Title: Harmless Experimentation

Author: Harper

Fandom: Weeds

Pairing: Nancy/Celia (sort of)

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I do not purport to own these characters. I mean no infringement. I make no profit.

A/N: Not a happy fic. It’s a, “What if Nancy hadn’t told Celia no,” fic, and I realize that most people probably haven’t seen Weeds or will know this scene, but for those who do… enjoy. Basically (spoilers ahead), Celia is fed up with her cheating husband. She wants to cheat back, but not with a man because, in her words, she just can’t stand the thought of sucking another cock. So she asks Nancy if she’s ever been with a woman, and when Nancy says that she has, back in college, Celia asks if she’d be interested in being with her. And that’s it, in a nutshell. You can reach me at Xfjnky2@yahoo.com.

“I can’t believe talked me into doing this,” Nancy muttered, almost rolling her eyes at herself. She hadn’t taken Celia seriously that afternoon in the foyer, figuring the other woman’s bitter rant was just that, all rant with no real conviction behind it. But when she’d fessed up, when she’d told Celia that yes, she had had sex with a woman before, something in the other woman’s eyes had changed. And when she’d mentioned her feelings on the matter, that it had actually been rather boring for her though she’d apparently blown her partner’s mind, the curiosity she saw peaking turned downright predatory.

“Come on, Nancy,” Celia had said, her voice that had demand, half whine that nearly drove Nancy crazy. “Just one time, that’s all. Let me see how Dean’s cheating tennis racquet filled ass deals with being on the other end of the little adultery gaffe.” She’d arched one of those imperious brows, almost looking down her nose at Nancy. “If you’ve done it once, you can do it again. This is what friendship is all about.”

And Nancy had wanted to tell her that she wasn’t quite sure that what they had was a friendship, was almost quite certain that it was more that she was trapped in Agrestic with precious scant people to choose from, and Celia certainly made life interesting and didn’t bother whispering about her behind her back like every other woman there who knew she was a poor soul, and knew they wouldn’t know what to do if they were in her place. But some part of her had felt compassion for the other woman, even as she knew it wasn’t merited and that Celia would soon do something that would strip all of that compassion away in an instant.

The walls were starting to crumble, though, and all she could do was hope that Celia hadn’t picked up on it.

Not that she could escape, because Celia was a master at sniffing out weaknesses and exploiting them. She was ruthless and self-involved and more than willing to use any means necessary to get what she wanted, and all it took was a look meant to invoke pity and a small sniff, as if she were on the verge of tears, and the walls collapsed.

“Jesus… yes. Fine, whatever. I’ll do it, even if I think it is the worst idea you’ve probably ever had. And trust me, I never thought I’d be able to say that with all of the shit you pull.” Nancy had slouched, pouting, already mad at herself for agreeing when she saw Celia’s triumphant smirk.

“Dean’s in bed by 11:00. I’ll be over at midnight,” was all Celia had said, heels clicking loudly as she spun, as she marched out of Nancy’s house with her impeccable posture and her smug grin.

The evening was more eventful than she would have hoped, with Silas and his B-B gun and his claims that he shot the mountain lion and the two inch long welt on her the side of her palm from the red hot pan she hadn’t had the sense to remove from the oven with anything other than her bare hand. She hadn’t even heard Andy come in, though a bed check found his tousled blond head sticking up from under the covers, and before she knew it, everyone was in bed and her ganga-filled goodies were cooked and packaged and ready to go, and she had nothing to do other than sit and wait and think of ways she could wriggle out of her promise to Celia.

By midnight, Nancy had managed to consume enough of her own product to be more than a bit hazy about what was going on, so when Celia showed up in her bedroom in a rather snazzy black tracksuit, she’d merely looked up at her with unfocused eyes, mumbled something unintelligible, and sat there watching as the other woman calmly began to disrobe.

“You can at least get up,” Celia said peevishly, taking in the half-mast cast of Nancy’s eyelids, the way she was slumped in her chair.

But Nancy didn’t think she could get up, certainly not to walk over to where Celia was standing. Certainly not to put this whole thing in motion, the thing she still thought was a supremely bad idea.

Shaking her head in frustration, lips pursing as she took in Nancy’s non-action, Celia snapped, “Fine. Just like always, I’ll do all the work myself.”

Her approach was more stalk than slink, more dedicated intent than sensuous advance, and Nancy just watched her with large, luminous brown eyes. She felt oddly detached from the whole thing, even as Celia straddled her thighs, as the other woman’s knees dug into the soft cushions of the chair. Then Celia was looming large in front of her, and she couldn’t be detached as the other woman’s trademark arched brow was goading her into motion, as cool hands were sliding into her hair to grip rather fiercely. Celia was kissing her, was pressing their lips together with feigned passion, and it was all so odd that she almost burst into laughter.

Breaking their kiss, leaning back to glare, Celia hissed, “For fuck’s sake, at least try.”

So with a shrug of her shoulders, Nancy decided that she would try. She wrapped her fingers around Celia’s long, honeyed hair until she felt the sting of the burn on her palm and she pulled, bringing the other woman’s lips to hers with a crushing finality that had more to do with her inability to extricate herself from the situation than it did with any real desire to be doing what she was doing. But, once she slipped into kissing Celia, she figured that it didn’t feel too bad, that the warm pressure of the other woman’s lips against hers was a somewhat reassuring intimacy.

She was unzipping Celia’s track jacket, tossing it to the floor as she pulled off the carefully fitted white undershirt, fiddling with the clasps of the other woman’s bra. She was squeezing Celia’s breasts, legs parting so that Celia was nearly knocked off balance. She was pushing the other woman away, leading her over to the bed and stripping her pants off with one fluid motion, but somehow, even with the silk of the other woman’s skin hot beneath her fingertips, she felt almost like she wasn’t doing any of those things at all.

She could hear Celia’s surprised cries of pleasure, muffled against the pillow as she bit down hard on a sensitive nipple, silenced by a hand as she slid her fingers into the waistband of silk panties. Fingers that slipped through hot wetness, nothing bothering to tease. She went straight for the heart of it all, making tight little circles around hardened flesh as she sucked and sucked and sucked, and she watched from under hooded lashes as Celia bit down hard on her own wrist, body convulsing, eyes wide in shock.

As Celia caught her breath, Nancy rolled over onto her back, eyes unseeing. Celia traced a light hand down her still clothed belly, a half-hearted attempt at returning the favor, but Nancy brushed it away.

“She was right,” Celia drawled, unruffled by the rejection, voice barely breaking through the shell of white noise surrounding Nancy.

Voice hoarse, Nancy croaked, “Who?”

“That girl… the one you slept with in college,” Celia said drolly. “Best sex I’ve ever had.”

Nancy felt the hysteria bubbling up inside of her, dangerously close to boiling over. Celia was rolling out of bed, stalking around the room and collecting her clothes as Nancy continued to lay there, silent laughter echoing around the room.

“Don’t go starting any rumors,” was all she said, voice tired. “I have enough trouble as it is without having to fuck every unhappy housewife in Agrestic.”

Celia snorted, and Nancy looked over to see that she was once again perfectly composed, not even a hair out of place. “Just charge them by the hour, honey. Forget all about those money problems,” came the cynical reply.

There was a quite bitterness behind the words, and Nancy wondered briefly if Celia was jealous of her because her husband was dead and Dean was still alive and kicking and doing his best to drive Celia mad. And then she did laugh, the sound void of amusement. “I have enough problems as it is without getting arrested for prostitution,” she said tiredly. “Lock the door on your way out.”

“Well, yes ma’am,” Celia said smartly, lips thinning and eyes flashing. “Worn out my welcome, I see.”

Nancy sighed, quite sure she didn’t have the energy to deal with a tantrum and desperately hoping that Celia would behave herself so she didn’t have to. “It’s late and I’m tired. Go home to your husband, Celia. Feel superior, or whatever it is you plan on doing.”

Celia paused, and it was clear from her expression that she wanted to say more… that she wanted more. But instead she drawled, “See you at soccer tomorrow.”

And then she was gone, and Nancy could breathe. But she didn’t breathe, just rolled over and buried her nose in the sheets and sobbed. She felt cheap and empty and she missed Jonah so damn much that she felt hollow inside. She wanted to run after Celia and curse her and her stupid ideas. And some part of her wanted to do it all over again, just so she could feel in control of at least one thing in her life.

When she slept she dreamed of Jonah. He didn’t care what she’d done, just laughed at her and quirked an amused smile, “Celia?” said in disbelief, and she’d laughed too because none of it mattered.

When she woke, it was to cold sheets and the smell of sex and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep and sleep forever.

But she didn’t. She got up, ruffled Silas’ hair as she sent him off with lunch in a brown paper sack, laughed at Andy’s jokes and drank coffee with Pepita, trying all the while to forget everything about who she was.

The End