The City of Lights (фемслэш)

Cleo lights her cigarette and opens Beth’s suitcase on the bed. She pulls out a dress and lays it down, running a long fingernail across the weave. “This one’s pretty.”
Beth flicks her eyes from the dress to Cleo. This is that moment in chess she loves so very much, the pivotal move. The single push of a pawn that changes the direction of the whole game, meaningless without the context of the board, of the players, of the direction of the game.
She stands before Cleo in her silk slip and near to shivering.
She pushes a pawn of her own. “Well. Go on. Put it on me.”
(Or, the year is 1970 and Beth is in Paris again. And she's not the only one.)