falling in rhythm with Birgitte’s heartbeats.
When you love someone, you invent a language only the two of you can speak—conversations translatable in bodies moving together, toward each other. And her fondness for her lover is an instinctive hand caressing Angela’s hair as the younger woman drapes herself across her warm body, longing to get as close to her as their flesh would allow.
“Of course…” Birgitte says, kissing the top of her head sleepily.
“Tell me.” She asks.
Birgitte opens her eyes and meets brown eyes hazy in the morning light, looking up at her tenderly, patiently. She looks at her, an amused smile blooming in her face, wondering what brought the question up, “As you may well recall, you were there too.”
“Yes, and I know my version of it, but I want to hear yours.”
“ Ja. Okay. Hmmm,” she hums and tucks a stray strand behind Angela’s ear before beginning. “It was a rainy Wednesday—no, Thursday—in Copenhagen. I’ve just come from a release party for Katrine’s new book and wanted a nightcap, so I went to a pub I used to go to when I was in university, which is surprisingly still in business.”
Angela asks quietly, “Was it, really?”
“Yes. They did make some changes here and there, but it’s been pretty much the same—the old red booths, the floorboards, the tables… Oh, and the highchairs at the bar…” She trails, picturing the place as it once was decades ago when she was just a young political science student debating against classmates and professors with the same glint of passion in her eyes. “So I sat at the bar, ordered a glass of red wine, and took my phone out to check my email. Must have been a while when you sat beside me and ordered a martini, I looked up from my phone, noticed that the whole place is packed, and that it was the last seat at the bar.”
“ Gin martini.” Angela added and with a lone finger floating ever so lightly, traced swirling lines on Birgitte’s shirt, her tanned skin peeking through the folds between the buttons. She slips an arm underneath the fabric and ran her palm over the expanse of warm inviting flesh of the woman underneath her.
“Yes. And I smiled at you quite politely, like this,” Birgitte reminisces, pressing her lips together in a tight line, the crinkle in her eyes giving away the effervescent spirit she has shown to every single person she meets. “You raised your glass in greeting, and I took a sip of my wine. Then you impolitely peered on my phone and read an email from my daughter’s partner that was in English which got you excited apparently, because then you said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to read your private message but if I may, it’s clearly Lake Louise over Cape Breton.’”
The giggle from Angela’s chest vibrates through Birgitte’s side, a ticklish sensation that fills her with delight. “Your font is quite huge. You might as well have announced your business to everyone there!”
“Well I wasn’t offended as much as I was…intrigued.” Birgitte notes, “You continued to ramble on for at least 10 minutes about how Lake Louise is the better option.”
Angela interjects quickly, “Because it was!”
“And so it was.” She concurs gracefully with a playful nod. “Then the bartender came over and asked you if you wanted another one. You then offered to buy me a drink. Which I was going to refuse, but you looked so sweet, sitting there wide-eyed and perhaps hoping to make a new friend.” Birgitte teased. “So I said yes, you swung your knees towards me giddily and asked me another question—”
“‘ Ooh, may I please choose for you?’ ” They said in unison and chuckled. “Oh you thought I was wide-eyed when I was definitely, definitely, checking you out.”
“You were very cute.” Birgitte whispers with a toothy grin, and her nose scrunches as she taps the tip of Angela’s nose. “And I just had to agree…” She thinks back to that night and the way Angela was so excited to surprise her with a drink—the young woman wearing a white shirt tucked into a gray tweed skirt, gorgeous dark hair flowing down her back, a black hair tie around her wrist, childish astonishment in her face.
----- 3 years ago -----
The young woman beckoned the bartender over, and with the confidence of an atheist, asked if they could make up a drink called “Porn Star shooters but topped with Sprite so they’re cocktails”, one for each of them. The bartender then clarified with the woman as to what the exact contents of the drink would be.
Birgitte laughed at her acquaintance’s boldness, which then turned into amusement. “I have to say, I’m very curious as to how they will turn out to be like.”
“You don’t have to finish it, but I hope you will at least try it.” She said with a smile and extended her hand. “I’m Angela, by the way.”
Birgitte’s lips broke out into a wide smile, her nose crinkling adorably as she suddenly remembered that they haven’t even introduced themselves to each other yet. “Oh. Birgitte. Nice to meet you.” She shook Angela’s hand, the younger woman’s palm slipping warmly against hers. “Are you new in town?”
Angela smiled shyly, tucking brown tresses behind her ear. “Is it that obvious?” She asked to which Birgitte nodded. “I moved here from London a few weeks ago for a job.”
“And how are you finding things?” Birgitte inquired.
“D’ya know what, quite well actually. Bit of a far cry from how the rest of the world portrayed Scandinavians as…well, snobs. Still learning about the city. Are you a local?”
Birgitte chuckled, she has never been a stranger in Copenhagen since she made waves as the party leader of Moderates, and even more so when she assumed office as the first female prime minister of Denmark. “I guess so.”
“Brilliant!” Angela exclaimed, leaning in closer. “Have you got any tips for me?”
“Let’s see…” Birgitte started but was interrupted by the bartender approaching them with their drinks—deep purple hues of chilled fizzy liquid in specialty cocktail glasses. “Huh…” She regarded as it was presented to her.
“Your porn star cocktails.” The bartender said with a thick Danish accent, “Enjoy.”
“ Tak .” Angela replied, and turned to Birgitte with an excited grin, “Are you ready?”
Birgitte beamed at her, infected by the joy that emanates from Angela. She took the glass and poised the rim against her lips, the saccharine smell delightful to her nose. She took a sip. And then another, letting the taste coat her tongue. She looked at Angela, the younger woman’s big eyes joyful. “No! Is this candy?!”
“Not at all. But it should be, shouldn’t it?” Angela laughed, taking a big sip of hers as well.
Birgitte nodded, setting the glass down half-empty. “Makes drinking an enjoyable experience. As opposed to merely an pleasurable after-effect.”
She bowed comically towards Birgitte, her brown hair sliding over her face. As she sat back up, she reached for her drink again and winked at the other woman, “My pleasure. Although you do look like a brown liquid shooter.”
“I’m sorry?” Birgitte clarified.
“Whisky, scotch, brandy, cognac…”
“Oh! Well yes.” Birgitte replied, and added quickly, having seemingly forgotten to express her appreciation, “Thank you for the star shooters.” She turned to Angela, her knees inches away from the other woman’s thigh as she was hit with a wave of alcohol going to her head. “As repayment, let me give you some tips for living in Copenhagen.”
“Yes. I’m listening.” Angela responded, ever so slightly turning her body to face Birgitte, the side of her thigh then resting against the other woman’s.
The Danish woman leaned an elbow against the bar counter, her lips pursed adorably on one side, deep in thought, “Do you have a bike yet? Can you ride a bike?”
Angela toyed with the hair tie on her wrist as she explained, “Unfortunately, I do not, but I can. I have just been walking everywhere all this time. Or getting a cab.”
She hummed her agreement. “It’s perfectly safe to walk around but do consider getting a bike. It would be more efficient in the long run. And definitely watch where you walk. Avoid getting into a tragic bike accident.”
The expat nodded and bit her lower lip as she made a mental list of the information given to her.
“Do get bike locks. And if you have a basket on your bike that you plan on placing your bag in, make sure to secure it with ties in case of theft. They’re not very common but they still happen.” Birgitte traced the bead of sweat from her chilled glass, running her finger all the way down to the stem of it.
“Noted. Thank you.” Angela smiled. “So did you bike here then?”
Birgitte shook her head no, “I took a cab. Did you walk?”
The young woman shrugged, “I did. My office is near, and I wanted some dinner before I go back alone to my empty flat.”
The woman frowned sympathetically and raised her almost empty glass, “Ditto.” She announced, and downed the rest of her drink. She then grinned at Angela before gesturing to the bartender to come over, her elbows rested on the counter after. “Would you like another round? This one’s on me.”
Angela instinctively reached for Birgitte’s forearm, as if to stop her. “Oh no, please. Let me.”
The contact caught Birgitte off guard, and her skin seemed to sizzle under Angela’s palm. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as all her senses focused on where their skin met, and she didn’t know how many seconds passed but her trance was broken when Angela spoke again, her teeth catching the light as her painted lips break into a sweet smile.
“I would appreciate more tips, though, if you happen to have any more.”
Birgitte smiled to herself in fascination for what the foreigner stirs within her. “Alright.”
The young woman greeted the bartender as they approached. “Hi. Two buttery nipple shots?”
The bartender laughed in amusement, “Oh that’s very funny! You know a lot of funny drinks, no?”
Birgitte, for the first time in a long time, full-heartedly giggled at the cheeky name of the drink that her companion ordered for them. “Will you ever run out of drinks with silly names?”
She shrugged her shoulders smugly and finished the last of her pornstar cocktail. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know.”
The bartender returned a few seconds later to inform them that he does not have butterscotch schnapps to make the drink. Angela ordered instead a round of espresso martinis. That and a couple of single malt scotches later, the two had traded bits of information about themselves and the cities they’ve lived in, including more tips and tricks for Angela on how to adapt to Scandinavian life. Each sip of liquor sluicing down their throats warming one to the other, an easy fondness growing between the two.
“Okay. In the spirit of sharing—and honesty—I did say I was gonna get dinner. But I didn’t even know they don’t serve full meals here and I am starvinggg .” Angela said, one hand nonchalantly settling on top of Birgitte’s.
The older woman’s skin burned deliciously at the contact, the warm comfort of Angela’s palm on the back of hers a reminder that she hasn’t been touched in a while. The immediate familiarity she formed with the attractive young woman who kept touching her in little ways made her hot under her collars. She tried to push it down, cleared her throat briefly and smiled at the expat. “Really, so am I! You’d think they’d give you enough hors-d'œuvres at a book launch…”
“Wonderful!” Angela smiled as she got up from her seat. “Where are we going?”
Half an hour later and they’re seated at an Italian restaurant two blocks from the bar where they first met, waiting for their food to be brought to their table.
“Have you signed up for any Danish language courses yet? Learning Danish will give you a lot of advantages.” Birgitte nodded, taking a sip of cold water.
“In fact, I have. but I’m afraid I’m not really progressing as fast as I would hope.”
Birgitte pursed her lips then bit her lower lip ever so subtly. “Just keep at it. If you want, I could help you out sometime.”
The younger woman’s eyes widened in glee. “Are you absolutely sure? Or are you just saying that to be nice? Because I will take you up on it.”
Unsure if it was the alcohol or the woman in front of her, or perhaps both, Birgitte’s face felt warm, and she was sure she was blushing. She chuckled and nodded at Angela. “I’d be glad to.”
“Oh that’s lovely!” Angela bit her lip excitedly, fishing her phone out of her bag and passing it to Birgitte with a playful wink, “So then, mobile, s’il vous plait ?”
The Dane held the phone half an arm’s length away from her to see better and entered her number, a strong yet nimble forefinger of her left hand tapped away across the screen. She smiled coyly, her body buzzing with the awareness that the woman in front of her was studying her quietly the entire time. “Here you go. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll see what I can do.”
Angela’s fingers lingered a second longer around Birgitte’s, the touch sending exquisite want right to her tits. God damn.
She tucked the phone back into her bag and cleared her throat in a futile effort to compose herself. “I’m just gonna go to the loo for a bit. Be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
Birgitte nodded courtly and reached for her glass of red wine as Angela stood up. As she was poised to take her sip, a server with a plate of food walked past Angela which prompted the English woman to step closer to their table, her hip inadvertently nudging Birgitte’s arm, causing half the red wine in her glass to spill down her ivory white shirt!
The loud gasp escaped her lips as she saw the burgundy instantly stain the fabric of her acquaintance’s shirt and she exclaimed, “Oh god! Birgitte, I am so sorry! Is your arm alright?”
“Mm.” Birgitte hummed as she swallowed the drink in her mouth and set her glass down. “Oh.” She muttered under her breath as she tried to dab the stain away with her napkin to no avail.
“Oh god. Could I help you try to get it off the shirt?” Angela offered, her face red in embarrassment as she gestures for the loo. “Please?”
The woman nodded, grabbing her bag and walking away with Angela whom she thought odd for grabbing the glass of white wine to the lavatory.
Inside, the younger woman hurriedly set down her glass by the sink and stepped back to look at the damage she did to the other’s shirt, who is now wetting a part of her napkin under the faucet.
“Let me help.” Angela insisted, guiding Birgitte to lean her backside against the edge of the sink. The older woman handed the cloth to her with a sigh and a resigned smile. She dipped a corner into her glass and turned back to Birgitte, “May I?” She asked, asking for consent to get closer for which permission was easily granted. Angela held the edge of the shirt, her index finger slightly peeking in, centimetres away from warm, tanned skin, and began blotting at the material. “I’ve found that white wine works very well. And you blot it with water after.”
As she worked away at the stain, Birgitte was all too aware of the silence that befell them. It is then her turn to gaze at the woman in front of her and she felt her heart thud loudly, and she unthinkingly took a huge inhale, her chest expanding and Angela’s finger resting right by her heart for two insufficient seconds. “Oh hey, look at that! It’s starting to come off!” Birgitte praised with a huge grin at how much lighter the stain is.
Angela beamed proudly. “Having been clumsy often enough to learn a trick or two.” She glanced upwards at the woman before looking back at the stain and tutting, “I just wish I could do a better job.”
“Would it be easier if I took it off?” Birgitte suggested and immediately began undoing the buttons on the top of her shirt. “Could you lock the door so no one walks in?”
She turned away from Birgitte to turn the lock, her face burning with shyness, nervousness, and brimming excitement. “Look, I’m really sorry, Birgitte,” she said as the other dabs at her shirt with a wet paper towel, “you could have mine if you like. I think it’s quite similar to yours.” As she turned back to an already half naked Birgitte, Angela started unbuttoning her shirt, revealing an expanse of dreamy chest encased in black balconette bra.
Birgitte stared back at her, standing there in her beige demi bra. “Don’t be sorry. It’s…” Birgitte began and let her eyes drink in Angela’s half naked body hungrily. Finally finding her way up to Angela’s face, Birgitte cleared her throat and gave her a radiant smile, “it’s alright. Really.”
Pursing her lips, Angela once again moved closer to her to take the shirt from Birgitte’s hands and resumed working on it. “We’re not hogging the loo, are we?” she inquired as she was bent over the sink.
The woman shifted her weight on her other leg, her hip then right next to Angela’s who didn’t move an inch. “No,” she shrugged, “There are 3 more like this one.”
“Okay, good.” Angela said softly.
Birgitte smirked with an audible exhale, “You’re cute,” she observed, her gaze fixed on the wall yet her words directed to Angela.
“If we’re stating facts, you are drop-dead gorgeous.” She fired back, her fingers still dabbing away at the stain.
Birgitte turned towards Angela. The younger woman stood upright and turned to face her in return.
“I hope it’s not just the alcohol,” She started, gulping as she cannot take her eyes off of Birgitte’s mouth. “You do want to kiss me too, is that right?”
Eyes turning a darker shade of blue, shimmering with her buzzing desire, Birgitte locked eyes with Angela. “All night.”
It was unclear who moved towards the other first, but they found themselves pressed up against each other, lips locked, tongues tangling and hands roaming, the sounds of their breaths filling their ears. They kissed with fervor; their wanton desires burning and eager to explore each other.
Angela’s palms moved from the small of Birgitte’s back to grab her ass, squeezing her round cheeks and pressing the woman closer. One hand travels upward to guide the woman’s neck, her tongue kissing a hot path down the column of her throat, earning a breathy moan from Birgitte that seemed to echo in the confined space of the private washroom when she bit softly on her pulse point. Angela beamed smugly against her throat, “You like that?”
Birgitte guided Angela’s mouth back to hers and kissed her self-satisfied smile away. She held Angela’s body close to her and started kissing down her neck, her other hand palming a full breast. The loud moan that fell out of Angela’s lips grounded them both back to the situation they found themselves in—making out half-naked in a lavatory at a busy restaurant. Birgitte clasped a hand over Angela’s lips, face turning red at the possibility that they might get caught like this. The younger woman smiled behind it, gently pried it away from her face, and kissed Birgitte’s fingertips before pulling the body attached to it closer, and kissing the woman’s worries away. Slowly. Gently. Sweetly.
“Alright?” Angela asked, thumb tapping at the base of Birgitte’s spine, calming the woman down as their breathing returned to normal.
Birgitte smiled and nodded. “I’m good. And you?”
She tucked the older woman’s hair behind her ears and gave her lips one more quick kiss. “Lovely. You look hotter all mussed up.”
“So…”
Angela smiled amusedly at Birgitte’s shyness. The way they were both standing there half-naked and all kissed-up, mouths pink and lips full, and the woman is only now acting skittish. “Do you want to go back to my place? It’s about 8 minutes away.”
“Yes.” Birgitte replied, seeing glances of herself in the mirror behind Angela. “Though we might want to wait a minute before stepping back out there lest we announce to everyone what we were doing just now.”
She chuckled and winked at the former PM. “Good call. And the food?”
“I’d guess they would probably be ready to serve it by now.”
“Yes, I suppose we should stay for that, I’m still starving.”
The white shirts lay forgotten on the sink, and Angela picked them up and passed her shirt to Birgitte who just shrugged and took her own mildly stained one back instead. “So am I.”
She stepped closer to Birgitte who was then pulling her shirt on. Holding the lapels of it, Angela fixed a hungry stare at her and pressed her lips beneath Birgitte’s earlobe as her fingertips linger close to the older woman’s breasts. “And I know now what I want to have for dessert.”
Angela giggles, “Subtle, wasn’t I?” Her voice muffled as she buries her face further against Birgitte’s side which earns a throaty chuckle from the woman, fingers threading through Angela’s hair lovingly. She lifts her head and props it up with her elbow against the pillow, studying her woman lying on her back beside her. A deep sigh slips out between her lips, and Birgitte turns to look at her, her cerulean eyes shining beneath her thick lashes. Angela brings her free hand to trace the freckles on the other’s chest, “I can’t believe it worked. My attempts at flirting with you that night.”
The woman smiles, amused. “You were adorable. In just the right place at just the right time.”
“Thankfully!” She exclaims, comically glancing up at the heavens. “All night I knew I was being so silly because you’re definitely out of my league. I had to try though.”
“Ohhh, sweetie,” Birgitte coos teasingly, leaning up to give her partner a kiss. “You were captivatingly charming. And hot. I’m so glad you did try, Anj.” She says gratefully, and gives her another sweet kiss.
“Would we be here today if I hadn’t, you know, very rudely peeked into your phone?”
“You know I’m not really fond of hypothetical questions…” The ex-politician bites her lower lip in thought, hand seeking to caress that of her lover’s where it rests on her chest. “But. I can say that I wasn’t really looking for anything then—I was content with my life. And I wasn’t paying much attention to anything apart from my phone in that bar.”
The corners of Angela’s mouth turn upwards in a triumphant smile. “All this because I’m nosy and a bit weird.”
“Aww, Anj…” Birgitte coos.
Angela tuts at her. She pecks sweetly at Birgitte’s lips and lies on her back, “Now sit on my face so I can demonstrate just how weirdly good I can be with my tongue.”