The resurrected Club Zero in Metropolis was a favorite of the city's elite. Renowned for its discretion it catered to every whim of those who inhabited the upper ranks and did so with glee. For the woman who was to become the wife of the leading favorite in a Senatorial race it was a place to cut loose and play. Away from the prying eyes of the press and her fiance. For the woman who was escaping from the doubling assignment to end all doubling assignments, it was a place to let both herself and her identity to get lost in the crowd.

As Julia Thorne, Sydney Bristow commanded the attention of every man in the place, more than a few women, but it was the casual appraising gaze of the slender young woman from the upper levels which commanded hers. Inordinately beautiful, almost too so, she seemed quite bored with her surroundings and, despite sporting a rather large diamond on her ring finger, had no companion in sight.

It was a few short steps up the stairs to the woman's side and, with a confident smirk, she introduced herself, "Julia."

Surprisingly, the woman grinned, a hint of censure in it. "Are you?" She challenged confidently. "Well...then I'm Chloe."

They were both lying but neither woman cared.

Which is how they ended up in a corner, like so many others in the Club, with 'Chloe's' fingers buried to the knuckle in 'Julia' , her lips and teeth worrying a nipple while Julia writhed and tugged on her glossy dark hair. Hoarse cries of pleasure, guttural and saturated with her release were lost in the throbbing music and while the other patrons no doubt were aware of their activities, they were ignored. Plenty of their fellow club goers were engaged in similiar activities and cared little about anyone else's.

'Julia' recovered quickly from her release and, swiftly switched places, pressing 'Chloe' back onto the over stuffed sofa and hiking up her expensive skirt. Both heard the material rip but neither woman cared as tongue met clit and it was her turn to cry out.

They still didn't care when it was over. They shared a few drinks, shared wry allusions to the complexities of their respective lives, the masks they lived behind and when they parted at the end of the night it was with a searing kiss and a commisserating grin, acknowledging their return to the salt mines that were the roles they played, and a silent promise to meet again. Where and when did not matter. They knew they would...they didn't care when.

Finis

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