Priče

Sve što je vrijedno čitanja, gledanja i slušanja podijelite s nama ili pak iznesite svoje žestoke kritike istog.
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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
Spol/rod: žensko
Ja sam: lezbijka
Status: U vezi
Lokacija: Karlovac

Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 03 ruj 2012 00:32

College...dvije suparničke studentske kuće ...gay bashing..

~ The Dyke and The Debutante ~
by Alex Tryst


Elle finally broke the look passing between them. Her heart was hammering wildly at the way the softball catcher was acting. She had often fantasized of the tall woman being aggressive with her, the woman’s sexy confidence making her body simmer in sexual excitement, and at the moment Elle was on fire from the dark eyes. Making her way out of the room, she headed out the back door to stand on the porch. The cold December air did nothing however to cool her passion. Dropping her head down, she sighed. She didn’t know what to do to make her feelings for the tall woman disappear, and furthermore she didn’t want them to, regardless of how the brunette felt. For the first time in her life, Elle felt truly alive by the emotions that whirled within her whenever she was near Addison. Everything in her yearned for the all-star catcher, and even though it was difficult to take rejection from her friend, she wouldn’t change the excitement she felt whenever the tall woman was near. As torn as she was over their relationship, secretly Elle still savored every moment, even as awkward as it was to her not to have gotten her way by virtue of being who she was. Suddenly the sound of the screen door creaking pulled her from her thoughts. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Addison standing there holding one of her jackets.

“I thought you could use this if you were going to stay out here. It’s cold out tonight.” she stated shyly.

Elle took the extended garment. “Thanks.” she replied slipping it on. She chuckled inside at how the jock’s p-coat dwarfed her.

Addison wanted to smile at the sight of Elle wearing her coat. It was considerably too large, but the blonde still managed to look so alluring to the athlete. Nervously Addison shoved her hands into the front pockets of her tight jeans. “Listen, I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable tonight during the game. Kit was just trying to help me out, but she could’ve been a little less crude.”

Elle shrugged. “Well, she just wanted you to have something to remember on your birthday I guess. I know you’ve always wanted to kiss one of the Delta Nus.” she mumbled turning her back on her friend.

The tall woman shook her head. “You know, Elle, as much as I’ve said that, that’s not really true. I’ve never just wanted any Delta Nu. There’s only been one I’ve ever truly desired.” she whispered. “I only wanted the president.” she stated moving behind the blonde and sliding her arms around the small waist. Elle shivered in her arms. “I’ve only ever wanted you, Elle. You’re the queen of my heart, always have been.” she murmured against the tiny ear as her nose nuzzled Elle’s blonde hair.

Elle gasped at the unexpected gesture, and it was hard for her to even process the information she was just presented as Addison’s hands snaked into the coat. They mapped across the cashmere sweater, taking in her flat midsection and hips as the athlete’s mouth kissed along her soft neck. The blonde’s head began to spin and her body respond to the sensuous feeling, but she suddenly jolted back to reality when those same hands found her breasts. Instantly Elle jerked away from Addison’s arms, retreating a few steps away as she wrapped the jacket more securely around her body. She looked up at the dark-haired woman. Addison’s eyes were showing confusion, but the tall woman said nothing at first as she slid her hands back in her pockets.

They were uneasily quiet for several moments until Addison took a deep breath and stated, “Elle, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I just thought...”

“Your hands made your thoughts clear.” the blonde quipped looking away uncomfortably. “Look, I know it’s your birthday and all, but I’m just not sure I can be whatever it is that you want me to tonight.”

“I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.” quickly Addison stated. “Elle, I thought you were interested in me. I never would’ve made a move if that weren’t the case. Am I totally off base, because if I am, I’m so sorry.”

Elle shook her head. “Addison, I don’t want you to pretend to like me in return just to get laid tonight. I know you don’t feel the same, so don’t act like you do. I might be blonde, but I’m not dumb. I can see through your charade.”

“Elle, do you actually think I would try to take advantage of you? I love you.”

“I know you do as a friend. Don’t ruin what little we have left of our relationship by being fake with me, Addy.”

“Being fake?” Addison questioned with obvious affront. “Elle Deanne Woods, I am in love with you! I have been since the first time I saw you four years ago! You’re all I’ve ever wanted! I can’t believe you would accuse me of being fake! You’re the one that’s being false! You love me too, but you shut me out as a way to convince people that you’re what everyone wants you to be! I’m tired of it, Elle! I’m tired of being put on the back burner, brushed aside, and generally ignored! I want you, and I’m tired of sitting back and watching the opportunity slip further and further out of my reach!” she yelled crossing arms angrily.

Elle’s knees felt weak as she stood there taking in the words Addison had just proclaimed. She knew the brunette was telling the truth, and suddenly things were confusing to her as well. Of all the times she had tried to capture the tall woman’s attention, why hadn’t she seen that she had already succeeded. However one questioned still loomed over her, so she quietly inquired, “Then why didn’t you stay with me that night?”

The athlete let out the breath she was holding. “Oh, Elle, I didn’t want us to move too far too fast. You had a lot to drink that night, too much in my opinion to make for a romantic first encounter. You have no idea how hard it was for me to walk away. I wanted you so badly that night, and when offered yourself to me, I wanted to accept. Every fiber of my being wanted to be with you, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. I’ve often dreamed of that moment between us, and I wanted it to be special. You’re not some bimbo that I met at bar and laid. You’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved. You deserve the world, and I want to be the one to give it to you.” she confessed slowly stepping toward the blonde. When Elle showed no sign of retreating, Addison once again enfolded the woman of her dreams in her arms. “Elle, will you please let me give you everything you ever wanted?”

Elle nodded. “Oh, Addy, I love you.”

“I love you too. This was the second part of my wish you know. I wished that you would take me as your girlfriend.”

Giving a smile that made her eyes sparkle, the blonde answered playfully, “Well, now it’s time to take care of that first part.” She raised onto her tips toes as she pulled Addison’s head down for a slow kiss.

It ended after several moments. Grinning stupidly the jock said, “This has to be the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Elle gave a sexy smile whispering, “You know I think you were busy feeling me up when I interrupted you. Perhaps you’d like to continue that?”

The brunette groaned lightly at the invitation. “Oh, I want to do more than that but when the time is right. For now I think we should get back to the party. I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to us and will come looking any minute. Unless you wanted to be outed as a little lesbo at my party, we better stop for now.” she joked.

Elle’s face became serious. “About that. You wouldn’t mind if this was just between us for now, would you? I mean you can tell Kit, because I’ll probably tell Stacy, but can we just keep it quiet right now? If this gets around campus, Craig might come after you, and I don’t want anything to happen now that I have you.”

“Sure, sweetie. That’s fine with me. I’m just glad to have you for my own. Come on. Let’s get back.” Curving an arm around the blonde’s shoulders, Addison escorted her back into the house.

They tried to sneak back in to the party unnoticed, but Addison’s eyes found her best friend’s. Kit was giving a knowing grin as she approached. “Nice lipstick.” she whispered teasingly. The blonde and brunette both blushed as Addison immediately wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I guess your wish came true, huh?”

Giving her departing girlfriend’s posterior a stare as Elle made her way over towards Stacy, Addison replied, “In more ways than one. I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“That good? Don’t tell me you got in her jeans already.”

The president shook her head. “Tonight I’m going to lay Elle Woods.” she stated with her usual confident smirk.

Kit slapped her on the back as she laughed. “Well, you need to at least wait until we come back from the club. You still want to go, don’t you, or are you going to dump me for some Delta Nu snatch?”

Hearing the slight potential jealousy of her friend, Addison answered, “Don’t you worry. We’re still going. Elle is as good as mine now. I can put off that pleasure for a few hours. Besides seeing her dance might get me going even more. I know the first time I took her to this club, I wanted to jump her so badly. The way she moves those little hips of hers is enough to drive me mad.”

“All right. I think we should round up the troops then. It’s after eleven already.”

Many of the women from the party decided to continue on to the club, so the celebration carried over to all of Addison’s many club friends. As the jock was busy socializing with women Elle didn’t know, the blonde sat on a bar stool next to Stacy and Kit. “So, you finally gave in.” Stacy mentioned.

The blonde nodded. “I have no idea why I didn’t do this before. Look at her. She’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” dreamily the sorority girl admitted watching Addison from afar. The tall woman was swaying ever so slightly to the music as she conversed with people, putting her perfect backside on display to the small woman. Elle was on fire. She wanted physical contact with the brunette like she needed air. Slipping off her stool, she let her emotions pull her toward her desire. Addison didn’t see her coming being that she was faced away from her but that didn’t stop Elle from sliding up to her from behind and grabbing that heavenly posterior in both her hands. The tall athlete jumped in surprise as she quickly turned to see who had violated her space. Blue eyes met brown. “I don’t like being ignored.” Elle teased. “You’re flirting days are over, Miss Miller. You’ve been spoken for.” she stated pulling the jock out to the dance floor by the belt loops.

Addison gave a grin at the petite woman’s behavior. She often fantasized about Elle being shy and reserved, forcing the softball player to be the aggressive one, but there were times when she dreamed of the blonde being bold and assertive. Seeing the audaciousness come to life, Addison found herself more inflamed with passion, knowing that Elle wanted her just as much as she did the Delta Nu. Without pretense Elle wrapped her arms around the slim waist of her girlfriend and began a sensual grind into her. Addison moaned as she responded in kind. The rest of the evening everyone else was forgotten as the two new lovebirds had eyes only for each other. Finally they decided to leave the club before the rest of the group, taking Elle’s Mercedes back to campus. The blonde even let Addison drive the fine machinery much to the brunette’s delight. However as she pulled the car to a stop in front of her sorority, they looked at each other somewhat awkwardly. Things were moving so quickly between them that night, and it seemed obvious that they would go up to Addison’s room to make their connection complete, but as the athlete looked across the seat at her girlfriend, she wondered if it would be better for them to wait, even as much as she wanted to forge ahead.

Elle saw the debate on the tall woman’s face. Reaching over to her leg, she rubbed Addison’s thigh gently as she asked, “What’s on your mind, Addy?”

Addison looked at the blonde’s hand intently rubbing her inner thigh through her jeans before making eye contact. Concluding honesty would be the best way to go, she answered, “I really want to ask you to come upstairs with me right now.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” Elle replied. “We can watch a movie or something.” she offered, deliberating testing the waters, because she knew what Addison really wanted.

The brunette looked out the window for a moment before stating plainly, “Or something is more what I had in mind. I was thinking that I wanted to ask you up to have sex with you.”

When Addison looked at her again, Elle felt her heart drop between her thighs as the throbbing pulse became more persistent in a way she had never experienced. Suddenly her breathing was shallow as if she had been doing her normal exercise routine, and she found it difficult to think. “Addy.” she whispered.

“Wait, Elle. Before you feel the need to say something, I just want you to know that I’m not going to ask you to come up for sex right now.”

“Why not?” the blonde inquired with surprise and disappointment on her face.

The softball player smiled. “Because, Elle, I love you. I haven’t been tested in awhile, and I think I should be before we decide to do this.”

“Is there a chance that there is a problem?” Elle asked hesitantly.

“No. Not at all but I just want to make sure. You deserve that, and I have my own reasons too.”

“Such as?” Elle queried, wondering if something was potentially wrong with Addison that she wasn’t admitting to. She hoped that wasn’t the case.

Addison slipped an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders as she leaned in to the blonde’s ear. “Elle, I’ve never had unprotected sex in my life, but I want you in a way I’ve never wanted any other woman. I want to be able to touch you, the real you without being inhibited by any barriers.” she whispered kissing the fair-headed woman’s neck sensuously as her hand crept up between Elle’s legs. “I want to be able to feel and taste you from the inside. I’ve dreamed of how you smell and taste, Elle, like honeysuckle and strawberries. I’ve fantasized about what my tongue would do to you, how I would give you the ultimate pleasure.” she sexily uttered letting her tongue trace the curvature of the blonde’s ear before spearing into it lightly as her hand gave the seam of Elle’s jeans a persistent squeeze to make her point.

Elle’s hips reacted reflexively, rocking into the pressure as the little woman gave a breathy moan. “Oh, God, Addy.”

“But I can’t do that until I’m tested, because I want to make absolutely certain that I can give you all those things without concern. That is if you want them.” she murmured meeting those blue eyes of her dreams.

Seeing the brown eyes she adored holding such love for her, Elle completely melted. Addison’s arousing words and hands were already working wonders on her body, but the tall woman’s eyes caressed her soul. “Oh, Addison, I love you so much. Promise me you’ll get tested over the break?”

“Of course. This will give us something to look forward to when we get back.”

“I think this might be the first time I’m dreading vacation. I don’t want to be without you for two and half weeks.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right by your side every moment until I leave for the airport tomorrow.”

“Let’s not talk about that now.” Elle whispered kissing Addison with intent. “There are better ways to spend our last few hours together.”

Neither realized that they had an audience as they sought each other’s bodies out again. They were so involved in each other that they never saw Craig approach the car. Both of them jolted though as a bat came through the driver’s side window. “Get out of the car, Miller!” he screamed.

“Addison, no. Don’t do it. He’s drunk. He’s going to hurt you.” Elle pleaded when she saw Addison contemplating the situation.

“Call the police, Elle. I’m going to take care of this.”

“Please, Addy. I’m begging you. Don’t.”

“Get out here now, or I’ll come get you!” he threatened.

Addison sighed. She knew this was going to get ugly fast. “Elle, whatever you do, don’t let him near you. You take my keys and go up to the house or stay in the car until the police get here.” Elle dialed the police as soon as Addison got out of the car as Addison had instructed, but she refused to leave her girlfriend outside alone with her psychotic ex.

Addison took a few steps away from the car but kept a distance between herself and the drunken man with the bat. “All right, Craig. I’m out of the car. What do you want?”

“I want what’s mine!” he yelled.

“I don’t have anything that belongs to you, Craig.”

“I want Elle back, you fucking dyke!”

Trying to remain calm, Addison calmly answered, “Well, she’s not mine to give. Elle is her own person. The only one that can make her come back to you is her. I can’t, nor do I want to.”

Suddenly there was movement in the shadows and what started as a one on one situation became even more dangerous when two of Craig’s friends lurked into the dimly moonlit street. Addison glanced around at the three of them warily as they circled her. She knew that her biggest fear of being gay bashed was about to come to life, but to make it worse, Elle was going to witness the event. A brief struggle ensued, but she was no match for the two guys, who soon held her captive by the arms even as much as she struggled. Craig approached smiling complacently with the bat slung over one shoulder.

“You know, Miller, you could be attractive if you just learned to act like a girl. I could show you.” he offered his hand trailing over her body down to the crotch of her jeans. He laughed lightly. “My, my. Elle certainly has you hot and bothered. Is she as wet as you are?”

Unable to do anything, Addison spit in his face. “Fuck you, Craig.” she growled. Instantly the end of the bat connected solidly with her stomach. Addison winced from the pain as she gasped for air. The blow would’ve made her keel over, but she was held upright by her captors.

“Thanks for the invite, Addison, but I’m actually saving myself for Elle. She’s put me off long enough. Now it’s time for her to get it too for playing with me all these years.”

“Over my dead body.” Addison challenged trying in vain to get free.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already arranged for that, but I want you to watch first.” he mentioned tapping her in the temple with the bat hard enough to make his intension obvious.

Elle frantically watched the development unfolding before her. She was terrified for her girlfriend, but she didn’t know what to do. She knew it would be to Addison’s disadvantage to get out of the car to try to help, because there was no way she could hold her own against any of the three, and her girlfriend would have to try to defend them both. However she couldn’t just sit there in the car watching and waiting for the cops to arrive.

Seeing Craig moving toward her, she knew this was her one chance to come to the aid of the woman she loved. She reached across to the ignition and pulled her pepper spray off her key chain, hiding it up her sleeve as the baseball player reached her door. She rolled down the window half way when he knocked. “What do you want, Craig? Let Addison go. This is between you and me.”

“I’ll make you a deal, Elle. I’ll let your precious girlfriend go unharmed, but you have to do something for me.”

“Anything. Just let her go.” she pleaded.

“Anything?” Craig questioned his eyes perusing her body. “Is she really worth a good fuck?”

Elle looked over at Addison who was still struggling and yelling, “Don’t do it, Elle! It’s not worth it!”

Meeting Craig’s eyes again, she responded, “Anything, Craig. It’s just my body. She’ll always have my heart.”

“Very well. That’s enough for me. Give me what has always been mine.” Craig stated with victorious smile as he reached for the door handle to get into the car. As soon as he did, Elle raised her hand to the window, spraying him in the face with her pepper spray. He screamed dropping the bat as he doubled over and covered his eyes in pain. Without missing a beat, the blonde forcefully pushed her car door open, hitting him in the head with it as hard as she could. He fell to the ground as she hopped out and grabbed the bat. Hitting him over the back with it with all her might, she quickly turned to Addison.

The brunette was stunned at the blonde’s ingenuity. She had actually taken down her potential assailant and was starting to come for the two that held the jock captive when the sound of sirens broke the air. The two other men took off leaving Addison and Elle standing in the middle of the street just staring at each other as the cops pulled up to the scene. Craig was still whimpering in pain on the ground and unable to escape.

“Elle.” Addison whispered as the blonde began to tremble. The tall woman reached to embrace her. “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s fine.”

“I hit him with a bat, Addy.” she muttered.

“You defended yourself, Elle, and you defended me. No one would blame you for what you did.” she tried to convince her as the police made a cautious approach.

Addison spoke first being the more calm and rational of the two of them. She tried to comfort Elle the best she could, but she could tell the blonde was struggling with her own display of violence. Fortunately the police on the scene were understanding of the situation, also assuring the little woman of her actions. By the time Craig was hauled off in an ambulance and the two women were left to their own devices after giving their statements, Kit and Stacy had arrived back at the house from the club.

The foursome moved inside to retire for the night but only after Addison retold the highlights of the encounter with Craig. As Elle and Addison prepared for bed, the softball catcher noticed how quiet the little woman was. Cuddling in the twin bed after changing clothes, Addison asked, “Are you all right, Elle?”

“I was so scared, Addy. I can’t believe I hit him with that bat. I could’ve killed him.”

“You did what you had to in order to defend yourself.”

“I just don’t know what came over me. I was enraged with the way he was hurting you. I realize now that I would’ve done anything to get him to stop. I couldn’t let him hurt you. It was bad enough I allowed him to sexually assault you and hit you with that bat.”

“It’s okay. He just groped me. It wasn’t that big of a deal considering what he said he would do to you. I felt the same way you did. I would’ve killed him or died trying to stop him from raping you. There was no way I would’ve been able to look myself in the mirror had that happened.”

“That’s why I offered myself. I didn’t want him to hurt you even more. I couldn’t stand it.” she cried softly.

“Shh. It’s all right. We’re both safe now. You saved us. You’re my heroine, Elle Woods. You stood up against my greatest enemy in my defense and won. You have my admiration and adoration.”

Elle caressed Addison’s face in the dark. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I don’t think Craig will be bothering us any more.”

“I love you, Addison Miller.”

“I love you too, Elle Woods.” she answered kissing her girlfriend’s lips gently as she tightened her hold on the blonde.

Elle giggled lightly. “You know, I’m sorry he interrupted us in the car. Things were getting good.”

“Yes, they were.” the brunette growled sexually in agreement.

“About what you said, now that my brain has started working again, I just want you to know that I understand and agree with you about waiting until you’re tested. It just shows even more how caring and thoughtful you are. Of course I should tell you that I have fantasies about our first time too.”

“Tell me.”

“I want it to be romantic and special. Maybe we could go away together, just so it’s only the two of us. No Kit, Stacy, school, Delta Nus, or Lambda Kappas, just you and me. I want to know what it’s like to really be loved, Addy. I want to look in your eyes and see them gazing at me adoringly as they always do the moment I feel you inside of me for the first time.” she whispered, feeling confidence in the dark to reveal her deepest secrets. Hearing the uneven exhale of her girlfriend, Elle knew she had the woman’s full attention.

“What else, Elle?” Addison questioned.

Encouraged by the question, she continued, “I want to hold your body close to mine. I want to feel the weight of you on top of me as you take me to places I’ve never been before.”

The brunette gave a groan. “Elle Woods, you might be the death of me talking that way. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Giggling lightly Elle let her hand slip off Addison’s hip and between her thighs. Fingering the flannel boxers, she felt the heat emanating from her girlfriend’s body. “Oh, I think I do.” she replied.

The softball player’s head was swooning as petite fingers teasingly trailed under the hem of her shorts to her bare leg. “You’re going to get yourself into a whole lot of trouble doing that.” she warned. “I’m not a woman known for my patience. Much more of that and I might say to hell with waiting. I just have to take you right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” the blonde contested. In a flurry of movement, Elle suddenly found herself pinned under a strong body. Addison’s breathing was erratic and shallow as it brushed across her face. The athlete’s large hands swiftly peeled Elle’s pink flannel night shirt away. The debutante responded with a small gasp. She knew for a fact that Addison would keep her word, but she enjoyed pushing her to the edge, so she returned the effort, slipping the dark t-shirt off her girlfriend. They exchanged gazes in the dark. Addison moved her hands to either side of the blonde’s tiny pink and white floral bikinis. She raised her brow questioningly at the little woman. Knowing that this was a no lose situation for her, Elle simply raised her hips off the bed in invitation. Within seconds she was laying bare to her girlfriend’s gaze.

Addison took a moment to glance over Elle’s nakedness in the semi-darkness. Her pale skin almost glowed in the faint light of the moon. The jock whimpered at the sight of the beauty before her. In her entire life she had never seen a woman as flawless to her as Elle. “You are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.” she confessed. “Every inch of you is so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re beyond perfect.” Her hand lightly caressed the blonde’s side before running up to her breast in adoration.

The Delta Nu’s body responded to the gentle yet knowing touch, her chest slightly rising into it. “You make me feel beautiful, Addy.” Their eyes met again.

“I love you, Elle Woods.”

“I love you too, Addison Miller. Thank you for being mine.” The small woman pulled Addison’s half naked frame down into her own for a kiss. “I want you so badly. I wish we didn’t have to wait.”

“I know, but I can still make you feel good other ways.” the catcher promised letting her mouth trail down her girlfriend’s neck to her breasts.

Elle gasped lightly as she felt her lover’s mouth adoring her femininity. Even as much as she desperately wanted Addison to go back on her word, the brunette never pushed for more that evening, leaving Elle longing for the day they could make love for the first time. If the athlete’s mouth was any indication, the blonde knew ecstasy awaited her when they could be together completely. As they drifted to sleep that night, Elle lovingly caressed Addison’s dark hair as the jock snuggled into her naked chest. The little woman had never felt so content with anyone else in her entire life. She felt protected under the weight of her lover and yet there was a vulnerability in the tall woman that Elle found endearing.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/alex_tryst_tdatd1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
Spol/rod: žensko
Ja sam: lezbijka
Status: U vezi
Lokacija: Karlovac

Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 03 ruj 2012 22:44

Zašto da ne? :)
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

Avatar
Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
Spol/rod: žensko
Ja sam: lezbijka
Status: U vezi
Lokacija: Karlovac

Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 03 ruj 2012 22:55

Japan u 10.st...sraz dviju različitih kultura...britanske i japanske...

~ Avenging Angel ~
by Aurelia

Time has lost all meaning for me as I am pushed and prodded in a direction that I cannot see. I have given up talking, because each time I have said something I have received a buffet on the shoulder for my trouble. I estimate that we are near the docks for I can smell the sea. A fresh breeze flutters the bag over my head and I am glad for a little fresh air in the confined space. I am pulled up short and shoved to one side. Again, angry words are exchanged and there is a whisper of drawn swords. I dare not move. A step in any direction could put me in the path of an errant swipe. The clang of metal on metal is harsh and quick, each time becoming a little less noisy, until there appears to be only two combatants. A groan meets my ears and I am fearful as to whose clutches I am now in. Large hands surround my arms, pulling me towards him.

"Come."

I blindly look up at the source of the voice. This is the first word that has been spoken to me since my capture. Is this one of those thugs who took me in the square or is this someone else? The grasp is firm but not harsh, giving me hope that this may be my saviour. I am led away, the rough cloth bag still in place over my head, travelling down some narrow side streets by the feel of my dress hitting the walls of the buildings. Some time later, I am gently guided up some steps and pulled through a door. Moments pass and I nervously await the outcome. The bag is finally removed from my head and my eyes protest at the bright light of day. Instinctively, I close them, giving myself moments before slowly opening them again. I am looking at a wall, solid but fragile. I have never seen a house like this before. Delicate like a butterfly wing but strong enough to stand the elements. Strange. My hands are finally free and I step away from the body behind me. I swivel to face my captor, having to look up to see the face. Long fingers reach up to remove the woven hat, exposing the face underneath. Time stands still as we look at one another. I cannot breathe. It is a woman. My saviour is a European woman. I quickly study her face and I see her squirm under my regard. My eyes slip down the long body, unaware that I am giving her a frank perusal. Her long dark hair is tied back in the style that some Japanese men wear, and her chest appears to be bound, giving her the look of a male. She turns away and removes her sword, placing it reverently on a nearby stand. She kneels and bows, murmuring some sort of prayer that I cannot hear. Once her supplication is complete, she turns her attention to me.

"What is your name?" That voice is low and raspy and hits a chord within me, the likes of which I have never felt before.

I have to think for a moment because I cannot remember my name. "Clarissa. Clarissa Hughes."

"Well, Clarissa Hughes, you will be here for a little while. It is not yet safe for you to return home."

"What about my father?"

"I am sorry, he will have to fret for a little while longer."

"Am I prisoner here?"

"No, but I would strongly advise that you do not leave."

"Why?"

"Because those shishi were hired to capture you, possibly for ransom. You are safe here."

"Shishi?"

"Samurai." This woman uses few words.

"Who are you?"

"A friend." That deep, dark voice hints of danger. The energy emanating from her skitters across my skin, making the fine hairs stand up on end. I look up into those pale blue pools that are her eyes and see no malice towards me there. In fact, there seems to be confusion. She abruptly turns away. "Are you hungry?"

"In fact, I am."

"Good. Wait here." She is putting a lot of trust in me that I won't just walk out the front door. The thought crosses my mind for a moment and just as quickly dissipates. I am intrigued by this woman. Who is she?

I am bored. The room is sparse and I have investigated everything ten times over, except the sword. Somehow I feel that there will be trouble if I touch it. I spare some moments for my fallen companions, and feel a sad loss at such a waste of human life. Those shishi, as my rescuer calls them, did not even ask for me, but killed all who stood in their way and took me. Those poor souls' fates were sealed by being with me, and I know I will feel that guilt for a long time to come. I go in search of my saviour, tracing her steps through the corridors towards the back of the house where I find her kneeling, her eyes closed as if she is sleeping. A small pot is boiling on an open fire, rice cooking in its murky depths.

"Um, what am I to do now?"

Her pale eyes slowly open and she slowly exhales. Her head swivels to me and she studies me without a word. Finally, that alto voice speaks, vibrating low in my ear. "Well, Clarissa Hughes, the rice will take as long as it takes rice to cook. Do not be in such a hurry."

"Who are you?" I need a name.

"You can call me Etsuko."

"Etsuko?"

"My adopted name."

"And what is your European name?"

"I was born in America." That is what is different. I can tell there is something more to that accent.

"And, Etsuko, how did you come to Japan?" Her lips purse at the question but she remains silent. "Sorry, just making conversation."

She looks over to the food and makes the final preparations to the meal. She hands over a bowl and promptly uses her fingers to remove the food from her own bowl. I know I have a look of incredulity on my face because I can feel my facial muscles tighten in response. She lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers, slipping them into the bowl to fetch a piece of fish and pop it in her mouth. I sit down as best I can, the crinoline puffing up around me like a cloud. My lace pantaloons peek out under the dress, and I try vainly to tuck my legs under cover. A shy smile touches her features, taking away the frown that adds lines of age and experience to her young face. I cannot help but smile in response.

"This is certainly not the best thing to be sitting on the floor in."

"Perhaps I can help later."

Help? My body tingles at the thought. I barely keep my balance as I eat, the hoops continually trying to push me over. I look up from my meal, my fingers dabbling in the rice. "How long am I going to be here?"

"That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether it is safe for you to return or not." She is not going to give me a straight answer. I am going to have to trust a perfect stranger with my life.

Despite my best efforts, this tall woman refuses to be drawn into any deep conversation. She is polite to me, but aloof, content to remain on the edge of my friendship. I have been observing her throughout our meal and she has been studiously avoiding eye contact with me. What have I done to offend her? She stands, extending a hand down to help me to my feet.

"Follow me."

What else is there to do? I follow. She leads me towards the front of the house again, this time entering a room off the entrance, which appears to be the bedroom. She moves over to a low box, extracting a bright red kimono and handing it to me.

"You can sleep in this."

I look up into those azure eyes, watching as they skitter away from my gaze. I don't understand it. Am I that ugly to look at? Perhaps she senses my hurt, because a large hand comes up to my chin and captures it, bringing her eyes once more in contact with mine for a moment, before she turns away and leaves me to wrestle myself out of all the frills and flounces I am wrapped in.

It is so much easier to have a maid help you out of this dress and I am tempted to call for help. She is a woman, after all, and this cannot be all that foreign to her. Now, what was her name? "Excuse me." There is a moment's silence before I hear the whisper of the door sliding open. "Can you help me?" I smile in memory of those same words from her lips only an hour ago.

I look over my shoulder at her and those eyes widen, panic set in those features as she prepares to run. "Please…" That one word pins her in place, awaiting my next command. "I can't reach the buttons. Are you able to help me?" Turning away, I present my back to her in invitation.

Nervous fingers find the buttons and struggle to feed them through the eyelets. I can feel her shaking vibrate through the material, and I cannot help but look over my shoulder at her again. Our eyes meet and I am so close that I can see something in those depths, but I am not sure what I see. She is scared, but of what? Of me? She is my saviour, so what have I done to terrify her like this?

I say the only thing I can think of to appease her. "I'm sorry." She looks up, her brow wrinkles in apprehension. "I don't know what I've done to upset you, but forgive me."

"You've done nothing wrong." Despite what she says, I know that I am the source of her distress. She continues silently until all the buttons are undone. "There."

"You're not staying?" She gives me a look that answers my question. "What if I need help with this?" I hold up the kimono, trying in vain to get her to stay. Why do I want her with me?

"Call me when you have the garment on." The room is so empty without her, and I am loathe to examine that thought. I have known her only a matter of a few hours and I already think of her more than a casual acquaintance.

My mind turns to her as I strip off my clothes, consciously unaware of my body's reaction. The layers slowly come off but I feel no cooler. Finally, I am down to the corset and begin unlacing it slowly, expanding my chest as the lace loosens. I cast the garment aside, resting there in just my bloomers and breathe deeply, enjoying the air on my skin. So rarely do I get the chance to just stand there unfettered that I do not notice a groan escaping my lips. My samurai rushes into the room, ready for danger, and is met with a half-naked woman. Mutely, we stand there looking at each other, she ogling my breasts and me watching her watching me. Precious moments go by in silence, neither of us wanting to be the first to move. Estuko raises her eyes to mine. We are both clearly perplexed about this and I break the deadlock by putting on the kimono, letting the crisp cotton slide over my skin. A small gasp escapes my lips as the material skims my nipples, and my eyes close in reaction. I pull the garment around me and seconds pass before I can face her. I am greeted by those sapphire eyes, now hooded and darkened, studying me with deliberation. What is going on here? I have never felt anything like what I feel now. There is a gentle tugging inside me that is pulling me towards her, and I don't know why. Perhaps she is feeling the same. Should I be worried? Should she?

Estuko approaches me, holding a sash, and closes the garment, wrapping it carefully around my body and tying it off neatly with the sash. "Obi" she whispers.

"Sorry?"

"The sash is called an obi."

I could not have cared less. Her arms slide away from me and I feel a great loss, my emotions are careening wildly with her so close. I step away, letting the space between us act as a barrier to her magnetism, drawing me into her orbit. She is a fascinating woman, and I want to know more.

My tall warrior carries my clothes and deposits them in a corner, leaving momentarily to return with rolled up mats. She lays them out carefully on the floor, finding coverings to complete the ensemble. She points to the floor and I look at her in disbelief. "You don't expect me to sleep there, do you?" She merely nods.

Where is my four-poster bed and fluffy mattress? I watch as she crawls into bed, mimicking her actions as I take my place beside her. We are facing one another, listening to the creak of the beams overhead as the house cools in the evening air.

"Good night, Clarissa Hughes." I grab her hand as she prepares to turn away from me. Her eyes follow my hand, and I see that startled look again. Perhaps she feels something too. She certainly seems scared of me being so near.

"What is going to happen to me?"

"You will be returned to your father when I think it is safe to do so."

"You keep saying that. When?"

"Are you in such a hurry to put yourself in danger again?"

"Of course not. But I will be safe once I am home." Her silence is not comforting and I wish to question her on it.

"What makes you think that the danger is not within your own home?"

I am struck dumb. Danger within the Embassy itself?

"Why do you say that?"

"The shishi would have just killed you, not taken you ransom. Someone hired them."

"Who are these shishi?"

"They are samurai who have pledged themselves to restoring Japan to the old ways, ridding this land of foreigners. You, Clarissa, are their next target."

"And what are samurai?"

"For want of a better term, they are warriors, bound in the beginning of their existence to serve the Emperor in his army. Over time their service to the royal house moved to his representatives, the daimyo, and they became the ruling class on their own. The purity of their beliefs slowly degraded over time, pledging loyalty to the local warlord, the shogun, until some are as you see now, nothing more than hired assassins. They have disgraced their bushido."

"Bushido?" All this talk has made me realize that I am a novice in this country, barely able to crawl, let alone walk, in the understanding of the history of this complex nation.

"It is the unwritten code of the samurai. It is a way of life and a way of honour."

"And you… you still hold your bushido in your heart?" That dark head nods gently, her conviction shining in her lapis eyes. My hand reaches up and cups her face, a touch that she surprisingly does not back away from. Her emotions run deep in this matter, and I sense she is a woman of great honour. I will have to bow to her greater experience concerning my protection.

"How do you say 'thank you'?"

"Arigatou."

"Arigatou, Etsuko." She smiles at my sad attempt to please her. But I have made the effort and that seems to have counted for something.

"You are welcome, Clarissa Hughes."

I give her a smile of my own, letting my emotion show in my own pale green eyes. We lie facing one another for long moments, absorbing the emotion flowing between us without the interference of communication. Our eyes express themselves better than either of us can verbally. In the silence of the paper house, we fall asleep as we were awake, our hands bound together.

http://www.xenafiction.net/scrolls/aure ... angel.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 04 ruj 2012 23:42

Opet malo prirode...konji i ranč....nasljedstvo ....gradska cura i djevojka sa sela...funny

~ Promises ~
by AnnieSA
(nastavak Promise Me Again)

Days went by, while Charlie and Megan stayed out of each other's way as much as possible. Charlie arranged for another desk to be carried into the study for Megan to work at, but they were never there at the same time. Charlie caught up on all the paperwork that she had neglected for so long, but was frustrated with not being able to just go about a normal day as usual because of the cast. She would drive around in the truck with Rubin, but wasn't really of any use except for giving instructions.
Charlie got used to hearing Megan call for help every night after the accident. On the second night she tried to will herself not to listen, and just to go back to sleep, but she couldn't. Eventually she got up and went to Megan's room. She once again wouldn't wake up, and Charlie just comforted her. It became a nightly routine, and Charlie found herself lying in bed waiting for that call. During the day she would look at Megan, thinking how different she was when she was awake. Charlie thought of speaking to Megan about her dreams, but also felt that she would be losing something precious if the nightly calls weren't there. Megan tried to keep herself busy with reading, and organising her business over the phone and internet. She made sure that she was never in the study when Charlie got there, and never went in if she was there already.

Katrina refused to let their actions get to her, so she went about her days as usual, and chatted to them as she normally did. She was going through some of her old recipe books when Megan walked in. "Hi Kat," she greeted. "I need some advice from you."

Kat smiled and gestured for her to sit down at the kitchen table. "I can definitely try."

"I need to find something to do, or I'm going to die of boredom. I've only been here four weeks now; how am I going to survive the rest of the year?"

"Have you thought of helping out on the farm?"

"No, I'm not really a hard labour person, and aren't there workers to do that?"

"Yes, they're working, but they each have their own duties. Even Charlie worked every day. Now we are two workers short because of her and Martin."

"What is it you think I can help them with?" Megan asked with a sceptical look.

"That you will have to ask Rubin, but I know they would appreciate any help."

"I suppose doing almost anything is better than sitting around bored out of my skull." Megan got up to leave.

"Wait, maybe you could help me first."

Megan stopped. "I can't cook."

"No, it's nothing like that. I need someone to help me clean the chicken coop."

"Why don't you just get one of the workers to do it?"

"Like I said before, they all have their own duties. I normally pay little Harry do it for me when he's here, but the schools have started again. When Harry isn't here, Charlie normally helps me, but now she is out of action."

Charlie walked into the kitchen as Katrina spoke about her. "I'm out of action for what?"

"I just asked Megan to help me clean the chicken coop, seeing that you can't do it."

Charlie looked at Megan, then back at Katrina again. "Her?" She nodded towards Megan with her head. "In the chicken coop?" She laughed "Not in this lifetime."

"Don't be nasty Charlie." Katrina could see that Megan was not happy with Charlie's remark. The last thing she felt like now was seeing another argument between the two of them. "Megan has already said she'd help." Katrina sent up a silent prayer that Megan wouldn't correct her statement.

Charlie laughed again, shaking her head. "That I have to see."

"You're so full of yourself aren't you?" Megan said coldly. "I'm not here for your entertainment, and if I say I'll do something, I will." Megan just hoped that her words wouldn't come back to bite her, because she had no idea what the cleaning process would entail.

Katrina moved towards Megan and took her by the arm. "Let's go Megan. There is no time like the present." They were walking away when Megan turned to Charlie who was hobbling afterwards. "You were not invited. Go and find something else to amuse you."

"At this moment, I can't think of anything else that will be more amusing," Charlie said with a smirk on her face.

"She's right Charlie, go and find something else to do." Katrina was trying to defuse the situation, because Megan looked like she was ready to explode and afflict some bodily harm on Charlie.

Katrina and Megan walked towards the chicken coop that was about five minutes walk away from the house.

"Why do you have chickens when this is not a chicken or an egg farm?"

"I only have enough chickens to supply everyone on the farm with fresh eggs and chickens. You've seen our vegetable garden, which is here for the same purpose. For me, part of the joy of living on a farm is having everything fresh. There's nothing better."

"What does this cleaning process entail?"

"Not much. Cleaning the feeding and watering units, sweeping the floors, and then using the water hose on it."

"That sounds simple enough."

When they reached the chicken coop, Katrina showed Megan where all the cleaning tools were. She also gave her a pair of rubber boots and gloves to put on. "Will you be ok doing this on your own?" Katrina tried hard to keep a straight face when she saw the consternation on Megan's. It looked like she had serious reservations now about her offer to help.

When Megan saw what the chicken coop looked like, with all the chicken manure on the floor, she felt nauseous. She was trying to think of a way to get out of this, but when she thought of the self-righteous smirk on Charlie's face earlier, the need to wipe it off her face was more important than all the chicken shit in the world.

"Yes, I'll be just fine. You go and do whatever you need to. This will be done in a jiffy."

"OK then. I'll have a nice lunch ready for you when you're done."

Katrina walked back to the house while Megan put the rubber boots and gloves on. This was not something she was looking forward to. She started with cleaning the feeding and watering units, and refilling them. She couldn't believe that it took her about forty minutes just to do that. She looked at the floor, and then at the hard bristle broom and the water hose Katrina had told her to use. "These people should think more productively." She had a smile on her face as she thought of her plan. "Why would you want to sweep first, and then use the hose? It would be simpler just to use the hose, and increase the water pressure. It will definitely clean everything."

Megan got to work on her plan. What she didn't realise was that using that amount of water on the chicken manure, without sweeping it away first, was making the floor very slippery.

When Katrina got back to the house, she went looking for Charlie whom she found working in the study. "Do you have to be so mean towards Megan all the time?"

"She is the one with the attitude."

"Blaming other people for your behaviour again?" Katrina was standing with her hands on her hips. "We have talked about this before Charlie. This is not the person you are, and if Claire had to see you now, she would be turning in her grave."

"Kat, there is just something about her that makes me want to climb the walls. I can't help myself."

"Then maybe you need to look where these emotions are coming from, because it isn't healthy for anyone."

"Then you should talk to Megan as well. She jumps down my throat even when I haven't done anything."

"We are not talking about Megan, we are talking about you. You are a grown woman, not a child. Start acting like one. I'm the cook in this house, not the psychologist."

"You know you are more than the cook in this house Kat. This is your home, and you are part of the family. Your advice means a lot to me."

"Good. It only has to start from one side. You will see what a difference it will make."

Megan had got about three quarters of the way through when her feet slipped out from under her. In pure cartoon character style, she was in the air for a second before she came crashing down onto her back. She hit her head on the floor and felt like she was caught in a slow motion moment. When she realised she was lying in wet chicken manure she jumped up, but the quick movement just made her slip again, but this time forward. She was covered in chicken shit, and completely pissed off at herself. She crawled to an area where she could get up without going down again. She looked around the coop, and then down at herself. She thought about just getting out of there as quickly as she could. She could slip into the house from the back, and get cleaned up before anyone could see her, but that would mean that she would have to finish cleaning the coop first. When she was done, she made her way back to the house. She could see Katrina and one of the workers in the front garden. She thought about just going in there, but didn't know where Charlie would be, so she went towards the back entrance. As she crept around the corner, she found Charlie lying on one of the pool loungers in her bikini. It looked like she was asleep. Megan wanted to turn around, but couldn't. Her eyes were fixed on Charlie's perfect body. She ran her eyes over Charlie's body from her broad shoulders to her breasts that were moving up and down as she was breathing. Megan could feel herself heating up from inside. She ran her eyes further over the washboard stomach to the muscular thighs. The only thing that looked like it didn't belong there was the cast.

Megan was shocked out of her daze when Charlie moved. "Get a hold of yourself." She was upset about her reaction to seeing Charlie like that. She moved quietly towards the door that opened into the dining room.

"I wouldn't go into the house like that if I were you."

Megan jumped at hearing the words.

"Let me guess. You decided to hose the floor without sweeping it first?" Charlie said in an even tone.

"Laugh and get it over with. This is what you waited for I'm sure," Megan said accusingly, but her voice had a defeated tone to it.

"I'll only laugh if you laugh with me. You have to admit, you do look funny with all that chicken shit on you."

Megan glared at Charlie and saw that she wasn't laughing. She turned towards the window and saw her reflection in it. She was covered in wet manure, and her hair was stringy with more pieces of manure hanging from it. She smiled and turned to Charlie. There was something strange between them right now, and Megan just felt like going along with it. "I sure do." She started laughing, after which Charlie joined in.

"Glad I could add to your amusement today by looking like a sewer rat," Megan said jokingly.

"A cute sewer rat," Charlie added.

Megan looked at her reflection again, and shook her head. "I don't think I have ever seen a cute sewer rat, and I sure don't see one now."

"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. But even though I think you look like a cute sewer rat, I think we need to get you cleaned up before you go into the house."

Megan looked at Charlie sceptically. "How do you propose we do that?"

"There are two ways. Either you go and take a dip in the pond with clothes and all, or you stand there while I hose you down. The choice is yours."

Megan thought about it for a few seconds. "I think the hosing is a better option. I don't like the idea of getting into water when I can't see what's at the bottom."

"The hose it is then," Charlie said as she got up and walked towards the outside tap with the hose attached to it. She liked the light atmosphere between them. She was aware though that it would have been different if she had just laughed at Megan, instead of talking to her first.

Charlie hosed Megan down while she turned around under the stream of water, trying to get all the chicken manure washed off. Charlie's breathing got heavier as she watched Megan laughing and turning around like a kid. The cool water was making her nipples stand out, and now that she was completely drenched, they were more prominent. She quickly turned the water off and turned to put the hose away.

"I don't think I'm completely clean yet." Megan remarked when the water stopped. She had enjoyed Charlie's eyes on her, and knew what they had been fixed on.

Charlie refused to turn around. "You're clean enough to go into the house. You can use my towel lying by the lounger."

Megan flinched at the tone in Charlie's voice. She could feel that the comfortable air between them was gone. She thought about saying something, but decided against it. She walked towards the lounger and picked up the towel. Without looking back she walked into the house. Charlie had an internal battle with herself. She wanted Megan so badly, but she knew she couldn't give into the urge. Her feelings for Megan ran deeper than just a need. What was scaring her was the idea of seeing Megan walk away after the year was done.

"Just keep it cool Charlie," she told herself. "She'll only cause you pain. All she wants is to get through this year, and then be on her merry little way back to the world that she belongs in."

Charlie watched Megan walk back into the house with the towel wrapped around herself. She felt an immense loss, but knew that the hurt would be more if they did start something, and then she had to lose her.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/anniesa_ ... again.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 05 ruj 2012 23:32

Valentinovo...prikrivena ljubav iz školskih dana...

~ A Long Valentine ~
by A. Tietz (Birdee)

Another week went by with friendly emails, a few breaks and lunch that Cleo insisted be consumed at Arby's so they could walk across the street and she picked up the tab.

Monday came and there was a cappuccino on the desk and she got an email first thing, "How were the slopes any nice scenery for ya?"

"The skiing was good; I went with my cousin Danny. But we went to Kirkwood, he's a really goooood skier, I almost never saw him. We had two runs together then he went to the more difficult runs. We stayed all day Saturday and I'm still sore but it was fun. Plenty of scenery in the lodge where I took refuge after a nasty fall. Hot chocolate never tasted so good. Thanks for the cap, but you bought lunch."

"I drove to work. Praise the Car Gods my car is healed. Runs pretty good. I'm hoping nothing else pops up needing fixing for a while. But it was worth the investment. See ya later."

"Glad about your car, have a good day."

There were plenty of emails during the week and they had a few breaks but no lunch. Cleo was making friends with people she worked with and Mindy didn't want to be jealous of her going to lunch with them, but she was. She reminded herself that friends aren't obsessed with each other and shouldn't have a crush on one another. So she tried to distance herself some the following week, not as many emails, shorter responses, didn't ask to take breaks but didn't refuse them either. She met a friend over the weekend she hadn't seen in a long time and went to a bar for a drink and some pool.

"What's new girl," Dee Dee asked as they racked up the balls.

"Not too much. Been skiing some this winter but not as fun as the festival last year."

"Do you still write what's her name Kylie, from what state?"

"Colorado. Yeah I email with her sometimes. But she's gotta a girlfriend and it keeps her busy."

"Damn girl, how'd you let that happen? Bet she's not as hot as you," Dee Dee looked her over appreciatively.

Mindy wiggled her eyebrows, "Bet she's not as good at pool either."

Dee Dee chuckled, "Or other things?"

Mindy smiled at her friend, Dee Dee was always good for her ego. They were friends and Dee Dee made it clear she'd be quite open for mutual enjoyment, but accepted that Mindy wasn't a real casual kinda gal.

So short stuff, "Did you ever get a mangy mutt?"

"I just feel too guilty you know. A dog would be alone most of the day in my small apartment. I don't want to do that to a poor little furry thing."

"You're too nice Mindy; half the people in America have dogs and most work and go to school. Fido is fine with a bone and food and he's a great greeter when ya get home. I wouldn't know what to do without my Banjo," Dee Dee was referring to her cocker spaniel poodle mix.

"Well, I ski too and I just don't feel like I'm home enough you know. It's not fair."

"Then you need a cat, a bird, some company, unless there's some company you been keepin."

"God I wish, no such luck."

"You need a job up here girl. Carson is like Hickville. The only family there hangs out at Lowe's and has a joint checking account."

"I know, but you can't beat the job I've got and I can't afford the commute. I can look for another job but I've got it so good where I am," Mindy felt the truth of that and wished she could find something as good in Reno.

"All work and no play makes me sad for Mindy. You seemed down on the phone when you called, what's on you mind sweet thang."

"What nothing. I'm fine. Hey, how bout we go to Faces at Tahoe next weekend. I'm skiing Saturday I hope, Heavenly."

"Only if you promise me some close dances with that short little body of yours, as close as I'm gonna get," Dee Dee look a little lustfully at her.

"You know me Dee Dee; I need you as my friend. But I can spare a few close dances."

"Then it's a date, mind if I leave with another girl though."

"I'm sure you will. No problem," Mindy smirked and sunk the eight ball.

Monday came and she found a Frap again.

She emailed, "You've got your own car. What's up with this? Its yummy but you shouldn't."

"I'm gonna concentrate on the yummy part. How was your weekend?"

"Good, yours?"

"I saw Kent. Yeah my dad, brother, his girlfriend and I went to dinner at the Carson Valley Inn. I stayed and played some slots, haven't donated in a long long time and well I'm good for like 5 years now. But then I saw a few people who looked familiar and it turns out they're some people from school who had come to see Kent play. His band is good, I really liked it. Even danced some, remember Freddy, short guy, he was in band in school. Anyway we danced and I talked to Kent. He's not so geeky looking anymore. Real curly dark hair, kind of unshaven, and at least he's not short. Anyway, he enjoys playing and that's how he makes his living. They play all over the area, Reno, Tahoe, Carson. He's playing up in Tahoe at the Lakeside Casino next weekend and invited me to come see them play. I might. It was fun. Anyway another week in the dungeon."

"I'm glad you had fun. Sorry gotta run, busy."

Mindy knew that Kent was a good reminder, Cleo was straight and they could be friends. That was it.

"I got your order, mam."

"Oh good, thanks Cleo," Penny saw the light in her bosses eyes as she turned around from the copier.

"Nice of you to bring it up. I'm older than I used to be and my bones appreciate it honey. Thanks for spoiling me."

"No problem, anytime Penny."

Mindy walked by, "Hi you. Thanks for bringing this up."

"Sure, gets me outta the dungeon. Hey you wanna go to lunch Mind? Short notice but my treat," Cleo followed the blonde back to her desk.

"Ah bribery, sorry I um have some errands. Gonna eat on the run."

"Well maybe another time, how's Thursday?"

"Oh, I ah, promised lunch with a…..friend."

Cleo looked a bit put off but nodded, "K……I can see you're a busy lady. Well if you can ever pencil me in let me know," she forced a smile and began turning away.

Mindy didn't want to hurt her friend and felt bad, "Wait, how bout next week. Email me a good day when you get back to your desk and I will put it on my calendar in bold capitals," she chuckled and smiled warmly.

"Wow, you'd put me on the calendar, careful, it's gonna go to my head."

"Stop it. I live by this thing here at work. So email me a time."

"Well my Outlook is really open don't really need the calendar thing so name a day and we'll go," Cleo smirked.

Mindy opened her calendar and typed in the empty lunch space for Tuesday, "LUNCH WITH CLEO."

"Oooo now its official, I feel so important," Cleo teased.

When she got back to her desk she had to laugh that Mindy had sent her a reminder of their lunch, which she accepted, and emailed, "Gee, I'm so glad you sent this reminder, otherwise, I know it just would have slipped my mind."

The return email, "Bite me."

And Cleo couldn't help but tease, "I didn't know that was an option. Hmmmmmmm."

Mindy blushed and wished the girl wouldn't do that.

Friday Cleo emailed to have a break and she didn't refuse.

"So what's up this weekend, you're skiing again right?"

"Yeah, Heavenly."

"Listen, do you want to go hear Kent that evening or will you be too tired," Cleo asked.

"Oh, ah well, I um, I'm kinda meeting a friend at another place, It's a gay bar."

Cleo nodded and tried not to look disappointed, "Snow bunny got it."

It made Mindy feel a bit guilty. She could do both, hang out for a few songs with Kent, make Cleo happy and still meet Dee Dee at Faces.

"It's not a date, we're friends and she doesn't ski. Plus the bar isn't too far from Lakeside Casino really. What time is he playing? I could probably pop in for a bit. I don't really remember the guy, so I'm kinda curious," Mindy sounded casual.

"They start at 10pm I think, is that too late?"

"Not for me, what about you granny?"

"Listen I can still surf and stay up on the beach to watch the sunrise. So I'm good," Cleo sounded proud.

"What's the band's name?"

"I think its Bourbon Street."

"Okay, I'm not sure I'll be there at 10pm, but I'll try before 11. Dee Dee might come along; she loves music, especially saxophone."

"I'm sure the more the merrier. He said they'd be playing big band stuff, smooth jazz and some dance classics, some good ol rock and roll but not a lot of new stuff, like pop music."

"Sounds good, see ya then."

"Have fun skiing."

Saturday morning at 7:30 am Mindy was reaching for the phone to hurl it across the room then suddenly registered that Cleo's voice was on the phone not in her dream, "Cleo," the question in her voice sounded groggy.

"Ewwww, bad call, I thought I'd have to catch ya early Mind. Call me when you wake up, I'll be here."

"Cleo, what's up? Something wrong honey?"

"No, no, look Mind, just sleep as long as you want and call me before you leave for the slopes okay. I'll talk to you later, go to sleep, you are very sleepy, the phone is falling out of your hand……"

"Okay, I'll call in a bit."

She needed to get up and get her butt moving anyway, she could sleep all day Sunday if she wanted. After some java with french vanilla cream she dialed Cleo.

"You didn't go back to sleep huh, damn sorry."

"I needed to get up Cleo, takes time to get ready all the gear and get up there, and yadda yadda. So I needed to get my as……butt outta the sack. What's up? No Lakeside tonight?"

"No, No I'll be there. Just kinda well, I don't want to intrude on your plans. I know you're meeting a friend and well, I didn't know if, maybe um……well if you guys were eating dinner together before the bar or I don't know maybe you ski late I ah………." she let the question trail.

"Oh, ah, no we're just meeting at the bar around 10pm. She's coming from Reno so anyway," Mindy wasn't sure if Cleo wanted to go to dinner.

"Ah, well um, like I said you've probably already got things planned, but if you didn't, I was wondering if you're eating dinner anyway, maybe we could eat together," Cleo sounded hesitant yet hopeful.

"Well, I'm usually starved after skiing, so I hit this great hamburger joint up there. It's like an old Fosters Freeze if you ever ate at one of those. I know, greasy spoon, you're shocked. But its sooooooo better than the cardboard at McDonalds. There is just no comparison."

"Hmmmm, hamburgers. Well you're right I wasn't ready for that, not from you. But if your heart is set on that and you don't mind company………."

"We don't have to go there, if you want to meet somewhere else. It really is just a burger joint with terrific shakes and fries. Filling but anyway, did you want to go somewhere else?"

"I was looking online at work and asked around. They've got a really good restaurant at the Casino, the Timber House, have you heard of it?"

"Yeah, that's way nice, kinda too rich for my pocket book I'm afraid. There's other places though, not quite as expensive," Mindy was thinking of where to suggest.

"See, here's the thing. I haven't been out out to dinner in a while. And well Kent actually asked me but I didn't want to go with him by myself. So I said maybe, that I'd have to get back to him. I know it's like asking way too much probably, but I was wondering if you'd come with us. Then it wouldn't be a real date and…….well, are you mad that I'm even asking."

Mindy felt her heart sink since moments ago she thought Cleo was asking her to dinner, even just as friends. She tried to sound casual, "Well…………you would owe me big time. Like drive me up to Tahoe for a ski run on your gas tank so I'm not out the gas money kinda big. You like the guy, but not too sure huh," Mindy was glad to be going to the bar later that night.

"I don't really know him and I don't know that I want to date yet. But sounds fun to have dinner out like at a real restaurant. And no problem about the gas for a skiing trip, you got it. And I will buy you dinner or we'll skip Kent and just go to the burger place."

Mindy really wanted just the burger place, but they were just friends and friends do this kind of stuff for each other, "Okay, I'll order something inexpensive. What time?"

"Is 6:30pm too early," Cleo questioned.

"Nah that's actually a good time. So I'll meet you at the Timber House then."

"Mindy, you are so sweet to do this. You're too nice to me. And don't you dare order something cheap. Cause it will force me to order for you and I don't know if you like Fillet Minon or Lobster Tail better and I'd have to order you both."

"I see it could be an expensive um not real date for you."

"Ha, you're the best. Have some good runs, be safe, and I'll see ya at 6:30pm."

The Timber House has a nice lodge atmosphere and was said to have really good food and after her day of skiing she was really hungry. Her mind was busying toying with ordering something cheap to see if Cleo would really order like she'd described. So she was preoccupied while walking toward the restaurant pondering and when she saw the gorgeous woman approaching her she just wasn't prepared and tried not to let her eyes bulge and jaw drop. The tall form was wearing a royal blue silk kind of blouse and warm charcoal slacks. Her lovely neck was adorn with a pretty silver necklace of a silver heart shape pendant hanging from it having a tear drop of a shinny smoky looking onyx jewel in the middle. Her earrings were the same design and glistened against her hair, which unlike usual, was flowing softly around her face except of course for her bangs. The beautiful eyes held a smile as did her pearly whites and she was so stunning Mindy stopped walking forward without knowing it. Mindy had never ever seen Cleo dressed up like this, never, not even in school. The girl had been pretty much into sports, most always having the healthy athletic tomboy look. The Junior and Senior prom Cleo looked beautiful but Mindy knew how uncomfortable Cleo was in a dress and heals. She had to spend some of the time during the proms making her pretty friend dance with Manny or the hunk of the entire school Jake the jock. But Cleo had been a girl in school, a friend. Mindy knew she was attracted to Cleo, but had still regarded her as her old high school friend. And tonight, tonight, Cleo was an absolutely drop dead gorgeous woman and she was so taken with the sight of the tall woman she lost the sense of where she was for a moment. The beautiful smile was fading and a concerned frown was beginning to crease the lovely forehead as the tall shapely form began moving forward. It was then that Mindy came to herself, hating that she'd ever said okay to this night. How the hell was she going to keep her eyes off Cleo?

She swallowed hard and put on her best buddy smile as well as she could, "Hey gorgeous. Um, I gotta say, you must like this Kent guy. I mean, um you look extremely nice. I don't think he'll even know I'm here."

"Hey, how do you know he doesn't like blondes?

"Even if he did, I doubt he'd remember that tonight. I ah didn't change as you can see," Mindy motioned to her snow pants and dark green sweater.

"They get skiers here all the time, I've seen a few already, you're fine. You fit right in little snow bunny," Cleo was looking around obviously trying to see if he was in the Casino.

"Not here yet I take it," Mindy stated the obvious.

"Anytime I'm thinking," Cleo looked at her watch which was also different. Instead of the normal sports watch she was wearing a very pretty silver watch that looked like it went with the whole ensemble.

"Did he make reservations I hope?"

"I asked at the desk and it doesn't seem like it. So I put my name in," Cleo casually looked around briefly again.

"So have you been here at all before, the casino or anything," Cleo questioned.

"Nope, I heard it had the lodge feel though, it's nice," Mindy was looking around trying not to look too much at Cleo.

"Cleo, party for three?"

Cleo shrugged her shoulders at the short one and they were seated.

Seeing Cleo look at her watch again after they sat down, she suggested, "Why don't you go out there and have another look? You can tell them who you're expecting and they can send him in?"

"See I knew I asked you here for a reason, got brains," she winked at her friend.

Mindy drank all her water and asked for a pitcher if possible.

When Cleo returned solo, "You know, I'm lucky you're here or I might be eating alone."

"He'll be here, probably band stuff or something. Does he have a cell or anything?"

"I don't know, I don't have one. Not yet. Those tests, there's one in late February for a Machine Operator I'm applying for. And Brenda said to just take any and all tests, to keep my options open. She understood about not taking the Admin stuff, but told me that not all jobs mean sitting at a desk. I do too much of that now. I might take a construction aid test, but I don't know about road crew duty," her face was a smirk.

They ordered beverages and looked at the menu since they weren't sure if he'd show. Mindy was half hoping he would and half hoping he wouldn't.

"So what looks good Miss Snow Bunny," Cleo cocked her head and smiled teasingly.

Damn she was in so much trouble, but she quickly looked back at the menu and found her voice, "Um, not sure yet. How bout you?"

"I haven't had good seafood in a while, since I got here that is. But I'm gonna hold off on that till I'm absolutely craving it. Then my disappointment probably won't be so bad. Hawaii is hard to beat for seafood if you know where to go," blue eyes surveyed the menu and Mindy stole a glance.

"Now don't go nuts, but I love prime rib and I know its on special but I really do like it. A baked potato and the works sounds so good too. So I'm leaning there," she looked questioningly at her beautiful friend.

Cleo squinted her eyes leaning a bit forward looking hard into eyes that seemed more green tonight, "Are you telling the truth Mind? I hear they have really great Fillet Minon."

"I'm sure they do, but prime rib sounds so warm and filling. I am starved like I said. Please," she pleaded with the amazing blue eyes reminding herself that the testostorone would be arriving any moment.

Cleo sighed, "Okay, okay, but someday I'm not letting you get away with it."

Mindy smiled liking the sound of a future dinner together, though she quickly cautioned herself that it would be platonic always. A dark curly headed guy about Cleo's same height approached the table, looking at the beautiful tall woman making Mindy's premonition come true, she might as well have been the floor or a lighting fixture.

"Cleo, wow, I'm soooo sorry I'm late. We had equipment trouble and I just finally had to bail and tell em to deal man. I'm really sorry."

He was having the same trouble as Mindy with not drooling.

"You're just in time, we haven't ordered," Cleo looked at her friend warmly and smiled.

"This is my friend Mindy, the skier I told you about. Do you remember each other at all?"

"Oh ah, I'm not sure, did you have civics Junior year with Kimmey?"

Mindy's eye brows raised, she felt bad she didn't remember him, "Yeah, yeah, were you um in that class. I didn't pay a lot of attention in civics."

"Yeah, it was way boring. My mind was usually playing a tune to drown him out," the man smiled looking again at Cleo.

"I had Thompson and believe me, still boring. And it was so much worse cause she was like so excited about government/politics and all that drivel. She had us do projects and a speech. You got off easy with Kimmey, plain, monotone, hair piece Kimmey," Cleo looked sweetly at Mindy and then smiled a trust me look to Kent.

"Oh God, were you there when Jake gave him a baseball cap, saying he wanted the support of the team. Kimmey put it on and Jake took it off really quick saying it needed adjustment and the hair piece tried to come off with the cap. I know Jake planned it like that, and I just couldn't help but laugh," she was smiling at Cleo and looked at Kent with the questioning face wondering if he remembered it.

"God Jake was such a turd. I hear he's selling cars. I always thought he'd wined up in prison but he chose the legal route for being a criminal," his eyes barely took in Mindy, then looked back at the beauty across the table.

They ordered and Mindy commented, "I thought Jake would get a football scholarship."

"He did but got caught cheating a few too many times on the academics, so ah no more scholarship I heard," Kent looked rather pleased.

"So ah Jake wasn't a favorite of yours I take it," Cleo smiled.

"Let's just say band geeks are easy targets."

"They are also really great musicians. I told Mindy about your band, how good you are," Cleo encouraged.

The man beamed at the compliment and Mindy was still firmly in place as a light fixture but she offered anyway, "Yeah, can't wait to hear the sound. A friend of mine might come later and she loves the saxophone."

"So do I," he smiled again at Cleo.

"So are you playing here all weekend," Cleo inquired pleasantly.

"Yeah, we usually play Thursday through Sundays. Not always at one location. But we're booked for the next month. And in Spring and Summer, its always jammin man," he smiled warmly at the tall woman.

"People like good music," she nodded.

The conversation wasn't incredibly entertaining but not too boring. They chatted about school, about Hawaii, a little about skiing and music of course, a lot about music. Mindy chimed in when Cleo looked for her too, which was more often than perhaps Kent wanted. It wasn't as unpleasant as she'd expected being the third wheel. Cleo really didn't make her feel like that at all, though Kent still clearly regarded her as a wall hanging. Around 9pm one of his band members came looking for him and he regretted having to leave.

Addressing Cleo, ""I'll see you later, we get breaks between sets. So I'll come sit with you. Dinner was really cool, hope you enjoy the music. See ya soon," he left some cash and asked if they could let him know what more he owed.

Cleo was gracious and Mindy doubted Kent heard her say goodbye.

Blue eyes regarded blue green, "Well snow bunny, do you want hot coco or coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"So um, tell me about the slopes today, you didn't say too much. Was it a good day or no?"

"It was too cold this morning. Warmed up some in the afternoon and I had a better time then. I don't ski in cold weather a lot, especially if it snows, really hurts when you wipe out. It snowed some this morning so I stayed in the lodge and had my fair share of coco."

"You didn't have to get up so early after all huh? Please don't hold that against me."

"Oh stop, I would have gotten up in like a half hour, an hour would have been too long. But I should of checked the weather again before I left, dahhhh."

Blue eyes seemed very content to enjoy conversation and she kept it up, "So where's your favorite, Heavenly?"

The blonde looked serious considering, "Um I'd say, Sierra, Heavenly, North Star and Alpine in that order. I ski Heavenly most cause it's so close. Mt. Rose isn't on the favorite list but it's cheaper."

"Do you go by yourself a lot?"

"Danny and I go. Janell calls me sometimes, but when I call she's not often available. You have to book her in advance I guess. She skis like every weekend and sometimes at night. She lives in Tahoe; I might see her tonight at the bar. She's there a lot after the slopes on Saturday."

"Janell, huh. Is she one of those snow bunnies you tend to like," Cleo's tone was a bit teasing but honestly curious.

Mindy smirked and rolled her eyes, "Well um yes actually. But she's pretty much in demand if you know what I mean."

"Ah ha, those skiing skills are um well known then?"

"I guess you could say it like that."

Cleo had an extremely mischievous face when she asked, "Do you happen to be familiar with her skills Mindy?"

The blush was full blown, "I, you…….we ski and well," she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, just ah, well, you know there's more to life than skiing and I guess you know that," Cleo looked a bit self conscious yet still very curious.

After a moment the tall woman continued, "You know, I want to like skiing, it looks great on TV. But it's not cold on TV when you're on a warm couch with popcorn."

"Ah come on beach bum. You're gonna let a little cold air scare ya away."

"I'm still thinking about it. But it's not like I know anyone but you. And I'm so bunny hill that you'd be bored stiff. Not that I'm inviting myself."

"Mt. Rose or Boreal would work for you. And if you want to try it, we'll pick a warm day. I'll scope the weather and before the season ends, I get you on a bunny hill at least. This time with the proper gear. And I just bet the natural athlete in you will love it," she looked into pretty blue eyes and hoped the woman would say yes.

Cleo cocked her head and screwed up her face, "Are you volunteering as my instructor for an hour or so?"

"You bet, best hour investment or however long it takes if you end up liking skiing. If you do I might just get a ski buddy out of the deal, that would be sweet," Mindy wiggled her eye brows and Cleo's return look was adorable.

"You do the scoping of warm weather and we can go, if it's warm," her tone warning.

"Got it, warm. Now we just need mother nature to hear my prayer."

"Ooooo I gotcha praying, Darla would be so proud," Cleo chuckled.

"Geez, don't ruin such a lovely evening Cleo. I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Blue eyes regarded her watch and found involved blue greens looking back when she looked up. Cleo smiled warmly but said nothing holding the gaze wondering what went on in the blonde mind.

Mindy's mind was thinking she could have sat there all night with the lovely woman, their conversation was so easy. Even though Cleo was stunning, somehow she didn't often stay nervous around this tall beauty with a warm appealing good nature. Except when Cleo had that incredibly interested or involved look like now and made her blush. Mindy broke the eye contact and tried to cover with wiping her mouth and scooting back her chair, "Ah what time is it Cleo, I have to ah go meet Dee Dee."

"It's 25 to 10," blue eyes continued to stare at her with a pleased intrigued smile.

"Oh, ah, then I need to get going probably. If she doesn't want to come back I'll pop over by myself for a few songs. But I bet Dee will be with me."

She stood up so needing to leave the blue fog she was in for a while.

"The Prime Rib was sooooooo good Cleo, thank you."

"I think that's my line snow bunny. I so appreciate it, I mean that. And when we ski I'll definitely drive."

"Chicken," Mindy wanted to get back to their easy more comfortable banter.

"Hey now, I was talking about the gas thing I owe you."

"Right, the gas thing, not the brown bag thing."

Cleo wanted to protest but she was caught and she giggled.

"I'll see ya in a bit chicken."

"I'll count on it, little snow bunny," she smiled the 100 watt and Mindy would have sprinted out of the restaurant if her knees had of cooperated and it wasn't so obvious.

Dee Dee was more than happy to come listen to a jazzy sax and they returned at around 10:15pm.

The band was playing and Cleo was on the dance floor with a well dressed, short, brown man with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee.

Dee Dee was already moving to the music but had her eyes glued to the gorgeous creature on the dance floor. She leaned in and said, "Damn at Faces she'd make the floor melt. Wish I could cut in."

Mindy offered, "Oh ah, she's straight trust me."

"I don't know yet, don't count her out girl just cause of stubby there. Maybe straight but maybe curious," Dee Dee had that expression Mindy understood to be enjoyable anticipation of a challenge.

"Dee, um remember I mentioned meeting a friend of mine here…….."

Dee whirled on the blonde, "Oh no girl, you don't tell me, that's………well damn. How do you know each other?"

"High school."

"You've known that vision since high school. Oh my God, I don't know if I envy you or pity you. Has she always been well, look at her, like that freakin ah, well has she?"

"Always pretty, but um, I've never seen her look like this before."

"Were you then and are you now really good friends. You must have seen her at school dances when she was there. She didn't look this stunning then?"

"No, we were and are pretty good friends. Hell she works where I do now."

Dee Dee's eyes bulged with extreme curiosity and the short blonde held up her had to quickly continue, "Long story. Its just, well I've never been out with her as a friend, like to dinner before or somewhere that she'd dress up. School dances yeah, but we were high schoolers. Girls. She was more of a jock. Still real athletic."

Dee Dee's brown eyes were like saucers, "You mean she's got that kind a body under those clothes, nice and healthy baby."

"Dee, stop! She's my friend and she sees us, be good," Mindy's voice was course with her warning.

Cleo was smiling warmly, "Hi, back so soon, great. They just started. Aren't they good?"

Dee Dee was staring and Mindy replied, "Yeah, sounds nice. So you been dancing already I see."

Freddy had followed the tall one and Cleo made big begging eyes at Mindy taking a deep sigh, "Yes, ah we have. Mindy, do you remember Freddy?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't know a lot of people in the band. Hi Freddy," she smiled to eyes that took all of her in, "This is Dee Dee my friend. Dee, Cleo and Freddy."

Freddy's brown orbs took in all the females he was introduced to, "My pleasure, lovely ladies, my pleasure," his accent seemed Latino as he bowed graciously.

Dee Dee quick for any opportunity moved in took Freddy's hand casually and quickly moved on to Cleo, "Likewise, Likewise. You're right Cleo honey, that sax sounds great. You've got a lovely ear for music it seems. Makes ya wanna dance. Ya know just sway to the sounds, its rich."

Dee Dee hadn't let go of Cleo's hand and had begun swaying to the music slightly.

"You know, I need to excuse myself a moment. Dee, would you join me please. We'll be right back."

Freddy said smoothly, "I will be hoping to save you a dance."

Cleo tried not to chuckle and shrugged her shoulders at Mindy who was pulling Dee Dee along. Mindy waited till she got in the bathroom with Dee protesting the whole time that she was leaving bruise marks.

"Dee, I told you. She's fucking," she turned down the volume, "straight. I'm painfully aware of that. So just stop it!"

Dee looked exasperated, "You didn't have to bruise me. I'm dark but I still bruise. Damn, it's those ski poles you strike the mountain with, you're a vise," the woman was pulling up her white sleeved blouse.

"Look, we're not at Faces. If you dance it's probably with Freddy," Mindy's tone was still sternly warning.

"Well, if you promise not to bruise me more, I'll dance with you, you promised."

"Yeah when we're at Faces, I'm not so sure it's too comfortable in this place."

"Mindy Meredith Collier, you are not in the closet. Who the EFFing cares what they think? And please, please, please girl don't tell me gorgeous is a homophobe weirdo with a les friend."

"Nooooo, no she's fine. She's pretty much the only one who didn't wipe me off like a bad virus in school. Cleo is as lovely as she appears. But you keep your paws off her! If you have to paw someone, I volunteer for the night if it keeps her safe. But I'm dancing with Freddy if he asks so hold off on the up close and personal with me till I do."

"Okay, Okay mad mother henny. Shit girl chill."

They used the facilities and as they were walking back Dee Dee got a brainstorm, "You mean, this Cleo is that friend from school. Yeah, I remember, played basketball, went to Tahiti or somewhere."

"Hawaii, to college. She just got back like four weeks ago."

"Girl, you work with her, huh uh?"

"She's in the stockroom downstairs. We have breaks and sometimes lunches. Be good," Mindy emphasized pointed her finger in Dee Dee's face.

Dee Dee made a show of crossing her heart and winked. They were on the dance floor again and Mindy spied the suffering look on Cleo's face. The band announced one more song before they took a break and so Mindy went out to the duo.

"Hey there, they do sound good," she was swaying a little.

It worked, Freddy stepped closer and she realized he wasn't a bad dancer at all. She'd danced with plenty of guys especially before her outing in school. Dancing was fun and she was pretty good at it, so she enjoyed their dance. He obviously was securely hetero in his persuasion she noticed as his eyes enjoyed the view even in snow pants and a sweater. The song finished, they joined the others and she found that Cleo had ordered her a root beer, one of her favorites.

"Thanks Cleo, you're a sweet heart," she smiled warmly at blue eyes who returned the warmth.

Dee Dee was quiet and she thought that unusual. She squinted briefly and got an innocent expression. Cleo looked unmolested though perhaps a little quiet, but she relaxed a little.

Kent came to their table and sat across from the blue eyes, "So ah, are you all enjoying the sounds?"

At least his words took in the others if his eyes didn't.

Dee Dee was a good charmer male or female, "Those notes just make you want to dance. How long have you been blowing maestro?"

He enjoyed the compliment and smiled a little pleased, "I started playing guitar in 4th grade. They offered it in school and I loved it. Switched to brass in junior high. Glad you liked it," he managed to look at Dee Dee during some of his reply because she had her hand on his arm.

"Well, well, maestro wasn't too far gone, how many instruments do you delight the audience with music man," Dee was laying it on.

"Besides the guitar, alto and soprano sax, a little flute and some piano."

Dee Dee kept up the questions until he had to go back, and it was fairly clear he enjoyed the attention though his replies often included looking at Cleo who smiled nicely and seemed to be paying attention though quietly.

"Mr. Music, can you play Get Here by Brenda Russell for me, gotta love that," Dee asked as nicely as possible.

He nodded and smiled at Cleo before leaving.

Dee Dee waited for a moment before saying, "Gorgeous, I'm sure you're used to catching any fish you want with those blues, but he's so hooked darlin it's messy."

Cleo chuckled and shook her head like she was exceedingly aware of the problem, "You do have a way with words Dee Dee. The visual is a little much but anyway."

"Yeah, Dee never at a loss huh," Mindy wondered exactly what those two talked about while they danced.

Cleo excused herself and Mindy was quick to take the opportunity to question Dee Dee since Freddy was dancing with another lady who apparently knew the band or was a girlfriend of another band member.

"So Delilah, just what did you two talk about sitting here sipping your rum and coke?"

"Not much."

"Deeeeee."

"Please, hands to myself at all times. Not even a lot of eye contact, though who can help some with those glorious orbs, mmmm baby," Dee Dee had that lustful look again.

"You seem chummy, what did you say, spill it," Mindy was warning again.

"Just the truth, put the claws back in, damn."

"And what was your version of the truth," Mindy was still highly suspicious and worried that this very gay woman would behave herself.

"Okay, I could be wounded but we're dancing this set. I told her she was one of the most drop dead gorgeous women I'd ever seen, and I knew what I was talking about cause I'd seen and enjoyed every inch of many drop dead gorgeous women. That I didn't know whether to envy or pity my lesbian friend Mindy who was like a mamma protecting her bear cub when it came to her. That you made me promise to keep my mitts to myself and though I'd normally test the waters a little more cause her beauty made it just too damn tempting, I decided to comply with your instructions since I had never seen you sooo intense before and since you'd already bruised my arm. True every damn word just try to deny it," Dee Dee turned her brown eyes daringly at her blonde friend.

Mindy opened her mouth but nothing came out. Dee Dee was right, but she hadn't expected the woman to lay it out on the table so plainly. She just sat there for a few minutes wondering what the hell Cleo thought of Dee's speech.

Before the woman returned she managed, "Was she, I mean did she, ah say anything."

"She nodded several times while watching you dance, looked a little puzzled and all she said was I see, okay then, um thanks. Hey you need to dance with mambo man again before that song I asked for comes up, cause my blonde baby you owe me and oh am I collecting," Dee smiled warningly.

Mindy raised her eyebrows a little precariously wondering just how up close and personal it would be. She found the smooth moving man and was dancing when Cleo came back and sat down at the table with Dee Dee returning the smile Mindy offered from the dance floor. A fresh root beer and some bottled water was waiting for her when she got back.

"You're a mind reader, thanks," they exchanged warm smiles again.

Dee Dee got up and snagged Freddy before he could get away much to the man's delight.

"So um, Dee, she's she's, well she's actually really cool. We seem to be able to pick up in our friendship wherever we left off. I mean I met her in college. She's kind of blunt, but it grows on ya."

Cleo smiled brightly with a hint of delight in her eyes, "She's informative for sure and pretty up front. It's refreshing. I had a friend not unlike her in Hawaii. But she moved back to Kauai about a year ago. We still email, but she got married and is busy having a kid. Did I ever mention Rita?"

"Yeah, you sent me a picture of you two at a luau. I think I still have it. She was the one the Hawaiian hunk of man was holding over his head like a bar bell right?"

The blue eyed gaze seemed to warm with the thought, "That's Rita."

They paused to listen to an excellent solo by the saxophonist.

"Wow, he can really play, he's good," Mindy admitted.

"Kinda funny, Jake's a car salesman, and this guy could like cut an album or something," Cleo sounded a bit melancholy.

"He seemed to like that turn of events, did I read that right," Mindy wondered.

"Oh yeah, I got that. Jake thinks quite a bit of himself as a ball player. Not my type, I relate more to him as a competitor. The senior dance he wanted to be a little more than competitive. At least he wasn't a sloppy kisser. Sorta too strong, kinda meaty, but well it's better than messy."

"I'll ah, take your word for it," Mindy nodded.

"You know I only went out with him for the prom cause his date got sick and I didn't have one. Not a good night for poor ol Jake. He um wasn't my idea of romance you know."

"So are Hawaiians romantics?"

Cleo turned an incredibly interesting look on her, "Hawaii is or can be romantic. Same is true for Hawaiians or anybody else, can be, is the operative expression there," those blue eyes were so penetrating.

Mindy was feeling the blue fog again; she wasn't sure how to reply and was saved from it by the return of Dee Dee.

Cleo said, "You seem to enjoy dancing as much as music."

With a flirting tone Dee Dee looked a bit lustfully into blue eyes briefly and said, "Depends on who I'm with for both. Freddy's a smooth mover, not bad," she looked suggestively at Mindy who looked away rather quickly.

Since the next song wasn't theirs Dee Dee suggested, "You ah, my want to powder that sweet little nose short stuff come on."

Back in the restroom, "Dee, lets not get thrown out okay. I mean we aren't at Faces."

"I won't kiss your lips, but I can't promise about your neck, those freckles are too damn cute."

Mindy blushed, why weren't there pills for that, "Okay, we'll dance one dance here, then we can go back to the bar. You can have as many dances as you want there."

"No I can't."

Mindy looked puzzled and Dee Dee explained, "I can only take so much beautiful. I'm getting laid tonight and I know it's not with you so a few dances just to interest the dandies and we'll see who plays."

"Great to be a fishing lure."

"You know you can be the catch of the day at any moment sweetie. Your choice not mine."

Mindy's laugh was warm, "At least you think I'm a pretty lure?"

Dee laughed softly amused, "Oh you are the loveliest little blonde pretty treat of a lure sweetie, the very best, trust me."

Upon their return Dee Dee curtsied to Cleo and said, "Still beautiful aren't we."

Cleo just smiled mostly at Mindy.

They sat down and took a drink, "Did we miss any other song beside this one," Dee Dee was making sure.

"No, don't think so," Cleo assured.

Mindy hadn't known the song Dee Dee asked for so she wasn't sure just how seductive the music would be.

When the song began playing Dee looked at her directly, "Our turn sexy."

Cleo watched them take the floor and was a little surprised at Mindy. The short one was very grateful at the tasteful choice Dee Dee had made. Still it would be an up close and personal dance. Dee Dee had already pulled her close and was guiding their bodies together softly to the sound of the notes humming along. The woman's dark slightly taller more supple form seemed quite a contrast to the smaller form with white skin and blonde hair. Mindy's arms were wrapped around Dee Dee's neck and the woman's hands were unhurriedly caressing Mindy's torso as they moved together. Dee Dee buried her face in the neck of the smaller woman, kissing a freckle and looked over to a table where a pair of blue eyes were riveted to their dance. She didn't let her smile be seen by the gorgeous eyes and continued to cuddle Mindy close through the rest of the sounds. The next piece was a musical version of Celine Dion's Falling into You. They both knew it was a bit spicy and invoked a light salsa type feeling so Dee Dee didn't let go of the blonde knowing Mindy enjoyed this tune too.

"Come on Mindy, let's have fun girl. One more, show em how it's done by girls and we'll leave, they'll never know what hit em," Dee wiggled her eyebrows encouragingly and Mindy laughed loosening up a bit.

It was a fun slow salsa and though they didn't burn up the floor with it, it did get warm as somehow Dee Dee made even snow pants seem sexy. She was sure to kiss another freckle on the woman's neck as she leaned her back, seductively moved her hand over Mindy's face and whispered the lyric, "So close your eyes and let me kiss you." Blue green eyes flashed into Dee Dee's brown orbs revealing that there was definitely a libido in the sweet smaller woman. And they finished the dance with most eyes, especially blue, watching them.

Dee Dee kept her arm wrapped around Mindy's waist on the way back and instructed playfully, "Polish off that water girl, you're gonna need it."

Then she turned to Cleo who looking at them both but mostly Mindy and without missing a beat Dee Dee said, "No one can know a woman like a woman can know a woman baby. Nice to meet you gorgeous. Don't kill anyone with those stunning eyes. And if ya ever wanna dance, ask Mindy cause I'm still caged," she gathered her coat, smiled at the blonde and said, "I'll wait outside."

Cleo was now staring at her intently with what appeared to be something like intrigued amazement.

Mindy didn't know what to make of the expression, since she was straight it couldn't have been attraction, but she was a little unsure, "Um, I kind of, well, I have to go. I promised her I'd, more dancing, we're going to Faces."

There was disappointment clearly written on the woman's face then it relaxed into a reluctant acceptance as she sighed and nodded, "Yeah, really glad you came at all. And I so owe you. Thanks so much."

"Ahhh, no problem sweetie. And dinner was scrumptious, thanks. I'm really glad we came, it was fun. I ah, I'll see ya at work Monday then?"

She was trying to get back to casual though the blue eyes seemed not so causal.

Cleo cleared her throat, "Sooooo ah, Monday. Have fun, um a good…………..well rest of the weekend. Tell Dee Dee bye for me," she nodded unsure of the departure.

"Okay, thanks again. Enjoy the music and Kent," Mindy smiled and left.

Mindy and Dee Dee melted the floor some at Faces, though not a lot of people noticed a little too busy with their own melting. But to Dee's good fortune there were a few interesting dance moves that caught the eyes of some. So Mindy trekked back down the mountain to her little empty apartment and decided against a cold shower.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/a_tietz_ ... tine1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 06 ruj 2012 20:18

odrastanje...outanje roditeljima...obiteljski problemi

Telling Series
By Aeryn Sun

BOMBS AWAY

"Sam," Jane started as she sat down to join Sam at the table for breakfast. "Can we talk?" Sam looked up at her mother and was instantly alarmed. Seventeen years of living with her mother had trained her to interpret certain facial expressions well. And the one Jane was wearing now meant one of two things: either she was in trouble or her mother had bad news. Since she had just cleaned her room and could think of nothing else she could have done to get herself in trouble, Sam figured her mother must have bad news.

"Sure, Mom, what's the scoop?" Sam asked, as her mother seemed to hedge. Jane sighed. Alarm bell number two.

"I'm not sure how to go about talking about this," Jane explained. Alarm bell number three.

"Can't be that bad, Mom. We've always had a relationship were we could talk about anything so, lay it on me." Sam felt a little hypocritical about that last part seeing as how she had yet to tell her mother about the fact that she was in a romantic relationship with Brooke.

But everytime the two of them discussed telling their parents that the reason they were getting along so well and seemed so close lately was because they were, well, close, they always ended up playing out the worst case scenarios. One of them always ended up either in Siberia or buried in the deep forests of Washington State. Neither one of them could manage to be optimists about the outcome of their parents discovering their relationship. They were in no way ashamed by it; in fact, they'd shout it from the mountain tops if they could (insert Sound of Music joke here) but they knew Mike and Jane were not going to take the news well.

"I've always felt that way, Sam, but lately it doesn't seem that way anymore." If the bells in Sam's head got any louder she was sure Jane would be able to hear them.

"Why not?" (Ask a loaded question and you're going to get a loaded answer) Sam warned herself.

"You've been keeping things from me," Jane pointed out. Sam looked away ashamed.

"I told you that copy of Playboy was Carmen's," (when all else fails, deflect the topic and then blame someone else) Jane sighed again.

"When were you going to tell me about you and Brooke?" Sam choked on a mouthful of Rice Krispies and Jane had to pound her on the back to clear her airway.

"What about us?" Sam rasped after clearing her lungs. (Wasn't expecting that one)

"Sam," Jane said in a warning tone. Sam chose to ignore it.

"I mean, yeah we're getting along well lately. So what? We can't be expected to hate each other forever especially now that Mac's around. I mean what kind of environment is that for her to grow up in?" Sam babbled, using her best known defense, words, to keep her mother from the truth. Her mother shook her head.

"Sam, honey, I know about you and Brooke…" Sam interrupted her, continuing her rant.

"And she was there for me after Nicole hit me with her car. OK, so Nic was aiming for her, but still, Brooke never left my side. That sort of thing brings people closer, you know?" Jane put her hand over Sam's to get her attention.

"Sam stop," Jane commanded gently. Sam looked up and to Jane, she looked absolutely terrified. "I'm not talking about that. I think that it's great that the two of you got past your differences, but I know there's more to it." Sam shrugged.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam lied. She did, she was just praying that Jane didn't.

"That's what I mean, Sam. You never used to lie to me. But you've been doing it for a while now. Don't you feel that you can talk to me anymore?" Jane sounded hurt and it broke Sam's heart.

"Sure I can, Mom. And I do."

"Then why didn't you tell me about you and Brooke?" Sam got up from the table and started to pace.

"Why do you keep coming back to that? God, obssessive much?" Jane smiled despite herself as she watched Sam pace and wring her hands. Seventeen years of watching her daughter's mannerisms had taught her to read her daughter very well. Sam was nervous, upset and a tad bit panicked. Her observations were how she figured the whole thing out anyway.

Even before Nicole's ill concieved attempt at drag racing, Jane had started to notice a subtle change in both Brooke and Sam. It began with small glances, stolen when they thought no one, especially the other was looking. Then small touches when passing the other or reaching across the table at dinner. And the fighting had died down to something liveable, neither she nor Mike were afraid to leave Sam and Brooke alone together for fear of imminent bloodshed. They were actually getting along. And then there was the look in their eyes when they looked at each other. Never at anytime had Jane seen that look in the eyes of either girl. It was a look Jane had only seen a few times before herself. She saw it when Jack, her first husband had looked at her and now when Mike looked at her. It was love. At first she put it off to her imagination, then she chalked it up to infatuation, a common teen-age phase (denial, she was very good at denial). But then she watched as the look grew in intensity in both girls although they both seemed unaware. And then the accident happened. And Jane saw how devasated Brooke was. If the girl hadn't been standing there right in front of her, she would have sworn the car had hit her too. As Sam lay in a coma, Brooke's life had effectively come to a standstill until the day Sam finally woke up. It was like Brooke began breathing, living again that day as well. She was no fool, Jane realized then that whatever was going on was no phase and wouldn't go away if she ignored it. She watched, as Brooke was there every step of Sam's recovery and how Sam accepted Brooke's help when she wouldn't anyone else's. She noticed how both girls leaned on and counted on the other to get past the hard parts and bumps in the road during Sam's long journey to recuperation. And she saw how something had changed after she and Mike had returned from Utah but she hadn't been able to figure out what.

"Sam, you can either talk to me now or we can wait for Mike and Brooke to come back from Nevada tomorrow and the four of us can sit down together and have this conversation. And set down some ground rules," the look of sheer horror and fear that stuck itself to Sam's face was nearly enough to break Jane's resolve. Sam was obviously terrified to talk to her about this but Jane could understand why. Given the closeness of their relationship, Sam was bound to fear being turned away by the only parent she had left because of who she loved. But Jane wouldn't do that. She just had to let Sam know that.

"No! God, no!" Sam panicked. All the color drained from her face and she froze in place. "You wanna talk? Talk. Just don't drag Mike into this, please," she begged desperately. "He'll kill me and toss me in a wood chipper. Do we own a wood chipper?"

"All right, Sam, calm down. We don't own a wood chipper and no one is killing anyone. Start at the beginning. What is going on between the two of you and when did it start?" Sam gulped down some air and tried to calm down.

"Going on? I suppose it's too late to say nothing?" Jane shot her a dirty look. "OK, well, to put it simply, I love her, am in love with her. And she loves me. I'm sorry if that's hard to handle, Mom, really I am. I never meant for it to happen, it just sort of did."

"When, Sammy? When did you realize this?"

"A while ago, before the car accident if that's what you're asking. Things with George never really went anywhere and the whole Harrison mess. God, don't get me started. I started to see that my feelings for Brooke were leaning towards the not so sweet and innocent. But I swear to you, Mom, I was never going to do anything about them. I know how much you love Mike, as much as I was against him to start with and I would never, ever do anything to ruin that for you. Honest."

"I know you wouldn't, honey. Brooke feels the same way?"

"Yeah, and trust me I was just as surprised as you. I mean, I always thought Brooke was straight. There was Josh and Harrison…" Sam trailed off. (Gee, for someone who claims to never get the girl, Harrison factors in an awful lot here. But then, he still didn't get the girl, or girls in this case, we got each other. Gonna be one heck of a blow to his ego when he finds out)

"I thought you were straight," Jane reminded her. Sam blushed slightly.

"Uh, yeah, so did I. Seems we were wrong, on both counts," Sam joked. Jane scowled.

"This really isn't the time for jokes, Sam," Jane reprimanded. Sam looked away, properly chastised and sat back down.

"I know. Sorry," she apologized.

"So, you and Brooke are together, as a couple?" Jane asked to reconfirm what she already knew. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, we are," she looked back at her mother, a strength and resolve there in her eyes that hadn't been a moment ago. "And nothing you say or do is going to change that. This isn't a phase or an experiment. We genuinely love one another. She makes me feel like no one else ever has, like no one else ever will. You can move me to Australia, or Antarctica but it won't change the way I feel. Nothing will. You can't dictate the will of my heart, Mom. Time, distance, or death is not going to change anything." Jane sat there stunned by the heartfelt and powerful confession.

"I'm not asking you to change, Sam, I'm asking you to be honest with me. That's all," she said when she could speak. The depth of Sam's feelings for Brooke left her momentarily speechless.

"I just was, Mom," Sam put her head on the table. "And I think I'm going to be sick." Jane reached out and stroked Sam's back to soothe her.

"I think you are very brave to tell me all that. Have you said that to Brooke?" Sam shook her head, still keeping it against the table. "I think you should, it was very beautiful." Sam looked up and Jane could see the unshead tears shimmering there.

"Do you think any less of me now that you know I'm gay?" Sam asked, her voice small and vulnerable. One single tear spilled over and fell down her face. Jane wiped it away.

"I could never think any less of you for being honest with yourself and with me, Sam. True it's not a choice I would have made for you but I understand that you love whom you love. I'm not going to take that away." Tears of relief streamed down Sam's face. She got up and hugged Jane.

"Thank you, Mom. I feel so relieved," she cried. "You're not going to sent me away?" Jane shook her head. "Oh thank God." They sat in compatable silence for several minutes before Jane spoke again.

"Honey, I still have a few questions for you," Sam sat back down, a look of dread spreading across her features.

"Please tell me you're not going to ask what I think you're going to ask," Sam begged.

"Have you and Brooke,…have the two of you been intimate," Sam shot up off her chair like she'd been catapulted off of it.

"Mooooommmmm," she wailed. "What kind of question is that? What happened to boundries and respecting my privacy? I just tell you that I'm involved in a romantic relationship with your stepdaughter and now you want to know the status of my virginity? There is such thing as too much personal information, you know. I don't ask you about you and Mike, do I? I mean, is this information really relevant? I mean, hello, personal space!"

"Sam, breathe," Jane reminded her quickly hyperventilating daughter. During her little rant, Sam had been scurring about the kitchen like a hummingbird. It actually would have been considered cute if Sam weren't desperately trying to avoid answering the question.

"OK, I'm breathing. But still, Mom, geesh," Sam complained dramatically.

"So you have," Jane assumed by Sam's violent reaction to the question. Sam shook her head.

"Relax Mom. No, we haven't. I'll be honest and tell you it's not for lack of trying on my part," Jane paled and Sam blushed. "We are 'so' not having this conversation."

"No, no, really, Sam. Tell me, it's all right," Jane encouraged her. "I want you to feel that you can be honest with me again."

"Well, OK, and I can't believe I'm about to tell you this," she quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Are you sure about this Mom?" Jane nodded.

"Yes, I want our relationship to be the honest and open one it once was. This doesn't change that, Sammy, you're still my daughter."

"OK, but I warned you. You see, I've wanted to, you know, take the next step but Brook keeps putting the brakes on. I think her experience with Josh has made her nervous and she's worried that sex'll ruin our relationship but it's not like that, Mom. I mean, sure I love Brooke's body, I mean, wow, but I love more than that. It's never been about sex. I love her mind, her soul and everything about her. I'm not sure she realizes that."

"Have you told her?"

"I think so," Sam tilted her head again. "Are we actually having this conversation?" Jane laughed.

"Yes, and I asked the original question, not to butt into your person space, but to make sure you didn't jump into something you're not ready for. But it looks like I had nothing to fear. If you're telling me the truth, and I have no reason to think otherwise, than I trust you to do what is right for you and Brooke. But I really think you need to tell Brooke the things you told me. I think she needs to and would like to hear such loving and kind words."

"So you're OK with all this?"

"OK? No, but I will be. I'll just need a little more time. I believe you when you say that this is for real, Sam. You can't fake the feelings you're talking about or the way I've seen you look at Brooke, or the way I've seen her look at you. So, yes, eventually I'll be OK."

"What about Mike?"

"Why don't we talk to Brooke first and let her know that I know and try to figure things out from there?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Until then, behave yourselves, OK?" Sam grinned impishly.

"I always do, I have no idea what you may be insinuating," she said innocently.

"Sam," Jane started in that `Mom' tone everyone loathes to hear. "You two share a bathroom, don't make us have to move your rooms."

"Oh, kinda like turning the car around if we don't behave, huh?" Jane nodded. "OK, got it. I'll pass the word on. No passing go, no collecting 200 dollars, so noted. Is that everything?"

"Are you happy?"

"My final answer? Yes, completely, totally, utterly and exhaustively happy. Like I never was before. I never realized I wasn't happy, Mom. I guess I needed to have my eyes opened to see what was missing in my life: Brooke."

"You really should say these things to her, you know," Jane advised.

"I will. How long until they get back?" Sam whined.

"Tomorrow night, Sam. Don't worry, you'll make it," Jane hugged her tightly. Sam sighed with relief.

"I don't know about you but I feel much better now," Sam admitted.

"Me too, Sammy. I'm just sorry that you felt you couldn't be honest with me to start with."

"I'm sorry too, Mom. But I swear that's the last secret I'll ever keep from you," Sam promised.

"I hope so. So you really thought you'd be tossed in a wood chipper?"

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=672 ... eries1.HTM
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 07 ruj 2012 23:17

krivo optužena...zatvorske intrige i preživljavanje u zatvoru...tematski vrlo slično seriji Bad Girls

~ Justice Deferred ~
by Alex P.

Cam was just finishing her final Tai Chi routine when the bus carrying the new prisoners arrived. As usual, most of the older, hardcore prisoners lined up along the fence to get a look at the new "fish" and to choose their targets. It was the usual practice for new women to be kept in a building separate from the general prison population for a short time. At least until they could be processed in and assigned to a cellblock and a cell. When Cam had come in just a little over two years ago the new fish were in separate quarters for three to four weeks, but because of over-crowding, and budget cuts the time was reduced to a week to a five days. The new prisoners had been evaluated at another facility before being transferred to their permanent "home" at CCC. The women being unloaded from the big grey converted school bus with barred windows were seeing their first glimpse of the place they would call home, until the state believed they were reformed and no longer a danger to society. There were several very young women getting off the bus that day. Even one or two returns that hadn't been able resist the temptations of the outside world, some of the women were sul. and angry, others were quiet and introspective, some were even crying and sobbing in terror, and all were under the intense scrutiny of the inmates lining the fence. Some of the older prisoners were yelling suggestive remarks and phrases, others made thinly veiled threats. Others watched with silent menace carefully selecting a victim from the twenty or so new arrivals. Unlike the majority of her fellow prisoners, Cam had no interest in the new arrivals, and the commotion did nothing to interrupt the slow graceful movements of the Oriental discipline. As she concentrated on keeping her spiritual center, Cam began feeling something pulling at the edges of her consciousness, getting stronger with each heartbeat, drawing her attention toward the door of the big grey bus. Her eyes focused on the door of the vehicle, Cam became aware of a presence stepping into the doorway. The small woman had a brightly glowing golden aura that nearly blinded Cam with its intensity, while still drawing and holding Cam's darkening blue eyes. She could see the woman's soulful compassionate emerald eyes even though she was actually too far away for anyone to discern the small blonde beauty's features. Emerald locked onto Sapphire and the air between them seemed to crackle with the energy that passed between the two women, they both gasped as they felt the pull on each other souls. Even Paula could feel the energy between the two women, she heard the little golden haired woman gasp, and following her gaze the guard recognized that the focus of her attention was the tall graceful form of Cam.

"It's her," Paula heard the woman whisper. Paula made it a point to check the records and find out whom this woman was; the Captain had the memories of the assaults on Cam too fresh in her mind to ignore the little blonde-haired woman's strange behavior and off hand remark.

This was the first time that Cam and Cheryl ever laid eyes on each other. Cam's intense gaze stayed on Cheryl until the gapping maw that was the door to the segregation building swallowed her up. For her part Cheryl could feel the tall woman's eyes on her, she too could feel the irresistible pull of destiny on her soul reaching all the way to her core drawing her toward the mysterious figure standing apart from the crowd. Neither had ever met before, they'd never even heard of each other before, but they both had a feeling that they would never forget each other. Once the guards had escorted the new women into the Segregation Building, they secured it behind them, leaving a confused Cam still staring at the closed doors where the diminutive blonde had left her sight. Cam was suddenly aware of an empty space deep inside her in a place she'd never felt before, leaving her with a feeling she couldn't explain and never knew existed before that moment. The Captain of the guard wasn't the only one that picked up the unusual connection between the two women; a pair of beady black hate filled eyes followed the exchange from the shadows.

"Oh no my dear Camilla," an intense voice growled hoarsely "she will not have you either. You are mine, you just don't know it yet my beautiful one no one will have you but me." The shadowy figure moved toward a side door, a hysterical cackle followed as the mysterious woman disappeared into the darkened maze of the cellblock.

After a couple of days, Cam had almost forgotten about the unusual occurrence with the new fish, filing it away as a fluke. The dark woman went on to her normal routine. A week passed and the only people who seemed to even remember the incident were Paula and the mysterious woman, they both kept track of the two other women, but for very different reasons. In the mean time, Cheryl had been assigned a bunk on the second floor and after she was issued the usual two spare uniforms, towels bedding, soap, toothbrush, and various essentials she was led to her cell. After the little blonde prisoner had settled in, she asked for and received permission to use the showers, even though it was mid-day. Cheryl was an innocent lamb among wolves and she was totally oblivious to the lurking dangers as she entered the shower area. She quickly stripped off the clothes she'd been wearing for the last week, without a shower, and quickly adjusted the temperature to just barely below scalding anxious to wash the smell from her skin. She stepped into the steaming stream of water, letting the relaxing needles of water flow over her soft, tired skin. She let out a sigh of contentment as she felt herself relax for the first time since her arrest over six months ago. Cheryl was amazed how the little things she had always taken for granted when she was free had become such decadent luxuries now, as a hot shower in the middle of the day, closing her eyes Cheryl tilted her head back and let the water hit her face.

"Well, well, well," a sinister voice said from behind the temporarily blind woman "looky what we've found ladies."

Cheryl froze when she heard at least two other women giggling at the first one's joke, while the young woman didn't know much about prison she did know enough to be aware that she was in very deep, deep trouble.

"Looks to me like you've found yourself a new bitch, Val.," another woman said.

Cheryl jumped as she felt a rough hand grab her left butt cheek and squeeze hard causing the frightened young blonde to yelp in surprise and pain. Her bare feet slipped on the wet tile floor as she jumped and Cheryl fell to her knees.

"Oooo, looky Val," the third woman purred, "the bitch is already on her knees for you."

"P-please, don't h-hurt me." Cheryl pleaded as she opened her eyes and got a good look at her attackers.

The small woman trembled in terror as she saw what she was facing. The one called Val was a big hard looking heavily tattooed woman with short brown hair and cruel looking beady black eyes that gleamed evilly as she surveyed the magnificent attributes of the young woman she was about to claim. The two women that were her constant companions were tall painfully skinny women one with long stringy black hair that was obviously a bad dye job, she had watery yellowish eyes that never seemed to focus on any one thing for long and sharp unpleasant features. Her painfully thin body was covered with scars and bruises, as was her friends, evidence of Val's tendency toward violent sex. The other woman was probably once a very pretty young woman, the ghost of her beauty haunted her she too seemed unable to focus her striking indigo eyes, Val had a reliable connection on the outside and she always made sure that "her girls" always got plenty of whatever they wanted, one way she guaranteed their loyalty. Cheryl noticed that in the cleavage of both women's breasts there was the letter V burned deep into their flesh and shivered wondering why they had such scars. Even though she hadn't known at the time, that brand marked the two as Val's property. Val licked her lips anticipating all the things she was going to do with the gorgeous piece of woman that was cowering on the floor in front of her, Val loved it when they begged, it made their screams sound sweeter somehow. The vicious sadist was so intent on the compact little woman on the floor that she didn't notice the tall dark shadowy figure that silently entered the showers behind her.

"Remind me to thank you later, Spook, for tellin' me about this little piece of eye candy." Val said laughing cruelly

"No need Val," the black haired quipped "always glad to be of serv..."

Val stopped laughing when she heard her sometimes almost sane lieutenant stopped talking in mid sentence and now both her companions were staring over her shoulder their faces masks of purest fear. The showers were silent except for the sounds of running water and the little golden haired woman's terrified sobs. Cam had been headed to her cell on the third tier, when she felt a sudden overwhelming urge to go to the showers. She began to just shake off the feeling and go on about her business but her stomach was knotted up with tension, and she had a sudden ache in her chest that somehow was pulling at that place inside her again. Surrendering to her instincts, as her uncles and Cutter had always taught her, Cam decided to wonder over by the showers curious to see what she might find there. When she arrived at the entrance to the showers, Cam could hear voices but was unable to tell who was talking or what they were talking about, but when she heard the terrified yelp, she knew her honor wouldn't allow her to just walk away from whatever was going on in there. She let out a resigned sigh and cautiously entered the tiled rooms. Before Cam was through the dressing room even before she was able to see anyone in the showers, she could hear the conversation. The first voice she heard was a voice she didn't recognize pleading not to be hurt between terrified sobs, the next voice Cam knew all too well. What she didn't know was how they had learned so quickly about a new fish being in the showers at this time of day. Then she heard Val's voice mention the Spook and she knew that Val's pet psycho bitch had it in for the new woman for some unknown reason and as soon as she saw a chance to get rid of her, the Spook had jumped on it. The crazy bitch had tried to kill Cam a few times because she said she was in love with the tall dark beauty and was assuring that Cam would remain faithful to her. Cam had asked the crazed woman to please hate her in the future. Sometimes Cam had to wonder about a system that lets an obviously insane homicidal maniac like the Spook wander around loose in the general population, but that's was the way things were and Cam had learned to deal with it then work on the things she could fix. Cam felt a cold fear grip her heart and somehow she was sure that the new fish the Spook had led Val to had to be the beautiful golden haired woman that Cam had seen the day she'd arrived. This revelation was accompanied by an intense need to protect the small woman, Cam had no idea where all that had come from but she sure as hell wasn't going to let an innocent soul like that fall into the hands of a "chicken-hawk" like Val. The tall blue-eyed woman slipped silently into the steam-filled room, Cam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she surveyed the scene unfolding in front of her. Val and her two favorite anorexic stooges had caught one of the new women as the poor thing was trying to get herself clean after spending a week in seg without a change of clothes and the only way to get clean was a whore's bath. The aesthetics of the entire situation bothered Cam, not to mention the strange hold the little wet blonde huddling in the corner on the cold tile floor seemed to have on Cam's mind and soul. If nothing else Cam had to find out how someone she had never seen before could apparently have such a profound affect on her, so she knew she would have to step in and put an end to this now, and see to it that it didn't happen again.

"Is there a problem here ladies?" Cam asked, her low alto voice filling the air like a warm blanket.

Val spun around and came face to face with one of the few things in this life she truly feared. Cam's eyes never left Val's but she could feel those curious emerald eyes burning into her. Cam knew she had the full attention of every person in the room.

"C-Cam, why are you here?" the big appearance-challenged bleached-blonde asked, made very nervous by the dark dangerous woman's sudden appearance.

She had thought she had a clear shot at the pretty little golden haired woman. Val had already made plans on how she was going to break the obviously innocent woman, in Val's mind, she was already enjoying the victim's delightful screams as Val and her two stooges subjected that perfectly proportioned body to the most exquisite torments. Now all her carefully planned scenarios were crashing into a brick wall named Cam Brusard.

"A better question is why are you here, Val?" Cam asked her voice deceptively calm "Did someone order chicken-hawk extra ugly with a double side of sleaze?"

Val trembled uncontrollably, her eyes narrowed with rage every fiber of her primitive body wanted to lash out at the woman confronting her. She knew she had Cam outnumbered and normally that would be enough, but this was Cam and Val knew what the barely restrained woman facing her was capable of doing in a matter of seconds. She knew that even with two more, they still wouldn't stand a chance; she had known and seen the two women that had stabbed Cam when she first got there, and Val had no intention of ending up like them.

"I think that's between us and the new little fish over there." Val answered with mock bravado in a last ditch to get her hands on the pretty blonde. "Why?"

Cam heard the frightened little woman gasp, fearing that her rescuer would bow out and leave at the dubious mercies of the three women that had trapped her in the showers.

"Please." Cheryl said softly, that one word held all her hopes and fears, it was almost a prayer to the dark goddess that had simply appeared unexpectedly, seemingly coming to her aid.

"Sorry Val, she's mine." Cam stated flatly, her ice blue eye boring into the bleach blonde's brain uncovering her deep seeded fear of the terrifying avenging angel facing her.

"S-s-sorry Cam, we didn't know." Val stuttered as she began cautiously backing out of the showers signaling her two cronies to join her in her retreat. "We'll get out of here and leave the two of you alone."

"Good idea Val," Cam growled softly, her eyes transmitting messages of deadly retribution. "I'd hate to think you are trying to cut my time Val. Now would I?"

"Uh huh, no problem Cam," all three said in unison then they were gone.

Leaving Cam and their intended victim alone in the showers, just as Cam figured she was going to have to try to clean up Val's mess before anyone found out about this face off. Cam only hoped this frightened little bunny was going to be worth her time and worry. After the face off with the extremely ugly chicken hawk named Val and Val's two anorexic stooges Cam was left with an empty shower and a badly frightened young woman who was facing the cruelest sections of the world she had lived her sheltered life in. The poor woman was huddled in a corner completely naked, in a fetal position on the cold tile floor. Sensing her distress Cam took a few moments to try to figure out the best way to handle this woman without causing her to think that Cam was just as bad as the slime that the tall quietly dangerous woman had just sent away. Cam got a spare towel from a shelf and went to the woman huddled in the corner. The tall woman's heart ached for the obviously terrified newcomer, she knelt down and held the towel to the still wet, and trembling woman.

"Hey, sorry about the welcoming committee little one." Cam said softly trying to sooth the insecure young woman. "You know you really shouldn't come in here alone, a pretty one like you could get in a lot of trouble."

The little blonde looked up at the familiar stranger, and her eyes grew wide with surprise at her savior's words.

"G-get in trouble!" Cheryl blurted out confused by the now friendly woman offering her a towel.

The little emerald-eyed blonde took the towel and thanked her for it with a nod of her head. Cam stood up and turned to leave.

"What do you mean by that?" Cheryl asked trying to reconcile this beautiful smiling woman with the tall dark angry Goddess that had oozed death and destruction, just minutes before.

"Haven't you heard?" Cam quipped in answer to her astonished audience," some of the people here ain't very nice."

The echo of Cam's deep rich laughter at her own joke echoed after her as she left the showers, leaving a very confused young woman watching the retreating broad-shouldered back. Cheryl knelt there on the floor clutching the towel to her chest, until a cold chill reminded her that she was still wet and naked. She quickly dried herself and got dressed. As she was dressing, Cheryl found a small folded up piece of paper, but she waited until she was dressed before checking it out. She was surprised that it was a note from her rescuer.

Little One...If you would like to talk and maybe even learn something, come to my bunk this afternoon. Just ask for Cam, they all know where to find me. Cam

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/alexp_jd1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 09 ruj 2012 09:57

obiteljska drama...rak dojke... 4 dijela... Autumn Winds, Winter Snows, Spring Rains, Summer Heat

~ Autumn Winds ~
by Anne Azel

Janet woke to the Beep! Beep! of the Roadrunner. The sleep slowly left her mind, as she blinked in the sunlight, to be replaced by the jolt of memory. I've got cancer! The words were a shock wave crashing through her being. Why did everything sound and look so normal? Her alarm brought her eyes to the clock. Time to get up for work. There was so much to be done; she couldn't afford to feel sorry for herself. Okay, Janet, move your butt. Forcing the depressive thoughts to the back of her mind, she slid from the bed that she had shared with Robbie. To her surprise, there was a small bunch of wild daisies lay on the pillow beside her own. She reached over and slipped out the card that rested underneath. The picture on the card was of a storm over a wind tossed sea. Janet flipped the card open, recognizing Robbie's bold handwriting. I am not worried. There is nothing you can't handle. Robbie. The fear that had fuelled her morning depression shrunk back into proportion. As long as Robbie believed in her, she knew she could see this storm through. A warm, fuzzy feeling filled her heart. I wish people knew Robbie as I knew her. She slipped into her house-coat and padded softly out of the bedroom and down the hall to peep around the corner. Robbie was sitting on the floor with Reb between her legs watching The Roadrunner cartoon on T.V. They were sporting matching black eyes. "See, Reb, there is good animation in the character, but none in the background. That's how you save time and money. You gotta watch those below the line costs when you're a director. Good point-of- view here as the Roadrunner falls off the cliff again. You see him from the top and then from underneath and then below ground level all within a twenty second time frame. You remember, I told you there are twenty-four cels to a second of animation, so that scene had about eight to ten cels."

"Oadunna Ody! Oadunna!" squealed Rebecca with delight, pointing to the screen.

"That's right, Rebel. Roadrunner."

"What's a cel?" asked Janet, leaning in the doorway watching the two interact with delight.

Robbie looked up in surprise and a blush crept up her neck. "It's a word Disney created. Short for celluloid, which is the type of plastic the cartoons are painted on."

"Do you do cartoons too, Robbie?" asked Janet coming over to the pair.

"Mommy!" demanded Rebecca, standing up and holding her arms up to be lifted. Robbie patted the spot beside her. Instead of picking Reb up, Janet curled up beside the director on the floor and let Reb climb into her lap.

"Morning, Reb," Janet greeted her daughter, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You, little one, are up very early."

"We went for a walk after my run this morning," explained Robbie, proudly.

Janet looked up and smiled with delight into Robbie's eyes and Robbie found her insides melting like an over heated candle. My God, she wanted this woman! She'd felt desire many times before but not like this. This was a hunger that just wasn't going to be denied.

"I need to be getting ready for work, but just share with me a little bit about what you and Reb have been talking about." Janet reached a hand out to briefly squeeze Robbie's arm. "Thank you for the flowers. It made my morning a lot brighter."

Robbie snapped back from her world of sensations and tried to remember what it had been she had been telling the kid! "Ahhh, you're welcome. Reb found them. No, I've never made a cartoon. It would be fun to try but it is hard to compete with companies the size of Disney. Even Universal can't match their work."

"How are they made?" asked Janet, enjoying the pride that Robbie took in her field. Robbie lost all her defensiveness when she talked about the art of film. Janet liked that side of her friend.

"Well, you start with the story, the script. Then the team is brought together to make a storyboard, which is like a big comic book only with just rough sketches. It's a brainstorming session where ideas are developed and interrelated. Once an idea is agreed on, it is written on the storyboard. That way, everyone working on separate parts of the production - animation, sound, background, special effects - will know how all the parts are to fit together."

"When you see an animated movie, you are actually seeing individual pictures moving at a rate of twenty-four frames per second. So, for every second of film the animator draws twenty-four pictures! In reality, the animator will do only the main positions of the character. They're called the extremes. The assistant animator draws the main interconnecting stages between the extremes, called the breakdowns. The less practiced artists, called inbetweeners, fill in the remaining sequences, called tweeners."

"Producing a cartoon feature takes a lot of time and money. It has to be a real team effort. A Disney or Universal production, of feature length, will take three to four years to produce and have around 400,000 drawings."

"But aren't they just produced by computer now?" asked Janet, looking at the cartoon closely as Roadrunner handed the coyote a stick of dynamite.

"Computers are used to set colour and create reversals and things like that but no, the only way to make a good cartoon is by hand. It is an amazing art form."

"So everything I'm seeing is done on cels?"

"The characters are. The backgrounds are painted. Each cel is put on, filmed, removed and the next one in the sequence put on."

"I guess I'd better not make some inane remark about cartoons being cute, kid stuff, huh?!" Janet laughed giving Robbie an affectionate push with her shoulder.

Robbie smiled down at her, one eyebrow raised. "Nope."

The urge to reach up and kiss Robbie was almost uncontrollable. Instead, Janet passed Reb back to her and got up. "Well, I've got a busy day. I'd better not be late."

Robbie watched Janet disappear back down the hall and then quickly picked Reb up and deposited her in her play pen. "Listen, Reb, play with Pooh Bear here for a bit and don't cry, got it?! I'll be right back!"

Janet stripped off her house-coat and nightie and turned on the shower to adjust the temperature. She turned back to get her shampoo and hit a human wall. "Ahh! Robbie! You scared me! How can anyone so big, move so silently," gasped Janet, recovering from her shock to feel a blush flooding her cheeks as she realized she was totally naked.

An eyebrow went up and the corner of a mouth raised in a bemused smile. "I had to follow you. You didn't give me a good morning kiss," reasoned Robbie.

"Hmmm, where's Reb?"

"Penned."

"Come here," ordered Janet with a smile as she wrapped her arms around Robbie's neck. There was no timidness this time. Open, hungry lips sought each other in a passionate dance. Tongues stroked and curled and sucked in a sensual imitation of things not yet done. Robbie let her hands slide down to cup Janet's round, firm bottom, and felt the responsive woman moan deep into her mouth.

Yes, now! Robbie thought and moved one hand to glide over a well defined waist, across tight abdomen muscles and up to the soft, warm breast. Robbie slipped her tongue deep into Janet's mouth as her thumb rubbed over a taunt nipple. Oh God, I'm going to come right here, Robbie thought as she bathed in the heat and scent of Janet's body. Janet felt Robbie's explorations on a rush of heady sexual energy. Her whole being tingled with need and she rubbed herself along the lean hard body wrapped around her. She throbbed with want and tore Robbie's shirt free of her jeans so that she could run her hands across the silk-covered steel of the actor's chest. Ohhh, I should stop. Oh God, I can't! Then the hand that was rhythmically feeling her breast touched the area where the tumor lay.

Janet stepped back and leaned her head against Robbie's chest. "We can't."

"Why the hell not!" came the frustrated response, rough and breathless with desire.

Janet stood on her tip toes and kissed Robbie's cheek. "Because I'm not going to tie you to me when in a few days time my world could turn upside down. I can't anyway. I need to get ready for work and we can't leave Reb long," explained the teacher, unconsciously tracing patterns over Robbie's bra cup with the tip of her finger. Bother, she had fallen hard for this complex and moody woman.

"Okay," Robbie agreed with a sigh, as she kissed Janet lightly on her brow and lowered her hands to rest on Janet's hips. Janet's hands dropped slowly, weaving patterns across Robbie's chest, as she pulled her hands from under the T-shirt. Forest green eyes met winter blue. "This is not over," Robbie warned. "It is just beginning. I want you."

Janet nodded. She had entered that wind tossed sea and the elements were going to take her where they may in the next few days. One thing she knew was she wanted one night at least when she lay on golden sands and made love to Robbie to the beat of the sea of emotions that stormed within. " Nothing I can't handle," quoted Janet cheekily. Robbie laughed. "Now go get my daughter fed and dressed. I'm running late and need your help!'

Another quick kiss and Robbie was gone. Janet stepped into the now lukewarm shower and let the water beat against her sensitized flesh. My God, where is all this going?!

Janet gulped down the last mouthful of coffee as a too innocent Robbie and Reb stood by watching. "Okay, Wednesday, you went a round with Reb and lost, Thursday, you bought a truck, what is on the agenda for today?"

"Reb and I are going shopping," smiled Robbie.

"Well, that sounds harmless. If anyone asks for an autograph, please don't hand the baby away," laughed Janet, picking up her briefcase. "You sure you want to keep Rebecca all day? She can come with me to the daycare..."

"We'll be fine. She has to get used to me, in case you're laid up for a bit next week. We discussed this," responded Robbie, with an edge to her voice. Didn't Janet trust her!

Oh, oh, Williams' temper, observed Janet. "I know we did, but I'd hate Reb to get you in any trouble," giggled Janet, placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek and then Robbie's.

An eyebrow went up, "Funny!"

"Call me at lunch?" Janet asked in a worried voice, turning back at the door to look at the two trouble makers standing holding hands.

Robbie rolled her eyes. "I'll report in on regular intervals.

Janet laughed as she looked back through the now closed screen door. "You won't have to. Once people know you are in town, I'll get a constant report of your movements through the jungle telegraph!" Robbie snorted and Janet trotted down the porch steps and a few minutes later disappeared along the dirt road in her truck.

Robbie looked down at Reb. Reb looked up with a smile. "Kid, it is time to get the ingredients to seduce your mother. Come on!"

Gwen cradled the phone and cursed Robbie to a lower level of Hades than she had placed her yesterday. Her e-mail could patch hell a mile, she just wished she had shares in Bell Canada, and she'd had to post a security guard at the office door to repel boarders, in order to get any work done at all. And the instructions she and Brian were carrying out in Robbie's name indicated strongly that the woman was up to no good!

To her surprise, a ring came from her purse. Damn! The bastards have got my home number now! No, it might be her husband or one of the kids, she'd better answer it. "Hello, Gwen here!"

"Gwen, Robbie. Why can't I get through on the office phone?" came the impatient voice of Gwen's boss.

"Because you are behind at least a million others in line! That's why! Come back!" the harassed secretary responded.

"No! Listen, I'm in the grocery store. Do you know they've got these neat carts with seats for your kid? Where do I look for the Thanksgiving food?"

Silence. Robbie was clearly in one of her moods when she was going to try to stir things up. Patience! Then, "Robbie have you ever been in a grocery store before?"

"Sure I have, in grade two. Mrs. Rousseau bought the class to check out the vegetables."

"Oh God!" came the exasperated response.

"Hey, that was the Cook's job. It would have been presumptuous of me to interfere!" responded her boss, hiding her irritation behind a mask of sarcasm. It wasn't a crime to be raised rich.

"How do you eat?!"

"Eat out or cater in."

"How can you look the way you do and have such appalling eating patterns?! Okay, listen, above all don't lose your temper. Everyone has right of way over you because you're the new guy. Don't block the aisles, and if anything goes wrong give your name as Lucy Lawless," ordered Gwen, doing a little stirring herself. She got the response she wanted.

"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE LUCY LAWLESS!"

"Hmmm, first, we look for the meat counter. It's a cold section, usually towards the back of the store."

"Okay, here, Reb say hi to Aunty Gwen while I steer this thing. I have to get the one with the rusted wheels. It probably spent the winter in a snow drift and was only salvaged last spring," muttered Robbie, striding awkwardly with the wonky cart towards the back of the store.

Reb giggled gleefully. "Hi!"

"Hi, Rebecca! How are you?"

"Hi."

If I wrote a book, no one would believe it, Gwen thought with a sigh. "Is Robbie there, Rebecca?"

"Hi."

"Hi, Rebecca. Where is your mom?"

"Ad school. Mommy teacha. Oby di-ectta."

Robbie took the phone back. "Okay I'm here. And people complain about violence in movies! The carnage wrapped up on Styrofoam trays back here is scary. I'd hate to meet the butcher after hours. What are you laughing at?!"

"She calls you Oby!" giggled Gwen, her day improving immensely. "Wait until I tell Brian!"

"She does not! She calls me Robbie. She just hasn't mastered r's yet. R's are particularly hard, as an actor would tell you!" Robbie defended hotly.

More giggles. "Okay, you want ham, right? Two people, look for something around five or six kilograms, anything smaller and it will dry out."

"What does raw ham look like?"

"Robbie! For God's sakes, work with me here! The packages are labeled!"

By the time the exhausted and long suffering Gwen had talked Robbie through the grocery store, word had got out that Robbie Williams was in town. After she had paid for her groceries, she sat on the counter and signed autographs and gave an interview to and was photographed by the local paper. Robbie, true to her word, did not hand the squirming child over to anyone else, although she did make sure not to let Rebecca's face show in the picture. Then, having charmed the locals, she headed over to the community centre to buy the three of them tickets to the town hall Thanksgiving dinner put on by the Ladies Auxilliary. Lastly, she asked directions at the gas station about how to get to the lumber mill, before heading back to the cabin for lunch. The phone was ringing when she staggered through the door with Reb and two bags of groceries.

Dropping all three on the couch she grabbed it. "Hello."

"Hi, I could have got the tickets for the dinner. Should I buy extra copies of the paper so you can send the article to your family? And why do you need to go to the saw mill?" came a familiar voice.

Robbie burst out laughing. "Wow! And I didn't even do anything news worthy!"

"We live in the Canadian back bush, in a village with a population of 493, most of them related. Last week's headlines in The Barlett Gazette were about the minister buying a new car. Don't evade. What are you up to at the saw mill?"

"It's a surprise."

"I can live with surprises just not nasty , big shocks. Is that Reb I hear?!"

"No, that was eight cans of baked beans hitting the floor. Reb is inside the paper bag that they used to be in."

"Why do we have eight cans of baked beans?"

"They were on sale and came highly recommended by the store manager. It was a P.R. gesture. It was a lot cheaper than a billboard in Time Square. How are things going there?"

"Carolyn and Milka are pretty upset. The others don't know yet. I'll call a meeting after school to tell them about the administrative changes. Milka and I sat down and have gone through things with Carolyn. They are both bright women and professional. It's short notice, but if I'm not gone too long, I think they can manage."

"Good."

"Ahhh, I miss you."

Janet could feel Robbie's smile right through the phone. "I miss you too, school marm, hurry home."

Robbie picked up the cans and unpacked the ham, vegetables and baby. Then she made them corn flakes and milk for lunch. It was a short time later that she realized that two year olds really need to be asked if they need to go to the bathroom on a fairly regular basis. Sometime later, having turned the air blue with curses, a fresh Reb and an exhausted Robbie headed out to the saw mill. It turned out to be a pretty small operation. It was owned by a local, by the name of Walter Higgins. He was fifty-six, married, and his two children worked at the mill. Doug ran the circular saw and Tracy was the secretary cum bookkeeper. They owned about two hundred hectares around the Long Lake where Janet's cabin was situated and another thousand hectares to the east. So far, Walt had used the lake block mainly for hunting, except for the five or six hectares on which sat the saw mill itself. The saw mill was on Saw Mill Road just off Highway 11 about twenty miles north of Long Lake Road. They certainly didn't kill any brain cells coming up with names around here, thought Robbie as she turned off the highway. She had got all her background information easily enough by simply asking for directions to the mill. All information seemed to be given out up here wrapped in local history. She also knew that Walt's wife May had the arthritis bad and that Tracy was seeing Lou's boy, whoever Lou was!

A big beefy man with a friendly round face walked towards the truck as Robbie slid out and flipped back the seat to get to Reb in the back. "Hi, I'm Walter Higgins. I heard you were heading up this way, eh. It's a great pleasure to meet you, Ms. Williams!"

Robbie helped Reb down and held on to her hand tightly. Janet would never forgive her if she brought the kid home cut in two pieces! "Hi! It's nice to meet you, Walt. Is that your family over there?" May, Tracy and Doug were grinning awkwardly by the office door.

"Yup, that's them. Come over and meet the brood!"

"Sure!" Robbie smiled happily, inwardly cursing all family gatherings to hell. Janet laughed about "northern time". Robbie found nothing funny about it at all! True, no one was going to die of an ulcer, but they might grow roots! It was no wonder the north of Canada was so under developed! No one had got around to starting anything yet!

"This here's my wife, May and our kids, Tracy and Doug, eh."

"Hi! Great to meet you!"

"Ohh, Ms. Williams! I saw you in Midnight Terror, and I was so afraid for you! It was a wonderful movie!"

Robbie beamed (insincerely). "Thanks! Call me Robbie. Actually, I was rather afraid myself, with all those cars whizzing past me in the dark. I kept getting drenched every time one hit a puddle!" Everyone laughed and relaxed. The actor was human, Robbie thought sarcastically, behind her stage smile.

"Well, what can we do for you? Little Janet need some more winter wood?" asked Walt.

Business at last! "No, actually I have an offer I'd like to put to you. Can we use your office?" asked Robbie bending to pick Reb up. The child had been trying to escape since she had been released from the truck.

"Well, this has come as a surprise!" said Walter Higgins, flopping back into his chair and looking totally shocked. "Never thought about sellin, eh. But I'll have to turn you down. I guess, some day, Doug will take over and well, both my kids make their livin here. Now Tracy, she has been steppin out with Lou but..."

"Five hundred thousand."

"Good God, woman! No, my kids have got to make a livin!"

"May could go south for the winters. It would be great for her arthritis. There are more Canadians in Arizona and Florida than Americans. AND I'll guarantee good jobs for the kids, once I get my business under way."

"You're going to run a saw mill?!"

"Something like that; one million, my last offer," growled Robbie, bored by the chatty negotiation.

No response. The clock on the plywood wall ticked twelve seconds. "I need to talk to my family."

Robbie smiled. "Tell your kids that their starting salaries will be $30,000. They'll be working as Grips and get to be on set and meet all the stars."

"$30,000! Hell, that's good money for a starting salary up here! That's mighty generous!" babbled Walt.

Robbie stood with a sigh of annoyance. "It has nothing to do with generosity. It has to do with a union that has producers and directors by the... over the barrel," amended Robbie. "I'll let the family know that you want a board meeting."

Robbie played hid and seek with Reb around the yard, the two of them getting pretty muddy and sticky from pine gum. Sometime later, Walt came out and walked over to the two. He held out a hand. "You got a deal there, Robbie."

Robbie flashed one of her famous smiles. "Let's go phone our lawyers."

Janet hung up from having talked to the Chair of the school trustees. She rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, spinning it around so that she could look down the lawns to the shoreline of Lake Superior. Patronizing jackass! she thought.

Carolyn burst in. "Janet, you'll never guess!"

"What have they done?" drawled Janet, turning back prepared to hear the worst. She just knew deep in her heart that her daughter had found a kindred spirit in Robbie and that trouble was going to follow them like a wake.

"She bought out Walt Higgins lock, stock and barrel for a million dollars!"

Janet's feet hit the floor with a bang as she sat forward with a start. "She's done what?!"

"Okay, Reb, we gotta think in terms of dinner here. You know I'm kinda the house-mom this week. Weird huh?" Robbie chatted happily to the baby, who was banging pans together with some energy as she sat on the kitchen floor. Robbie stopped what she was doing and looked down at the percussion section, "Say kid, maybe you'll take up jazz. I like jazz. I play a pretty good trumpet you know...well for an amateur. There's a clarinet in your mom's closet. I saw it while I was snooping. Maybe we could form a group and jam!"

The baby giggled and slammed two pot lids together. Robbie laughed and went back to opening a can of baked beans and dumping them into a pan. Getting all those cans of baked beans was a good idea after all, Robbie reasoned. Now she wouldn't have to worry about meals.

The door slammed open and Janet strode in throwing her case on the couch as she went by. Robbie looked up in surprise. The sound of crashing pans had masked the arrival of Janet's truck. "Hi!" called Robbie cheerfully licking the spoon clean of cold baked beans.

"Don't you hi me, Robbie Williams, as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth! What are you up to? You can't just come into this town and turn people's lives upside down. A million dollars for the old lumber yard! Robbie those people make a living out there! It's one of the few industries in the town!" roared Janet, standing in the centre of the living room shaking with anger and beet red with emotion.

Robbie's body went strangely still and her facial muscles hardened into an expression totally devoid of emotion. The blue eyes that had sparkled a second before like rain drops in the sun were now the colour of glacial ice. "I wanted it. I bought it," she hissed.

"And what about Doug and Tracy?!"

"I bought them off," Robbie shrugged.

"Bought them off! These are people, Robbie, not stock commodities! What the hell is a Grip?" demanded Janet coming to hold on to the edge of the stone topped counter with white fingers.

Robbie leaned against the back counter forcing her body that was taunt with rage to relax. "It's someone who fetches and carries on site. They set up the sets under the charge of the chief grip."

"Mommy?"

Janet ran an unsteady hand through her hair. " And just where are they going to work? Toronto? They'd hate it! Damn it Robbie! You've ruined these people's lives on a whim!"

"Bad Mommy," called Rebecca, upset at her mother's anger as she pulled on Janet's skirt.

"Giving some one a million dollars is not wrecking anyone's life!" came the snarled response.

"You would say that," Janet yelled, "You stupid Williams think money and power is everything!"

"Mommy!!"

"Shut up Rebecca!" Janet snapped looking down at the annoyance that was pulling at her skirt. Reb's face crumpled into a tight knot and her mouth opened in surprise. Then the tears started to fall and the wail of hurt echoed in the now silent room.

Janet dropped to her knees and wrapped the small child close to her. "Oh, Reb, I'm so sorry! Shhhh,

baby. Mommy didn't mean it. I'm so sorry!"

Robbie looked down at the two with eyes filled with confusion and pain. Then she silently left. Outside, the cool air felt good against her hot skin. Anger and hurt coursed through her system in pulsating waves. She broke into a run down the path. The miles moved passed in green walls of trees as Robbie pushed herself on and on down the shoulder off the road. Finally, as the sun was dropping towards the western horizon, she came to a staggering stop and dropped down into some long, sun baked grass by the side of a beaver swamp. For a while, she lay on her back gasping for breath and trying to work the cramps out of her oxygen starved muscles. Finally, pushing herself up, she walked down to the edge of the pond and knelt to splash cold water over her hot body. A wack and a splash, a beaver, angry with the intrusion, slapped its flat tail against the water and then swam out to the relative safety of its home, a dome of mud and sticks half submerged in the water. Robbie watched as the beaver slapped the water once more in warning and then dove below the surface to the entrance of its snug den. Despite her foul mood she smiled. In the soft, honey glow of the late afternoon, the bog and its creatures was a beautiful site. It had been a long time, Robbie realized, since she had just stopped and enjoyed nature. She sat down, wrapping her arms around her legs and listened to the chirp of the frogs calling to each other. Over head bats and swallows swooped across the darkening sky chasing insects. Robbie slapped at a mosquito. It was time to head back. She got up reluctantly, unwilling to deal with the conflict back at the cabin. With a sigh she set an easy jog back. Maybe the bitch would be in bed by the time she got there and she wouldn't have to deal with the issue. Thump, thump, the rhythmic tread of Robbie's sneakers echoed in the dark. She hadn't realized that she had run so far or so fast. She had been jogging now for almost two hours and she had only just reached the turn off to the cabin. It was dark now and she had actually run passed the driveway, only catching sight of Janet's mail box at the last minute and doing a U-turn to drop into the blackness of the long lane. She slowed a bit, unable to see her footing on the rutted path. If I stay here, I'm going to have to get this driveway paved, she thought. That is if she didn't find her stuff on the stoop when she got back! Okay, maybe she had acted a bit impulsively but going with her gut reaction was the way she ran her business. Although she headed a multi million dollar company, she was an entrepreneur by nature not a business person. It was the empire building she loved not the maintenance of a corporation. Tigers hunt and sheep stay home on the farm, she thought. She didn't have time to worry about individuals. Everyone has to look out for themselves! So why was she feeling guilty? Okay, so I promised Doug and Tracy more than a salary. I promised them jobs. I've got some ideas. I'm just not ready to talk about them yet. They're not so much ideas as they are those gut feelings again that just let me know I'm headed down the right path. How can I explain that to Janet without sounding like an idiot? In the long run, what I did today will work out all right for everyone, I just don't know how yet. Thump, thump. I'm not used to having to share ideas. If I'd told Janet more this morning when she asked about my plans, maybe we wouldn't have fought. I guess I did put her in an embarrassing position. This is a small town and all and I am her guest sort of. Maybe I could have cut her some slack too. How would I handle knowing that I had cancer and could die. How would I say good bye? Robbie's stomach reacted violently at this thought. Sending her to the side of the road to throw up. The thought of losing Janet or Reb was like a shot through her heart. Damn. I gotta work out more. When was the last time I threw up after a run? The Boston marathon? Robbie wiped the cold sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. Shit! Janet sat in the corner of the couch, a small forlorn figure. She had a very stressful day and her talk with the chair of the Board had been the icing on the cake. 'So where do we stand here Janet? Should we be posting your job and interviewing? I'm sympathetic but the school has to have consistent and strong leadership.' The insufferable bastard had her dead and buried already! She should have told him to go to hell but instead she had been diplomatically reassuring and come home instead and dumped all over Robbie. It hadn't been fair. Not that Robbie hadn't acted high handedly but she could have at least given her the chance to explain. Robbie had dropped everything and come to support a complete stranger when asked and in return Janet had insulted and berated her! She got up once more and looked out into the dark night. Where are you? She wondered again if she should wake up Reb and take the truck out to look for Robbie. She might have been hit by a car and be lying in a ditch somewhere. A wave of fear brought out a cold sweat on her forehead and goose bumps on her arms. She was going to get Reb and start searching. Then she saw the tall figure jog tiredly into the circle of the porch light and she shot out the screen door, down the porch steps and into Robbie's startled arms.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed into a sweaty shoulder.

"Me too, love. Me too," groaned Robbie holding Janet in a tight embrace.

Robbie emerged from the shower to the reassuring smell of canned pork and beans and fresh toast. She wrapped a towel around her and combed her hair back straight. Then she headed out to the kitchen where Janet was just dishing up their late meal. They sat side by side on high stools eating their meal at the bar counter. Their conversation was pleasant but forced each of them still trying to deal with the emotion of their fight. Usually a fight didn't bother Robbie much. If she needed to dress some one down she did. She paid her employees well and they had an outstanding benefits package. In return, Robbie expected excellence and a high performance level to match her own.

But fighting with Janet had really hurt and it had left her feeling confused and vulnerable. She knew Janet was waiting for her to explain why she had bought the lumber yard. "Ahhhh, it bothers me that you slept with my brother." Why the hell had she said that?!

"W..What?!"

"I said, it bothers me that you slept with my brother," Robbie repeated moodily, stabbing at her meal with her fork.

"I didn't."

"W...What?!"

"I didn't. Do you really think I'd sleep with a stranger?! It was done artificially."

Robbie tossed down her fork and turned to look at Janet. Blue moody eyes met flashing green. "You sorta implied that! It explains a lot. I didn't think my brother...Reb was mixed up in a petri dish?!"

"Basically, yes."

"A test tube kid?!"

"There is nothing wrong with that or my daughter!" responded Janet, her temper rising again. Robbie broke out laughing. "What's so funny?!"

"It just explains a lot. Ahhhh, about Billy and about you. Ahhh, well, ahhh, it was just weird wanting to bed a woman that had slept with my brother."

"You make me feel like a hand- me-down shirt," grumbled Janet sipping off the stool to remove the plates.

"You are the most beautiful and enticing woman I have ever met," Robbie said honestly.

Now it was Janet's turn to laugh as she ran hot water in the sink. "You will say and do anything to get me into bed won't you?!" she giggled and then looking over her shoulder she saw Robbie's face.

"I meant it," Robbie said quietly and went to look out the window into the dark night.

Janet wiped the soap suds off her hands and followed after Robbie. "Hey," she said wrapping her arms around the actor's waist and leaning her head against Robbie's muscular back. "I'm sorry. I guess it is hard for me to believe that of all the beautiful and talented people you have known, you would find me the most appealing."

Robbie said nothing. There was a lot she knew she should say but somehow the words just weren't there. Funny, she never had trouble writing dialogue. But it was different when it was real emotion and you had to actually say the words. Janet sensed the tension in Robbie and realized that the complex woman needed some emotional space.

"Thank you for saying it though. It makes me feel very special. I...I care for you Robbie. Hey, you want to teach me some more about film? We could go through my videos and you could tell me about them."

Robbie turned and gave Janet a quick hard hug. Pull yourself together here Robbie. You are supposed to be supporting Janet not her you! "Sure. You let me know when you've had enough. I can go on for hours!"

They walked hand in hand over to the television inset and settled down once again on the rug. Robbie sorted through Janet's videos with disdain. "I'm going to buy you a decent collection of films for Christmas. This lot are an embarrassment!"

"Hmmmm," Janet agreed, allowing Robbie to take over and find the safe ground she needed for her warring emotions.

"Okay, we'd better look at Disney cartoons. Seeing as Reb has been buying the videos in this house.

Beauty and the Beast was a block buster. It was beautifully made. Look at this horse pulling the cart through the dark woods. The animation is great. You can feel the weight, the muscle and the fear, it says draft horse and yet the expressions are human."

"Wait until I forward. Okay, observe the detail in the castle. Forget about the characters, just look at the background, the depth of detail and intense shadows and feel of dimension. The people who do the backgrounds are not animators, you know, they are fine artist. This work is superb! And then there is the personification of the clock, candlestick etc. This is Disney at its best!

Okay, look at this scene of the napkins spinning on the table and then parachuting off the edge. Remember that! Right here's Fantasia, which is the mother of classics in film amination. In my opinion it is the best animation ever made. Okay, see this scene, where the blossoms spin down the waterfalls, where have you seen that?"

"It's the same as the napkins!" exclaimed Janet getting as involved as Robbie in what she was seeing.

"Got it in one! This is one team of animators paying homage to another. Fantasia was made way back before the war. Walt wanted it to be an on going project where the film would be morphed each season and would be reissued. But there wasn't the money after the war to do that. There is talk that it might be done in the next few years."

"I love Fantasia!" exclaimed Janet eyes sparkling.

Robbie gave her a quick hug. "Good girl. There is hope for you yet!" Janet poked Robbie in the ribs.

Robbie leaned forward and slipped Beauty and the Beast back in the machine and rewound to near the beginning.

"Each character is done by one team with a manager overseeing. The woman who was in charge of the team that worked on Belle in Beauty and the Beast had the habit of using her hand to brush her hair back off her face when she leaned over a drawing board. The animators put the gesture in as a joke."

On the screen Janet saw Belle reach up and push her hair out of her eyes. "She did it!" laughed Janet with delight.

"Yep, there are all sorts of hidden jokes in film. Here's another one. The teams that did Beauty and the Beast did the crowd scenes for Hunchback while other teams did the principal characters. But they left their mark! Look closely now, right here near the beginning of the film when their showing the streets of Paris, see the character rounding the corner, she is only on for a half second..."

"It's Belle!" laughed Janet clapping her hands.

Robbie laughed at Janet's enthusiasm. "Right. Different coloured outfit but it's Belle all right."

Robbie slipped the tape out and got up to put some soft jazz on the stereo. She got two wine glasses out while Janet watched. Expertly, Robbie uncorked one of the bottles of Mouton Cadet from the private vineyards of the Rothchild's that she had bought for their thanksgiving dinner. The brick coloured wine glowed in the soft light of the fire. For a while, they lay contentedly watching the flames and sipping their wine. Like so many good French wines, it had that rich mushroomy body and peppery finish that was a delight to the senses.

"I bought the land for you," Robbie muttered not daring to look at Janet.

"What?!" came the startled response as Janet put down her wine and turned to face Robbie. Robbie downed the last of her wine and put her glass next to Janet's.

"You said you didn't want to see the trees around the lake cut down. So I bought the land for you," admitted Robbie starring with interest at the rug, as a blush crept up her neck.

"Oh Robbie!" came a strangled gasp and Robbie found her arms wrapping around the small woman that had just propelled herself into the taller woman's lap.

The music started slowly, a melody of rich, liquid notes that rained softly from a mellow guitar. Robbie let her mouth caress Janet's face, ears and neck enjoying the soft, rhythmic gasps of delight from the woman under her. The guitar picked up the tempo as clothes were loosened and discarded. Now the rhythm took over repeating its beat in an earnest need. Hot music, hot flesh as Janet let Robbie play her body like a finely tuned instrument. The guitar thumped out a crescendo of notes as Janet's body groaned with each passing wave of release. The melody was passed to the piano player who hungrily took up the age old melody. Janet rolled Robbie onto her back and felt the woman's groan vibrate on her lips as she nuzzled a long, muscular neck. The music rose relentlessly to a climax allowing the pounding of the drums to take over and dominate. Then the other instruments once again took up the rhythmic refrain slowly, softly now bringing all the elements of the music into a single note that whispered off into silence. Much later, Robbie lay on her back in Janet's bed. The smaller woman was fast asleep lying on Robbie with her limbs dangling like a little, golden cub asleep in the sun. Robbie was in a state of total shock. Bases loaded in the top of the ninth and who slams home the home run but the opposition team! When had Robbie ever let go like that before? Never! She had given herself completely to Janet and had let all the defenses down, screaming with ecstasy as her body bucked with each passing after shock. She had never let herself be that vulnerable before. Never let someone control her so completely. My god! It had been wonderful! Tears rolled from the corners of Robbie's eyes and settled like dew drops on the floral sheets. My God! I'm in love, she realized with a shock. After all these years of being so careful not to make an emotional commitment to anyone, she had fallen hopelessly and completely in love without ever seeing it coming. She wrapped her arms around the sleeping form and nuzzled her face into Janet's soft hair. What the hell was she going to do now?!
Okay, okay, take it easy here, Robbie chastized herself as her heart pounded in her chest. I'll just end it. Walk away, like I have so many times before when things were starting to get serious. Her heart pained at the thought and the tears backed up and over flowed in a steady trickle. My God, I can't leave her!! I can't! Somehow life without Janet and Reb would be unbearable! So what now? I can't just sleep with this one and walk away. I don't want her to think that this is a conquest and nothing more. I want some sort of commitment. I'd go mad if I thought she slept with stupid Bill Perkins! Or anyone else for that matter! The laws in Ontario had been recently changed. She could ask Janet to marry her in a civil service. She could legal adopt Reb then. No. That was impossible not after... Well, at least she could do the honourable thing and be honest with Janet about how she felt. Not completely honest of course, she could never burden Janet with the complete truth but as honest as she could be at least. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would tell her. It was important that before she has this surgery that she know that I love her. The emotional pain this time brought a groan to Robbie's lips. Please God, don't take Janet. Please, she is all I've got, Robbie begged holding the sleeping woman close and crying in the darkness of the night. Janet returned to the livingroom after putting Reb down for her afternoon nap. It had been a beautiful Thanksgiving Saturday. She had woke in Robbie's arms her body nestled into a chair made by the curve of the taller woman's body. They had made love yet again and after a late breakfast on the porch the three of them had gone for a long walk and picked wild blueberries on the sun warmed granite rocks at the western end of Long Lake. They had a picnic lunch there under the blaze of fall colour. Later, they walked back hand in hand along the old, abandoned logging road that ran to the south of the lake. Through the picture window, Janet could see Robbie sitting on the porch rail looking out over the lake. Her arms were hooked around one leg that was bent up on the rail. The other long leg hung down. In her corded, Scottish wool sweater, she looked every inch the star. Robbie Williams in lights. It was hard to believe that this was the same woman who had given her so much pleasure last night and again this morning. I'm sleeping with THE Robbie Williams, she told herself , but in her heart, in that special place that was filled with love for this remarkable woman, she knew that this was just her Robbie. She was a complex and super private person who was so caring and honourable in her own vulnerable and stiff way. I love you Robbie, she whispered and then hid that knowledge deep before stepping out on the porch.

Robbie stood up and met her. Wrapping her in her arms and burying her face in Janet's hair. "Hmmm, you smell of summer heat and fresh herbs."

Janet laughed. "And Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo! Reb and I share." Too her surprise, Robbie bent and lifted her up into her arms. Eyes locked and Janet fell into the kiss, reveling in being so free and at easy with the powerful woman. If people could only know Robbie as I do, she thought again and then was surprised by the sudden dart of jealousy. No, she didn't want to share! She just wanted Robbie to herself forever! Tears had to be blinked back quickly. It was never going to be. To Robbie, she was just one more conquest.

"Hmmm, that's nice," whispered Janet.

"Yeah, it is." Robbie carried Janet over and placed her on the swing seat. Then she sat down beside her and placed her elbows on her knees looking down at the floor. Janet felt the lump forming in her throat and steeled herself. Here comes the famous Williams brush off.

"Ahhhh, I guess you realize that.... I ..I...I like you."

"I hope so Robbie. I am very fond of you."

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/anne_azel_aw1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 10 ruj 2012 21:24

naseljavanje Divljeg zapada...život Indijanaca...očuvanje prirode i početak stvaranj nacionalnih parkova u SAD-u... život početkom 20.st. u Londonu...gay scena u Londonu ... 2 dijela (Montana Journey, Mountains to the Sun)

MONTANA JOURNEY
by Amelia Sedley

Chapter 4

The young son of one of the horse wranglers brought the flowers and note to Annie in her tent.

"Miss Thomas, an English lady wanted these delivered to you. She gave me a shilling to bring’em to you."

Little Harry made regular trips to the tents of the women performers in the Wild West Show carrying flowers, gifts and notes from male admirers asking for a dinner date, an evening rendezvous or a ride in the park. This was the first time though he delivered flowers and a note to one of the show’s women from a female admirer. Annie accepted the gift and rewarded the messenger with a smile and hug. The boy pulled at his cap in thanks and then was off. She stepped back into her tent and placed the flowers on a table beside a folding cot. Annie’s home was a canvas A-frame tent with a wood floor covered by rugs. A small coal stove for heat stood in the back of the tent near a large wardrobe trunk that held the young woman’s clothes. Two canvas chairs sat next to a writing table with a kerosene lamp on it. A rack holding her rifles and pistols flanked the entrance to the tent. Annie knew who the admirer must be. The young blonde first noticed her a week ago, sitting in an expensive box seat on the edge of the arena. She was a handsome woman in her 30’s with chestnut hair worn swept back. The woman favored mannish, well-tailored street suits and plain hats. She appeared in the box for every evening performance. The Englishwoman soon made it clear she was there for only one reason, and that was Annie. When Annie galloped by, her eyes locked on the young American. Annie soon found it impossible to keep from sneaking glances at her. The older woman acknowledged her looks with a slight nod and smile.

Finally the overture was made with flowers and a note. "Join me in Hyde Park for a ride. I’ll wait for you at 10 in the morning on Saturday near the bandstand." read the note.

That Saturday morning Annie rode the short distance from the show grounds in West Kensington to the park. She wore one of her trick shot outfits - a split riding skirt, buckskin coat over a cotton shirt and a wide brimmed hat. Her long blonde hair spilled down her back, a somewhat risqué style. The young woman was mounted on the pinto she rode in the show. Colonel Cody encouraged the performers in his Wild West Show to go out in public in their performance outfits to create interest in his extravaganza. She quickly spotted her admirer waiting on horseback and cantered over.

Annie leaned forward in the saddle and offered her hand to the other woman, "My name is Annie Thomas."

The older woman appeared taken aback by that most American of all gestures, the handshake, but quickly recovered. Taking Annie’s hand in a firm grip, she answered, "I’m Stephen Ashcroft. Thank-you for accepting my invitation." The look she gave the young blonde was hard and appraising.

"Stephen is an unusual name for a woman."

"Ah, you Americans are rather direct. My given name is Diane but I have decided to call myself Stephen. A masculine name is more in keeping with the manner in which I choose to live my life. Shall we ride?" And so Annie was given both an explanation and a warning.

They rode together through the park for the next hour with Annie answering her companion’s many questions about the Wild West Show. The show was a month into its six months stay in London at the showground in West Kensington.

Then it was time for Annie to go. "Stephen, I need to return to the arena and get ready for the afternoon show."

The Englishwoman dismounted and walked over to Annie. She looked up at the blonde, placed her hand on Annie’s knee and moved it up her thigh coming to rest near her hip. "Annie, must I continue to attend performances of the Wild West Show to see you again?"

"Well, Colonel Cody wants to sell tickets to his show," Annie said teasingly.

Stephen laughed and her hand started its journey back down Annie’s leg.

Annie continued, "Join me at 9 next Sunday morning at our dining tent for a rib roast breakfast cooked western style. After breakfast I’ll show you the showgrounds."

The Englishwoman’s hand now rested perilously close to the bottom of the blonde’s riding skirt and Annie was unsure where it would roam next.

"I’ll see you next Sunday." Annie kicked the pinto and the horse jumped into a canter.

And why did Annie meet with Stephen that morning and why did she invite the older woman to a second meeting? By the end of their ride it was clear to the young blonde the Englishwoman’s plans were for more than a sentimental friendship. The answer rested in Annie’s desire to learn what there could be for two women beyond friendship. In that more innocent era at the turn of the century, intense friendships between women that included the exchange of passionate notes, long embraces and emotional declarations of love were not considered inappropriate. At the women’s college she attended in New York, the young Westerner was much sought after by her fellow classmates for "friendships." The long evenings of gentle caresses and soft kisses in dormitory rooms convinced Annie she wanted more than just the platonic embraces of romantic young women. Up until now her desires had gone unfulfilled. As for Stephen, she thought about Annie as she rode back to the park’s stables. Annie most certainly was much better educated than the older woman had expected and obviously from a refined background. The young blonde’s independence and straightforward manner was nicely balanced by her warmth and obvious innocence. And those green eyes! Yes, Annie was a most satisfactory challenge. Stephen relished the thought of the triumph she would feel when she finally mastered the young American. The week flew by for Annie. Though she had had been on tour for two years, she still looked forward to every performance. Billed as the "Colorado Cowgirl", Annie was a favorite of the London show goers. A natural performer, her act combined impressive marksmanship with humor and drama that captivated the audience. The young blonde felt the excitement build and her heart beat faster at the sound of the bugle calls and pounding Indian drums that announced the start of every performance. The massed performers led by Colonel Cody dashed into the arena on galloping horses. A roar from thousands of spectators always greeted them. Cowboys and cowgirls, Indians and cavalrymen, and Mexican vaqueros wearing big sombreros raced around the arena to the stirring music of the Cowboy Band. The three-hour performance went quickly. First there a demonstration of riding skills by cowboys, Indians and vaqueros that never failed to astonish the audience. A wagon train was attacked by Indians and rescued by the cavalry. Pony Express riders changed horses, women trick shots displayed their marksmanship skills and cowboys performed stunts with their lassos. Then there was the Indian attack on the Deadwood Stage pulled by six mules. Annie regularly played a passenger on the stage and would hang her head out a window pitifully screaming for help. Fortunately Colonel Cody and the cowboys always arrived in the nick of time to save the stage and its passengers. The Colonel Cody’s roast beef breakfast that Sunday was quite a success. One hundred English guests feasted on ribs of beef cooked over glowing coals in an open pit. Proper Englishmen eagerly gnawed on beef ribs they held in their hands. The breakfast was held in the show’s immense dining tent. There a crew of 80 meat cutters, cooks and bakers prepared and served meals cooked on a 14-foot kitchen range on wheels for the show’s 600 performers and workers. Following the breakfast, Annie and Stephen began their tour of the Wild West showground. Like most English visitors, the Indian Village fascinated Stephen. They walked among the tipis and watched children play.

"There’s a hundred Indian men, women and children who travel with the show. Colonel Cody recruits them mostly from the Sioux and Cheyenne reservations in the western United States. When the show first started, some of the warriors the Colonel recruited fought Custer at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. During the Ghost Dance troubles in the early 1890’s, the Army sentenced 19 Sioux chiefs and warriors to travel with the show in Europe. Colonel Cody wants to prove that now there is peace, white people and Indians can live and work together as Americans."

It was well known that Colonel Cody treated his Indian performers with a respect and dignity that was unusual for white Americans of that era. Yet there was considerable debate in America over how the Indians were presented to the world. Many within the government and charitable groups were angered by the savage, bloodthirsty impression of Indians given by the show. There is no record of what the Indians thought about the matter. It can be assumed they saw the show as an opportunity to escape the misery of the reservation and travel the world. Hopefully they were proud to once again wear their traditional clothes and display their way of life during the freedom days to thousands of spectators.
Annie enjoyed showing Stephen the small community where the over 600 performers, family members and workers of the Wild West Show lived and worked. They listened to an open-air concert performed by the Cowboy Band and then strolled arm in arm through the stable tents and the corrals that held buffalo, elk and longhorn steers. The two women stopped at the famous Deadwood mail stage pockmarked with bullet holes from past encounters with bandits and Indians.

"Annie, were you riding with Lord Fernley in the Deadwood stagecoach on Friday night?"

Annie hesitated and then smiled. "Yes. He and I were passengers during the Indian attack."

"Do you know how he came to have a black eye? I’m told Lord Fernley says he bounced into the side of the coach."

Annie’s responded immediately. "Actually he bounced into my fist. He tried to hold on to more than the seat of the coach."

Both women laughed so hard that cowboys working nearby stopped and stared. Stephen then looked at her very fashionable wristwatch.

"Annie, I must leave. I have an engagement later this afternoon. Thank-you for inviting me to the breakfast. I must say we’re quite proud of English roast beef but we would never have thought to cook it over an open fire. Well at least we haven’t cooked it that way since Elizabethan times. Who would have thought there was so much to learn from Americans? Will you join me for dinner at my club after the evening show on Tuesday? I’ll send my motorcar for you."

"Yes Stephen, I’ll join you for dinner." Stephen moved her hand down Annie’s face in a caress, quickly kissed her on the cheek and then left.

And so began Annie’s exploration of the opportunity now presented to her by Stephen. After Tuesday’s dinner there were more dinners in the Englishwoman’s very discrete club where women wore mannish clothes, drank brandy and smoked cigars. They rode in Hyde Park, made late night visits to music halls with questionable reputations and toured the many attractions of London. Leaving the fairgrounds to venture into the city was always a challenge for the young American. Noisy crowds of people, horses and vehicles jammed the narrow streets of London. The city’s wet, gloomy days and air grey with coal smoke made Annie long for the hot sun and brilliant blue sky of eastern Colorado. Without Stephen, the young American usually found herself quickly lost when she tried to travel through London’s jumble of imperial monuments, department stores, hotels and government buildings. The young woman friendship with Stephen didn’t go unnoticed by Annie’s fellow performers. A few weeks after she met the Englishwoman, Colonel Cody joined Annie at breakfast in the dining tent.

"Annie, that was a grand performance last night. I’ve never heard such cheering from the stands."

"Thank-you. The audience was wonderful."

" How are your parents doing?"

"I just received a letter from them. They’re fine. Ma is still determined to vote."

Buffalo Bill laughed. "That sounds like Sarah. You know your parents are very proud of you."

Annie looked at the showman. Where is this conversation going? "Yes, I know."

Colonel Cody cleared his throat, fidgeted in his chair and continued. "Annie you’re a grown woman and I don’t want to be sticking my nose in your private business." He paused, stared down at the table and thought of his own daughters. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with that Englishwoman, Diane Ashcroft."

The showman stroked his goatee. It was obvious to Annie he was uncomfortable. "Uhh… she strikes me as a kind of hard woman. I think she’s seen a lot of this here world. I’m afraid her interest in you might not be uhh…on the up and up."

Now it was Annie’s turn to be uncomfortable. She poked at her eggs and then looked up.

"Diane’s a good friend. I enjoy her company."

" Annie, I’ve known you since you were a little girl. I don’t want you taken advantage of by uh… that kind of woman."

Annie blushed and then looked directly into his eyes. "I’ll be fine Colonel. You don’t need to worry."

He looked at her for a few seconds before responding. Annie’s in love with that woman. I can see it in her eyes. Well there’s nothing I can do about that. Maybe she’ll come to her senses before she gets hurt too bad.

"I’m glad to hear that Annie. Say hello for me in your next letter to your ma and pa. I’ve gotta go; see you at the afternoon performance."

She watched Buffalo Bill as he walked out of the dining tent. How could he be so wrong about Stephen? Annie looked forward to being with her. She found the older woman an attractive and generous companion. The attention of this worldly woman both flattered and excited Annie. She dreamed of leaving the show and living with Stephen in London. Yes, the young woman was in love or least thought she was in love. She was too young and inexperienced to know the difference between the attentions of a seductress and a lover. The Englishwoman belonged to a fashionable set who spent their considerable leisure time at horse races, hunting, shooting and playing cards for money. Stephen took Annie to shooting parties at the country houses of her male friends and dinners at their London residences. The young blonde charmed the men. Annie’s direct manner and high spiritedness delighted them. The American was never at a loss for words and was always ready to tell a story at a moment’s notice. Annie did though wonder why the only other women present at the shooting parties and dinners always seemed to be actresses and dancers from Drury Lane. These pretty young women were obviously not the wives of Stephen’s friends. The goings-on at the country houses and London town houses quite frankly shocked Annie. The supposed gentlemen drank too much, told questionable jokes, and kissed and fondled their actresses in front of everyone! And there was Stephen matching the men drink for drink and story for story. Fortunately she never tried to kiss Annie. The American had attended formal dinners in London with Colonel Cody and knew how men of this class behaved when their wives were present. What Annie didn’t know was what the gentlemen were saying about her. They shook their heads, laughed and once again commented on Stephen’s good luck with women. Only six months ago it was an exotic French opera singer. Now the Englishwoman had snared a very attractive American indeed. As the weeks passed by, Stephen grew bolder with Annie. They shared lingering kisses in the very private rooms of her club where they dined. The Englishwoman’s hands roamed freely as the two women said their farewells at the end of an evening’s entertainment. The time for conquest was near. Stephen planned a party at her London home and invited her women friends. What is triumph without an audience? The night of the party arrived and Stephen’s driver picked up Annie at the end of the performance. Her butler met the motorcar and led the young American into the large town home off Grosvenor Square. Annie entered the drawing room where the guests, all women, were gathered and walked to the Englishwoman who was standing in a corner with a few of her friends. For the first time the blonde saw Stephen in trousers as other women in the room were also wearing. Stephen and her masculine looking friends were drinking glasses of whiskey and a few smoked cigarettes.

Their eyes met. "Annie, I’d like you to meet my friends. This is Annie Thomas, my cowgirl from America."

Stephan’s friends introduced themselves, giving her hard, appraising looks.

"Well done Stephen."

"She’s quite lovely Stephen."

"Are there more like her at the showground Stephen? Can you introduce me to a cowgirl?"

Annie forced a smile on her face. Why don’t they speak directly to me? They’re making me feel like I’m Stephen’s prize horse.

A tall woman wearing what looked to be a riding jacket asked, "Does she play the banjo?"

The group roared with laughter at the question. Annie stared at the woman, a puzzled look on her face. Why are they laughing? Are they laughing at me?

Stephen took her by the hand and explained the laughter. "Consuelo Yznaga was one of the first rich young American heiresses to cross the Atlantic. Her family was merchants and planters from Lousisana. Consuelo, now Duchess of Manchester, was well known for playing the banjo and singing minstrel songs at London social events. Needless to say she created rather a stir."

Stephen smiled and enjoyed the envious looks of her companions. But she had important matters to discuss with them and Annie’s time would come later in the night.

"Annie, we’re talking about boring matters that wouldn’t interest you. Why don’t you join the girls over there." Stephen pointed to a group of pretty young women clustered around a punch bow and then turned back to her friends.

Puzzled by Stephen’s dismissal, Annie walked away. Stephen’s friends watched her with eyes shining with excitement at the thought of their hostess’s plans that night for her cowgirl. The American joined the young women at the punch bowl and quietly observed them. She quickly realized these music hall singers and actresses were the companions of the women clustered around Stephen. They wore showy dresses appropriate for women who made their living on the stage and more makeup than would be considered appropriate for a lady. The young women drank cups of champagne punch and chattered in loud voices about shopping expeditions to Oxford Street and expensive gifts from admirers.

A short, plump brunette with a fur draped around her shoulders finally turned to Annie, "We haven’t met before. You’re new here."

Conversations ceased as the others directed their attention to Annie. Who was this pretty young blonde? Her dress was stylish yet subdued and she wore only a hint of make-up. She didn’t look like a performer.

"My name is Annie Thomas. I’m a friend of Stephen’s."

"You’re an American! How did you meet Stephen? Are you a performer?"

"I’m a performer in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. I’m a trick shot. I make fancy shots with a rifle from horseback. I met Stephen when she attended a performance."

The young Englishwomen’s faces lit up when they heard Annie was from the Wild West Show. They crowded around her eager to hear more.

"We’ve all been to the Wild West Show. We loved it. Can you introduce us to a cowboy?"

Annie laughed and then answered their many questions. Yes, she was from the West. No she never fought Indians or shot a buffalo or was in a gunfight. Yes, the show’s cowboys were very handsome. No, the cowboys did not suffer from the lack of female companionship. And on it went as Annie captivated them with her stories.

"Oh Annie, it’s been wonderful listening to your stories." Then the young performers turned from the American and whispered among themselves. A chorus member from the Royal Opera then spoke for the group,

"Annie, we like you and we can tell you’re a real lady. Stephen’s not one for romance. She likes the chase whether it’s a fox or a woman." The others solemnly nodded their heads in agreement.

There was no doubt they were warning her about Stephan. Annie felt the romance slowly draining out of her future with the older woman.

"I love her!" Annie blurted out. As unconventional as her liaison was with Stephen, what Annie wanted more than anything else was a respectable romance.

Sighs rippled through the women as they knowingly shook their heads. One of them called out, "Oh luv, Stephen’s looking for a mistress not a wife."

A mistress! That’s how Stephen viewed her, as a potential mistress! Why only women of the lowest morals were mistresses! In Denver respectable citizens talked about that type of woman in the most scornful of tones. Just because she performed with the Wild West Show didn’t mean she had the morals of a performer!

The chorus member continued, "She has an agreement with her husband…"

"Her husband! Stephen’s married?" Annie wasn’t sure if her head was spinning from the information the women shared with her or too many cups of champagne punch.

"Why yes. Her husband is Sir Bradley Ashcroft. He’s with the government and is posted to the embassy in Paris. That’s his portrait over the fireplace."

With that news, Annie was off in search of Stephen who had retired to another room with her companions. The young women stared in surprise as Annie stormed off. With a startled look on her face, the chorus member wailed to the group, "Blimey, what did I say?"

The young American walked into the study and scanned the room for Stephen. A stout woman in a dinner jacket read aloud to the group from a lecherous novel for gentlemen.

"Lady Winterbottom smiled suggestively at Mimi, the new French maid. ‘Mimi, Lord Winterbottom is away on business and won’t return for a week. Can you come to my bedroom and help me remove my corset?’

Stephen, your cowgirl has joined us."

Annie stalked over to Stephen. "We need to talk and we need to talk right now." Annie’s face was flushed and her voice shook.

"We can’t talk here. Let’s go upstairs to my bedroom. It’s private there." Stephen put her arm around the young blonde and led her out of the study. As they left, she turned and gave her friends a knowing look.

The Englishwoman’s bedroom had a masculine look to it. Large furniture made of dark mahogany filled the room. Prints of horse racing and fox hunting hung on the walls. A bed with a massive headboard dominated the room. Only an elegant vanity table with a silver brush set and perfume bottles on it hinted this was a woman’s bedroom.

Annie faced the older woman, her voice still shaking with emotion, "You’re married!"

"Yes"

"You’re married!"

"Yes, I’m married."

"You have a husband and you want me to be your mistress."

"Quite frankly Annie, at times I find your naiveté rather tiresome. My husband does not live with me. We have an agreement. As long as there is no scandal, he does not begrudge me my pursuits."

"So that’s what I am to you? A pursuit? You pursued me like you do one of those poor foxes you chase?"

"Oh Annie. Kiss me." Stephen grabbed Annie and pressed her lips against the young American’s mouth in a hard kiss. Annie could taste the whiskey on the Englishwoman’s lips.

She squirmed out of her grasp and shoved Stephen away. "No!"

Stephen grabbed for Annie again not knowing what many cowboys in the Wild West Show and Lord Fernley learned the hard way. When Annie said no, she meant no. And the end result for anyone who didn’t believe that was usually a black eye.

Annie’s fist sailed through the air.

"Owww you hit me! I can’t believe you hit me! You’ve hurt me! I need a doctor!" Stephen clamped a hand over the side of her face and staggered backwards.

Annie stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Partygoers stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs drawn by the shrieks that obviously were not ones of passion. Annie marched through them and out the front door. And with that image in her mind, the young woman finally fell asleep under the black night sky of Montana.

Chapter 5

The next day Annie and Jesse made breakfast and broke down their camp in the cold darkness of the early morning just before the sun rises. At daybreak when the last of the stars vanished, the horses were saddled and packed.

Both women shivered though they wore coats. The saddle creaked as Jesse swung up onto her horse that was mouthing its cold bit. "It always seems like it’s the coldest just before the sun comes up. By noon we’ll be complaining how hot it is."

Yesterday’s conversation marked a change in the two women’s relationship. There now was a warm companionship missing at the beginning of the trip.

"I promise I won’t complain for the rest of the trip how hot it is," laughed Annie from her horse.

"About a mile from here we’ll leave the wagon road and ride up a trail that will take us to Peep Sight Pass. From there the trail drops down into the Buffalo Lick Grasslands. I’m hoping we can reach our camping spot early this evening. We’ll be camping at an abandoned homestead with a well that still has water. It will be another long ride today. Let’s get going."

The stands of conifers became open and scattered as they climbed to Peep Sight Pass. The higher they went, the smaller and more twisted the trees became. The two women rode through granite basins carved by glaciers and dotted with small alpine lakes filled with pale green water. Jagged ridges rising hundreds of feet above them framed the landscape. Scattered mats of small yellow and pink flowers brightened the grey rock. The high country sky was a thin kind of blue that made Annie think she could see through it to the stars. Their horses carefully picked their way up the steep rocky trail as the high-pitched whistles of marmots followed their progress. After a long climb they reached the pass. From there the two riders looked down on a sea of mountains with peaks that formed waves topped by white caps of snow. The broad open grasslands of the Buffalo Lick spread to the east. They drank in the cool, bracing air at 10,000 feet.

"Oh Jesse, I could stay here all day."

"I knew you’d like the view from here." And somehow the view seemed better now that Annie was there to share it with.

After a long ride down the eastside of the Sleeping Child Mountains, they reached the grasslands. It was a vast, wide-open country that spread as far as they could see. Low rolling hills covered in short grass turned brown and dry by summer appeared to merge with the open sky at the horizon’s edge. Men who wanted nothing but the big sky over their heads, who wanted only the company of the wind rode this untamed land. The two women traveled a trail first used by Indians, then the Army and later settlers. Large prairie dog towns lay scattered along their route. The little rodents stood guard on the mounds of dirt surrounding their burrow entrances and barked warnings as the riders came closer. Jesse reined her horse to a stop. They watched as prairie dogs cautiously poked their heads out of burrows to evaluate the threat.

Jesse turned in her saddle toward Annie. "Prairie dogs exchange kisses with members of their family group. It’s a greeting and a way of determining if a prairie dog is family and friend. If the other prairie dog doesn’t return the kiss then it’s identified itself as a stranger and trespasser."

Annie’s response was quick and not particularly well thought out. "Should we be kissing?" Why did I say that? Jesse will think I’m a fool. Blushing Annie continued, " I mean like the prairie dogs to show we’re friends." I need to keep my mouth shut.

The young woman’s comment startled the guide but then she smiled, kicked her horse and the journey resumed. It was early afternoon when the crack of gunshots snapped them out of their daydreams.

Annie looked at her guide. "What’s that all about?"

"I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s trouble. I need to go see what’s happening. Stay here with the packhorse."

Jessie reached behind her, pulled a revolver in its holster from the saddlebag and buckled it around her waist. It was still the unwritten law of the West that you must go to the aid of those in trouble even at the risk of your life.

Annie then reminded the tall woman that she had a mind of her own. "No Jesse. I’m going with you. You might need help."

"Annie, it could be dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt."

"We can stay here all afternoon arguing or we can go find out if someone needs our help."

Jesse could see there was no changing her mind. She would have to hogtie Annie to make her stay. "Looks like we’re in this together. Let’s go."

They rode toward the sound of gunfire that echoed in the distance. The two women stopped at the bottom of a rise in the grasslands. They listened to the crack of rifle fire that seemed to come from the other side of the hill. Jesse got off her horse and looked at Annie. There was no uncertainty in the young woman’s face, no sign of fear. The guide saw only determination to join the fight.

"Those are real bullets. Buffalo Bill and the cowboys aren’t going to be coming to the rescue if we get in trouble."

Annie jumped off her horse and pulled her rifle from its scabbard. "I’m ready." And by her actions the young woman announced she was always ready to be at the tall woman’s side when there was trouble.

Jesse pointed to the top of the rise. "We’ll go up there and get a look at what’s happening. Keep low to the ground and your head down when we get to the top."

They crawled the last few feet and then peered down onto what was happening below them. A man with a pistol was trapped in an old buffalo wallow. Several hundred feet away, two men with rifles were slowing working their way toward the trapped man, skillfully using the terrain to conceal themselves. They alternated firing shots to keep the man in the wallow pinned down as they moved closer. A short distance behind them, another man held three horses.

Annie whispered, "Do you have any idea who those men are?"

"No. I don’t know what’s happening down there. The man in the wallow doesn’t stand a chance. They’ll pick him off with their rifles. They’re too far away for him to get a shot at them with his pistol."

"We need to even the odds."

Before the tall woman could respond, Annie brought her rifle to her shoulder and snapped off two quick shots. Jesse saw the bullets hit at the feet of the two men with rifles. They along with the trapped man looked up at them. It was plain to all the odds had suddenly changed. The two men ran back to their horses and with the third man galloped off. The man in the wallow waved at the two women.

Annie grinned at the surprise in the guide’s face. Jesse finally spoke, "That sure worked. Let’s get the horses and find out what’s going on."

The man was standing and waiting with a big smile on his face when they reached the wallow. He was tall and sturdy looking, and wore a small badge pinned to his vest.

Jesse stared at him from her horse. "Rangers are getting thicker in western Montana than fiddlers in Hell."

Forest Ranger Bob Lynchford laughed and his smile got bigger. "Glad you came along Jesse. Things weren’t looking so good for me. Nice shooting."

"It wasn’t me." Jesse nodded toward Annie. "You can thank Miss Annie Thomas formerly of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show for saving your hide."

The forest ranger smiled again and tipped his hat to Annie. "Thank-you Miss Thomas. As you’ve just seen, the real West is still plenty wild."

Jesse got off her horse and walked over to the ranger. "Bob how’d you almost get yourself shot?"

"I got a report that cattle were illegally grazing on this part of the Buffalo Lick. I rode out to investigate and got bushwhacked by William Statton, a local cattleman, and two of his cowhands. I think they would have killed me if you hadn’t shown up."

Rangers were not popular in the grasslands of Montana. Cattle had been grazing on the Buffalo Lick since the 1860’s. Ranchers fought first Indians, then gangs of rustlers and finally homesteaders to control the Buffalo Lick. For fifty years there were no rules, only bullets. Cattlemen reigned over the land like warlords with armies of hired guns. Now for the first time they had to abide by the government’s regulations if they wanted to graze on grasslands managed by the Forest Service. Fortunately only a few ranchers expressed their unhappiness with bullets.

"Why are you two ladies out here?"

As she always did, Jesse flinched at being called a lady. "I’m guiding Miss Thomas to Lost Soldier Butte. She’s writing a story for The Century Magazine on the fossil beds there. We’re going to camp tonight at the old homestead."

"I wish I could talk to you more but I need to get back to Ripley and telegraph the US Marshal for help."

Jesse looked at the ranger. "Bob, will you be alright riding back alone? Those cowboys won’t try and finish what they started?"

"I’ll be fine. I know Statton. He’s heading for his cattle as we speak. He’ll try to round them up and get them back to his range before I return with a marshal. Can you help me find my horse? I chased it off when I took cover in the wallow."

The two women found his horse a short distance away, returned it to him and then backtracked to the trail. They talked as they rode toward the homestead.

"Jesse, I didn’t realize being a forest ranger was so dangerous."

"Cattlemen don’t like the government telling them what to do. Men like Statton see it as their God given right to use the land as they see fit. Most of them are law abiding though and don’t shoot rangers to make their point."

"Are gunfights a regular part of your job?"

Jesse laughed, "No, frontier days are long gone. I can’t remember the last time I fired my pistol. I’m glad you were along. I can’t say I’m much of a sharpshooter."

Annie smiled at the compliment. "That ranger didn’t seem rattled about almost being shot."

Jesse turned in her saddle to look at Annie. "Bob’s typical of the type of man that becomes a forest ranger. The Forest Service wants men from the West who can shoot straight, handle a horse and take care themselves outdoors. Bob worked a small ranch here in Montana before he became a ranger two years ago. He passed a written Civil Service test that covered everything from livestock brands to cooking biscuits. Then he took a practical test on riding and packing a horse, shooting a rifle and a pistol, and surveying and mapping. Bob gets paid $60 a month, has to furnish his own horse and pay for its feed out of his paycheck. I’ve never known much that could rattle him."

Annie was strangely quiet for the rest of the ride. Jesse assumed the excitement of the gunfight had worn off leaving the young blonde tired and introspective. What she didn’t know was Annie’s mind was back in North Carolina. Annie was remembering what happens when no one comes to the rescue.
And Jesse thought about Annie and how the young woman demanded to ride with her to a gunfight. Annie didn’t know what she was getting into but went anyway because she thought I might need help. Now the guide knew that Annie would never let her face trouble alone, that the young woman would stay by her side whatever might come. The sun was low in the sky when they arrived at the old homestead. A small, collapsed log cabin and an equally ruined barn was all that remained of a family’s failed attempt to make a life in Montana.

"Our camp for the night." Jesse knew her riding companion would have questions about the old homestead.

The tall woman spoke as they unpacked the horses and set up camp. "A family from back east homesteaded here in the 1880’s. It took a lot of work to bring logs from the mountains to build the cabin and barn. They tried to grow wheat but were ruined by drought and grasshoppers. They abandoned the land and no one knows where they went. During frontier days, thousands of buffalo and antelope grazed on this grassland. There were grizzly bears and wolves too. The Blackfeet, Cree and Assiniboin hunted and fought here. They’re all gone. The buffalo and antelope hunted out years ago. Cattle have taken their place. The bears and wolves exterminated, and the Indians forced into reservations."

Annie thought for a minute as she rolled out her blankets. "I think that’s a sad story."

"That’s just the way things happened in Montana. Let’s get supper going. I’m hungry and I’m guessing so are you."

And once again the two women fell into the routine of camp life. Tend to the horses, lay out bedding, cook supper, clean up and prepare for the next day. They didn’t speak much to each other as they went about their work. Yet it was a comfortable kind of silence. It was the kind of silence shared by two people who don’t need words to convince each other they share a bond. Following supper Jesse read her uncle’s field notes, every now and then glancing at the young blonde as she wrote in her journal. The dark woman knew what she felt for her traveling companion was far more than desire for a very attractive woman. She could have fought desire; she could have controlled it. The tall woman thought she had accepted the loneliness of her life in Montana. Now Jesse couldn’t imagine a life anywhere without the smile, the laugh and the stories of the woman sitting a few feet from her. How could Annie have settled so quickly, so easily into her life? Jesse noticed the physical contact between them was becoming more frequent and lingering longer. Their hands would meet when they worked around the horses. They sat closer to each other as they ate. When they touched Annie would look into her guide’s eyes, shyly smile and then look away. Jesse tried to tell herself she would be content being the young blonde’s friend. But the tall woman knew she wanted to be much more than a friend to Annie. Was it just wishful thinking to believe Annie felt the same way? But Jesse knew how quickly she could steal the warmth and kindness from her traveling companion leaving behind only pain and heartbreak. That was her gift to her lovers in Paris. For Annie’s sake she must keep her distance and then say good-bye forever to the young woman when they returned to Cameron.

"Annie, I’m turning in. It’s another early start tomorrow morning. It’s a full days ride to Badger Creek where we’ll camp. There’ll be water and trees for shade. It’s about a half hour ride from the camp to the fossil beds at Lost Soldier Butte."

The tall woman then leaned over and lightly brushed Annie’s lips with hers. "Goodnight friend."

Annie could only stare in surprise as her guide stood up, moved to her own bedroll and crawled under the blankets after removing her clothes.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=401 ... ntana.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 11 ruj 2012 21:06

FBI...neriješeni slučaji...alkoholizam

HOUSE SHOPPING
By Anne Laughlin

Allison drove through the dark Lincoln Park streets. They had already seen four single family homes in the neighborhood and had been met at each house by listing agents who took them through and pointed out every conceivable feature in the well appointed properties. As they approached their last appointment, a vintage brick on a double lot that Allison warned Peg was sure to need a lot of work, Allison explained that they would not be meeting an agent this time.

"They're using a lock box on this property. From what I understand, the owners are in the process of moving out, so half of their stuff is still in the house, and the rest is in their new place in Florida. They are in Florida for the winter. I just use my magic electronic lock box thingy and in we go."

"I like that a lot better. I don't want to have to listen to another listing agent."

"Well, don't hold out much hope for the house. Unless you have the time or energy for a real project, this probably won't suit you."

"Why are you showing it to me then?"

"Listen, Toots. You've given me a thimble-full of information to go on, so don't complain about what properties I'm showing you," Allison said.

"Toots?"

"Yeah, Toots. Oh my god, there's legal parking." Allison wrenched the car into a spot in front of the quaint looking house on the quiet residential street and led the way up the stairs to the entrance. After pointing her electronic device at a lock box attached to the front door, the door to the box opened and out fell the house keys.

"My, it is magic," purred Peg.

"Honey, you have not begun to see the magic this real estate broker can perform. Now, shall we?" Allison swept into the foyer and started to turn on lights as Peg followed behind her. They spread out and began searching through the house, Allison moving quickly through the rooms and taking them in with her practiced eye. Peg moved more slowly, looking closely at the vintage details throughout the main floor.

Allison progressed up to the second level and was standing in the master bedroom, facing an expanse of flocked wallpaper and assessing the difficulty of removing it. Her thoughts quickly formed into a vivid fantasy of her and Peg dressed in t-shirts and shorts, stripping off wallpaper in long, satisfying swaths. They would frequently interrupt their work with frenzied bouts of lovemaking, after which they would lay in exhausted heaps on the paint tarp, their tangled legs dotted with bits of wallpaper and backing. This entire scenario had formed in her mind in a matter of seconds, and while it caught her off guard it also caught her up completely in the excitement of the fantasy. Allison did not hear Peg enter the room behind her, did not know of her presence in the room at all until she felt an arm wrap around her waist from behind. Peg leaned into her and murmured into her ear, "You didn't respond when I called to you just now. I was worried."

Allison stood stock still, staring wide eyed at the wall inches in front of her. She felt her heart begin to hammer and her mind cloud in confusion. More than that, she felt her body react to Peg's touch and she leaned back against Peg's tall body, her hands coming up to grasp the arms wrapped around her. "I'm responding to you now," she said.

"Hmmm," Peg hummed, as her lips found the back of Allison's neck and she began to kiss her there. Allison felt her own arms come up and brace herself against the wall in front of her as Peg's hands moved up and around and over and down and drew sensations from Allison that were almost frightening. She moaned as a hand found a breast, fingers coming together to pinch a nipple that suddenly felt huge, like a giant switch connected directly to her clitoris. Peg turned it on, and then on again, and on again. There seemed to be only on, and then more on. There was no off.

Allison turned suddenly in Peg's arms, facing her and bringing her hands up to hold the strong jaw, to look into the bright gray eyes. She leaned towards her and they met in a kiss, slow and sweet quickly turning to deep and ravishing. Allison now found herself backed up against the flocked wall, her arms held back as Peg continued to kiss her as deeply as she could. They finally broke for breath. "Oh, my god," Allison gasped, throwing her head back against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut. Peg's lips went immediately for the exposed throat, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, her hands finding Allison's breasts again and then the nipples. Allison felt like she would explode. "Peg, please."

"Please, what? What do you want baby?" Peg continued to work on Allison's right nipple as she began to unbutton her blouse.

"The bed. Please. I need you on top of me."

Peg looked behind her and saw the king bed. Taking Allison's hand she led her over and pulled her up onto the bed. As she started to push Allison onto her back Allison stopped her with a hand on her chest. She could feel Peg's heart hammering beneath her hand.

"I wasn't sure you wanted this," Allison said, looking directly into Peg's eyes. "But I've wanted you almost from the moment I saw you."

"Yes, I've wanted this. So much." Peg gently pushed her down on the bed, laying beside her, moving her hand up and down Allison's body. She began to undo the buttons of Allison's shirt, heard the intake of Allison's breath. She saw the desire in Allison's eyes and something else as well. "What is it? Am I moving too fast?"

Allison squirmed a little and then reached up and pulled Peg down on top of her. "No, it's not that. Not really. It's just that I haven't been with a woman for awhile. And I haven't been with someone new for over 12 years."

Peg lifted her head and looked into Allison's eyes. She saw uncertainty there. "Hey, I'm flattered I'm the one you've chosen to take into your bed. I'm a lucky woman."

"Well, you don't know that exactly yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that 12 years ago I had the confidence of a 35 year old. Now I have the uncertainty of a 47 year old." Allison saw that Peg looked confused. "In my body, I mean. I'm nervous about you seeing me."

Peg's face lit up in a smile. "Is that what this is? Oh, you have nothing to worry about on that score. I think you are beautiful. I can't wait to see what's under here. I can't wait to tell you how beautiful you are. Please let me," Peg said, as she resumed unbuttoning Allison's shirt. She bent her head and captured Allison's lower lip with her teeth and then moved in for a kiss deeper than anything Allison could remember. She felt herself tumble into a place where nothing could halt her desire to be totally possessed by the woman holding her, not her worry about the few extra pounds she carried, not worry about the possibility that someone else might arrive to view the house, not worry that this might mean nothing more than a fun time in bed to Peg. She felt power and desire and something that felt like need flow from Peg into her.

"Get these clothes off of me. I think I'll die if you don't touch me soon."

Peg laughed and bent to the task at hand, slowly removing Allison's clothes despite her new lover's urgency, telling her how beautiful she was as each article was removed. With her shirt and bra finally off, Peg lowered her mouth to Allison's breasts, kissing, licking, nipping the nipples, alternating between them, lavishing them with attention. By the time she knelt between Allison's legs, slowly, slowly pulling her underpants over her hips and down, Allison started to nearly thrash. "Jesus God please get in me I'm going to explode please do something now," Allison cried, her head moving side to side, her arm flung across her eyes. Peg laughed again and gently spread Allison's legs apart, moving up to lay beside her as her hand made its way up Allison's thigh, stopping when her finger lay just on top of the clit. Allison's hips immediately thrust into the hand, seeking more contact, desperate for it.

"It's okay, now. I'm going to touch you," Peg whispered, as her finger made its way between the lips, up and down, exploring the entire area. Allison's hips kept thrusting, trying to chase Peg's finger, playing tag. When her clit touched Peg's fingers, she'd be IT. What Allison needed now was a furious game of tag, back and forth between finger and clit until it was a blur, until she could mercifully come. Just as Allison was starting to feel real anger at the way Peg was withholding, Peg moved swiftly back down, placing herself between Allison's legs, bending immediately to her task, using her tongue in anything but a teasing fashion. With a few sure strokes she brought Allison right to the brink, and with a few more she sent her over, flying into the abyss where all sense and inhibition and sanity were suspended. The intense pleasure rocketed through Allison and left her up there for what seemed like a long, long time. As the waves started to subside, as she lay senseless on the bed, she felt as if she'd been dropped from a great height, from some unknown alien plane back to the known world. She opened her eyes and saw Peg right above her, smiling down. "Good lord," Allison smiled limply, "what did you do to me?"

Peg laughed and fell back on the bed beside her, gathering Allison into her arms. "I just gave a very beautiful woman some very good loving. I'm glad it agreed with you."

"Oh, it agreed with me. Who wouldn't be thrilled with a two and a half hour orgasm? I felt like I'd been put into stasis in Woody Allen's Orgasmatron."

"Okay, now you're ageing yourself. No one under 40 knows about the Orgasmatron."

They lay quietly for a few minutes, holding each other, moving their hands gently around each other. Allison lifted herself up on one elbow and peered down at Peg. "I want so much to make love to you. But we really should get out of here. I think the key is even in the lock downstairs, and I have no idea if any other brokers will show up tonight. In fact, I can't even comprehend how insane it is that we just made love here. I could probably lose my license."

"Well, I'd love to be a fly on the wall at that disciplinary hearing."

"Very funny. Come on."

The bed was straightened, clothes were put back on, and they stood in the middle of the room with the flocked wall paper. Allison placed her arms around the Peg's neck and kissed her deeply. "I don't want there to be any lies between us, whatever this is or isn't between us. I just don't want that to be a part of it. So I have to confess that I did Google you."

"Really?" Peg smiled in mock surprise.

"Oh, don't be so full of yourself mystery woman. I didn't know anything about you. You've got that butch thing going of not talking much about yourself, so what's a girl to do? I didn't want to fall into bed with an ax murderer."

"What did people do before the internet?"

"Can you be serious for a moment? I'm not too concerned that you think I'm a stalker or anything, sense you Googled me too. I just wanted you to know that while I didn't know anything really about you, I knew right away that I wanted you." She leaned in and kissed Peg with a gentleness and a passion, and Peg's arms tightened around her waist and held her as close as she could.

"I wanted you from the first as well. And I want you so much right now. Thank you for being honest with me, and thank you for wanting me."

Peg took Allison's hand and began to lead the way down the stairs of the stranger's home. The pair paused at the door of the house, turning off the last of the lights. Allison reached up and snapped up the collar of Peg's coat, kissing her on the lips and giving her a radiant smile. "Come home with me, Peg. I have some good loving to give a very beautiful woman, and I can't wait to do it."

Peg followed her out and waited as the door was locked and the key replaced in the lock box. "You know, I just may have to buy this house. It has exceptional karma, don't you think?"

"Well, clearly. I mean, it's the first thing they mention in the listing sheet." Allison linked her hand through Peg's arm as they walked toward her car.

"But the flocked wallpaper has to go," said Peg. "Would you help me with that?"

"Oh, I think that can be arranged." Allison smiled, squeezing Peg's arm. "Sounds like a fun project."

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=515 ... pping.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 12 ruj 2012 21:28

Državna odvjetnica i policajka...potraga za pravom ljubavi

The One
by bsoiree

“I don’t like hot pickles in my sandwiches.” Her voice was edged as she pulled the warm slices covered with dripping sauces out and dropped them into the bag. This was getting more than annoying. He’d done it three times in a row now, not that she liked fast food to start with. “I like pickles, but I don’t like them heated.” Kendal licked the sauce from her fingers after each pickle slice was removed, “And you know that.”

From the corner of his eye Dwayne watched with amusement as the tall brunette’s long forefinger left her mouth. Then he found it incredibly sexy. She would have been shocked at the notion. Tall and lithe with long, full brown hair, olive complexion, high cheek bones and naturally seductive brown eyes rimmed with lashes that didn’t stop, she was drop dead gorgeous but never paid her looks any particular attention. It was never foremost in her mind. She was far more interested in climbing her way up the ladder of law enforcement success. The hot evening air of summer wafted off the distant Sound into the open windows of their unmarked car as the sun set in the west. Once a small village of lumber and fishing shacks near the much larger, well-known metropolis of Seattle, Edgeway had grown and prospered until their modern sprawl melded into a seemingly unending stretch of professional and trade enterprises. The two people sat in their car hidden beside a concrete pillar in a parking structure on the row looking out, a perfect position to see but not be easily seen in the bustling city center. Kendal removed another pickle slice, tossed it in the bag, licked her fingers and glanced at the elite hotel across and down the street with its steady flow of customers coming and going. Like Seattle, Edgeway was hilly. Even in the heart of the smaller town, where the Edgeway Convention Center sat surrounded by exclusive, high-rise hotels and rooftop restaurants all within fairly easy walking distance of the other, the hills gave a little challenge to any trek. On the distant Sound ferryboats moved steadily in and out across the emerald water now streaked with sunset gold. Here in the warm comfortable air of summer, tourists filled Edgeway’s well-lit streets. Taxis lined the area near the hotel’s entrance, waiting their turn to whisk their patrons off to dinner, the not-so-distant Space Needle, a multitude of theaters, a game or a drove of other attractions shared by a string of sprawling metropolises. Three conventions were in the area, a baseball game and a very upscale downtown gallery opening. The Northwest at its finest.

“Umgh,” her pudgy partner answered, chewing his own hamburger with enjoyment before jamming a French fry in his packed mouth as well. At thirty he was four years younger and at 5’10” he was three inches shorter. And she outranked him. She always gets the damn plum jobs cause she’s a fuckin’ woman, he grumbled to himself. Probably sleeps with the boss to get “em, too. Although it was pretty generally thought around the station that she didn’t bat on that team. Though no one knew for sure.

All of this wore on the man’s nerves. Yet, if it came to it, he’d readily put his life in her hands and he knew it. Anyone at the station would. They all trusted her and as head of this newly-formed task force, she was one leader who didn’t take herself too seriously and was even noted for being fun. She’s got the others snowed, he sneered. But not me!

“Forgot,” he replied as his only defense. It had been his turn to get their dinner and it was late when they’d met up at the station. A blob of sauce from his juicy sandwich fell onto his tie and he tried to wipe it off, leaving a greasy stain. “Damn,” he muttered, licking his napkin and rubbing the spot, trying to remove the stain that way.

“Bullroar,” she groused, wondering why she put up with his constant petty jealousies. Yet she had specifically asked for him on her team, much to the complete dismay of her boss, the Captain. This man she was now paired with was noted for being belligerent, disrespectful, drinking too much and being the world’s greatest chauvinist. But he had one talent that stood out like no other in her opinion. He had a nose for hidden trouble. She’d never seen anything like it. He could mention something and the next thing you knew, that was where trouble developed.

“You didn’t forget.” She looked over from where she sat behind the wheel of their car and a slight smile played across her lips. “I know what this is about. This is because I hit a home run at last weekend’s ball game and your new little girlfriend was all impressed. That’s what it is, isn’t it? She called out “Go Kendal, go” and kissed me on the cheek and you’ve been pouting ever since.”

“Have not,” he pouted. Like many officers, he was divorced. It was a bane of the business, along with alcoholism and high suicide rates.

She jabbed him with her elbow. “Get over yourself,” she grinned and he snorted.

“What about you?”

Kendal laughed aloud and for the life of him he couldn’t help finding the soft, rumbling, dulcet tones of her throaty laugh sexy, too.

He favored her with a casual smile, “Shit, you fuckin’ broads are all alike,...” he started.

“Careful,” she advised.

“What, you gonna write me up for insubordination?” he challenged.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you were written up, would it?” she warned.

There was no further comment as their attention was drawn to a group of five or six women, obviously business women in business clothes, making their way up the hill to the hotel entrance, laughing and talking loudly. Some had their arms flung around each other and their laughter and joshing created a small stir as they passed. No one seemed offended, however. The women were too well dressed and obviously too non-threatening for that. They had been imbibing and were having a wonderful time, that was quite obvious.

“Nice,” Dwayne said, pausing from shoveling food into his mouth. “Whoee, very nice. Look at the tits on that freakin’ leggy redhead.”

“Uh uh, none of that,” Kendal cautioned again with a heavy sigh, watching the women’s group. It was downright tiresome dealing with this man, but to her mind his gift justified going to lengths normally not tolerated.

The women’s group looked like a regular assembly of office cohorts out looking for a good time, which apparently they’d found. She wondered if they were in the midst of continued bar hopping. It was still early. “Better be staying there,” she muttered. “From the shape they’re in, I’d say they’re not going to make it too many other places. Must be from one of the conventions.” They were dressed well enough to be customers of this particular classy hotel. In the group was a small blonde with shoulder-length, slightly curly hair, in a soft toned camel-colored skirted business suit and what must have been a wicked wit, for every time she spoke, they all broke into gales of laughter. She didn’t have her arms around her friends but walked backwards as she talked with them. Not an easy thing to do uphill, drunk and in heels. Someone different in the group grabbed her every few minutes to keep her from tripping. She didn’t seem to notice. Her hands moved in concert with her words. Kendal watched her in particular. She had an aire of mischievousness and despite her slick packaging, her expensive, well-tailored suit, well-coiffed hair, manicured nails, the small blonde was decidedly cute. A smile spread across the tall Lieutenant’s face just observing the woman.

“Part of the DA Convention, probably,” Dwayne said. His eyes didn’t leave the tall redhead’s chest. “Those folks can tie one on, I hear.”

“Maybe,” she replied, also watching carefully as the women laughed their way into the hotel entrance then turned quickly into the bar.

Now their attention was drawn across the steady stream of traffic on the street to the taxi stand where two drivers had gotten out and were arguing beside their cabs.

“What’s going on?” Dwayne asked.

“I think the customers got in the second taxi and not the first and the first guy is objecting,” Kendal chewed her burger. Gods, she was tired of the kind of food they ate.

The doorman slowly walked toward the cabbies frowning. He said something and they watched the two drivers reluctantly get back into their vehicles. The second cab pulled out squealing his tires into the busy traffic. His passengers sat in back. The two officers watched as the first cab driver flipped the second one the bird.

“Jeez, grow up,” Dwayne remarked to the two drivers. Obviously they couldn’t hear and Kendal grinned.

“Some guys are so competitive,” Kendal tsked, taking another bite of burger. Like at softball games, she thought wryly.

“Hey, isn’t that Johnson?” Dwayne asked. He set his unfinished burger aside and grabbed the camera. Kendal did the same and grabbed the binoculars.

Their attention had moved to the man in the white suit at the entrance to the hotel and the soft click of the camera caught him in several poses. He was their prime suspect. The reason they were there. This man was suspected of being heavily involved in running drugs up and down the west coast. Kendal had stumbled on his name accidentally and only once. He’d initially been connected with ownership of a small fleet of tug boats that worked in the Pacific with large tankers. But the more she dug, the more often he began to show up in unusual places with unusual connections. He was standing at the door waiting. They glanced in the direction he was watching and saw a young couple heading toward the entrance. They knew the couple. He held the door and let them in, then they saw the small group head the same direction the women had, to the bar. It was imperative that they know everyone that he was meeting.

“I’ll go check it out,” Kendal said. She used a hand wipe to whisk the burger scent off her hands, reached up and turned the overhead light off before the door triggered it and opened the car door. She adjusted her stylish navy jacket and reached for her purse, which she normally didn’t carry. It had next to nothing inside. Her jacket was well cut and did not show her sleekly designed shoulder holster molded to her figure or the new issue handcuffs that she carried in her belt to the side in the back of the matching, well-tailored suited trousers. A white camisole top showed deep, olive tan, a tan she never had to work hard to get, above her soft swell of bustline. This outfit did not come off any store rack.

She pulled her hair back, hoping it would make her look more like the average tourist. She pulled out a pair of wire-framed glasses and slipped them on. The glass had no correction. She patted her pocket where her badge resided and Dwayne let his eyes do a quick once-over. She was a beauty. But she was not to look like an officer or be too noticeable. Her pantsuit looked expensive, more expensive than most police officers could afford. She had purposely chosen it for this assignment.

“Lookin’ good,” he gave a thumbs up, “good and sexy,” he leered. She scowled, shut the door and headed toward the busy street in long, powerful strides. She purposely slowed her pace as she moved all the way down to cross at the light with the crowd at the far end of the street, wanting to blend in with the tourists. She avoided the doorman’s eyes as she entered and turned for the bar.

“There! I tole ya’all she’d show up. Ladies, that is what “The One” looks like.” The blonde’s drunken drawl settled over her group as Kendal entered the room. A modicum of merriment and appreciation arose from the women’s table and all her companions’ eyes tried to focus on the tall, scholarly-looking brunette crossing to the bar.

Kendal spared them only a quick glance as her eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting. She moved to the end of the bar near a post and ordered a drink. The bartender took her ten and went to get her drink. The brunette knew where the suspects were and was able to glimpse who they were now talking to. Another man had joined their group and they didn’t have his identity. Who was this fellow? She knew all the players and he hadn’t shown up before. She tried to gather as much information in a short glance as she could. Middle aged, bald, light hair, round face, ruddy complexion, maybe five ten--hard to tell sitting down, about one eighty, expensive dark silk suit but seemed uncomfortable in dress shoes. He kept lifting one foot as he sat to rub at his toes. Suddenly she saw the small blonde weaving her way towards her. Gods, she thought, don’t draw attention to me. She looked away. Her drink appeared and she took a quick sip. She carefully kept her eyes off the suspects as attention in the room began to settle on the small blonde who was having a little difficulty maneuvering.

“Whoa,” the woman laughed, grabbing an empty chair to balance herself. The refined blonde headed directly for where Kendal was seated. The small woman’s camel-colored suit jacket was unbuttoned and a hint of her firm, well-shaped breasts held snugly in a white lace bra were evident beneath the top button of her lighter, camel-toned satin blouse. Her clothing was designed to make the highlights in her blonde hair and the blueness of her eyes stand out and they did, Kendal had noted briefly as the woman approached. She was a small beauty. Just Kendal’s type. The Lieutenant’s attention went to her drink. She ran a long digit slowly around the rim.

The manicured fingers of both the blonde’s hands began to lightly drum on the flat midriff section of her blouse as she stood directly next to the tall brunette. Kendal did not look. There was a healthy athleticism to the blonde’s small toned build that was not necessarily noticeable in the soft curves from afar. Kendal could smell a faint, powdery scent of expensive perfume. She tried not to look at the woman.

The blonde’s alcohol dazed eyes fluttered then slid over the tall woman on the bar stool as a “cat that swallowed the canary’ look swept over the small drunken woman’s face. She touched the tall beauty on the arm before tilting her head. “You’re The One,” she smiled drunkenly. There was a great deal of tease, even challenge, in her tone.

Kendal could see her make-up was flawlessly understated and soft freckles stood out on her smooth skin. She was definitely cute, but there was something flickering in her eyes, something below the surface, something wilder, maybe. She certainly was the type to take a dare, which Kendal thought this probably was. That also appealed to the tall brunette.

“I am?” deep brown eyes settled on the blonde.

“Yes, you’re The One,” the blonde repeated with certainty. Her slight drawl was not completely unnoticeable. “We’re talkin’ “bout one day makin’ n’ honest women a’ me an’..” Then her brow furrowed momentarily, “Uh, seems like when a lady talks ta fellas in the movies she says,” here the blonde dropped her voice a note, “”one day yer gonna father mah children.’” She giggled, “But, uh,” she ran a hand through her blonde hair then the edges of her mouth tweaked. She giggled again, “doesn’t seem to work zactly right here, ya know?” She giggled once more. “Bi-go-logic-shally impossible,” she slurred and returned one hand to Kendal’s arm to steady herself. Kendal was very aware of this beautiful woman’s hand on her arm.

She wanted to glance at the suspects, but feared they were watching. She kept her eyes on the blonde. “Then you don’t have children?” Kendal asked, wondering how many drinks this woman had had before submitting to this dare. She was wearing no rings and was definitely a captivatingly alluring woman. Not the type, she’d guess, that was used to approaching unknown women in bars. In some other time and place Kendal would not let this chance slip away. But not while she was observing suspects.

The brunette watched the softly swaying, smiling figure beside her and felt her body respond unintentionally to her. How long had it been since she’d responded to a woman’s touch? Too long, apparently.

“No,” the woman slurred, “Genevieve there says “Show us the candidates. The clock’s a’tickin’...’” She threw a look back at her group, apparently to Genevieve. Then she turned back and waggled her brows. “Get it?” She was feeling no pain and looked quite comical waggling her brows. It was all Kendal could do to keep from laughing out loud. This poor gal was going to hate herself in the morning. The ladies at the blonde’s table went into giggling fits at their companion’s waggling brows.

“I see. And how do you know I’m of the, uh, right mindset to be a candidate?” she asked. Kendal was not out at work. She’d found no reason to be. But she harbored no deep-seated trauma at the prospect. It was just easier all around keeping her private life private.

“Oh,” the small woman looked coy. Her eye’s swept Kendal’s long form “It would be a cryin’ shame if you weren’t. But if you’re not, I heartily apologize and pray Ah haven’t insulted you any. Have I?” Her head tilted to the side.

“No, not at all,” Kendal chuckled and reached a hand out for the change the bartender was giving her. She leaned forward and purred in the blonde’s ear, “But I don’t have the equipment to beat the clock. Sorry.” She enjoyed the way the blonde’s eyes shut as she spoke then opened as she finished.

The blonde looked at Kendal with a puzzled gaze. Kendal could see she was thinking about that. The brunette shot a quick glance at the suspects. They were watching. She decided it was better to leave before they became too familiar with what she looked like. She stood and inched to the side behind the post, just out of their view and looked downward at the blonde who was a good head shorter than herself.

“My, you’re tall,” the blonde said looking up, her mind diverted. “How tall are ya?”

“Six one,” Kendal replied softly.

Another of the women from her group had headed over and now grabbed the blonde’s arm. “C’mon, ya old lush. Quit bothering this poor lady.”

“Who ya callin’ a lush, Phyliss Ann? I object, yer honor. Bar her from the court.” Then she chuckled, “Or court her from the bar. I like that better.” She flashed a silly grin at her cohorts then looked back to see the tall woman readying to leave. “Hey, don’t leave yet,” the small blonde said to Kendal. “We gotta talk. I just found ya.”

“Sorry, lady,” Phyliss Ann grinned, dragging the blonde away. “She’s had a bit too much of the old sauce.”

From behind the post Kendal took another quick drink of her plain coke. She was unseen at the suspects’ table but she could still see the blonde.

“You’re The One,” the blonde cheerfully said again, pointing at Kendal as she walked backwards while her friend dragged her back to their table.

“Your head’s gonna explode tomorrow, Savannah,” Phyliss Ann laughed, “You’re sure shit faced tonight.” She glanced at the tall brunette who had thrown a tip down and was now stuffing the change in her pocket, “Hope she didn’t bother you,” she called softly. It was obvious the tall woman’s drink had not been finished.

Kendal muttered, “No, that’s all right.” She took another quick drink and let her eyes sweep the room. People had gone back to their own conversations including the suspects. But they’d noticed her and that was not good. She stepped from behind the post, leaving a half-finished drink and moved out.

Outside she hurriedly stepped into the busy street, stopping to let a line of cars pass in each of the lanes before she made her way across, muttering about her stupid luck. She gave Dwayne the description of the man who’d been meeting the suspects inside and he entered it in their electronic files and started a quick search. With only a description, there was little hope of an identification and they got none. Then she sighed heavily as she shifted into the seat, “They spotted me in the bar.”

He looked at her strangely. For someone as good looking and tall as she was, she was quite skilled at staying to the sidelines. He’d bet anything that she was rarely spotted. “They saw your gun?” he asked. Sometimes if you forgot and left your jacket unbuttoned that happened.

She winced, “No. One of the drunk ladies from the group came up to me to flirt and everyone watched. Crud, there’s a chance they’ll know we’ve made them if they see me again, depending on what I’m doing. But we need to find out who that fellow was.”

“Well, fuck,” Dwayne grumbled, flashing her a look of annoyance, “they even friggin’ flirt with ya when ya don’t want “em to.”

“I know,” she remarked, deep in thought. The fact that she was so casual about knowing made him even more annoyed on the subject. He had to work to get every one of his dates. Her admirers, male or female, fell in her lap. Not that she went out all that much as far as anyone at the station knew.

Still, it was a point of contention with him. All his girlfriends asked about Kendal once they’d met her and it wasn’t always because they were jealous that he worked with such a beauty. Some of them found her entirely too attractive, more attractive by far than him. He looked at her but suspected she was going over the factors in the case. As far as he could tell, she was never fazed with the personal stuff.

“Okay,” she said, “we know our prime suspect is staying at that hotel.” She licked her lips, “Maybe the other guy is, too. We know the couple is his niece and her boyfriend, who works on one of the tankers. We’ve seen them before. We’ll just wait. If the other guy comes out, we’ll get a shot of him. If he doesn’t come out, we’ll check with the desk once business slows down and see what we can find out.”

“Yeah,” Dwayne stuck more fries in his mouth.

“I want that young couple followed, too. Stasler’s “sposed to be on that.”

“He is. Saw him drive by a bit ago.”

Kendal jammed what was left of her dinner in the sack. She couldn’t eat any more. She’d eaten enough to forget her hunger. What was not forgotten, however, was the small blonde and her declaration that Kendal was The One. She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of the petite woman. She was going to be one sick puppy the next day when the alcohol began to want to pound its way out of her head. She might even be worshipping at the porcelain goddess all night. And she’d for sure feel like a first-class fool when she sobered up. She didn’t envy the blonde any of that. “Been there, done that,” she mumbled, thinking of her long-gone college days. “Never again.”

Dwayne looked over at her but didn’t ask what she’d said.

She settled back in the seat and tossed the bag with the rest of her dinner into the back seat. She might as well get comfortable. It could be a long wait and night had firmly settled over the city now. They’d be viewing everything by city lights. Even though she headed this group and could have stayed in the office, she felt it was important that she keep her finger on the pulse of what was happening. It was her initial discovery that facilitated the group in the first place. She wanted the edge that being out there gave her. Surprisingly, before long they saw the young couple leave the hotel. They both sat up at that. Before they’d always stayed with the Uncle. Dwayne got some pictures. And they waited. Through the lobby windows they saw the group of women stagger from the bar and head to the elevators. Looked like it was going to be lights out for them at this point. Kendal hoped the blonde was staying with one of the others or that the other women would be sure and walk her to her room. She was pretty vulnerable seeing how drunk she was.

“Hey, aren’t those the same two cabbies?” Dwayne asked. They moved their eyes to the line of cabs. Dwayne picked up his camera and adjusted the telephoto lens. “Looks like they’re both back. I don’t know. Somethin’s damn hinkey with those two.”

“Looks like it’s them, all right,” Kendal agreed, moving her binoculars that way. The lights from the hotel and the streetlights did a good job of illuminating the area. She let her eyes run over the two men. They were standing outside their cabs saying things to each other again and it didn’t look any too friendly. “Where’s a patrol car when you need one?” she muttered. “Crud, even Stasler’s gone.” Then she noted, “And there’s Johnson.” Through the glass doors they could see him stop at the desk then head to the elevators. The ladies were gone. “But where’s the other guy?”

They both kept intense watch on the lobby. Then she saw the mystery man heading toward the hotel entrance doors. “There he is. That’s him, Dwayne. See the man with the bald head?”

“Got him,” Dwayne’s camera began to click away as the man paused before moving the rest of the way out the door. The fellow jaywalked across the busy street as Kendal had done, headed to the parking garage they were in. “Shit, he’s coming here,” Dwayne said, pressing back into the seat. But they were in a darkened area away from what few lights there were in the parking garage and they weren’t likely to be spotted. He got some very clear pictures of the man’s face by streetlight before the fellow turned and went to the other side of this floor to where his car was parked.

Kendal stuck her head out the open car window and listened. “He’s headed to the northeast corner,” she whispered, “Get his license number, if you can. He’s probably going out the back way.”

Dwayne was amazed at the woman’s hearing. He swore she could hear a raindrop fall into the ocean. He reached up to the dome light but she stopped him. “I already turned it off.” She was whispering so that sounds did not carry on the warm summer air inside the parking garage. He heard the slight “brrr’ of her window as it rolled up. His was still down. He slipped out the door and pressed it shut with a soft click.

She glanced back at the hotel. “Wait!” There was alarm in her voiced whisper. “What’s that cabby doing?” They both drew their attention to the drivers outside the hotel. The two cabbies were still outside their cabs. One was standing, turned, talking to a third driver in his cab and motioning angrily while the other was approaching behind him, something in his outstretched hand. She lifted the binoculars. “Mother of Mary, I think it’s a gun!” she exclaimed. “Where’s the patrol?” She checked the area, her hand on the doorknob.

“Well, fuck! I gotta go if I’m gonna get our suspect’s license,” Dwayne said. He could hear his window rising. “Looks like you’re gonna hafta handle that one, Boss.” He tapped the roof of the car lightly and grinned with something closely akin to delight, “I’ll call it in. Got your phone?” Without waiting for an answer he disappeared into the shadows.

“Yeah, you just don’t wanna hafta deal with this,” Kendal slid out of the car, shutting the door quietly. She automatically felt for the phone in her pocket. “Got it.” She looked once more toward the cabs but there was not a patrol car in sight. The first cabby had turned and backed away, aware now of the danger. She was sure they wouldn’t hear above the traffic if she shouted.

“Damn,” she muttered racing out to dodge her way through the quickly moving traffic to cross the street, “Looks like I drew the short straw.” She tried to keep track of the action unfolding at the cab stand, but had to divert her eyes to make sure reluctant traffic stopped for her.

Dwayne hastened toward the back of the garage at a crouch, his camera in hand. The mystery man started up his car and headed to the back exit. He did not hear the two popping noises that got everyone else’s attention. Nor did he see the man in the shadows with the camera snapping his car’s picture. The first cab driver sank to the ground while the other looked around quickly. He put the gun in his pocket and started running for the hotel side entrance. In frustration Kendal slammed her hand on a car’s hood, one that had not really wanted to stop for her, as she finally made it through the traffic to get there, then approached the hotel on the run.

“The stairway,” the doorman called to her, recognizing her from her days as a street cop. The stairway emptied into the lobby. Why would he go up? she wondered, unless he’s just panicked. The shooting didn’t look planned. Course, he could try and grab a hostage. That’s a horrible thought. Or shoot someone else. But hiding in a room wouldn’t help him. We could check every room if we had to. She tore for the stairway door. She was glad their prime suspect was no longer waiting for an elevator. He’d most likely gone to his room. With any luck, she wouldn’t run into him and he wouldn’t see her.

The minute she’d entered the stairwell she had heard the man’s foot falls echoing as he quickly pounded up the stairs above her. She could hear his heavy breathing. She headed behind him at as fast a pace as she could. She utilized a daily workout program and was in pretty good shape. He was not likely to be as well off, but he was armed and dangerous and adrenaline could push you to heights you’d never imagine possible. If it comes to that, I’m armed and dangerous, too, she decided.
She knew there were at least fifteen floors in this building. She didn’t think he was in good enough shape for even half that. She hoped not. She also knew why Dwayne wasn’t the one doing this. He wouldn’t have made it up five floors without calling an ambulance for himself. She was gaining on the cabby as she passed level four and had plans to reach him by the sixth floor. Now if everyone just stayed out of the stairwell. She unbuttoned her jacket as she ran. She was sweating and the bizarre thought occurred to her that she was ruining one of her very best suits. Her blouse, for sure. She heard the sirens and knew from the sounds it was both the ambulance and the police. Dwayne had called it in. Good job, Dwayne, she was panting now, Next time, you chase, though.

She was rounding the corner heading up five and could see the cabby’s legs moving toward six. He was slowing. Suddenly his wheezing torso leaned over the rail and his gun appeared. He was younger than she’d thought. “Stay back, or I’ll shoot,” he rasped. She jumped back and quickly pulled her gun. “Stop! Police!” she warned. “Stay where you are!”

His torso disappeared and he turned on six, fear of pursuit urging him upward more quickly. He had to be wondering how he’d gotten so unlucky as to have a police officer on his trail so soon. She pushed herself now and climbed two stairs at a time, knowing that subduing him would be the tricky part. She could hear his labored breathing but was forced to stay back half a flight for protection since he was turning back her way often now.

She called to him again, “Police! Stop where you are! Police!” Ignoring her, he passed six and headed to seven. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and his shaggy hair was stuck to his head. She had to get him before he decided to enter one of the floors. The risk of guests being there was much greater than in the stairwell.

She saw him pause and reach for the handle to the seventh floor door. She turned the corner landing and pointed her gun with both hands in a police stance. “Stop where you are,” she called between heavy breaths. He was gasping, his whiskered mouth open full, but he whipped his gun her direction and dove for the stairs going up. Then he turned his back and moved up as fast as he could. Damn! She didn’t want to shoot him in the back. She followed, consciously aware of the danger of his gun. He was going to get into one of the halls. Probably the next. She had to stop him here. She’d been lucky that no guests had been in the stairway but her luck couldn’t hold forever. Still she was very reluctant to shoot in such an enclosed but ultimately public space. No telling where a ricocheting bullet would end in a tubed area like this. Everything she knew whispered to her to hold fire, check for options first. She could hear noises in the stairwell below them and knew it was probably the police. However, it might not be. She had to be ready for anything. As he passed the halfway point towards eight, he had slowed considerably. She quickened her pace, staying crouched and climbed behind him, staying below the rail. He was audibly gasping now, one hand on his chest. Closing rapidly, she made the instantaneous decision and sprang around the turn toward him as he strained upward for eight. She saw him turning his gun her way, and all time seemed to stop. She saw the chrome automatic and tracked where the muzzle was going as her body moved through the air. She was beyond the cusp of choice. Once she had thrown herself at him, she gave up having the drop on the man. Her free hand wrapped around his ankle as she watched the barrel of his gun steadily walk towards her. There was fear on his face as he squeezed the trigger. She yanked, throwing him off balance and time again flew. His shot was wide, not missing her by much but taking a chink out of the concrete stair by her foot and ricocheting around the well. Automatically she yanked again with all her considerable might and the husky man began to tumble down the stairs feet first toward her. She chopped his hand as he neared before he could manage to fire again and the gun flew clattering away. In seconds she had stopped his fall with her knee and had her new issue plastic handcuffs out. Then she was cuffing the gasping man to the rail. Both of them were doing a good job of sucking air, he much worse off than she. She stopped to bend over to get her breath as he lay back on the stairs, his chest heaving dramatically.

She kicked the fallen gun out of the way and heard the officers directly behind her. “Hands up, police!” the first officer called, his gun in both hands trained on her. “Don’t move!”

“I’m police, I’m police!” she called to him as she kept her hand with the gun in the air and slowly lifted her wallet from her pocket with forefinger and thumb of the other hand. She flicked it open to show her gold shield. A swarm of officers were panting up the stairs behind him.

“You got him, Lieutenant Deetrie,” one of the trailing officers called. “You ran him down!” The woman officer looked at her admiringly and spoke between her own deep breaths. “Great work, jees.” All the officers with her were also breathing heavily.

“Yeah, but I’m undercover here,” she frowned, now blowing out small concentrated puffs with each exhale. “You guys take over. I’ll file my statement at the station.” She quickly brushed some of the dirt from the stairs off her suit.

“You got it,” the officer replied. Kendal looked down at the perp. He was sucking in air as hard as he could, wheezing, and his face was agonized. She wondered if they’d have to take him to the hospital before jail. She could hear people opening stairwell doors on different floors, drawn by the noises. She had to get out of there before she was spotted.

She took giant strides and hurriedly pulled open the heavy door. She stepped into the plushly carpeted hall, glad that no one on eight had been curious enough to chase the sound of the gunshot into the stairway. She leaned back for a minute against the door, calming her breathing while she holstered her gun. Shoulder holsters fit women better than men, generally, because of the natural slope of a woman along the rib cage and hers was such a perfect fit that it seemed to flow around her curves. You simply could not tell she had it on. But, of course, she had to wear a jacket to hide it. In this suit, her jacket was also designed to make her gun unnoticeable. The cut was perfect and the fabric flowed flawlessly. She slipped her badge wallet into her pocket and brushed more dust off her pants. She wiped her forehead, buttoned her jacket, took one last deep breath and forced herself to stroll the hall with even breaths. If their suspect came out, she hoped she’d look like she was a guest who belonged on this floor. Breathing more easily, she headed to the elevator. A couple was already there waiting. She joined them, climbing in when the down car stopped. It passed seven then six but stopped on five. When the door opened, there was the blonde holding her room’s empty ice tub with an inquisitive look on her face as she pounded on the elevator button. She was definitely three sheets to the wind. “Where’s the ice machine?” she asked with a giggle. The couple stepped back.

“Uh, down the other end of the hall,” the man said, pointing. The blonde then noticed the tall brunette.

“Well, haaaaay. It’s you. Did I tell ya, yer The One? You’re gonna fath...”

“I’ll show her,” Kendal said and stepped off the elevator. She grabbed the blonde’s arm and turned her the other way. She heard the elevator doors shut behind them.

Fire flashed in blue eyes. “Hey!” the blonde frowned and yanked her arm away. “Don’tcha get rough with me. I’m warnin’ ya. I don’t put up with that...” her voice was sharp with caution and admonition, “...schtuff.” Then she giggled.

How could she change gears like that? Kendal mused. Must be the alcohol. She also wondered what in the world the small woman thought she might do if someone did have violent intentions toward her. She was light enough to throw over one’s shoulder and so intoxicated that she could barely stand. She’d left her heels somewhere because now she was in her stocking feet and was shorter still. She most likely didn’t have any idea of how to fend off any kind of attack, yet Kendal didn’t see her as completely helpless either. Enough, though, to be cautious.

Blue eyes looked up at Kendal as they walked, “My bi-go-logican clock is ticking,” she said almost shyly, unaware she had stumbled over the word “biological”. She spoke as if they’d been close friends forever.

Now that they were alone Kendal wanted to ask exactly what this woman had in mind for her. The small blonde had certainly been more than forward and flirtatious, but she’d also been more than slightly under the influence and that spoke of getting her back to her room, safely tucked in and nothing more. Still, what a fascinating dichotomy of elegance and cuteness, poise and shyness, sensuality and the girl-next-door simplicity she was. Kendal was considerably intrigued.

“Tick tock, tick tock,” the blonde continued. She sighed heavily, “Gotta hurry.” She stopped, put a hand on Kendal’s arm and looked up with great earnestness, “I’m thirty three.”

Kendal had to work at not laughing. Gods, this woman was cute. “Uh, why do you need ice?” she asked softly as the woman removed her arm and they again started down the hall toward the room that held the ice machine. Even intoxicated the small blonde moved her body with a natural almost animal grace. Kendal’s mind registered the perfection of the petite body beside her and wondered how many years of dance she’d taken to move that well when drunk.

“Why, for a drink, of course,” the woman replied. “Could I interest you in a drink?”

“Maybe you should have some coffee,” Kendal suggested.

“Coffee?” the blonde laughed derisively then sobered instantly. She stopped and grabbed Kendal’s arm, peering at her with great concern, “I’m sorry. I din’t mean ta be implite. They have better coffee here than anywhere I’ve ever been in my whooole life.” She swayed for a minute, “But I doan wan any coffee right now.” Now she perked up, “A drink, that’s what I need. How about you? Wanna drink?” She dropped her arm and started busily down the hall again without waiting for a reply.

“All right,” Kendal said, trailing after her. “Do you know where your room is?” They were almost to the ice machine.

“My room?” the woman stopped again. “Uh, where is my room?” She began to look around. Her free hand came up to tap its fingers lightly on her flat midriff as she thought.

“Do you have a key card?” Kendal asked. Maybe the room number was on that.

“Uh, do I have a key card?” the small woman parroted. She tried to put her fingers in her decorative jacket pocket but the pocket was only for show. Then she laughed. “Do YOU have a key card?”

“No. I don’t have anything to drink in my room.”

“Oh, are you here for the DA convention, too?”

“Here I am,” Kendal fudged. “So, where’s your room?”

The blonde looked around puzzled. “Why are we in this hall? My room’s not this way,” she stood wavering, looking up and down the hall as she tilted from side to side, one hand softly tapping on her midriff. She stopped. “My shoes,” she said.

“Yes, you have no shoes on,” Kendal replied looking again at the nylons on the woman’s small feet. Dear heavens, Kendal thought, trying to get a drunk back to their room is not an easy proposition. Then the small woman started off again away from the ice machine back the way they’d come.

“All right. You lead, I’ll follow,” Kendal muttered, following behind, her eyes flickering over the enchanting form of the petite woman before her.

They moved back to the elevators and stopped so the small blonde could look around again. Then she laughed. “My shoes,” she stated proudly.

Kendal looked down the main hall and saw the end of a heel sticking out into the hall. Apparently it was keeping the door ajar. She led the small blonde down that way toward room 5114.

“I’m tired,” the small blonde said as they headed to her room.

“You probably are,” Kendal said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“Yes,” the blonde replied. “I had a wonnnndddderful time.” They got to the room and she stooped to pick up her shoe. Kendal put a hand on the door to stop it from closing as the blonde examined the shoe. “Yep, it’s mine.” She stuck it in the empty ice bucket and they entered the room.

As they moved inside Kendal could see that it housed two women. Each queen sized bed had a suitcase on it and clothes were strewn about the room, some in a size too large for the small blonde. “Where’s your room partner?”

The small blonde put the bucket with the shoe on the end of the bed and looked back at her. “She had a hot date,” she laughed then grabbed Kendal by the lapels of her jacket as the slowly shutting room door clicked shut behind them. “Kiss me,” she demanded as her forearms inadvertently brushed against the taller woman’s breasts, causing Kendal to take a swift intake of breath. Even inside her jacket she could feel her nipples harden. The blonde’s arms stretched up to go around Kendal’s neck and into her hair to pull her head down.

“Uh,” Kendal looked down into the blonde’s half-mast blue eyes, closing as the woman rose on her tiptoes, her soft pink lips moving upward, a flush of desire in her cheeks. Was it wise to argue with this woman? No, Kendal decided, she was too drunk. Besides, what was the harm? A quick peck.

Kendal’s arms moved around the smaller woman’s waist and she leaned down. Once their lips touched, the small blonde pressed her body against the brunette’s with a sensual energy that made Kendal gasp. She was more than aware that silky breasts, tight midriff and firm thigh were taunting her body. As graceful as a cat with its prey the small woman managed to dislodge them from their standing position, pulling backward just enough for them to lose balance and tumble onto the bed, Kendal on top. Savannah moaned deeply, her hands on either side of Kendal’s face. The blonde’s searching tongue entered Kendal’s mouth again, this time building a white-hot fire at the same time that her hands moved further into the tall brunette’s hair, grabbing handsful and forcing the brunette’s mouth into the full passion of this kiss. As the slowly writhing body below her moved, forcing a thigh against Kendal’s crotch, the brunette could hear herself joining in the moaning. The blonde was twisting, pressing and demanding and began sucking Kendal’s tongue till perspiration broke out all over the tall brunette’s body and a ferocious hunger rocked her hips, instantly igniting a fiery, passionate blaze throughout the tall woman’s body. Gods! Every cell to her core became alert with a devouring ache. Sweet Jesus! she couldn’t believe the instant height of her arousal. She tried to free her hands that were pinned under the small blonde’s body. She’d never been kissed like this in her life. Kendal’s eyes sprung wide open as she tried to wrestle free, but the small woman didn’t stop.

Finally the blonde had to breathe. She released her hold and let her head fall back to the covers with the sexiest look on her face. “Oh yeah,” she grinned, blue eyes making contact with brown, “you’re The One all right.” A pleased countenance wrapped itself across the blonde’s face. “You smell like sweat,” she intimated. “I like that in sex, don’t you?”.” She shut her eyes.

Kendal pushed aside her shock and scrambled to get off the bed, vaulting upright with a force she didn’t know she had. As though she had been burned, she moved several quick steps away from the bed. Then she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. “Uh, ‘scuse me a minute.” She pulled out her phone.

One blue eye opened. “Who is it? Is it for me?”

“No, probably my mother,” Kendal said and turned her back while she flipped open the phone. “Hello, Mother?” she said, still feeling the fiery humm in her body and barely controlling the tremor in her voice.

“Where the fuck are ya?” Dwayne grumbled. “Christ, they said you weren’t hit or nothin’. I had to stand here and listen to “em blow air out their butts about your marvelous pursuit and all that shit. You’d think they’d never seen a damn cop chase someone before. Hell, they’ve nearly got the whole fuckin’ thing cleaned up down here already. What’s the holdup?”

“Yes, I’ll pick you up some stool softener,” she replied evenly. “I’m sure you’ll be regular soon. Don’t worry.”

“What? What in the fuck are you talkin’ about? Regular what? Shit, we need to get a move on. Where the hell are ya?”

“Yes, that’s what I understand it does. Uh huh. I, uh,” she glanced at the blonde who now had both eyes closed, “got held up.” She turned her back to the blonde again. “Soon, all right? Very soon.”

“Just one thing,” Dwayne warned, “Johnson’s out with the freakin’ crowd. You’d better avoid the goddam front entrance. I got the license number. Now THAT took skill. Dammit all, I thought you’d wanna hurry and check it out.”

“Yes, that would be correct.”

“Wait! Did you call me a mother fucker when you answered?” he asked suspiciously, “Is that what you said to me?”

“No, I most certainly did not. Should I have?”

“What? No! What in the hell’s goin’ on? I’m down here in the fuckin’ car waitin’ and you’re in there doin’ what? Gettin’ more babes ta drop at yer fuckin’ feet or some damn thing I suppose?”

Kendal took a quick glance at the small blonde. Her chest was moving rhythmically up and down. “Soon, uh, next street down the hill,” she replied, thinking of the crowd in front. She wanted to avoid Johnson.

“You want me to drive to the back street?”

“Yes. And wait. Soon.”

“Well, why in the fuck didn’t you say so? Shit, I wouldn’t a been down here wastin’ my fuckin’ time waitin’. Honest to Pete, you god-damned fuckin’ women don’t know your asses from...”

“Careful!” Kendal closed the phone and slipped it into her pocket. Yes, she was going to have to do something about Dwayne.

She turned to face the blonde. “I’m sorry I have to run, but...” she looked at the smile on the blonde’s face then heard the soft sound of a snore. She stood and stared. The blonde was sound asleep. She looked around for an extra blanket and put it over the small woman.

“Are you sure I’m the one?” she whispered, “cause I seem to put you to sleep.” She planted a light kiss on the blonde’s forehead. This demon of a kisser looked so sweet and innocent in sleep. Without thinking, Kendal brushed a wisp of blond hair off her forehead. A thoroughly angelic look blessed the sleeping features, which was totally contrary to the distress this small whirlwind had caused throughout the tall woman’s body. You don’t seem to put ME to sleep, though, do you? she noted as the unreleased, awakened hum remained surging within her. It had been a good long time since she’d had to deal with that kind of persistent throbbing.

Kendal had wined and dined and discretely slept with her share of women over the years. But her outrageous hours as a policewoman and even her hours at the FBI Academy seemed to eliminate any chance of a serious encounter of longer duration. Although there had been the tall, thin blonde Swedish girl at the Academy that might have developed into something more serious. Once their assignments took them in different directions, however, they’d lost track of each other. She looked to the gentle, even breathing of the sleeping blonde. This was a woman she could definitely go for. She heard another soft snore and stifled a chuckle as she quietly flicked the light out and left the room. It was a surprisingly lonely feeling walking away from the small whirlwind. But Dwayne’s waiting car would be in the back street and she had work to do and mysteries to solve. It was very late by the time she’d filed her report regarding the arrest of the cabby and the shot that was fired. Anytime a shot was fired, the paperwork and scrutiny increased immensely. And it certainly put an extra twist of interference they didn’t need into their own case. She groaned at the extra work. During the wee hours of the morning Kendal thought of the small blonde again as she finally put her head on her pillow. She hoped the woman’s hangover wasn’t too bad. Then she thought of the kiss. That kiss had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She wondered just how much of a wild cat this little blonde was. She could see there could be benefits to being The One for the lovely blonde Savannah.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=513 ... heone.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 13 ruj 2012 22:49

priča o djevojčici koja odrasta u obitelji koja ju je pronašla nakon havarije broda..prva ljubav... potraga za gusarima

~ Finding yourself ~
by Bacchuskiller

Somewhere in the Atlantic, Summer, 1754

The wind blew steady over the open sea, causing the great ship The Bellany to progress fast. It was a peaceful day. Only the sounds of waves crashing against the wooden hull were heard, as a bright sun stood high in the sky. Sometimes, the sound of a child's laugh would be heard in the wind. Strange, you might think? Not on The Bellany, where eight year old Nerissa Bellany sat on the railing watching the waves.

"Careful, Nerissa," a big scruffy looking man told the girl. The child giggled. "I am careful, James … I won't fall," James sighed as he walked over to the stubborn, dark-haired child. "You better not … I think the captain will feed me to the sharks if you'd fall" he leaned his meaty arms on the railing next to the kid, who looked up at the man and giggled again. James shook his head and laughed as well. He had know Nerissa since she was a small child and he had joined with the ship's crew, now almost four years ago. He had watched her turn more and more into her father day after day. Which was not a bad thing, not at all. He liked his captain and the captain's small family.

"The waves come high today … the wind is picking up" Nerissa said and glanced up at the sky as clouds gathered slowly. Her father had taught her enough to realize that chances of storm weather were increasing, fast. She glanced next to her and saw James smiling at her. "You're right, kiddo … You're getting good at this." He knew the child was smart, very smart. She always picked up these things easily. Like tying knots, he never heard of an eight year old that is able to tie every knot necessary to run a ship as large as the Bellany. Nerissa gave him a bright smile and jumped of the railing. "I'm gonna tell dad" she said and before James could answer, the little rugrat sped off.

James chuckled before walking downstairs and fetching more men. The ropes must be checked and strengthened in case the storm would hit the ship.

Nerissa jumped down the stairs that led to the captain's cabin and threw open the door before walking inside. Two accusing pair of eyes met hers from where her parents sat at the table. Nerissa looked at her feet. "I know, knock before I enter," she murmured and glanced up. Her mother shook her head and smiled towards her husband, who flashed a grin back. Nerissa saw this as a good sign and walked over to her mother. Maria Bellany hugged her daughter and kissed her dark head. "You're forgiven" she said and watched lovingly as her child walked over and hugged her father. Most would never believe that the captain could be so tender.

Captain Samuel Bellany was a huge, mountain of a man. Well over six feet with toned muscles from a hard working life, he was intimidating to say the least. His graying raven hair was long and unkempt as it hung freely around his shoulders. An old pirate's hat rested on top of his head. His cleanly shaven cheeks gave him a boyish and handsome look on his strong face. But it was his eyes that made most freeze in fear. They were a cold, electric blue that gained a silver shade when he was angry and turned warm when he felt loved. It seemed his daughter inherited those eyes, something he was very grateful for.

Nerissa looked up at her father. "I think there's a storm coming up" she said suddenly. Samuel laughed. "Really?" he said. "Let's go see then" He stood up and watched his energetic daughter nod and run outside. The huge man gave his wife a soft kiss and both of them stepped outside and climbed the stairs.

As soon as the captain stepped outside, he knew something was wrong. "Stay here" he said to his wife as he stepped out on the deck. The sky had turned an eerie dark color and the wind was blowing hard. Samuel saw some of his men putting on storm ropes. He saw Nerissa helping them but noticed that she had trouble fighting the wind. He feared that she would be blown into the wild and stormy sea. Making his way over, he stopped one of the men. "Dylan, get the rest of the crew. We'll need them up here," he said "Aye Captain," Dylan replied and made his way to the lower deck to fetch the others. Samuel glanced back at his wife and saw her standing at the stairs, holding the railing tightly. She gave him a worried look, making him continue his way.

Suddenly, it began to rain heavily, soaking everyone to the bone. The captain reached Nerissa and told her to get her mother and seek shelter downstairs. Nerissa frowned but then nodded, understanding that she couldn't do much here. She grabbed her father tightly as they stumbled to the other side of the deck. Halfway however, flashes started to appear on the sky and mere moments later, the first lightning bolts crashed down from the sky. One hit the back of the ship, blowing away the steersman and rendering the vessel out of control. Another blew away part of the bow, making the men seeking cover. Moments later, a third snapped the main mast, sending it down onto the deck. Samuel tried to grab his daughter and run, but it was too late. The enormous mast hit Samuel on his leg, trapping him beneath it as he saw one of the smaller pieces hitting his daughter full in the chest, sending her overboard. "Noooooooooooo!!!!" he yelled loudly, trying to get his shattered leg free. He heard his wife yelling for her daughter, her wails carried by the wind.

Nerissa didn't know what was happening. She knew she was in trouble when the beam hit her and knocked the wind out of her. Then she was suddenly engulfed by the ice cold water and dragged beneath the surface by her soaked clothing. She panicked and tried in vain to swim, but her lungs ached and black spots came before her eyes right before all turned to darkness. But somewhere in her mind, she reacted by grabbing hold of some driftwood and floated to the surface. The current slowly took her further away.

Cornwall, Spring, 1769
Just before noon …

Bailey ran home with a bucket of ice cold water from the well. She just finished cleaning out the stables and didn't want to smell like horses for lunch. Entering her room, she placed the bucket down and searched the chest for a clean shirt and trousers. Finding it, she stripped, washed and dried off while shivering from the cold. Donning the fresh clothes, she ran out of the door and towards the sea, where Sarah would be waiting.

And she was. Leaning against the big tree and munching on an apple, Sarah sat, obviously in deep thought. She looked up and smiled when she heard Bailey approach. "Hey," she said and tossed another apple towards her friend. Bailey caught it and took a bite while sinking down next to Sarah. "Hey yourself," she said, still munching on her last bite. They chatted a bit while sharing a meal of cold chicken, fresh fruit and salted fish. Bailey did notice that her friend was not her usual chatty self. Finishing up her meal with a healthy swallow of water, she looked at her silent companion. "Ok, out with it Sarah. What did you want to tell me?"

Sarah stared at the ground. "I found out something yesterday … about you," she began in a soft voice. Bailey frowned but remained silent. Sarah peeked at her friend. "My father told me that the day they found you … you uhm … you wore the clothes of a pirate." Bailey's eyes widened and she faced the sea. Sarah moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling it back when Bailey tensed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, Lee. You have to believe me," she tried. Bailey slowly looked at her. "You mean that the reason everyone hates me is because I'm a pirate?" she said, not really asking. She sighed and rubbed her face. Sarah tried again to touch her and was relieved when her touch was welcomed.

"You know, I always knew that the sea was the key," Bailey said softly. "Now I know where to search." Sarah gasped, the meaning of those words sinking in. "You're not leaving, are you?" Bailey looked into her green eyes. "I think I have to," she said softly. Sarah fell into her arms and started to sob. "I don't want you to go," she murmured while burying her face in Bailey's neck. Bailey wrapped her arms around Sarah tightly and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. "I would have left sooner or later anyway … My place is not here" she said slowly. Sarah moved back a little and stared into Bailey's eyes. "What about me?" her voice was breaking. Bailey smiled sadly, "You'll find someone, get married, and start a family. Then you'll forget about me … I don't think I can wait around seeing all that." There, she finally said it.

Sarah arched an eyebrow. "Why?" she asked softly while staring into those blue eyes that held her soul. Bailey swallowed, preparing herself to speak what's in her heart, thinking that she would lose Sarah's friendship anyway. "Because it would break my heart to see you in the arms of another," she closed her eyes and braced herself for what was to come.

Sarah smiled lovingly and ran a hand along Bailey's jaw line until confused blues opened. Then she lowered her face and gently brushed her lips against Baileys. "I'm not as naïve as you might think, Lee … I feel the same way," Sarah whispered before pressing her lips back against Bailey's, who gently placed one of her strong hands at the back of the blonde's neck. Sarah shifted and straddled Bailey's lap as she slowly ran her tongue along Bailey's lips. Both of them moaned softly as their tongues met in a slow sensuous dance and their eyes fluttered shut. Bailey placed a hand at the small of Sarah's back, pressing her closer, while the blond grasped her shoulders tightly.

Long moments later, they separated slightly in need of oxygen. "Wow," Sarah murmured and watched blue eyes open. The love she saw shining there made her heart skip a beat or two. Bailey kissed her again, softly. "I love you … I always have" she admitted shyly. Sarah smiled, "Ditto" she said, causing both women to laugh. Sarah sat back to the side again, still in Bailey's arms. She laid her head against the taller woman's chest and listened to the strong beating heart. Bailey rested her chin on top of Sarah's head. They sat in silence, watching the waves and thinking about what would be in store for them.

About an hour later, the sun slowly disappeared between rising clouds. Bailey looked up and groaned, "It's going to rain … really soon," she murmured. Sarah stood up slowly and watched Bailey do the same, just as the first drops began to fall. "I wonder how you do that?" the blond began as they rushed back to the village, laughing as the rain started to fall heavily. Bailey just shrugged. She always had this skill to pronounce the weather, a skill only used by sailors.

They reached Bailey's room already soaked and shivering. Bailey quickly ushered the blond inside and closed the door after she had entered herself. Breathing hard, both woman laughed as the brunette shook her head like a dog to get the water out. Bailey saw Sarah shiver from the cold and grabbed a towel and a fresh warm blanket. Handing both items to Sarah, she frowned, knowing that the blond would freeze in her wet dress. Sarah started to dry her hair and then turned her back to Bailey. "I have to get out of this dress … Can you?" she pointed at the buttons on her back. "Uhm, Ok," Bailey answered and took a step closer before starting to undo the buttons with shaking hands. Sarah noticed her shaking fingers and smiled shyly.

Short moments later, the last button was undone and the dress fell from Sarah's shoulder. Bailey's breath hitched as her eyes took in the slender form before her. Realizing she was staring, she quickly turned around. Sarah dried off quickly and wrapped herself into the blanket before sitting on the bed. Even from her point of view, she could see the nice shade of red her companion sported and she smiled brightly. "I'm done," she said and one blue eye peeked back. Bailey quickly grabbed the wet dress and hung it over the end of the bed to dry. Then, she was at loss and stood still with a frown on her face. Sarah tossed her the blanket that was already on the bed. "Get out of those clothes before you catch your death" she said and then turned her face to the other side. Bailey swallowed before tossing off her boots. She turned her back to Sarah as she started to peel the soaked and sticky fabric from her skin. Sarah fought an internal battle not to look. A grunt came from Bailey, causing her to take a peek. Bailey struggled with her trousers and Sarah had to bite back a moan when seeing the back of those strong thighs. She quickly faced the other side again as Bailey finally succeeded in removing her clothing. Bailey wrapped herself in the blanket and sat down next to Sarah.
They sat in silence for long moment, their breathing the only sound in the room. They each stole glances at each other, not daring to take the next step. Bailey looked to her side and met green eyes. A strange fire burned within them and Bailey felt like she was drawn to them. Inch by inch, they moved closer together until their lips met again. Sarah wasted no time and tangled a hand in Bailey's long raven hair, pulling her closer and pushing her tongue inside her lover's willing mouth. Someone moaned, but neither care who it was.

Sarah fell back, pulling Bailey on top of her as they kept kissing. Breaking up for air, Bailey stared into Sarah's eyes. The love she saw there made her heart soar. Sarah smiled and placed another soft kiss on her lips. "I love you, Bailey" she murmured, noticing the darkening of blue eyes. Bailey kissed her as well, "and I love you" she said sincerely.

Small hands traveled between their bodies as Sarah unraveled the blanket around herself. Bailey raised herself on her arms slightly as her lover undid her blanket and tossed it aside. They moved to lie side by side, staring openly at each other's body. Soon, shy hands slowly ran along the other's skin, watching goose bumps appear in its place. They moved closer and kissed passionately as their legs entwined. Bailey placed soft kisses on Sarah's throat who moaned softly. "I've never done this before," the blond whispered. Bailey kissed her jaw and beneath her ear, "Neither have I," she whispered in answer. Sarah moaned again and pressed her body closer to Bailey's while claiming her lips again. Bailey's thumb found Sarah's nipple and softly caressed it, moaning softly when feeling it harden under her touch. She moaned again when Sarah copied her actions and again when the blond let her hand caress Bailey's abs and ran through soft curls. "I dreamed of this," Sarah murmured before she dipped her fingers in Bailey's wetness. Bailey opened herself wider and copied her lover.

They pleasured each other, learning what their partner liked, while exchanging soft kisses and soft moans. They both felt the end nearing as they locked their eyes and simultaneous entered each other. A flash of pain crossed them as their vaginal veils were broken, but vanished quickly as their hips started to grind together. Their mouths met and they swallowed each other's cries while they shuddered as the waves rushed through their bodies.

Bailey rolled on her back, pulling Sarah on her chest while they both tried to get air back into their lungs. Sarah straddled her lover and pressed her passion against Bailey's. Both of them moaned. "I don't know what I'm doing … but it feels too good to stop," she said in a hoarse voice and thrust her hips again. Bailey bit her lower lip and shook her head, "Don't stop" she begged. Sarah thrusted a few more times before groaning long and loudly and collapsing on top of her lover, the juices dripping from her sex causing Bailey to climax a second time as well.

Sarah nuzzled Bailey's neck, who stretched out a hand and pulled the forgotten blanket over them. No words where necessary as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Bailey softly ran her fingers through blond locks, causing Sarah to fall asleep. Smiling at her lover, Bailey closed her eyes and followed her into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Hours later, blue eyes fluttered open and Bailey looked down at the tussled blond head on her chest. Running her hand up and down the naked back, she smiled when Sarah moaned and blurry green eyes opened. Sarah leaned up and placed a soft lingering kiss on Bailey's lips. "What time is it?" she asked softly. Bailey shook her head, "I have absolutely no idea." Sarah placed a kiss just below her ear and then sighed. "What's wrong?" Bailey asked. "I'm scared, Lee … What will happed now?" Sarah whispered softly. Bailey made eye-contact, "I don't really know. But we'll think of something … I love you, I always have and always will." Sarah smiled shyly "I love you too. And you're right, we'll think of something." They lay together for a while, not wanting to let go.

"I think I better get home," Sarah said, "Father will be mad if I miss dinner." Bailey slowly nodded and watched as a very naked Sarah stood up. Her eyes ran along her lover's flesh. "You are so beautiful," she murmured, causing the blond to blush. Sarah grabbed her now dry dress and slowly put it on together with her shoes. Bailey sat up and watched Sarah lean towards her. Pulling her closer, Bailey kissed her, trying to put all her love into the kiss. Moments later, Sarah left the room, slightly out of breath and flustered.

When Sarah came home, she knew something wasn't quit right. She found her parents in the living room, together with Roger. Her mother looked at her sadly, while the two men carried a bright smile. "What's going on?" she asked. Her father pointed towards a chair and Sarah slowly sat down. "Daughter," he started and Sarah was immediately on guard. Whenever her father used 'daughter' to name her, it wasn't good news. She glanced at her mother and saw that she was staring into nothing. Frowning, she faced her father again. Jon stood up, followed by Roger. "Daughter, about an hour ago, Roger has asked me for your hand," he said. Sarah's eyes widened, "What?!" she exclaimed. Jon held up his hand, silencing her. "If you say that you have a boyfriend, I won't be mad and will allow you to marry him; whoever he is. But you are 21 years old and your marriage is already overdue. So I ask you now, do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah mutely shook her head and saw Roger's smile widening. "It's settled them. You'll marry Roger before the week is out," Jon concluded before slapping his new son-in-law on his shoulder. Sarah stood up and looked at her mother, "Mom?" she asked softly. Sad green eyes met hers, silently sending the message 'I'm sorry'. She walked out of the room, thinking that this is not happening, that it's just a bad dream. But when she looked back and met with Roger's longing stare, she knew it was the truth. Running up the stairs, she dropped down on her bed and broke out into sobs.

That's how Anna found her hours later, still fully dressed and sobbing in her pillow. The elder woman sat down next to her daughter and slowly rubbed her back. "It'll be Ok, Sarah," she said softly and watched as red-rimmed eyes looked up. "Roger is not a bad man," Anna stated. Sarah wiped at her cheeks. "But I don't love him," her voice broke. Anna smiled tenderly at her daughter and sighed, "Honey, love only happens in fairy-tales. It's not real." Sarah remained silent and lay her head down into her mother's lap. She knew that wasn't true and thought it was sad that her mother never knew how true love felt. After a short time, Anna stood up and gave Sarah a kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry too much. It'll be Ok" she whispered and left the room. Sarah lay awake and begged to whoever would listen for answers. What should she do? She couldn't marry Roger, she was totally in love with Bailey. She gave her innocence to Bailey mere hours ago. Then it hit her. Bailey said that her place wasn't here in this village and Sarah now knew that her place was by Bailey's side. If she stayed, she would lose her dark-haired lover and have a miserable life.

http://www.xenafiction.net/scrolls/bacc ... er_fy.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Ja sam: lezbijka
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 14 ruj 2012 21:16

nesretno djetinjstvo s majkom ovisnicom...susret sa nekadašnjom školskom kolegicom sada automehaničarkom

~ Rumors ~
by BadSquirrel

Hannah's heartbeat roared in her ears and she downed half of her drink in an effort to quiet it. The resulting loosening of her body was quite pleasurable and she smiled. Feeling reckless, she signaled for another drink and finished off the first. Kelly walked slowly around the table, chalking her stick, and Hannah watched her closely. The table was studied carefully and when Kelly made her decisions she moved confidently into position. Hannah couldn't help but notice the grace and power in Kelly's hands and body. Each stroke was gently, but firmly executed. When she did finally miss a shot she appeared to be pleased with the placement of the cue ball and Hannah fathomed that it was what she intended. The next woman to the table was sharp and bullish in the way she played. It looked as though she thought that if she hit the balls hard enough they would have to go in. Hannah smiled when the second one didn't. Kelly came back to the table and quickly ended the game. Hannah clapped with everyone else. Listening to the chatter in the bar as the balls were gathered up and arranged, she learned that the first player to four wins would go on to the finals. She watched Kelly pick up a bottle of water and drink before slowly turning to survey the room. Knowing that Kelly would spot her soon, Hannah explored the feeling of excitement that flooded her and left her feeling defenseless. When Kelly's eyes found her she could feel a burning blush creeping up her throat and her vision narrowed to a tunnel that excluded the rest of the bar. Yikes! I barely know this woman and one glance from her makes me feel happy. If I had ever felt even the tiniest part of this with Jill… Kelly's attention was pulled away by the game and Hannah felt her vision snap back to normal. She clutched the bar until her balance returned. Kelly's poise fragmented and she lost Game #5. Hannah saw her become indecisive and graceless and wondered if Kelly had seen something in her face that had upset her. As her opponent readied for the break in Game #6, Kelly caught her eye with a shrug and a smile. Hannah smiled back encouragingly as Kelly tapped a man for a cigarette. He offered a light and Kelly shook her head. Hannah wondered what she was doing as she stuck it in her mouth and turned back to the game. She could see that Kelly was drawing air through it now and then and Hannah didn't think it offered the same effects if it wasn't lit, but her game immediately improved. She had to work for it, but she took her fourth game and the bar cheered her. Kelly tucked the unsmoked cigarette behind her ear and took her stick apart before putting it in a case. Hannah finished her third drink and considered before ordering another one. Two other women moved towards the table and Kelly picked up her things. Hannah waited anxiously as Kelly made her way through the room to her side.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks." Kelly set her case on the bar and asked the bartender for another bottle of water, then asked him to hold her case behind the bar. "So," she said as she turned back to Hannah, "I expected to see Jill here with you."

"I don't recall you inviting me to bring her."

"I didn't, but I still expected to see her with you."

"We're not dating anymore." Hannah watched Kelly carefully and while her face didn't change, Hannah could feel her satisfaction.

"Whose idea was that?"

"Mine," Hannah admitted. Wanting to change the subject, she indicated the pool table with a nod of her head. "Will you be playing the winner of this game in the final?"

"Yes, and unless she breaks an arm, the one with the flowery vest is going to win."

"You sound pretty sure."

Kelly grinned. "I'm positive. And I predict she'll beat me, too."

"Well, that's no way to think. She'll beat you for sure if you believe she will."

Kelly laughed. "That's Elizabeth Flynn. She's the best player in this part of the state. She only plays in tournaments so this is a great opportunity for me to see how good I really am. If I can win two games off of her I'll be thrilled and if I only win one I'll still go home happy."

"She's that good?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Shouldn't you be studying her game or something?"

Kelly kept her eyes on Hannah as she took a drink of her water. "Or something sounds better. Do you want to take a short walk?"

Cricket came to mind and she suggested that they let him run around for a bit. They ended up slowly pacing the alley beside the bar while Cricket ran around sniffing everything.

"You look really nice," Hannah ventured. The tall woman was wearing Dockers and a pink Polo shirt. The clothes fit her very well, but Hannah noticed that the sleeves were a little tight.

Kelly ducked her head before responding. "I'm scared to death I'm going to get smudged. I seem to attract grease and dirt no matter what I do."

"I have a similar problem with hair and lint."

Kelly laughed. "I wonder if it means anything that I chose a profession that puts me in touch with grease and dirt and you ended up grooming dogs."

Hannah grinned and found herself with nothing to say. The silence was uncomfortable mainly because the only thing she wanted to talk about was her growing attraction, but she was afraid to bring it up. Glancing at Kelly from the corner of her eye she spotted the cigarette behind her ear. "So, what's the deal with the cigarette?"

Kelly reached up and took it from her ear, rolling it gently between her fingertips as she spoke. "I'm trying to quit and sometimes it helps just to have it in my mouth. I'm down to five a day and I'm only allowed one more today so I'd like to put it off for as long as possible. I really needed one earlier and just having this was enough to get me centered."

"I wondered what happened. You looked so confident and in control one minute and the next you weren't."

Kelly returned the cigarette to it's spot and grinned down at Hannah. "Seeing you at the bar really threw me off."

"Me?" Hannah was secretly pleased. "Maybe I should leave if I'm going to disrupt your game."

"I'd rather see you than win."

Hannah returned Kelly's bold gaze with a shy smile. "That's a sweet thing to say, but I'd like to see you win, too."

Kelly pushed her hands deep in her pockets with a shrug. "I'll do my best."

The alcohol in Hannah's system made her audacious. She watched herself reach out and run her hand slowly down the inside of Kelly's forearm. She felt the same softness over steel she remembered from the pizza parlor, but the skin seemed thinner here. Maybe it was that here she could feel tendons and ligaments. Individual muscles tensed and relaxed under her fingertips and Hannah tugged to pull Kelly's hand free of her slacks so she could study it. Kelly's hand was much larger than her own and seemed to be made almost entirely of sinew and bone. The skin was dry and callused and her nails were short and square.

"Hannah."

She could hear Kelly, but couldn't look up. "I don't remember you from high school," she blurted out.

"Well, that's disappointing, but not unexpected," Kelly said quietly. "I was a nerd."

Hannah raised the strong hand to her face and closed her eyes. "I found you in my yearbook. I saw the swim team photos, but I don't remember you." She held the palm of Kelly's hand to her cheek, aware of each finger and where it lay.

"That's okay." Kelly's voice was deeper, more resonant. "I was a freshman and you were a senior. That's how high school is."

"I've seen you at events over the years: dances and dinners. I didn't even know your name." Kelly's thumb traced her eyebrow and Hannah caught her breath.

"None of that matters. I don't care about the past. I care about now."

A clatter in the alley startled them both and they turned to see Cricket playing with a discarded plastic drink bottle. He threw it up in the air and chased it with his nose, making a terrible ruckus. Hannah drew Kelly's hand from her face and laced their fingers together. They continued walking after Cricket.

"Have I ever, in all that time, been disrespectful or rude to you?" Hannah asked.
"I asked you out once and you said no," Kelly grinned. "It was horrible. I cried all night."

"Please tell me you didn't," Hannah begged.

"All right, so I didn't cry." Kelly squeezed her hand gently. "Actually, we did meet once, a long time ago."

"Is this a good story?" She looked up to see Kelly smiling fondly.

"I started out my high school career by cutting orientation, so on the first day of school I was trying to find my classes by using the map they mail you in the registration packet. I got turned around on the stairs and was completely lost between 2nd and 3rd period. I was supposed to be in English, but I was wandering around by the sciences and you stopped to help me."

"Are you sure it was me?"

"Positive. Anyway, you threw my map away saying it would make me a target for the upperclassmen and explained how the different subjects were divided up and separated by the structure of the school. You walked me to my class and you didn't make me feel stupid. I never got lost again, but later that same day I saw another freshman getting teased over that same map."

"I don't remember any of that." Hannah felt bad and somehow guilty.

"Hey, you're supposed to feel good about yourself after hearing that story. It was the nicest thing anyone did for me in high school and I wouldn't trade the memory of it for anything. I knew that you didn't know who I was. At the time I didn't think I was worth remembering. I was a mess: I was struggling to understand why I felt so different and so alone. I didn't fit in my skin or in the world. I'm glad you don't remember me. I wrote horrible poetry and wore hideous clothes. I wasn't much fun to know until I realized I was gay and decided that it was a good thing."

Hannah watched Kelly lift their hands and kiss the back of her hand. She could feel the brief pressure of those lips like a shock throughout her whole body.

"Your grandmother was a lifeline for me. She listened to my poetry and my angst and made me feel not so stupid and ugly."

"How did you know she was my grandmother?"

"I didn't at first. I started out just going to watch you practice."

"Why?"

Kelly was quiet for a long moment. "Because you were nice to me once and I thought you were…cute."

Hannah grinned at Kelly's discomfort. "Did you have a crush on me?"

"You're going to tease me about this, aren't you?"

"Nobody ever had a crush on me before," Hannah giggled. "I think it's sweet."

"You know, I'm not fourteen anymore," Kelly warned.

"True," Hannah flirted. "But somewhere inside this handsome exterior is a fourteen year old girl who has a crush on me and I'll tease her if I want."

A huge grin split Kelly's face. "You think I'm handsome?"

"Do you still think I'm cute?"

They stood, daring each other with their eyes, until a door opened and the noise of the bar intruded.

"Hey, Kelly!" A man's voice called out.

"Yeah?"

"They're looking for you in here. Liz took Rhonda four nothin' and you're up in ten minutes."

"Thanks, Brian. I'll be right in."

Hannah noticed that Kelly had placed her body between her and the door. Whether it was to hide her or protect her she didn't know, but she realized it didn't matter. It was a sweet and chivalrous thing to do.

"You can go in and I'll take Cricket back to the car," Hannah offered.

"You shouldn't be outside alone."

"Don't be silly. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Hannah turned and snapped her fingers and Cricket came running, his leash trailing on the ground.

"Okay," Kelly said. "But if you're not inside by the time the game starts I'm coming looking for you."

"I'll be there," Hannah promised as she picked up Cricket's leash.

"Hannah?"

She turned back at the question in Kelly's voice.

"How about a kiss for luck?"

Hannah tried to sound normal, but her knees were knocking. "I'll kiss you if you win."

"You don't understand how unlikely that is," Kelly protested.

Hannah stepped closer and ran a finger over her lips. "How bad do you want it?"

"Bad," Kelly breathed, her gaze intense.

Hannah started walking backwards. "I'll be rooting for you."

Kelly's eyes found her the instant she reentered the bar and Hannah wished she had kissed her when she had the chance. The people who remained to watch the final were clustered around the table so Hannah had a better choice of bar seats and she chose one closer to the action. A woman her own age, but rounder of figure and rosier of feature was talking animatedly to Kelly and from their demeanor they were friends. Hannah wondered what they were saying and wished she could hear. It made her jealous to see someone else making Kelly smile. She ordered another drink while listening with half an ear to the woman who introduced the players and explained that since Kelly's opponent had fewer losses during the tournament she was allowed to choose who would break. No one seemed surprised that Liz chose to do the honors herself, but surprise was evident in the crowd when nothing went in. Hannah watched Kelly's bearing change as she walked slowly around the table. She looks like a predator…or the arrow readied for flight. Hannah held her breath as Kelly's long form bent over the table. She wondered if Kelly was aware of anything but the game. Taking her time and never lifting her eyes from the balls, Kelly sank one shot after the other. Hannah cheered as the eight ball fell into its pocket. Kelly unleashed a powerful stroke to break the formation on the second game and two balls, a stripe and a solid, went in. Kelly considered the table for some time before choosing the stripes. Carefully planning each shot Kelly again cleared the table and the crowd began to talk about the possibility of an upset. But on the break for the third game, all of the balls remained on the table. Kelly stood stoically to the side and waited as Liz began to play. Where Kelly seemed focused and resolute at the table, Liz seemed poised and delicate. There was an elegance to her playing that had to come from supreme self-assurance. With every ball that slid into its pocket, Hannah disliked her more. Arrogance seemed to emanate from her and Hannah felt it as a judgement on everyone in the bar, but especially on Kelly's ability. Feeling more than a little drunk, Hannah grabbed a napkin off the bar and wrote on it carefully so the paper wouldn't tear. Searching through her purse she found some lip-gloss and, with her back to the game, applied it to her lips and pressed a kiss on the napkin under the words 'For Luck'. She leaned over and asked the nearest man to pass it to Kelly, then watched it pass from hand to hand around the room. It found it's way into Kelly's hand at the same time that Liz won her first game. While everyone else was clapping and Liz was coolly ignoring their applause, Kelly opened the napkin and chuckled. The timing was perfect and Hannah was pleased to see that Liz was discomfited by it. Kelly looked straight at Hannah and slipped the napkin inside her shirt next to her heart before resuming her pose with a lighter expression. Tickled with herself, Hannah relaxed against the bar and just enjoyed watching Kelly's long body in action. Control over the table began to shift more frequently now as Liz won 2 more games and Kelly tied it at 3 each. Early in the seventh game, Liz surged ahead and showed signs of clearing the table when she banked her last solid a little too sharply and had to relinquish control. Kelly smoothly took over and in short order was sighting on the 8-ball. Hannah began to sweat as the tension peaked. Kelly gently stroked the cue ball and it nudged the eight into the side pocket. Hannah felt a surge of elation, then dread as the cue ball rolled just a little too forcefully down the table, hovered on the brink, then fell into the corner pocket.

"You guys are looking at this all wrong," Kelly interrupted.

Hannah sat across from Kelly with several other very disappointed people around the table. An argument was underway as to whether Liz had won or Kelly had lost. The only name she remembered was that of the woman who had been talking to Kelly prior to the match. Kelly had introduced her as Cantina and named her as Best Friend.

Kelly had her cigarette between her fingers, but it was still unlit. "You're right that Liz didn't take the win from me. I gave it to her by celebrating just a moment too soon. Liz wins as often as she does because she has the mental discipline it takes to stay focused until the trophy is in hand." She lifted the second place trophy before locking gazes with Hannah. "I started thinking about what I was going to win before I won it and that loss of concentration took it away from me."

The trophy was set down and Kelly folded her arms on the table. "What you fail to realize was that I played the best pool of my life tonight and for a moment, I had her. Never in a million years did I think I could win, but look at what happened. Not only did I give her the match; I ran the table two games in a row! I've never done that before."

"You were brilliant!" Cantina patted her on the shoulder.

Kelly smiled at her. "I was. I admit it."

Hannah joined in the laughter and teasing. She was quite drunk now and a little uncomfortable with so many new people. She waited until the others were concentrating on each other and carefully made her way to the bar.

"Do you have aspirin?" she asked when the bartender came.

"How many?"

"Better make it three, and some coffee." Hannah took a deep breath but it didn't clear her head at all. She felt someone's arm against her own and swung her head to see Kelly grinning at her. "What?"

"You're really wasted, aren't you?"

Hannah leaned back to see her better and almost fell off her stool. Kelly caught her around the waist and steadied her. "Yes," she stated as clearly as she could. "I am very drunk. I have not been drunk in a very long time. Have I embarrassed myself?"

"Not yet," Kelly laughed. "There's still time though."

"Don't let me look stupid in front of your friends," Hannah begged. "Promise me?" Kelly's hand ran down her back and left a trail of heat.

"I promise." Kelly held her hand out. "Give me your car keys and I'll go get Cricket while you finish your coffee."

"Oh no," Hannah moaned as she dug in her pocket. "I forgot about Cricket. I'm a bad mother."
"You're not a bad mother, Hannah. Stay here and I'll be right back."

Hannah had just swallowed the aspirin when a hand clamped on her shoulder and Cantina sat down next to her.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Hannah hung her head as if in shame. "Nothing a baseball bat and a good night's sleep won't fix."

"Where did Kelly go?"

"To get my dog. He's been locked in the car since before the final. I forgot he was out there and now I feel like a bad mom."

"It's only been about an hour and a half. He'll be fine."

Hannah watched her as she ordered another beer. "Can I ask you a question?" At her nod she continued. "Is Cantina really your name?"

"Sort of. My little brother got confused when he was small and it just stuck. We think he heard my friends asking 'Can Tina come out and play?' Or 'Can Tina come over to my house?' And he got it in his head that Cantina was my name."

Hannah laughed. "It's kind of cute. Is that what I should call you?"

"All my friends call me Cantina. I always feel like I'm in trouble when folks call me Tina, but whatever you're comfortable with is fine by me."

"I like Cantina."

Lifting her beer Cantina took a long swallow. "Do you have a nickname?"

"Not really." Hannah suddenly pictured Freddie. "I have a friend named Freddie who calls me Pelirroja."

"Ooh! That's pretty. It sounds Spanish."

"I'm never sure with Freddie. He claims to be part Mexican but sometimes he makes up words. He says it means 'red headed girl'."

"Pelirroja." Cantina rolled the name around with her tongue. "I like it."

Hannah took a drink of her coffee. "Have you known Kelly for a long time?"

"Hmm," Cantina thought for a moment. "Six or seven years, I guess. We were housemates for a while when she moved here from New Mexico. You knew that she was in New Mexico for a while, right? She answered my ad in the paper for a roommate and we lived together for about a year and a half until I got married and had my twins. We've been friends ever since."

"Twins?"

"You want to see pictures?" Cantina asked hopefully.

Hannah nodded and let her pull out a handful of photo's featuring two beautiful and completely identical little girls. The bartender freshened up her coffee on his way by and she smiled and laughed as Cantina talked about her babies. Kelly came back after a bit wearing a jacket and Hannah grinned at seeing Cricket's happy little face peeking out. She kept an ear on Cantina's children and watched as Kelly discreetly showed Cricket to her other friends.

"They look a lot like you," Hannah said when Cantina wound down. "They have your beautiful skin, too."

"Thanks. I never really wanted kids until I held them in my arms for the first time, but now I can't imagine living without them. Do you have children?"

"No."

"Ever want any?"

"I've got Cricket."

Cantina looked confused. "Cricket?"

"My dog. He's currently hiding in Kelly's jacket." She pointed to where Kelly sat. "He's all the child I need or want. And the added bonus is that he'll never be a teenager."

Cantina groaned. "Please don't remind me. I was a horrible teenager and my mother cursed me. She can't wait for the two of them to drive me crazy as payback for how I treated her."

"Maybe they'll balance each other out," Hannah suggested. Though she was still very drunk she could feel that she had stopped getting more intoxicated. She felt hopeful that her morning wouldn't be too bad.

Kelly came over a few minutes later and recommended that she let her drive her home. Hannah offered to call a cab but Kelly declined. They said goodbye and every one congratulated Kelly again on a well-played game. The ride home was quiet and Cricket stood on her lap to stare out the front window. Kelly walked her to the front door and pulled Hannah's keys out of her jacket before unerringly choosing the correct key and unlocking her house. Hannah leaned against the doorjamb and watched her.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked hopefully.

"Not tonight, I think," Kelly replied as she handed the keys over. "What time do you start work tomorrow?"

Hannah struggled to remember as Cricket ran around the front yard checking his territory. "I'm pretty sure my first appointment is at 8:00. I'll open the shop at 7:45."

"I'll bring your car back on my way to work then." Kelly put her hands in her jacket pockets and stepped back. "Are you going to be all right tonight?"

Hannah felt a hint of panic when she saw Kelly beginning to leave. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Kelly shook her head. "I didn't win, remember?"

"You won second," Hannah said quickly. "Besides, I didn't mean it to be taken liberally…literally," she corrected. Kelly took another step back and Hannah followed.

"Very tempting," Kelly persisted, "but I want to be sure you'll remember being kissed."

Hannah couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're really not going to kiss me?"

"I'm really not," Kelly grinned.

Anger flashed through Hannah. "You're getting even with me, aren't you? You're upset that I didn't kiss you when you asked and now you're getting even! Can you see how incredibly petty you're being?"

Kelly kept grinning. "I'm not getting even, Hannah."

"You don't want to kiss me? Fine! I don't want to kiss you either!"

"Yes, you do."

Hannah gaped for an instant. "You don't know half what you think you do. I do not need you standing on my property telling me what I want. What the hell was I thinking going after a butch dyke? I must be crazy!" The grin on Kelly's face was infuriating and Hannah stomped into her house to get away from it. Slamming the door was almost as satisfying as the scream of frustration she let out.

Hannah took a deep breath and heard a scratching on the door followed by a tiny voice.

"Please mommy? Let me come in?"

I forgot Cricket again and she's laughing at me, I just know it. Hannah yanked open the door to see her beloved dog held in front of Kelly's laughing face. She gently took Cricket, making sure Kelly saw her scowl before slamming the door again.

"I'll see you in the morning," Kelly called through the door.

"Don't bother!" Hannah screeched back.

"Lock your door, Hannah."

Hannah locked her door and stomped her feet.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/badsquirrel_rumors1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 16 ruj 2012 21:05

SF pričica ...2 dijela ... The Flight of the Gryphon, Hero of Arcadia

THE FLIGHT OF THE GRYPHON
by Barbara Davies

For the fifth time in as many minutes, Mavra compared the landscape below her to the map open on her knees and scowled. Damned factory must be around here somewhere! She rubbed tired eyes and stretched the ache from her shoulders as best she could in the cramped cockpit. It was late afternoon, and she had been airborne nearly 30 hours, with only two brief stops to refuel. Though she had skirted occupied territory for as long as possible, getting to Cheltain meant crossing into it eventually. Dodging Vieden fighters and Ack-Ack had taken unceasing concentration, then thick fog had complicated the twenty-mile crossing. When she had finally sighted the famous white cliffs she had breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon, as it turned out. Twelve CAF fighters dived towards her, wary of this strange aircraft with its Arcadian markings trying to enter their airspace. Thinking it would be ironic if she had come this far only to be shot down by friendly fire, she was reaching for her radio, hoping Intelligence's gen on the frequency was accurate, when the leader waggled his wings and peeled off. His companions followed him, and the last she saw of them they were roaring southeast, in search of more appropriate prey. She wasn't in the clear yet though. The fuel gauge was reading 'Empty'. She tapped it with a gloved knuckle; it wobbled then rose, but not by much. The next time it read 'Empty', she'd be flying on fumes. I'd better find that factory soon. The landscape unrolling below her was lush. Dense woodlands, meadows where livestock grazed, fields full of ripening crops, picturesque villages ... it couldn't be more different from her homeland. Cheltain's roads and railways hadn't been obliterated, and her farms, villages, and towns weren't piles of smoking rubble. Odd, for those ubiquitous church spires and towers must be a tempting target; perhaps Vieden bomber crews preferred to use them as landmarks. So far at least, the island kingdom's waters had protected her from the worst. She felt a twinge of envy that the Arcadian Republic had not been so fortunate. Something flashed up ahead and Mavra came instantly alert. There it was again. Sunlight glinting off chrome, windshields, and propellers. She squinted. It was hard to be certain from this distance, but two fighter planes appeared to be attacking a third. Which was friend and which foe? She weighed her dwindling fuel reserves and the importance of completing her mission against the temptation to take a closer look. The sun's behind me. It's worth a try. Gaining height quickly, she levelled off and arrowed towards the three planes. As she drew closer, details became clearer. The attacking planes' cut-off wingtips were unmistakable. As were their bright yellow noses and black lightning-flash markings. Viieden Sabres. She bared her teeth. Their prey was the far less manoeuvrable Cheltish Nimbus. And for some reason it wasn't returning their fire. Instead it banked and weaved and hugged the land's contours, trying to shake off its pursuers. With limited success, if the bullet holes stitched in one wing were anything to go by. Mavra frowned. It must be fresh from the aircraft factory she was seeking, its pilot taking it elsewhere to have instruments and armaments fitted. She's a sitting duck. So why haven't you finished her off? Decided to play cat and mouse to relieve the boredom? ... You're going to wish you hadn't. Mavra flicked the gun button's catch from 'Safe' to 'Fire' and dived out of the sun. The engine noise increased to a scream and a draught whistled under the canopy as the nearest Sabre, still unsuspecting, grew larger in her sights. She clutched the stick with both hands, steadying the Gryphon as a hunter steadies his rifle, snuggled down and waited for the right moment. Now. She thumbed the gun button. For two seconds, machine gun bullets squirted towards her target, then she was pulling away into a steep climb, the smell of cordite acrid in her nostrils. A quick glance in the rear view mirror showed tongues of orange flame licking along the Sabre's fuselage. Oily black smoke plumed and it began to plummet. Its canopy stayed closed; either it was jammed or its pilot was already dead. As it spun into the ground, Mavra craned her neck round, searching for the other Sabre. Where is ... Ah. That roll would bring him out behind her. A slower plane flown by a lesser pilot might have been in trouble, but Mavra was a veteran. What's more her Gryphon was the fastest thing in the sky. She sideslipped then went into the manoeuvre that had been named after her. The half-loop followed by a half-roll was perfectly executed, if she said so herself. It brought her out behind the startled Sabre pilot, slightly to his left. With a kick on the rudder, she corrected, got him in her sights, and let him have it. A jet of flame shot upwards and the Sabre exploded. The whoomph was audible even above the engine roar. Lethal shards of metal and glass shot past the Gryphon's cockpit and she hauled back on the stick, climbing out of harm's way, then circled to assess her handiwork. No survivors. Below her, figures were running across the fields towards the smoking crater and charred wreckage of the first Sabre. They were farmworkers, by the look of them, though some clutched rifles. A woman in brown overalls that emphasised broad hips stopped and pointed up at her, mouth open. Probably never seen an Arcadian plane before. The presence of an audience was irresistible, and Mavra did a victory roll and waggled her wings before remembering how low on fuel she was. Oops! Leaving the farmworkers to their gruesome task, she set off after the Nimbus, which didn't take long. It kept drifting to the left, forcing the pilot to correct. Mavra drew up alongside and turned to look at the helmeted head just visible inside the bullet-starred cockpit. A gloved hand waved at her, then gave the thumbs-up that in Cheltish means things are all right. If you say so. The other pilot would know the way to the elusive factory. Mavra reached for her radio, then paused. If the Nimbus had no guns or instruments, it was unlikely to have a radio. The fuel gauge caught her eye again and she sighed. This time it didn't budge from 'Empty' when she tapped it. Fumes it is, then. With a wave to the other pilot, she banked, arcing round onto a heading that would retrace the Nimbus's path. It was a huge assumption, both that the plane had come straight from the factory and that Mavra had calculated its course correctly, but what choice did she have? I could land and ask for fuel and directions. But that would be embarrassing. And it would waste yet more time. As it turned out, Mavra didn't need to ask for help. Within two minutes she had come upon a lorry and its work crew filling in bomb craters. The aircraft factory might be camouflaged, but the trail of damage left by last night's air raid wasn't. All she had to do was follow it home.

Mavra taxied to a halt on the concrete apron that connected the runway to the factory, and switched off the engine. After the continuous din, the silence was deafening. She slid back the canopy and saw an overall-clad work crew hurrying towards the Gryphon. Throwing her kitbag out first, she eased herself free of the tight cockpit then jumped down. Her legs were wobbly from disuse and she steadied herself against the undercarriage while circulation returned. Then she removed her helmet and shook out her hair, and with relief unstrapped the heavy parachute — the straps had been cutting into her shoulders and thighs. She arched her back and pressed a fist into it to ease the ache.

"What are you lot gawping at?" yelled the gaffer at his distracted men. Probably surprised to see that Arcadians don't have two heads. "Get that aircraft under cover at the double."

"We've been expecting you." The new voice made her turn.

A genial-looking man of about her height was smiling at her from behind his handlebar moustache. His crisp, dark blue uniform put her travel-stained flying suit to shame. "Good flight?" he asked.

"OK." She hoped her accent wasn't as bad as she suspected. Understanding Cheltish was one thing, speaking it another.

"We were worried about you. A couple of Vieden fighters got past the CAF."

She shrugged. "No longer problem."

He studied her then smiled. "Took care of them, did you? Good for you."

The workers were manhandling the Gryphon not into the hangars, as she had expected, but rather down a ramp into what looked like a reinforced bunker. He followed the direction of her gaze.

"Special treatment. She's why we're both here, after all. I'm Commander Harry Green, by the way. Ministry of Aircraft Production." He held out his hand.

She shook it. "Senior Lieutenant Mavra Vlasik of the 63rd Fighter Regiment."

"The creator of the Vlasik Turn?" His eyes widened. "It's an honour to meet you."

A yawn took her unawares, and his admiration changed to concern. "You've been flying since what ... early yesterday?"

She nodded. "Is somewhere to sleep?"

"Not at the factory, no. Men only, I'm afraid. We've arranged a billet for you at the Ferry Pool. It's a mile down the road."

Mavra's eyebrows shot up. "In pool?"

"Not a real pool, Lieutenant." He laughed and stroked his moustache — a habitual gesture, she suspected. "The ATA are based there." He saw her incomprehension. "Air Transport Auxiliary. They ferry our planes to maintenance units and airfields"

"Ah." Civilians in uniform. She stifled another yawn. If she didn't lie down soon she would fall down.

"Accommodation is pretty basic, I'm afraid."

"Floor would do."

"Oh, it's much better than that." He turned to a curly-haired corporal who had been lurking nearby. "Will you show the Lieutenant where she can catch the shuttle bus to the Ferry Pool, Perkins?"

The Corporal saluted. "Sir, very good, Sir."

"And when you're rested," continued Green, turning back to Mavra, "we'd like to debrief you. Our boffins are sure to have lots of questions about the Gryphon."

That jogged her memory, and she reached her hand inside her flying suit to an inner pocket. "These are ..." Her brain was too fogged to come up with the words so she held out the papers the Gryphon's designers had entrusted to her.

He riffled through the creased sheets, covered with diagrams and specifications, and gave a delighted smile. "Splendid! These'll make life a lot easier."

"Good. ... Now. I sleep for few hours?"

"Take as much time as you need, Lieutenant. With these," he waved the precious documents, "we have more than enough to get started. In fact," he thought for a moment, "why don't you come back tomorrow at noon? That should be early enough, and it will give you time to get some shut-eye and stretch your legs."

"Noon. OK." She suppressed another yawn, grabbed her kitbag with one hand and her parachute with the other, then looked at the waiting Corporal. "This shuttle bus. Is which way?"

He snapped to attention. "Follow me, Lieutenant."

Something roused Mavra from sleep. Voices. She cracked open an eyelid and saw light spilling through the slightly open door. Thought I closed it.

"But I can't possibly share with her, ma'am!" hissed someone. The whisper was coming from the corridor.

"Why on earth not?"

"Jack would have a fit. He thinks all Arcadians are degenerates."

"For Pete's sake! They're our Allies. Anyway, the fact that your fiancé has been taken in by Vieden propaganda is neither here nor there, Brooke. I had to put Vlasik somewhere and you've got a spare bed. ... Besides, it's only for two days."

"Davies has a spare bed —"

"This woman risked her life to bring us their new wonder plane. The least you can do is put up with a little inconvenience for a couple of days."

Silence fell.

"Which brings me to my next point," continued the second voice. "I'm putting you in charge of Vlasik."

"What? But tomorrow I'm down to deliver five planes —"

"Not now, you're not. I've taken you off ferrying while she's here."

"Are you saying I'm not up to the job, ma'am?" The whisper was indignant.

"Of course not. ... But I'd have thought after today's taxi snafu you'd be only too glad of a break."

"A break? You call babysitting —"

"Enough, Number One!" The warning note was clear. "That's an order not a request. End of discussion. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, for God's sake, get some sleep. You look worn out!"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

Footsteps departed down the corridor, and seconds later the door creaked open and someone tiptoed into the room. Considerately, she didn't switch on the light and closed the door as quietly as she could. Mavra listened to the rustle of movement that must be the woman undressing, then closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her once more. Sunlight streamed through the window. She's raised the blackout curtain. But there was no sign of the room's other occupant, though her bed had obviously been slept in. Mavra studied her surroundings: two beds, two chairs, two small chests of drawers (for clothes, presumably), and two bedside tables had been crammed into the tiny room, whose flaking walls were the same dirty beige as the corridor. She yawned and stretched, recalling a vivid dream of air raid sirens and bombs falling. Swinging her legs out of bed, she ambled barefoot over to the window. The sandbags stacked to either side of it restricted the unexpected view: a field in which cattle grazed. She blinked at the animals, scratched an itch on her arm, then checked the weather and cloud cover before remembering she wouldn't be flying today. On her roommate's bedside table lay several personal items: a leather bound Bible, some hairgrips, and a silver photograph frame out of which smiled a wellgroomed, handsome young couple. Their clothes were expensive, their teeth good. The woman's haircolour matched the fair strands tangled in the hairbrush. Is that Brooke? Mavra would find out soon enough. A little wash basin was bolted to one wall, with a foxed mirror above it. The taps dispensed water so clear it was probably drinkable, and when was the last time she had seen running hot water? She washed quickly and dried herself on a towel, ignored the flying suit and the woollen jersey, shirt, and trousers that she had worn under it (I must get those laundered.), and reached for her kitbag. Her pistol was lying on top of the dress browns her regimental commander had ordered her to bring (she was representing Arcadia after all). She set it aside and pulled out the uniform that had seen better days. On went her shirt and tie, then the wraparound skirt and belt. She stamped her feet into her boots, eased the single-breasted jacket over her broad shoulders and buttoned it. Finally, she combed her hair, gave her reflection a last rueful glance — brown really wasn't her colour — then set off in search of a toilet, which proved to be at the end of the corridor. After relieving herself, the aroma of bacon and coffee tempted her, stomach rumbling, to go in search of breakfast. A sign said 'Mess'. Odd word for the dining room. Pushing open the door, she found herself in a smoke-filled anteroom where several women and a man with one arm, in uniforms of varying shades of blue, were joshing one another and helping themselves to tea and coffee from two urns. She gave them a curt nod that they were too surprised to return, then strode past them towards the canteen entrance. Someone blocked her way: a pimply youth, a head shorter than she was, wearing the blue uniform that seemed to be ubiquitous. He froze at the sight of her, eyes bulging. She wondered whether to be flattered or insulted.

"I help you?"

"Sorry!" He flushed and stepped aside at once.

As she entered the canteen, the buzz of conversation died. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The majority of those eating at the rectangular tables were women, but there was a sprinkling of men. A fair-haired young woman at the table by the window half rose to her feet then sat down again. Her dark blue jacket had gold bars on its shoulders and sported an insignia: a circlet enclosing the letters ATA and a set of wings. Must be a ferry pilot. The face seemed familiar and Mavra remembered the photo of the smiling couple. Her nod startled the pilot, who blushed and resumed eating. Mavra headed for the counter at the far end of the canteen and joined the queue. She imitated those ahead of her and grabbed a tray. The buzz of conversation resumed, but from the frequent glances in her direction she suspected that she was now its subject.

"Yes?"

The apron-clad serving woman behind the counter gave Mavra an impatient look. She pointed at a tin full of something lumpy and yellow. The woman nodded and placed a dollop of it on a plate.

"And?"

Again Mavra pointed. By the time she had reached the end of the counter, her plate was full and her mouth watering. She added cutlery to her tray, then carried it to where the pilot was finishing her toast.

"You are Brooke, yes?"

Green eyes widened. "That's right. First Officer Gwen Brooke. How did you know?"

Mavra shrugged and smiled. "I sit with you?"

"Of course. I'm sorry you had to find your own way here, Lieutenant. You were sleeping so soundly that ... well, I was going to come and fetch you after I'd finished my own breakfast."

"Is OK. ... Please, call me Mavra." She sat down, picked up her fork, and transferred some of the yellow glop onto a piece of fried bread.

"Mavra? What an unusual name. ... You had better call me Gwen then."

"In my country Gwen unusual name." She took a bite, chewed, then let out a contented grunt.

"You don't actually like that muck, do you?"

"'Muck'?"

Gwen pointed. "Powdered eggs. Tastes nothing like the real thing."

Mavra shrugged. "Is not cabbage." She took another mouthful then paused midchew as a redhaired pilot scrambled into the empty seat opposite her.

"You're the Arcadian combat pilot, aren't you? Everyone's talking about you."

"Joan, can't you see she's eating?"

The redhead waved Gwen's protests aside. Mavra resumed chewing and nodded.

"And that's some kind of special award, isn't it?" Joan was pointing at the Order of the Green Banner pinned above Mavra's breast pocket — the Co-Presidents themselves had given her that.

Again she nodded.

"All those triangles on your epaulettes ... What rank are you?"

"Senior Lieutenant Mavra Vlasik." Mavra transferred her fork and held out a hand. "How do?" That didn't sound quite right. She frowned and went over it in her head. How do you? How you do?

"Did you say Vlasik?" Joan appeared too awe-struck to notice the hand, so Mavra took it back and forked up more of her breakfast. "How many kills is it now? 70? 80?"

Mavra wasn't sure of the exact number. "93?" she hazarded. Gwen's eyes widened at the number.

"What is it like?" breathed Joan.

"'It'?"

"Shooting down the enemy."

Was there a word to describe the satisfaction she got whenever she shot down the bastards who had tried to obliterate her country, her home, her family ... "Good," she said finally. It was inadequate but it would do. "Feels good.

Joan had opened her mouth to ask another question when she caught sight of her wristwatch and gave a little shriek. "Oh Lord! I'll miss the shuttle bus if I don't get a move on." She shoved back her chair and stood up. "See you later. Nice to meet you, Mavra."

Mavra nodded, watched Joan hurry from the Mess, then turned back to her breakfast. Gwen watched her from under lowered eyelashes as she piled baked beans on a slice of fried bread. Mavra wondered what she was thinking.

"I owe you a thank you," said Gwen.

"Oh?"

"For saving my life."

Mavra pointed her fork at herself and raised an eyebrow.

"Unless there's another Arcadian pilot in Cheltain."

"No other." Ah. "The Nimbus under attack by Sabres ....You were pilot?"

Gwen nodded. "So ... thank you."

"Not so quick to thank. I owe you a ... a sorry. Is that right word?"

"An apology?" Gwen looked surprised. "Why?"

"Fighters waiting for me not you."

"Oh. ... I thought it was unusual to find just two of them lurking like that."

Mavra studied the other woman. There were shadows under the green eyes. She wouldn't be surprised if, head filled with her fiancé's bigotry, Gwen had spent all night worrying that Mavra was going to leap on her. Given the right circumstances, she wouldn't have minded doing just that — Gwen filled out her uniform in all the right places and (Mavra sneaked a glance under the table) her dark blue skirt revealed a pair of shapely calves — but she had been exhausted and anyway she liked her sexual partners not only willing but enthusiastic

"You sleep bad?"

Gwen gaped at her. "Don't tell me it didn't disturb you too? They bombed the factory again last night."

"There was air raid?"

The other woman rolled her eyes then chuckled. "I wish I could sleep that soundly." She pushed her plate aside. "Finish your breakfast. Then we'll get a cup of tea or coffee and you can have a gasper."

"'Gasper'?"

"Don't you smoke?"

"No."

"Me neither. Filthy habit, isn't it? And after that ... Well, it's up to you, really. What would you like to do this morning? ... I've been detailed to look after you while you're here," added Gwen belatedly.

Mavra remembered the whispered conversation from last night. Apparently the ATA pilot had decided to make the best of things. Good girl. " I must be at factory by noon," she said. "Before that I'm told to," she tried to remember the phrase, "lengthen legs?"

"Stretch." Gwen smiled. "I'll get hold of a couple of bikes and we can go for a ride. The countryside is pretty at this time of year and," she glanced out the window, "it's a lovely morning."

"OK." Mavra put down her knife and fork and gave her belly a contented pat. For the first time in ages she felt pleasantly full.

Gwen glanced at the now spotless plate and grinned. "And later we can stop for a cup of tea and a bun."

The sun was warm on Mavra's back as she cycled up the narrow lane behind Gwen, whose shapely backside was proving a distraction from the picturesque countryside. Birds twittered in hedgerows and crickets chirred in flower-dotted banks. It was hard to remember there was a war on, though the occasional bomb crater, vapour trails on the horizon, and Cheltish fighters buzzing overhead provided timely reminders.

A church steeple loomed up ahead and Gwen looked back over her shoulder. "We'll stop at the village for a breather," she called.

Mavra gave her a thumbs up — her calf muscles were aching from the unaccustomed exercise and she would welcome the break. The village comprised a green given over to vegetables; assorted cottages and houses (some cradled in scaffolding, while bomb damage was being repaired); a church with an imposing spire; a pub named the Old Bell; a post office-cum-shop that was doing a brisk trade in postage stamps; and a tea-room known as The Bay Tree. With a screech of unoiled brakes, Gwen dismounted and propped her bike against a hedge. Mavra followed suit.

"You don't have churches in the Republic, do you?" asked Gwen, tucking an unruly strand of fair hair back under her forage cap.

"No." And if we did, they'd be a pile of rubble now. Like everything else.

Gwen headed up the sandy path towards the church entrance, lifted the latch, and pushed open the heavy door. Inside she genuflected then turned to look back at Mavra, who was waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Mavra was glad of her jacket; it was much cooler inside than out.

"Is it true Arcadians don't believe in God?" Gwen's voice had dropped to a reverent whisper.

"Is true." She rubbed her nose. The smell of mould, polish, and candlewax was threatening to trigger a sneeze.

Gwen frowned. "Don't your people believe in anything?"

Mavra considered. "Some did, I think. ... Before invasion." She wondered if anyone outside the Republic realised the extent of the devastation, the fear and desperation that gripped her people as they struggled every day not to go under. If such a thing happened to them, perhaps they too would no longer believe. She shrugged. "Now believe only in one another."

She looked at the stone font, the carved oak panelling, the mouldering tapestries, then turned her attention to the stained glass window at one end of the church. What were the bold, primary colours meant to represent? Was that a whale? And who was that bearded ancient in the long robes? A jagged crack down the window's centre showed that, despite initial appearances, the church hadn't escaped the War entirely.

"But is that enough?" persisted Gwen.

Mavra had lost track of the conversation. "Enough?"

"Belief in one another. At times like these, don't we all need someone ... something ... greater than us to believe in?"

Mavra pursed her lips. Believing in God doesn't make her exist. "Viedens believe in higher power," she said instead.

"They worship a war god!" Gwen's cheeks went rosy with indignation. "Surely you're not comparing us to them?"

"Sorry."

Gwen made a conscious effort to calm down. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault for bringing up religion. I think we'd better agree to disagree, don't you?"

Mavra unravelled that sentence. "OK."

Her companion glanced at their surroundings then back at Mavra. "You're not really interested in this gloomy old place or its history, are you?"

"Is nice."

"You're such a liar!" Gwen grinned to remove the sting from her words. "Now, how about that tea and bun I promised you?"

Mavra smiled. "Better," she agreed.

Mavra prodded the knobbly-looking object on her plate with her forefinger.

"It's a rock bun," said Gwen. "Tastes much better than it looks. Try it."

She did. "Good," she mumbled, round what seemed to be currants. Gwen smiled and took a bite of her bun.

They were sitting at a corner table in the Bay Tree. A shocked silence had met the Arcadian's entrance, and some of the tea-room's customers had made loudly indignant exits. The teashop owner, a motherly woman with kind eyes and chapped hands, had welcomed her with a smile, however, and the remaining customers were contenting themselves with surreptitious glances. Full marks to Gwen. She must mind being seen in my company, but she holds her head high, juts her pretty chin, and carries on regardless.

Gwen became aware of her scrutiny. "What?

Mavra smiled. "Nothing. ... So ... You like ferrying?"

"Most of the time. Though Joan says ATA stands for Always Terrified Airwomen." She chuckled.

"And airmen," added Mavra, remembering the men in the canteen

"We're a women-only pool," corrected Gwen. "The men you've seen around the place are ground staff and ATC cadets."

"Why some missing arm or leg?"

"Oh that's easy. The CAF gets first pick of the able-bodied ones. As for the rest ... some can still fly. They ferry with the other pools, though, or fly taxis."

"Taxis?"

"How else do you think we get back here once we've delivered a plane?"

Mavra took another bite of bun and thought while she chewed. "You flew planes before War started?"

"All of us did. We have to have A licences and several hundred hours in our log books before the ATA will take us on." She leaned forward, green eyes alight. "Ferrying is harder than it looks, you see. We have to be able to fly any aircraft we're given, based on a single test flight and an instruction manual. Single engine or twin; fighters or bombers.... I've flown Nimbuses and Bomfires on just a compass and gyro." She sat back, looking pleased with herself. "There's always a new challenge."

Mavra hadn't considered ferrying from that angle before. Her estimation of the other woman shot up. "Is waste you not allowed fly combat."

Gwen shrugged. "Joan would probably agree with you, but I don't mind, really. Besides, I don't think I could actually kill anyone. Jack says I couldn't, anyway."

"Jack is fiancé?"

Gwen blinked at her. "That's right."

"Set date for wedding yet?"

"Not yet."

"You love him, yes?"

Gwen's cheeks pinked. "We grew up together," she said. "Our families have known each other for ages."

Which doesn't answer the question. Or perhaps it does. Gwen shifted under her gaze. "Jack is wrong," said Mavra.

Gwen looked alarmed. Did she suspect Mavra of eavesdropping on last night's whispered conversation? "About what?"

Wrong for you. "Anyone can kill," she said aloud, "given good enough reason."

A memory rose. Lilya, choking on her own blood, her face grey with pain, eyes full of shock and disbelief... Mavra pushed it away, as she always did, and took a gulp of her tea.

"Perhaps we can." Gwen didn't look convinced. "Anyway, delivering planes is enough for me."

Mavra replaced her teacup in its saucer with a clink. "Soon you will be ferrying Gryphons."

"Is that the plane you were flying yesterday?"

Mavra nodded.

"Strange wing shape. She looks fast. Does she handle easily?"

"At first, too easy maybe. But after while you feel," Mavra searched for the words, "like wings sprout from own shoulders."

"Golly!"

She shrugged. "You see yourself soon."

They talked for a while longer about flying. Mavra had first climbed into a cockpit when she was 14, and so, it turned out, had Gwen. Then she remembered her appointment at the factory, and checked her watch.

"There's plenty of time." Gwen had followed her glance. "I know a short cut back. ... Oh, while I remember. There's a dance tonight. At the Ferry Pool — Jack is taking me. Would you like to go?" She looked apologetic." I'm afraid there's not much else to do in the evenings ... unless you like playing darts in the bar."

Dances here were probably not like those at home, but Mavra loved dancing. "Dancing is good," she said.

Gwen gave a satisfied nod. "That's settled then."

"It says in your specifications," said a bespectacled little man with pockmarked cheeks, "that the Gryphon's maximum speed is 430 miles per hour. That can't be right! Even the Vieden Sabre can only manage 407, and that's the fastest thing in the sky."

"Was fastest," contradicted Mavra. "Gryphon fastest now. Have flown at 430 myself."

The men seated around the table, all except Harry Green, exchanged sceptical glances. "With respect, Lieutenant. Perhaps your air speed indicator was inaccurate?" suggested one with shaggy hair and 5-o'clock shadow. There was little respect in his tone.

From the start Green's boffins had gone out of their way to denigrate the Gryphon. They seemed incapable of believing that Arcadians, of all people, could come up with a better design. Anyone would think they didn't want to gain advantage of the skies. She ground her teeth. I could be cycling with Gwen in the sunshine instead of cooped up in this dingy, smoke-filled office with these idiots. The pilot had said she would be catching up on chores like laundry and letter-writing this afternoon; she would probably welcome the distraction. But even as Mavra thought wistfully of Gwen, she knew she wouldn't give up on her mission just yet. She owed it to her countrymen.

She glared at her tormentors. "Weight much lighter. Engine has more horse power. Also shape much more streamlined than Sabre. See?" She stabbed the diagram spread out on the table with her index finger. "Here, here ... and here. Result: faster than Sabre ... or any Cheltish plane." It couldn't hurt to remind them of their inadequacies. "Do own tests if not believe." She brought her hand down on the table, the loud slap making them jump.

"We certainly intend to —" began 5-O'clock Shadow.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen." The scrape of Green's chair as he stood up brought instant silence. "This won't do. It really won't. The Lieutenant took a huge risk getting both her plane and her specifications to us, so let's not waste a valuable opportunity by creating obstacles where none exist." He threw her an apologetic glance. "After all, there's little to be gained from doubting her word or that of the Gryphon's designers but a lot, and I stress a lot, to be lost."

Expressions around the table became sheepish, sul. or obstinate. Like scolded children.

"When the first Gryphon rolls off the production line," continued Green, stroking his moustache," we will of course expect you to conduct tests. The question of maximum speed can be resolved then. We do have concrete evidence, however, that Vieden fighter losses over Arcadia have increased significantly since the Gryphon's introduction. Which speaks for itself, wouldn't you say?"

That observation got him a few grudging grunts of agreement.

"In the meantime ... The Lieutenant's time here is limited and we must take full advantage of it. If the Gryphon's specs are unclear, ask her if she can clarify them. Those of you writing the pilot notes, take advantage of her expertise. ... Ask your questions now, gentlemen, don't leave them until it's too late. All right?" He sat down, and for a long moment no one spoke.

"Point taken," said Pockmark, pushing his glasses up his nose and training his short-sighted gaze on her. "In that case, Lieutenant, I have a question..."

Mavra sighed and wished it was time for the dance. Mavra stopped just inside the canteen door. The room had undergone a transformation since supper. Someone had strung bunting from the light fittings, and the chairs and tables had been stacked to one side, revealing quite a decent-sized dance floor. On the polished linoleum, uniformed couples were dancing to big band music. In several cases, the partners were both women — the presence of male guests had not altered the ratio of men to women by much. She looked round for the source of the music and saw a record player perched on the food counter.

"I forgot to ask," said Gwen, beside her. "Are you familiar with Cheltish dances?"

Mavra was watching the dancers' feet; the steps to this particular number looked complicated. She shrugged. "I pick up steps quick."

"Hello." They turned to find Joan beaming at them. "Isn't this the bee's knees?" She gestured at the bunting then turned back to Gwen. "Where's Jack?"

"Late."

"Typical! He'll probably turn up squiffy too, the stinker," murmured the redhead. Gwen frowned.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance," came a male voice.

Mavra glanced round. It was the pimply young cadet who had blocked her path at breakfast. He hadn't grown any taller during the day, and Gwen and Joan exchanged an amused glance. Mavra ignored them. A dancing partner is a dancing partner.

"OK. But watch toes," she warned him. His ear tips went pink with pleasure. "I not know steps yet."

"It will be an honour to teach you," he said gallantly, spoiling the effect by adding, "Besides, these shoes have reinforced toes."

Mavra hadn't been lying when she said she was a quick study. She only stamped on the cadet's feet twice (he winced but soldiered on), and by the dance's end, heads were turning to watch her, and not just because she was the only Arcadian in the room. When the cadet, whose name was Archie, bowed and walked away, he was floating six inches off the ground. After that, Mavra didn't lack for dancing partners. Gwen and Joan had stood watching from the sidelines, until a man asked Joan to dance and she accepted. Gwen too had her chances, but she declined them all. Mavra thought it a waste.

"Still no Jack?" Mavra was taking a breather after a vigorous number that had left her partner wheezing and red in the face.

"No," said Gwen. "I don't know what's keeping him."

"Unexpected mission?" He was a flier with the CAF, apparently.

The ATA pilot shook her head. "He's got a 24-hour pass. More likely he's popped in for a quick one with the chaps and lost track of the time."

"Quick one?"

"You know. A pint. Of beer."

"Oh." Standing up his fiancé in the process? The skunk.

"At least you're enjoying yourself." Gwen gave Mavra an envious glance. "You dance really well." She seemed surprised, and Mavra wondered what the Cheltish thought Arcadians usually did for entertainment.

"There are plenty who would dance with you," she said, gesturing towards the dance floor.

"Jack wouldn't like it."

"Bugger Jack!" Green eyes widened, and Mavra wondered if she had used the word wrong. "Is not right expression?"

"Well, it is but ..." Gwen's lips twitched.

"Has no right to spoil your fun," continued Mavra. "Dance with someone else." She gestured again. "Or with me."

Gwen blinked at her. "You?"

"Why not?" She pointed at the same sex couples. If every woman had to wait for a man to ask her to dance, she could wait forever.

"I don't know."

"I am good dancer, yes?"

"Well, yes. ... But you would have to lead."

"OK. I lead. Must not be too difficult." Mavra held out her hand. "Come." She was not going to take no for an answer. After a moment, Gwen sighed and let her lead her out onto the dance floor.

Things were a little stiff at first, but eased once they had sorted out whose hand went where and grown accustomed to being at such close quarters. A sweet, floral scent clung to the other woman; Mavra decided she liked it. And once she had proved that she could indeed lead without crushing toes, she felt Gwen relax in her arms. A Quickstep followed a Waltz, which followed a Foxtrot, which followed something called the Dashing White Sergeant. After each ended, fresh partners tried to cut in. The first man wanted to dance with Gwen, but Mavra ungallantly refused to give way.

"Her fiancé not like it," she said, though she didn't give a fig about Jack's feelings. There was nothing she liked better than dancing with a pretty girl (except perhaps making love to that pretty girl) and she was damned if she was going to give way just when she was having fun.

When the next man turned out to want Mavra for his partner, it was Gwen who surprised her. Eyes twinkling, imitating Mavra's broken Cheltish, she said, "Her fiancé not like it." Crestfallen, the would-be dancing partner departed.

"I don't suppose he would, would he?" remarked Gwen with a smile, as they set off across the dance floor once more.

Mavra twirled her around and reversed direction, neatly avoiding a collision with another couple. "She," she corrected, accepting the male dancer's apology with a nod.

Gwen's steps faltered. "You're engaged to a ... a woman?"

"Was." Mavra gave her partner an assessing glance. "Name was Lilya. Dead now."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She fully expected Gwen to tear herself free and march off the dance floor. But Gwen kept on dancing, and after a moment picked up the pace again.

"Is problem for you?" asked Mavra.

"I'm not sure." Gwen's eyes flicked to her face then away again. "I've ... well, I've never met anyone 'that way inclined' before."

Mavra smiled. "Just not know it maybe."

"Things aren't like that in Cheltain."

"Ah. Happen only in 'uncivilised' country, eh?"

Gwen's cheeks pinked. "I didn't say you were 'uncivilised', Mavra."

"Just think it, maybe." Mavra didn't know why she was needling the pilot, except that suddenly it was important to her that Gwen should think well of her.

The music ended and they dropped their arms and stepped back, staring uncertainly at one another. "Perhaps we should sit the next one out," suggested Gwen after an awkward pause.

"OK."

A commotion in the doorway and murmurs of indignation and alarm made Mavra turn. A tall, fair-haired man in CAF uniform was pushing his way through the couples on the dance floor. She recognised him at once from Gwen's photograph. But this time Jack's handsome features were marred by flushed cheeks and a ferocious scowl; he was obviously drunk and in a bad mood.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Mavra's brown uniform, then lowered his head like a bull charging. "Arcadian scum!" He lurched towards them.

"Jack!" Gwen took an involuntary step backwards, and Mavra placed herself between her and her fiancé.

It was obvious there was going to be trouble, and several of the onlookers, including Archie, tried to intervene. Jack was having none of it, though. He swore at those trying to calm him, and thrust them aside, then lumbered towards Mavra, halting only when she stiff-armed in the chest.

"If you've laid so much as a finger on her —" he bellowed, spittle spraying from his lips.

What on earth does she see in him? "Stop shaming Gwen in front of friends," she hissed, then ducked back as a fist lashed out, grazing her cheek.

"Stop it, Jack. You're making a fool of yourself." Gwen stepped round Mavra and laid her hand on her fiancé's wrist. "Let's go outside and cool off."

He shook her off. "Stay out of this, Gwen." There was a mean look in his bloodshot eyes. "This ... degenerate needs to be taught a lesson."

"Jack!"

He took another swing. Mavra seized his wrist, twisted it and used his own momentum against him. She turned him round and forced his arm up behind his back. He cried out and bent forward to ease the pain.

"I say, steady on!" said someone. "You'll break his arm."

Mavra ignored him. "Listen, you." She pressed her lips to Jack's ear. "Want be cripple for rest of life? Make Gwen shudder every time she look at you. Hmm?" She wrenched his wrist higher still between his shoulder blades and he gasped. "Because this 'degenerate' can do that. Will do that if you not back off. Understand?"

His eyes met hers, and what he saw there leached the colour from his cheeks. "I understand. P ... Please. You're hurting me."

"Let him go, Mavra." She glanced round into anxious green eyes. "It's just the beer talking," said Gwen.

Mavra shook her head. "Beer reveal true nature." Gwen opened her mouth to protest then closed it again and simply looked at her in dismay.

Just then, the crowd parted to let through two MPs. "What's all this kerfuffle?" said the first, giving Mavra a frosty look.

"Drunk causing trouble," she said. Several onlookers nodded and voiced their agreement, and the MPs' demeanour towards her thawed perceptibly.

"Is that so?"

"Is so." Mavra shoved Jack at them, releasing her grip at the last minute so he stumbled and almost fell into them.

The MPs gripped him by his biceps. "Looks like you've got some sobering up to do. Come on."

As they frog-marched a subdued Jack out of the canteen, someone signalled to the woman in charge of the record player, and seconds later big band music was blaring out once more. But neither Mavra nor Gwen were in the mood for dancing.

"OK?" Mavra asked. A weak shrug was her only answer. "Not your fault," she consoled, but it seemed to make no difference. "Call it a night then? Long flight tomorrow."

Gwen looked if possible even more downcast. "You're going back to Arcadia tomorrow?"

Mavra nodded. "Factory has all it needs. Mission over." Back to cabbage.

"The perfect end to the perfect day."

"What?"

"Nothing." Gwen turned and trudged towards the exit. "OK. Let's call it a night."

The sound of sirens and distant explosions woke Mavra. She sat up and looked around the little room, making out a darker silhouette by the window that must be Gwen peering round the blackout curtain.

"Air raid?" she asked.

"The factory's getting it in the neck again," came Gwen's disembodied voice. "It sounds much heavier tonight."

Mavra got out of bed and went to join her. "Probably is." She peered over Gwen's shoulder and saw irregular flashes of light to the west. "Viedens miss boat. Designs for Gryphon already go to other factories." Gwen turned her head, and Mavra saw the shine of her eyes in the starlight.

"Will they really make any difference?"

"Small, perhaps." Mavra shrugged. "But even small difference can tip balance, save lives."

"I hope so."

They stared out into the night, listening to the bombers droning overhead, the anti-aircraft guns, the spine-chilling whistle of bombs falling. Every few seconds an explosion flashed across the sky, the boom making the window frame rattle.

"I hate this bloody war," said Gwen.

Mavra imagined the hell that must be unfolding at the factory. "Me too." She rested her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders, feeling their warmth through the thin material of Gwen's nightdress. They tensed at her touch then relaxed.

"Not making advances," said Mavra, just to be clear.

"I know. Sorry." Gwen took a breath, then half-turned and leaned into her, tucking an arm around Mavra's waist. "I'm sorry Jack attacked you and called you names."

"Why? Not your fault."

"No, but ..."

"Not going to marry him now, eh?"

The silence stretched, and Mavra had almost given up on an answer when Gwen said, "Not after tonight."

"Straw that broke horse's back?"

"I think you mean camel's —"

There was a deafening boom, and one of the window panes popped free of its putty and flew past them. Seconds later came the sound of glass shattering somewhere in the room.

"Get back!" She pulled Gwen away from the now draughty window, felt the bedstead against the back of her knees, and sat them both down on it.

"Must have been a stray." Gwen sounded shaky.

Mavra draped an arms around her shoulders. She could feel the other woman trembling. "OK?" she asked, concerned.

"That was too close for comfort." Gwen pulled Mavra's arm tighter around her. After while, her trembling stilled and she sighed with relief. "Better. Thanks."

"Welcome." How could Mavra distract her from the bangs, crashes and malevolent whistles going on outside? They had been talking about Gwen's ex-fiancé, hadn't they? "About Jack," she said. "No loss. His type not love women, only own them."

Gwen let out a groan. "How could I have been such a fool?"

"Understandable. Family had expectations."

"Oh God! I'd forgotten about them. How on earth am I going to break the news? They'll be devastated."

"Will get over it."

"Are you always this pragmatic?"

"Try to be." Mavra shrugged. "Not always succeed."

Silence fell between them then Gwen said tentatively, "Did you ... love her?"

Mavra blinked then realised who she was referring to. "Lilya? ... Yes."

"How long since she ..."

"Since Viedens killed her? Three years next month." She paused. "You remind me of her ... little."

"I didn't think Arcadians had fair hair."

"Not hair colour. Or eyes — hers grey not green. She was taller too."

"Everyone's taller," grumbled Gwen.

"More her manner, attitude. And both of you have —" Mavra sketched an hourglass shape with her hands and grinned.

Gwen blinked at her then looked away. "It feels odd to hear a woman talking about me like that!"

"Not like it?"

"It's not that. I just ..."

Mavra chewed her lip. "Feel uncomfortable?"

"A little." Gwen threw her an apologetic glance.

"Trying to compliment not make feel uncomfortable. Stop now."

Gwen gave her a confused look. "Thanks ... I think."

"Welcome."

Silence fell again, but it was a comfortable one and they sat in the dark, drawing simple warmth and comfort from each other's presence, until Mavra realised that the steady drone of aircraft had stopped, and so had the Ack-Ack. Moments later came the discordant wail of the All-Clear.

"Bombs stop," she said, yawning.

"Sounds like it." Gwen disentangled herself, reluctantly it seemed to Mavra. "We should try to get some sleep. ... You've got a long flight tomorrow, and I'm back on ferrying."

"OK." Mavra rose, stretched, and moved towards her own bed, feeling her way with care — she was barefoot and the last thing she wanted was to tread on a splinter of glass. She banged her shins on the chair, the table leg, and the bed but eventually made it in one piece.

As she pulled the sheets and blanket over her, she said through a yawn. "Good dreams, Gwen."

"You too," came the drowsy reply.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=645 ... yphon.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 17 ruj 2012 20:12

bračno zlostavljanje...uzimanje droge...svijet filma

~ After the Curtain Falls ~
by Beth Dragon & Kathleen Wolf

Thea finished her baileys, placing the glass lightly on the table. Rae watched the younger woman's actions and finished her own drink. Subtly she motioned to the waiter to bring another drink for them both, while still giving the actress her full attention.

"So…" Thea smiled lightly. "What does a girl like you do for fun?"

"Fun?" The lighting technician laughed, finding the fact that she had to think about it funny in itself. "I find anything fun, as long as you have the right company with you."

"The right company?" She sat forward a little, the reply catching her attention. "Come on Rae, what are you keeping from me? Who is that special someone?"

"There isn't anyone, Thea that's why I had to think about the question. In some ways I can't remember the last time I had 'fun'." The technician continued laughing. "There's been so much work with the play and everything I've had very little free time."

"For goodness sake then girl, get one of those hunks that you boss around all the time to show you a good time." Thea had listened carefully to what Rae was saying and couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. Rae coughed and spluttered a little as the words left the actress's mouth. Undaunted she continued. "I'm serious, someone like you should be being paraded around on someone's arm not going to bed at ten with a hot chocolate and a copy of the lighting directors' manual."

"Let's just say I'm very particular." She offered an explanation. "And the men on my crew, while being great eye candy are not what I'm looking for." Thea grinned instantly and Rae looked at her slightly confused as to what could have made her react in such a way.

"Ah, so you have an image, an idea to fill and you are indeed looking."

The waiter placed two glasses of Baileys on the table, nodded to them and slipped away. Thea took hers instantly and sipped it. She then looked towards the waiter and raised her eyes to Rae. Knowing what the actress was suggesting, the technician shook her head as she took her own glass.

"I may be looking, but give me some credit." Rae sipped her drink. "For me it's all about the feeling, the connection, the chemistry."

"Hearing you loud and clear." Thea had to nod her approval at this, it was a philosophy that she agreed with. "But you could always use one of those." She hesitated before using the unfamiliar term. "Eye-candies to help you find what you are looking for."

Their conversation was interrupted again as another waiter placed their food on the table. Rae watched as the waiter neatly performed his job and then moved away.

"I don't like wasting anymore time, not for the sake of it. I believe the right person will come along without me spending my time distracting myself." She picked up her napkin and laid it on her lap. The actress did likewise, but her attention wasn't focused on the food.

"But Rae, you aren't going to meet anyone sat in bed reading your directors magazine are you? Have you thought about cutting your hours and working less? You know giving yourself time."

"When the productions finished I'm going on a vacation I haven't picked where yet." Rae replied honestly pleased that the young actress was taking such an interest.

"I can't remember the last time I had a vacation." Thea nodded and spoke with a distant look in her eye. She shook her head a little to bring herself back to the point.

"And besides." Rae continued. "You never know who might come along in the meantime."

"Oh really." Thea stated. "Who do you honestly think you are going to meet whilst drinking cocoa at ten thirty?"

"Boy!" Rae laughed tightly. "I'm starting to sound really pitiful from your description."

"I didn't mean for it to sound that way." Thea suddenly became worried that she'd upset her new friend. "I could be jealous."

"Jealous of me and my cocoa?" Rae asked with a slight frown.

"In England." She commented, distractedly eating her calamari. "That would be called a leading question."

"Would it, how so?"

Thea turned her focus from Rae to the window; suddenly realising she wasn't sure she wanted to follow this avenue of questioning much further as she was sure that an embarrassed blush was already beginning to spread up her neck.

"How's your food?" Thea attempted to reach an area of neutrality.

"It's good." Rae smiled at the change in topic, but unlike the actress it was not a subject she was willing to let go so easily. "So am I going to get an answer?"

"To what?" The actress took an innocent and ignorant approach.

"To my question." Rae tried to catch the actress' eye.

"Question?"

"About my cocoa." Rae reminded her. Thea sighed gently knowing now that she wasn't going to get out of this. "How could my question be viewed as leading?"

"Well, it could be taken as one of two questions. First, whether you were asking me if I would be jealous of having a warm bed and a home to go to, or second you could have been asking if I was jealous of your cocoa, the thing that you shared your bedtime with. Wouldn't you have say the latter of those two could be classed as leading, or am I simply taking it out of context?"

Rae listened to the actress' reasoning, watching the way sparkles glittered in the young woman's green eyes.

"I suppose the later would have been the subtext of my statement." Rae admitted after much contemplation.

"Subtext?" Thea whispered almost silently. She fixed her gaze on the dark woman sat opposite her, not wanting to move her eyes away from the blue crystals that drew her in like a moth to a bright flame. "I think this conversation is straying." She whispered. "Don't you?"

"We mustn't let it do that now must we?" Rae met the actress's gaze.

"Probably not." Thea's voice trembled a little. Still unable to break the gaze, she reached out and found her glass to take a drink.

"If you don't want it to, we won't let it." Rae reassured her. The last thing she wanted to do was make her companion uncomfortable, though she too was unable to break the contact between them.

"Rae." She said quietly as she laid the glass back down. "Out of interest, have you heard rumours at the theatre?"

"Honestly, no." Rae took another drink and shook her head. "And even if I had, I don't listen to them. Whatever is being said is just theatre talk and we both know what trash that is."

Thea managed to break their eye contact as she placed her fork back on the plate and pushed it away. She picked up her glass and gently swirled the baileys and the ice together in an anti-clockwise direction.

"You shouldn't play with fire Rae." She whispered.

"I play with it all the time." Rae met her warning with strength and conviction. "And I turn it into a beautiful light."

"Don't you get burnt?" The actress dared to re-meet Rae's gaze.

"If you respect the fire, the fire will respect you." Rae replied her gaze unflinching.

"Shouldn't we be getting back? Thanks to me you've still got lights to hang." Thea turned away and glanced at her watch, shaking her hair out as she stretched her arms.

"I'm the boss, I go back when I'm ready." Rae could sense that though the actress wanted to run away from this situation she also wanted to face it. "Tell me about the rumours." Her low voice asked.

"I ...I ... I can't." Thea blustered.

"Yes, you can. Tell me."

Something about Rae's tone and posture made Thea question her own reluctance.

"Let's just say, I don't think anyone would tell you to ask me for help in finding Mr Right." A smile spread across Rae's face. She watched the older woman and frowned gently. "A smile is an interesting response. I've never had that one before."

"Who said the right person always has to be a Mr?" Rae replied, still smiling.

Thea watched her face for any signs of mockery or falseness. She found none. She let the corner of her mouth turn up into a smile.

"No one." She whispered. "Well." She said contemplatively. "That's not true. Bigots, prudes, the government, parents, my shrink, Christians, Jews, Hindus, Muslims. Should I stop?"

"Please do!" Rae said still smiling. "Lets just say I'm not one of those people and never have been. I'm not one of the majority."

"You're right." Thea agreed softly. "You're not and its nice to find someone balanced enough not to be horrified."

"No reason to be horrified." She admitted eating a bit of her dinner and taking another drink with a shrug. Her reward was a bright, honest smile.

"Thank you, Rae. And I hope that when you meet Mr. Right that I at least get an invitation to the wedding." The actress nodded to her.

"Now when exactly did I say I was looking for a Mr. Right?" Rae took another drink, her smile broader than before.

"Earlier, don't you remember?" Thea pointed out not wanting Rae to feel uncomfortable about looking for a partner since the revelation.

"No, I think I said I was looking for the right person." Rae's grin was incorrigible. "I never specifically said that person was to be a man."

"Well..." Thea stopped, realising she had been foolish and as closed-minded as all those people that she detested. "You didn't. I'm sorry."

"No need to be." Rae brushed the matter aside. "I never gave any indication either way."

"Can I ask you a question?" Thea finished her drink and met Rae's eyes once more.

"Of course."

"So is it a Miss, a Mr or either that you are looking for?" Thea had no idea if Rae would respond to such a personal question, but it didn't seem like she had anything to lose.

"I am quite sure I have had my share of Misters so I think it would be a Miss." Rae seemed to contemplate the question for a moment, before speaking.

"Whoever you find." She spoke from her heart. "Will be very lucky."

"No." Rae contradicted with a warm smile of her own. "I'll be the lucky one."

"What makes you say that?" Thea asked, surprised by this answer. So far the lighting director had come across as a strong, confident woman and this sentence seemed more retiring.

"Cause I'm crazy." Rae laughed. "It'd take a miracle to find someone to put up with me."

"I don't know about that, you don't seem crazy to me." Thea commented her mind busy loving the sound of Rae's laughter.

"Yeah." Rae eyes sparkled. "But you're as crazy as I am."

"And to think I was just beginning to enjoy your company!" Thea spoke with an air of mock offence

"Many apologies I meant to say that only Techies are crazy." Rae pointed to her head. "It's all that hanging upside down in high places, blood flow to the brain and everything."

"It's funny, but I kinda like that about you." Thea laughed.

"That I'm crazy? Or that I hang up side in high places?" Rae's right eyebrow arched high in question.

"Both." Thea said simply. The two women's eyes met once more and neither turned away. "You have great eyes, do you know that?"

"Thank you." Rae was surprised that the first compliment had come from Thea. "That's an interesting observation, considering I bet you have never given me a second glance until today when you decided that you were lit wrong."

"Don't believe it." Thea whispered her eyes softening under Rae's continuing look. "I've noticed you." The last word Thea said was in the quietest tone she could manage. "Lots."

"That surprises me, especially since you're the one who is lit so well, while I'm the one who lurks in the shadows."

"I'm one of those strange people." The actress shook her head. "Bright lights tend to hide who I really am."

"I didn't say the lights I saw you under were bright." Rae whispered.

"Just like I don't see you in shadow." She whispered back.

"You don't?" Rae questioned.

"Rae." She narrowed her eyes and looked deeply into the blue orbs that focused upon her. "Are you playing with me?"

"Playing?" Rae queried, raising a finger to her lips as she thought. "No, no playing here. So tell me, just what have you noticed?"

"I know that on the set they call you O'Keefe: that you never touch tea or coffee: that you get your sandwiches brought to you every day and that you keep a black jacket hung on your scaffold and you never put it in your locker." She was aware that she had an impressive list of details regarding the lighting technician. "Want to hear more?"

"Go ahead, really impress me." Rae was stunned, but intrigued.

"Okay, I know that when you are on the set you listen to Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan on your stereo. You have a cell phone with you at all times, but it is never turned on. You have the nicest Canadian accent I have heard since being here and I know that though you try to hide it, you are a kind, warm and loving person." She paused for a moment studying the object of her previous observations. "I know that you play with the lace of your boots sometimes and I know that when you are getting cross you pull at the front of your shirt. Enough?"

"Yes. I'm quite red enough thank you." Rae was right her whole face was red.

"Oh and I forgot to mention what a lovely colour you go when you are embarrassed." Thea was pleased that she had managed to impress the dark haired woman with her observational skills.

"All I can say is that as you must have been watching me so much, how did you miss the fact that I have spent the last four months watching you?" Rae decided that she had to recover quickly to maintain some element of pride.

This statement took a little of the wind out of Thea's sails. She leaned forward and brought her elbows to rest on the table leaning her head in her cupped hands.

"You're the lighting director." She whispered somewhat cheekily. "You're supposed to notice me."

"You're right but oh so wrong!" Rae picked the short plastic stirring stick out of her baileys glass and twirled it in the fingers of her left hand.

"Wrong?" Thea laughed. "I don't think so."

"Afraid so." Rae replied. "It is my job to notice the star and to make sure she is lit the best she can be, but I meant that I watch you."

"I still don't believe I'm wrong." The comment came close to throwing Thea but instead she decided to rise to the challenge.

"Really?" Rae bit the corner of her lip as she thought. "For example, is it you or 'The Star' who takes her water with lots of ice?"

"Me." She blinked before mouthing the small word. The statement having caught Thea's attention.

"You or your character who spends so much time scribbling poetry on the corners of your script under the pretence of making stage notes?"

"Me again." A cautious smile spread across Thea's features as Rae continued.

"You or her that comes in early on rainy mornings just to stand in the front hall watching the rain splash onto the sidewalk? You or her who brings bread crumbs for the birds in the park across the street?"

"Me." She whispered amazed and somewhat uneasy. How had she missed Rae watching her? "How do you know these things?"

"And is it you or your character who has that beautiful smile that I can see right now?"

"Definitely me." Thea replied giving her a perfect example of a stunning smile.

"Just know that you've been noticed." Rae turned her attention back to playing with the stick that she had now placed on the tabletop and was twirling round in varied circles. Thea lifted her head off her hands as Rae spoke once more. "Actually I have a confession to make."

"A confession?" Thea reached out her hand and caught the end of the stick with her finger to halt its course.

"You remember the second week of rehearsal when everything was going wrong and everyone was at their wits end." Rae continued, waiting briefly for confirmation that she did.

"Oh boy do I remember." Thea watched for any movement of retreat in Rae's hand, but the lighting technician kept a firm hold on her end of the short plastic stick. Letting a smile cross her face Thea moved her fingers up the stick, just a little.

"Well, despite taking credit for them." Rae took a deep breath before continuing. "The orchids you received weren't from Michael."

"They weren't?" Thea realised that she had been staring at their hands rather than her usual focus noting that the two were only millimetres apart by now. She flicked her eyes back up to meet Rae's. "You?" She questioned.

"Just wanted to make you smile." The technician shrugged.

Thea was pleased to see for the first time during the conversation Rae acutely appeared the less confident of the two. Keeping her eyes focused on her, she let her fingers creep up the stick until they touched Rae's fingertips.

"Thank you." She breathed, almost silently

"I... I just wanted to make your day better." Rae stumbled over her words slightly. She was unable and unwilling to move her hand as Thea touched her.

"You succeeded so well. Why do you put down what you did? It was a beautiful thing to do. Orchids are my favourite flower." Feeling completely confident and in charge, Thea boldly moved her hand up to cover Rae's as completely as she could. She felt the soft warm skin beneath her palm and closed her fingers over the technician's hand just slightly. "Again I thank you." She whispered.

"It was just a guess, the orchids that is." Rae gave an innocent smile. "You're welcome." She added in a soft whisper of her own. Thea increased the pressure on Rae's hand briefly

"Do you want to leave now?" She asked as Rae glanced down to where their two hands met.

"I could stay like this for ever." Rae answered feeling the temperature in her hand increase and her heart rate quicken just slightly.

"But there are too many people here who crowd your style." Thea grinned, noticing the same changes within herself. "There must be a park nearby."

With her free hand, Rae delved in her pocket. Pulling out some money, she put it onto the table. All without breaking the contact between their hands.

"Shall we?"

Thea merely nodded and though she didn't want to she realised that she had to break the contact to get her jacket. She watched Rae glance at their hands and then at her jacket as she also worked out that the contact had to be broken. The actress reluctantly slipped her hand away and reached behind her. Rae began the slow walk to the door as Thea put her jacket on and retied her scarf. Rae opened the door and stood holding it as the other woman slipped out. As soon as Thea felt the door close behind her she shivered briefly. In a quick turn against the wind her eyes fell on the woman dressed only in a T-shirt and she then remembered that Rae hadn't even brought a coat. She threw the lighting technician a look of concern, which was met with a broad smile, enough to assure her that Rae in no way felt the cold.

"I really don't want to go back to the theatre." Thea turned back into the wind. "I'd like to walk for a while. There must be somewhere nearby."

"I think there's a park just down a block and then over." Rae thought for a moment and then answered as she motioned into the distance with her hand.

"That sounds great." Thea began to walk down the street. "This way?"

"Yep." Rae hurried to catch up with the smaller woman.

"So, have you always lived here in this part of Canada?" Thea asked as she walked, glancing at the houses and shops that they passed. She watched the cars as they streaked passed at what appeared to be an alarming speed. " We don't really have to cross the highway do we?" She added.

"Yes, I have always lived in southern Ontario." Rae glanced at the traffic. "And no we don't. We take an easy right just here."

"Oh right, that's okay then." Thea continued her examination of the scenery when she suddenly pointed and turned to Rae with a squeal. "Oh is that the park?"

"Looks like it." Rae's attention was on the young strawberry blonde and not on the park in the distance. Thea chose that moment to turn and glance at her companion and with a smile she saw the raven head turned in her direction.

"You're not even looking at the park." Thea laughed.

"Sure I am." Rae grinned, taking a glance up towards the park and then looked right back at the actress. Thea gave a brief sigh and turned her attention back to the park.

"Come on, I want to see the trees." With a light laugh she ran on ahead her hair blowing in the wind. Rae watched her for a moment before she began to chase.

"Trees!" Thea exclaimed as she stood just outside the entrance. She held her hands out to the side and tipped her head back into the wind.

"Lots of trees." Rae whispered as she approached her from behind.

Thea heard the other woman approached and stood very still. She lowered one of her hands to her side and then reached back with it just a little. Rae moved forward and slipped her hand forward so that it came to rest against Thea's. Moving very slowly, Thea spread her fingers and interlocked them with Rae's, giving her time and space to pull away at any moment. The taller woman did not pull away, in fact she held the smaller hand gently. Unbeknownst to Rae, Thea smiled as she pulled her own hand forward to see if Rae would move with her. Rae willingly let herself be led, as the young actress stepped backwards and drew the lighting director's hand and arm around her waist. For a moment she waited to see if the technician would make any move. To Thea's delight Rae slipped her other arm around Thea's waist and pulled her close.

"Oh God." Thea whispered as she felt the heat of Rae's body on her back, and her warm breath through the wisps of blonde hair that escaped her ponytail.

Responding to the whisper, Rae held the actress tighter and closed her eyes. Thea leaned into the embrace and closed hers as well. The two remained standing this way for some moments until the shout of "Brandy!" made Thea open her eyes and release Rae's hand. Thea focused instantly on an old woman that walked passed once again calling for her dog. Even with her eyes closed, Rae felt the tension seep into the body she held and then with a slight frown she recognised the gentle shaking of Thea's shoulders that told the technician that she was crying.

"What's wrong?" Rae whispered as Thea made a small step forward to make the taller woman release her.

"I'm sorry Rae." She breathed through her tears.

"Why?" Rae asked confused.

"I... that... sorry." Thea began to walk away.

Rae stood motionless for a moment, trying to work out what had happened before she realised that Thea was gaining ground. She hurried to catch up and in fact overtake the young actress, turning her body she began to walk backwards, trying to see the woman's face.

"Why sorry?"

Thea continued walking her head firmly down until she suddenly seemed to run out of steam and she stopped.

"Please talk to me." Rae pleaded in a small, almost frightened voice.

"You don't want to do this with me Rae, you don't want to get involved." She looked up with tears streaking her pale cheeks

"Don't I?" Rae questioned looking confused. "Something in here is telling me that this is the most worth while thing in the world." She put her hand over her heart. Thea reached out a trembling hand and rested it on the sleeve of Rae's shirt.

"I... I... I am not a good person to do this with." The actress's voice was unsteady. "There is someone out there for you, someone good and true. I..." New tears spilled onto Thea's checks. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." Rae was beginning to panic as she felt the young actress begin to slip away from her. "You are the most good and honest person that I have ever met."

"I am not." Thea said simply.

"I don't believe that and I don't see that." An edge had developed in Rae's voice.

"Oh Rae." She reached out a trembling hand and rested it, its palm cupping Rae's cheek. As the small fingers touched the soft flesh, Thea was surprised to find Rae's skin cold.

For the first time since she had taken flight, Thea met the other woman's eyes. Rae held them, trying to show that whatever the younger woman was thinking was irrelevant to the present. For a moment Thea forgot why she was objecting and she brought her other hand up to caress Rae's other cheek. The dark haired beauty remained silent, her only thought was that perhaps she had been given a chance to prove that this moment was right. She felt the slight tremble of Thea's hands and could see the struggle behind the green eyes. Though for Rae there was no question any longer. Thea lost in the moment, closed her eyes and pulled Rae's face gently towards her. Tilting her head, she lightly placed her soft warm lips over Rae's, breathing in deeply through her nose. Rae's eyes closed in ecstasy as one of Thea's hands moved from her cheek to her neck, pulling her close and the other slid over her shoulder and came to rest at Rae's waist. The taller woman slipped her hands around Thea's slight waist and held her even closer. Thea gently, with the tip of her tongue began to tease Rae's lips. A soft moan escaped from Rae as she parted her own, just a little. Thea moaned also as she began to explore Rae's mouth. For a moment Rae fought her growing feelings of passion until she relaxed herself and began an exploration of her own. Willingly Thea surrendered to her touch as she moved her own hand up under the taller woman's shirt. Rae gently rested one hand on the back of Thea's neck to hold her as she depended the kiss even more, while the other found its way down Thea's body to draw light circles upon her stomach. Thea felt her world centring in on passion and need. Her mind was filled with the taste of Rae's mouth, the smell of her skin.

"Oh Rae." She breathed. "I need you." The hunger was evident in her voice, but she could not even begin to control it.

Neither could Rae as when the kiss was stopped she continued only this time focusing on the soft flesh behind Thea's ear. Thea tilted her head, allowing Rae further access.

"I need you more than anything." She whispered her hot breath on Thea's ear as she continued to gently kiss and suck the soft skin below.

"Rae, we should stop." Thea made an attempt to control her raging emotion.

"Do you really want to?" Rae placed feather kisses along Thea's jaw line before stopping to draw them eye to eye almost lip to lip.

"No." Thea admitted, roughly meshing her mouth with Rae's kissing her deeply almost brutally. Rae growled in response, but pulled back.

"I want you so badly, but not here." Rae panted, trying to clear her mind to think.

Thea looked up, panicked for a moment, before realising that indeed Rae was right. Here they were in a park, kissing like teenagers.

"Is your room far, it will take ages to get to my house?" Her breath still short, as although Thea had stopped kissing her the young woman's hands still touched her body. It was as if Thea realised she was causing a problem so she stilled her hands, coughed lightly and pulled away.

"My hotel is right next to the theatre. We could take a cab, no one would know." Thea suggested her heart pounding, her temperature souring. "All I know is that we have to get out of here. Now!" The flames of her desire were obvious, as was the fire that raged within Rae's body.

"Lets go then." Rae instantly agreed. She took the young strawberry blonde's hand and pulled her back towards the park entrance. "It will only take a second to get a cab." Rae's voice betrayed the emotion she felt, trembling slightly on the words, she was so glad they were in the city and that a cab would be relatively easy to get.

Thea was intensely aware of the heat her body was generating, and she knew that Rae could feel it too, as she held the other woman's hand tightly. Thea looked blindly at the road in front of her, her eyes seeing, but not focusing on the traffic.

"I..." Thea began but her voice faltered "Can you get it?" Rae heard her plea and shook her head a little to clear her mind. She raised her hand and motioned to a passing cab. It pulled over into the side street to meet them.

"Your chariot awaits." Rae said as she reached out to open the door, not once letting go of the small hand she held. Thea threw her a simple smile as she climbed into the hot vehicle.

"To..." Rae stopped and looked at Thea, suddenly aware that she had no idea where the young star was staying. Thea knew why the lighting director was staring at her, but her mind was completely blank.

"The hotel...." She whispered "On..." Her look turned to one of desperation, the name of her hotel lodged somewhere in the back of her mind firmly out of reach. "The street with the theatre." She whispered more to herself than anyone else.

The cab driver glanced in his rear view mirror at his two passengers, a smile pulled at his lips. He could not help but notice the blush in the young woman's cheeks, or the fact that the older of the two was not shivering despite the chill in the air.

"A hotel on Front?" Rae asked gently hoping that this would jog Thea's memory. Carefully she racked her own mind about hotels in that area. "The Royal?" She tried the first one that she remembered.

"Yes." Thea breathed thankfully as the name registered in the recesses of her brain.

"The Royal York it is." The driver nodded to the girls as flicked on his metre and pulled from the side street into the main highway.

"Now I know why the lighting budget is so pitiful." Rae laughed lightly. "If Damien is putting you up in the Royal I am surprised we are getting paid at all." The second statement was whispered in Thea's ear. She could tell from the slight movement of Thea's head that she wanted to look at her, but that she wasn't letting herself. Though her comment did make a gentle laugh escape the young woman's lips.

Rae took a deep breath enjoying the sweet laughter. She was surprised to note that her breathing still hadn't returned to its usual rhythm and she also knew from a quick glance at Thea that the young woman was fighting a similar battle of control. Thea was brought back from concentrating on her battle of control when she heard Rae's deep breath, without thinking she reached out a hand and rested it on the other woman's knee.

"Are you alright?" The question was laced with concern.

"I'm perfect." Rae took the opportunity of Thea moving forward a little, to slip her arm around the actress' back.

"Oh God..." Thea murmured, glancing at Rae wondering if the other woman was aware of the electricity such a simple move had caused. Though this would have been an empty wonder if she had felt the shiver that raced through Rae when she'd touched her knee. Without thinking Rae spread her hand open and ran it down Thea's side.

Thea closed her eyes as Rae's hand went slowly down her side to her waist, though with a short gasp they snapped open again, haunted by visions she did not want to dwell on.

"Oh God..." Thea whispered again

"No God here." Rae leaned forward to talk into Thea's ear once more "Just one Goddess." The lighting director was unable to resist such a statement.

"Rae?" Thea breathed as the other woman moved a little.

"Yes Thea?" Rae replied softly, lost in the other woman's eyes.

"I...." Thea stammered, suddenly losing her train of thought. Rae smiled at her warmly. The lighting director was more than aware of everything that this young woman wanted to say, for she too wanted to say it, but for similar reasons couldn't. She was about to face her feelings and speak when the hotel doorman pulled the cab door open. Rae's head snapped round as Thea jumped forward on her seat.

"That was quick." Rae muttered as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. She pulled a twenty from her pocket and threw it in the general direction of the driver. "Keep the change." She leaned back in to take Thea's hand and help her from the car. Thea did not say a word as she took the offered hand and climbed out of the cab.

"Good evening Miss. Winters." The doorman's words caught the young actress unaware.

"Good evening." She managed to stammer in reply. Rae nodded gently at the young man before moving passed him to open the inner door. Another barrage of "Good Evening Miss. Winters" called to Thea from the front desk, as she walked through the door. Thea glanced at the members of staff, but her mind was busy trying to reign in her feelings.

'Smile and wave.' She said to herself. 'Just smile and wave.'

Rae ignored the staff and concentrated on closing the distance between her and the elevator without stumbling or in any other way embarrassing herself.

"There's a note for you Miss. Winters." A young dark haired receptionist held up a piece of hotel stationery. Thea looked at the girl and then at Rae only to find the lighting director looking at her, waiting for a reaction.

"I'll get it later." Thea said only to receive a happy smile from Rae who was secretly glad that Thea had decided there were more pressing matters at hand than picking up messages.

Thea had indeed almost forgotten about the message as she stopped beside the lift. She reached out to press the call button on the small silver panel before her, but was surprised when instead of cold metal her hand touched warm skin. It was Rae however, that took a sharp intake of breath as their hands touched, suddenly realising in that instant how much she had missed holding that hand for the brief distance from the car to the lobby. Instead of moving her hand away, Thea let hers rest on top of the larger one. The hand soon twisted over underneath the actress' and let their fingers interlock. Thea wondered if Rae had heard the gasp that had escaped from her lips as their two hands entwined.
The computerised bell that announced the arrival of the elevator momentarily broke both women's concentration. The door slid open and a group of businessmen emerged. Rae smiled politely and silently urged them to move away quickly. When they had reached the lobby Rae guided Thea inside. Rae watched as the elevator doors closed and then turned to her companion.

"What floor?" Rae asked.

"Sixth."

Without turning back to the elevator control panel Rae reached behind her and hit the button marked six.

"I thought we'd never be alone again." Rae took a step towards the strawberry blonde actress. Thea's eyes never left Rae's body as she too took a step forwards as the lift began to move. Instinctively her hand reached out to hold Rae's waist. In return Rae's hand moved to gently cup Thea's chin.

With a sudden jolt the elevator stopped. A quick glance told Rae that they were on the third floor. As the doors opened Thea moved back and a chatty family entered the lift. Thea coughed lightly and turned her attention to the veneer on the lift wall whereas Rae nodded politely to the father of the group and smiled at the young boy who was wrapped around his mother's leg. Subconsciously Rae's focus was on the mother and her eyes watched as she reached out and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Thea was watching this episode in the mirror at the back of the lift, a thin smile spread across her face as she saw he frustration in Rae's eyes. Thea continued to watch as Rae put her free hand to her forehead and began to massage it roughly probably wondering how many more interruptions there could possibly be. With a loud ring the elevator announced its arrival on the fifth floor and with another round of polite nods the family departed. Thea raised an eyebrow in Rae's direction as the dark haired woman slid back into her position directly in front of the strawberry blonde.

"Now Rae." She breathed almost silently. "I think this is my floor." She glanced passed the taller woman at the digitised readout and a red six glowed back.

"Oh, right." Rae whispered back as she moved away, but she did not release the hand she had retaken. In fact she pulled on it slightly leading the other woman out through the elevator doors. "Which way?" She looked down both the left and the right hallways. Thea's free hand automatically went to her jacket pocket and found her key-card before pulling gently to the right.

"This way." She whispered.

"Right it is." Rae babbled, not registering her feet moving but instead noticing the dampness between the two connected palms.

"Right here." Thea drew the two of them to a stop.

"621." Rae said the number more to ingrain it on her memory than to clarify. Within seconds Thea had unlocked the door and pushed it open, aware that Rae was watching her every move and seemed to be happy as the door finally opened.

"Please go on in." Thea encouraged.

Rae decided to walk in backwards and gently pulled Thea by the hand into the room so that their eyes never left each other's. Reaching up behind the young actress, Rae pushed the door closed and let it lock itself once more. Thea watched the action with a smile, she could tell that like herself, Rae was eager for things to happen. The two got no further than the doorway when Thea stopped and pulled Rae back towards herself. Rae let herself be led easily and soon the two were stood toe to toe. Without a second thought Thea slipped both arms around Rae's waist as Rae took Thea's head gently in her hands. The dark haired woman lent downwards towards the blonde and closed her eyes. Eagerly Thea closed the meagre distance between the two pairs of warm, waiting lips. Gone was the gentleness and tentative approach of their first kiss. This was more rough, hungry and demanding. As they kissed Rae gently guided Thea back until she was pinned against the door, dropping her hands down she lifted the other woman to equal the height difference between them. Rae felt the shiver cause through Thea's body as it touched the wood of the door and the grip she had became tighter. A small part of Thea's mind screamed out at her to slow down, but her body had more intense and indeed more urgent demands. Rae pushed herself tighter against Thea using only one arm to hold her aloft while the other tried to untuck her shirt. Although Rae was leading here, every synapse within her was searching Thea's movements for any indication that things were going to fast. She did not want to ruin this moment with something as simple as impatience.

"God Rae." Thea hissed as her arms moved up to hold Rae's back, she drew one leg hesitantly around Rae's waist not wanting to trap the other woman, but desperately wanting to eliminate any space between them.

Rae moved her free hand up to the scarf around Thea's neck. With a simple movement and a gently tug the fabric barrier was removed and Rae instantly replaced it with her lips, kissing the exposed collar bone as she moved her hand to Thea's other leg to gently guide it to the option of joining its partner. Without hesitation, Thea moved her other leg round, she could feel the course fabric of Rae's jeans through the fine cotton of her own pants. Using simple motions, Thea kicked off her pumps and crossed her feet at the ankles, effectively entrapping Rae completely. As soon as Rae felt more of Thea's weight being supported around her waist, she moved both hands to Thea's hips and slid them beneath the untucked shirt. She began to gently run them up and down Thea's sides. Almost with a will of their own, Thea's hands tangled themselves in Rae's hair and she breathed a guttural sigh. Rae kissed her way back up to the soft skin behind Thea's ear having obviously decided that she had fallen in love with this small patch of flesh. Delicately she began to draw little circles there with her tongue.
Thea knew that Rae must be feeling the intense heat that was emanating from her body and similarly that Rae would know that Thea wanted to move from here to a place from which there would be no return. As she felt the teasing of Rae's tongue by her ear, she knew that she was lost to this dark haired raven. Rae was trying to think quickly, her head was beginning to spin and it told her to move to somewhere where they needn't worry about standing up.

"Please Rae." Thea's breath was ragged and broken. "The bed."

Rae shifted her hands back under Thea and took the full weight of her soon to be lover in her arms, Thea's statement solidifying the need to move. Thea buried her head into the crook of Rae's shoulder, her lips finding the flesh of Rae's strong neck. As Rae began to walk to the bedroom she cursed the suite that Thea had for being so big and the urgent kissing and attention that Thea paid to her neck made it increasingly difficult for her to walk. Thea was fighting every urge to ravish the supple flesh beneath her lips. But her gentle kisses and licks soon progressed to more wanton movements, resulting in a sharp nip to Rae's neck. Rae had reached the bed by this time and had turned round to sit down with Thea's knees resting on the bed either side of her body.

"Thea!" She growled in gentle warning as she felt Thea's teeth on her neck.

"Sorry." Thea whispered into Rae's ear before biting the lobe there to show that she most certainly wasn't sorry in the slightest.

Rae growled a second time, but did not say a word. Instead she brought her hands up under the back of Thea's shirt needing to feel the soft flesh covered by the thin layer of silk. Thea's hands moved suddenly to the front of Rae's jeans, pushing away the fabric of her top as she sought the denim. But as Rae's hands touched her skin, she arched her back towards the other woman. Rae instant reacted by pressing closer still and kissing the hollow of Thea's throat.

"I can't believe how good you taste." Rae growled as she dipped forward for another kiss. Thea's hands were back at Rae's waist seeking out the metal she knew held a belt in place, when suddenly she stopped. Her hands frozen for a moment before she physically moved back a little.

"Rae, please." She hoped her words would not frighten Rae, but she wanted them to stop the other woman, if only for a moment of clarity.

"I'm sorry." Rae said, suddenly registering the situation. She kept her hands around Thea's back but stopped their motion.

"No, no sorry." She placed a trembling finger gently on Rae's lips. "This is what I want, what I need. I have to know that you feel the same."

For a moment Rae remained silent resisting the urge to kiss the finger that trembled on her lips. The two stayed like that for a moment before Thea's resolve began to falter and she slid the finger that rested on Rae's lips up and across to stroke rich dark hair.

"I want this, I need this." Rae's voice was solid with determination as they locked eyes. "I cannot live without this." The look on Thea's face said she should question the other woman some more, but with Rae's words the last atom of resolve has evaporated. Thea placed both of her hands flat against Rae's chest and pushed downwards with as much strength as she could.

"I can't live without you." Rae added as she let herself fall backwards.

Thea followed Rae downwards, landing with her full weight on top of the other woman, not even thinking to break her fall. Rae reached up and pulled Thea tighter to her, not wanting any space to exist between their two bodies. Thea's hands as if drawn by a magnet, found the belt buckle at Rae's waist and within seconds it was undone. In the meantime Rae slid her hands around to the sides of Thea's shirt silently hoping that there was enough give in the silken fabric to remove it without undoing the buttons. Willingly Thea raised her hands above her head to allow Rae to easily remove the shirt. With the silken garment removed Rae tossed it aside and allowed her hands to touch Thea's bare flesh with abandon. As Thea felt the confines of her shirt discarded, her hands resumed the task they had set themselves. A growl escaped Rae's lips from sheer pleasure of knowing that Thea's hands have resumed their job. Thea grasped the top of Rae's jeans and her hands nimbly unfastened the top button. Swiftly she undid the remaining four buttons in a similar fashion treating them like obstacles that needed to be overcome. Rae pressed her lips to Thea's in a sudden moment of intense passion, her hands began once again to explore the skin of Thea's back coming to rest on the young woman's sports bra. Carefully she felt around the article of clothing assessing in her mind the best way to remove it. With building passion Thea slipped her hands around the back of Rae's now loose jeans, she pushed two fingers through belts loops and pulled gently, hoping that Rae would understand the silent request. Rae willingly arched her back, lifting them both off the mattress. With almost practised ease Thea slipped the denim over perfectly formed buttocks and pushed it down the strong firm thighs. Thea moved her hands back up the thighs and over the rounded cheeks of Rae's ass, not resisting the temptation to squeeze as her hands passed. Rae sighed lustfully as she settled back down onto the bed. With some effort she worked the laces of her boots loose enough that she was able to struggle out of them and kick them off, her mind registering dully the gentle 'thud' as they hit the carpeted floor. Desperation had begun to build within Thea, her hands reached for the cotton top that Rae wore as she pulled it up roughly. She hoped this would be enough for Rae to know this too had to go. Rae concentrated momentarily on removing her jeans, by shaking them down her legs, and she used her feet to remove her socks. Rae then responded to Thea's urgent moves at her top. Thea moved with added vigour and pulled Rae's 'v' neck free in one movement.

'My god.' Thea thought to herself. 'You are beautiful.' She stared at the dark haired beauty that lay all but naked before her. The promise of what lay beneath the two remaining items of clothing almost too much for her to bare. Rae didn't notice Thea's moment of contemplation she was busy, her attention focused on Thea's slacks.

Within an instant the pants were unfastened and Rae pushed the down as far as she could manage. She realised that they wouldn't be removed fully in their current position so instead she turned her attention to exploring the newly uncovered flesh. Rae's fingers stroked every inch of exposed thigh. Then at the gentle curve of Thea's backside, she let her open hands explore the contours and valleys she found. Her fingertip touched the light fabric of Thea's underwear and her mind flashed back to earlier in the theatre when Thea had taunted Michael wearing just these items of clothing. Rae silently thanked whatever was responsible for the honour of being there at this moment in time.

"Rae?" Thea whispered as she felt Rae's fingers at the elastic at her waist, her own hands travelled up the long naked torso to the fastening on Rae's bra.

"Thea?" Rae's response perfectly matching Thea's one in timbre.

"Do you know how much I want you?" She breathed as her hands closed around the plastic catch.

"If it's anything close to how much I want you, then God help us." Rae pushed her fingers under the elastic more. With a simple movement with fabric encircling Rae's chest was broken and with featherweight fingers Thea pushed the offending fabric away. The instant the cotton was removed Thea replaced it with her own hands. Gently she cupped Rae's warm breasts revelling in the feel as the dark haired beauty arched forwards into Thea's exploration.

'God himself could not have prepared me for this.' She thought to herself as her eyes closed in passion.

In that instant Rae decided she needed them both to be equal, she moved her hands around Thea's stomach and guided them upwards.

"Oh shit." Thea breathed as she realised Rae's actions, she arched her back to help the other woman remove the sports bra, which was suddenly feeling more like a cage than an item or clothing. Rae closed her eyes to try and concentrate on her task but instead found herself dizzy from the waves of desire and emotion that crashed down on her. Her hands automatically continued their task, and Thea raised her own hands above her head to make the job easier.

The instant the garment hit the carpeted floor Rae moved to take Thea's weight into her hands, she did not suppress the groan of pleasure as her hands touched forbidden flesh for the first time. Thea reached up behind her own head, her hands finding the clip that held her hair back from her face. Rae continued to massage Thea's breasts totally unaware of the trouble she was causing Thea to have with her hair clip. Thea forgot the hair clip, deciding that if Rae wished to remove it she could do it later. Thea then pushed herself back a little resting her weight back onto her knees, which were straddling Rae's body just below the waist. As Thea moved Rae took the opportunity to remove her bra completely. Comfortable in her sitting back position Thea took one finger and traced a line from Rae's navel up to the valley between her breasts and then she encircled both generous mounds separately. Rae's breath stilled and her body flexed, she was helpless under Thea's touch. Thea continued to trace a line up Rae's throat, over her chin, bringing her finger to rest on Rae's lips. She tapped the lips gently with her fingertip, waiting to see if Rae would accept the request. Without a moment of hesitation Rae opened her mouth. Thea dipped her finger into the warm, wet opening and then drew it out again, slowly she began to circle her hips in time with the dipping of her finger into Rae's mouth. To her delight Rae began to move her hips in an opposing motion to the action. Thea wondered briefly if this interaction was driving Rae as wild as it was herself, but not dwelling on the answer she just continued to move.

"Please Rae." She managed to find a coherent voice somehow. "Make love to me." She begged, the request noticeably increased the strength of her hip movements.

Rae did not respond in words. All words were lost to her at that moment. Instead she sat up and pulled Thea close and kissed her deeply. As she held the lighter woman close she gently guided her over and switched position so that Thea's back was against the mattress and Rae was braced over her. Rae noticed the shiver that ran through Thea as her back hit the cool sheet. The look on her face was enough to tell Rae she was delighted with this last move. She leaned down and kissed Thea quite roughly, her hand reaching down and pulling away the slacks that were now merely in the way. She then graced her hand up Thea's thigh to her stomach. With gentle insistence Thea arched her back beneath Rae, impatient for this to continue. Rae broke the kiss and trailed wet kisses down Thea's neck, across her collarbone and down into the valley between her breasts. Thea squirmed with pleasure at the other woman's touch. With an easy motion Rae tugged slightly on the waistband of Thea's underwear and slowly dragged it from her body. Thea shuddered and Rae drew her close. Thea put her arms around Rae and held her tight. Rae shifted her weight slightly and placed her knee against Thea's body, waiting for acceptance.

"Tell me what you need me to do, please." Rae begged in a hoarse whisper. She truly wanted to know everything Thea desired, so that she may make it happen.

"I want." Thea's voice became lost as her mind whirled at the possibilities that lay ahead. She leaned forward a little and clasped one hand around Rae's right leg, just above the knee. "This here." Thea parted her own legs and drew Rae's up between her own. "And then." A smile played across her lips as Rae looked at her eagerly, pushing her knee forwards a little. "I want you to put your hand." She released Rae's leg and reached out for her hand.

Rae pulled back her knee a little and gave Thea her hand.

"Here." Thea said breathlessly as she placed the hand on top of her left breast.

"Oh there." Rae whispered through a sharp breath. Thea knew that Rae could feel the rapid beat of her heart through the soft flesh that Rae began impulsively to rub and caress.

With this motion started Thea began to move the lower half of her body, rubbing it up and down Rae's thigh. A sudden rush inside Rae caused her to move her leg back against Thea as the young actress writhed on top of it. Thea slipped her other leg round Rae's, effectively encircling it as she crossed her feet at the ankle. Rae moved slightly allowing herself to be trapped. This manoeuvre caused Rae to smile and reward Thea with a deep searing kiss. She responded to the kiss by nipping the end of Rae's tongue, which made the dark haired woman growl a little and push her knee harder against Thea's flesh.

"Have you done this lots before?" Thea asked, panting as her body started to move more rhythmically.

"No." Rae whispered as she nuzzled into Thea's neck. The hand covering Thea's breast started moving in time to the rocking, in response to the increase in Thea's heart rate.

"Good God." Thea cried as she felt the urge building within her. Rae smiled and pulled her leg away, slowing down the motion. Thea glanced at her alarmed.

"What...What are you doing?" She asked as Rae moved to look the strawberry blonde in the eye and then kissed her again. She returned her knee to the place she knew the younger woman preferred and started the rhythm again, only this time faster, harder. Uncontrollably Thea thrust her hips upwards.

"Take me Rae, please." She begged, panting desperately, her juices coating the dark haired woman's leg, leaving Rae no doubt that things were coming to a head. "Please Rae!" She recognised the desperate beg in her own voice as she squirmed uncontrollably against her lover. Rae broke the contact momentarily and began to move down Thea's body making as much flesh as possible touch Thea had no choice but to unlock her legs and spread them open for Rae as she moved lower on the bed.

"If I do anything." Rae kissed her way across Thea's stomach. "You don't like or want." She progressed down lavishing kisses on Thea's slightly bucking hips. "Then just stop me."

The actress just groaned in response, her mind and thoughts losing clarity. Her hands reached down and tangled in thick black hair as Rae settled herself between Thea's legs. Thea's last clear thought before she was lost to an exquisite world of pleasure and sensation was.

'I can never go back.'

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/kathleen_wolf_atcf1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 18 ruj 2012 20:26

pure erotica ....nekako mi to treba momentalno :) a vama ?

~ Pole Dance ~
by Bliss

The mirror was still fogged from the shower, but a hand towel took care of that problem so I could see. Reaching for the product the stylist recommended, I squeezed a dollop the size of a nickel into my palm and worked it into my newly shorn hair. It was a little shorter than I was used to, but with the product in, my cowlicks were tamed, at least for the moment.

The stylist wanted me to color it, but I resisted, leaving alone my reddish brown hair, liberally sprinkled with white. I smiled remembering what the stylist said, "You look like a roan for Christ sake! Let me do something about this white!"

"What's wrong with a little white? And what the hell is a roan?"

"Well nothing if you don't mind looking older than you could. And roan is a color of a horse's coat when there's red or brown mixed with LOTS of white."

"I don't have LOTS of white, its fine…will you just cut it please!"

The cut was great. The sides were feathered back and tapered leaving my ears exposed the bangs and top longer and swept to the side, and the back falling in soft waves to my collar. I liked it. Standing back a bit, I surveyed the effect. The cut kept my hair out of my face, and made my jaw seem less square. My blue eyes stood out more, and my nose didn't seem quite so large. Letting my eyes sweep down over the rest of my reflection, I was pleased. At nearly five feet nine, I was taller than many women. Broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist and flared again at the hip to well defined thighs and calves. My breasts, more than a handful at a C+ cup, but hadn't yet sagged much due to gravity. I was carrying a little extra weight at my tummy, but overall, I thought my body was still in pretty good shape for a 44 year old. Going to the bedroom I surveyed the closet and pulled out my favorite peacock blue silk shirt. The cut of the shirt accommodated my shoulders and looked tailored. The French cuffs kept the sleeves from riding up my long arms, and best of all my eyes changed to match the deep, rich blue. I had only worn the cufflinks once before. They were very special, a gift from the woman I loved with all of my heart. They were Celtic knots crafted from the three alchemically pure metals, copper, gold and silver. They contrasted nicely with the darkness of the shirt and caught the light beautifully. Admiring the workmanship of the links, I sighed with regret. Things had not worked out between us because of my employment situation. That situation, however, had recently changed. I buttoned the shirt even with my breasts allowing some of my chest to show. Next, I put on the harness with my favorite cock in place. Settling the harness around my hips I stepped into my well worn chocolate brown leather pants. They fit like a second skin, showing off the definition of my thighs. When I went to zip the fly, I realized the flaw in my plan. I'd never packed before, at least not in public, and I wasn't sure what to do with the 8 inch, deep purple cock bobbing out of my pants.
First I tried pulling the cock up to my belly, but it was really hard to zip the fly over it, and the bulge was just too obvious. Come on Lou, THINK, men have figured out how to do this, I'm sure you can too! OK, plan B. Tucking the cock down the inside seam of my left leg allowed the zipper to close easily, and the bulge was apparent, but not too obvious. Good, problem solved! Well at least it was until I tried to walk. Lord, how do they do this? Reaching between my legs, I adjusted my 'package' until I could move without being hindered. Much better! Quickly tucking the shirt in, I went back to the closet to get my belt and boots. The belt had a western style silver buckle, tip, loop, and conchas embedded in the brown leather. The buckle, tip and loop were richly inlayed with Lapis, Turquoise, Abalone, and Corals found in the Southwest where I had been assigned last. The brown boots were another indulgence from my time in New Mexico. They were polished to a high gloss, and fit nicely under the leg of my pants. Pulling the gay travel guide from the pocket of my suitcase, I checked the location of the bar I would be visiting tonight to make sure I knew where I was going. Nothing made me feel antsier than being unsure of where I was going, and I really hated to ask for directions. Confident I knew where the bar was, I stepped to the mirror one last time to make sure I looked as good as I possibly could. Surveying the room to be certain everything was tidy; I checked the placement of the five vanilla/musk candles I'd purchased earlier that day. If all went well, I would not be coming back to the room alone. I grabbed my ID, some money and my room key and stepped out the door. After I checked to make sure the lock caught, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and started walking the short distance to the bar. There was definitely an art to walking while packing. I wanted to look confident, cocky, and completely natural, so I surreptitiously watched my reflection in the store windows as I walked down the street. Changing my gait several times, I settled into a strut that had just a bit of swagger and, as always, determined purpose. A few people stared as I strode past them. Realizing I no longer needed to care about other peoples opinions about how I looked, who I associated with, or what establishments I frequented, I met their stunned faces with a polite, "Good evening," and a blazing smile. Damn, that feels really great! With an added bounce in my step, I turned the corner and went up the steps to the bar's entrance. The bouncer, in tight black jeans and a white tank, sat on a stool by the door. "Nice art." I said referring to the war bands tattooed around her biceps.

"Thanks, I haven't seen you around here before. New in town?" She asked as her dark eyes roamed up and down my body taking it all in.

"I'm visiting. How's the crowd tonight?" I asked as I paid the cover charge.

"I thought so, I would have remembered you." She smirked and added, "It's still a little early, but you'll find plenty here who will appreciate what you have to offer."

"Thanks." I smiled at her open, positive appraisal.

Much like other bars I'd been to, this one was dimly lit and the layer of smoke that hung in the air enhanced the lighting on the small dance floor. Dance music with heavy bass pulsed and the multi colored lights created a mosaic pattern on the dancers surging together. A ring of tables surrounded the floor, and the bar, outlined with purple and pink neon lights, covered the entire left side of the space, the mirror behind it reflecting the scene. Making my way to the bar, I was suddenly aware of eyes following my progress. It was an odd sensation, knowing you were being watched but uncertain of who was watching you in the weak light. Ordering a rum and coke from the black leather clad bartender who sported multiple piercings, I scanned the crowd reflected in the mirror. There were couples, and singles, a kaleidoscope of women in varying ranges between butch and femme. Sipping my drink, I watched the dynamics in the room, how the couples moved together and the singles seductively danced, seeking a pairing for a dance or for the night. As the lights on the dance floor cycled through their pattern, I noticed two poles in the far corners of the room and a woman who danced at one of them. Dressed in a black tank and a leather skirt that stopped at mid thigh, the blonde woman moved with staggering agility and strength. Her straight blonde hair fell to the middle of her back, and her tanned limbs were beautifully muscled. Her body scintillated around the pole, at times defying gravity as she spun, landing lightly, gracefully on her four inch black stiletto heels. Eyes closed, her movements were different from the rest of the woman dancing, she was sensuous without being sexual. It was clear that she was dancing for herself, in command and compelling, not looking for a partner. She was magnificent, a lithe, golden lioness, and I was completely captivated. The music changed then, and the sultry, sexy voice of Sade sang about a Smooth Operator. I turned to watch the vision of her beauty firsthand. Skirting the dance floor, I moved to the corner of the room as if I was in a trance. A hand closed around my arm breaking the spell for a moment. A tall, dark, very attractive butch had hold of me and brought her lips to my ear so I could hear her above the crooning Sade.

"You're new here, so you wouldn't know that Nicky never says yes."

"Perhaps that's because the right woman hasn't asked." I replied.

"Knock yourself out then, I just thought I'd give you a warning and save you the embarrassment. She knocked the last one on her ass."

Smiling to take the sting out of my words I asked, "Would that have been you, per chance?" She let go of my arm, shook her head, and blended back into the shadows.

Both hands on the pole, Nicky was moving in a slow, sensual wave. Reaching around her to grip the pole, I snugged my body behind hers, matching, as best I could, the sensual wave her body made. Her body jerked, stiffened and then, when she saw my hand around the pole, she relaxed, let go of the pole and melted against my body. Her hands reached around me, pulling my hips in tighter to hers. We moved as one. She turned in my arms then and looked into my eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes warmed to the color of honey, and she worried her bottom lip between her perfect white teeth. Her arms caressed up my sides, over my arms and snaked around my neck as she pressed her hips against mine in a slow swinging motion. I let the pole go and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer to me. Neither of us spoke, letting our bodies do all the talking. I had no idea how long we danced like that, hips fused, arms around each other and our eyes locked together.

She closed her eyes again and rested her head against my shoulder. Sighing deeply, she said into my ear, "You smell really good, and feel even better. Would you like to continue this dance privately?"

Looking deeply in her eyes, I saw desire and, I hoped, something more. I gently cupped her chin and tipped her head back, bringing my lips to hers. Her hands slid into my hair and pulled my head tighter. Her lips were incredibly soft and when her tongue lightly caressed my lips I opened to allow her entry. We'd stopped dancing, our lips locked together, our tongues gently exploring, tasting each other.

I broke the kiss, looked in her eyes again and said, "Let's go. I have a room just up the street." Taking her hand I led her through the crowd. The crowd parted before us. Some women stared, shocked, others looked at us approvingly, while still others, including the butch that had tried to warn me off, seemed hostile. They could not understand how I had succeeded when they had not. I wished the bouncer a good evening as we descended the stairs to the street. She gave me a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.

A light breeze cooled the balmy late July evening, not too hot or cool, the night was perfect. Nicky's smaller hand enclosed in mine, felt so good, so right, I couldn't help but to smile as we walked. I caressed her palm with my thumb, and she squeezed my hand in response. Neither of us spoke as we walked to my hotel. Stopping at the door to unlock it, I asked her to wait just a moment. I quickly lit the candles, and turned on the smooth, sultry jazz compilation CD I'd selected earlier. Then I reached for Nicky's hand to draw her into the candlelit room and closed the door behind her.

When I started to speak, Nicky gently put her fingers over my lips and said, "Shhhh. Please, don't say anything. Dance with me." Her voice was low, husky and heavy with desire. I took her incredible body in my arms and started dancing. Recognizing several different steps she made, I realized she was an expert dancer. Thank God I had to take that ballroom dancing orientation! I was able to anticipate some of her moves allowing me to work in a few moves of my own.

Our bodies moving in synch, I spun her out and back to me and then dipped her. Time seemed to stop as our eyes locked together, our breaths coming faster. Slowly bringing us to an upright position, her eyes begged me to make the next move. Obliging her wish, I lowered my head and kissed her. Her mouth opened under mine and our kiss turned from tender to passionate in a heartbeat. Untucking my shirt, her hands slid under the silk to caress the length of my back. By the time she brought her hands over my ribs to cup my breasts, I was wet and aching for her touch.

I whispered in her ear, "May I undress you?" She nodded, granting my request. Lifting the hem of her black silk tank, I could see the lacy black bra she wore. The leather skirt went next revealing a matching lace thong. Heart pounding in my chest, I led her to sit on the edge of the bed, knelt before her and caressed her beautiful legs before removing her stiletto heels.

She shivered as my eyes devoured her golden beauty. Then she reached for me and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I wasn't wearing a bra, and her eyes dilated with desire when I shrugged the shirt from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind me. I took my boots and socks off and then stood to take off my pants.

"Let me." She husked, reaching for the zipper and slowly lowering it. She pulled my cock from its confinement and quickly took the bulbous head into her mouth. As she slid my cock deeper in her mouth, she pushed it against my already twitching clit. Gasping for air as the sensation overwhelmed me, my knees got weak. When I thought I wouldn't be able to stand any longer, she shifted, pulling me onto the bed, on my back.

I'd never seen anything as sexy as Nicky crawling up from the foot of the bed with a smoldering look in her eyes. She pulled off her thong and straddled my legs. She was wet, nearly dripping when her heat made contact with my thigh. Her eyes changed color to molten gold, and her gaze bore into mine as she unclasped her bra and let it fall. Her nipples, already a deep raspberry were erect, and I nearly lost my mind when her hands ran through her trimmed blonde curls, up the center of her body to stroke her perfectly formed breasts. I echoed her gasp when her fingers gently squeezed and then lightly twisted the hardened peaks. Raising her body, she took my hands and placed them on her hips, and with my cock in her firm grasp, gyrated her body in a seductive dance on it.

Her voice raspy, she groaned, "This is my version…of a private…pole dance."

Never losing contact with the cock, she undulated, rubbing it with her heat, coating it with her wetness. A light sheen of sweat covered her body, and when the fuel of her excitement began to drip between my legs, my own passion reached a fevered pitch. I could wait no longer. I needed to be inside of her.

"Baby!" my voice cracked, harsh with need. "Please, let me love you!

She shifted and when the head slid inside, her body tensed, then arched. Unable to wait any longer, I surged upward, filling her. Settling with my cock buried deep inside of her, she brought my hands to her breasts, and began a slow, primal grinding rhythm. Thrusting my hips in time with her downward motion, I raked my thumbs over her swollen nipples making her whimper with each stroke. Needing more, I reared up to take her nipple into my mouth, sucking it, hard. Her fingers laced through my hair, holding me tight to her breast. I switched to her other breast, lightly biting and working the rock-hard nub with my tongue. Releasing her breast, I looked into her eyes then took her mouth with my own. My hands fisted in her hair, as our tongues fought for dominance. Her tresses felt like corn silk. I ran my fingers through its softness as my hands descended to her back, and before she could protest, I rolled us over until she was on her back. She pushed at my shoulders at first, but when I started moving my hips, pressing deeper into her, and then nearly completely withdrawing, her hands pulled me closer. I began thrusting my tongue in time with the thrusts of my hips. Her legs wrapped around my waist as she opened herself further for me, and her hips lifted with each thrust letting me press deeper still. I could feel her body tensing, getting very tight around me. Staying deep within her, I rotated my hips, stimulating her with a different motion. Her hands clenched on my back and she came, hard. Her back arched off the bed, and her cry grew from a low growl to a full voiced shout. My throatier cries blended with hers as her climax pushed me over the edge and our joined bodies shuddered as one. When her contractions eased, she relaxed into the bed and held me closer. Our kisses turned from passionate and hungry to loving and tender. When I started to gently pull out, she squeezed me even tighter, halting my withdrawal.

Her voice sounded tight. "Please, don't leave me yet. I don't think I could bear it."

"I won't, baby. I'll stay as long as long as you'll have me."

"Do you mean it?" Her eyes opened very wide, and filled with tears.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/bliss_pole_dance.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 19 ruj 2012 21:02

smrt brata...obiteljsko neprihvaćanje...glazbena karijera...američki jug ..dva dijela Mississippi Blues, All That Jazz

Mississippi Blues
By the Bluedragon

A loud chirping sound wound itself through the dreamscape, confusing the dreamer for a moment before forcing consciousness upon the ungrateful receiver. The chirping did not stop once eyes were opened to the wall. It took a few seconds of fumbling, but finally a hand snaked out from the covers and snatched the phone from the table. The chirping stopped.

"Mmm....Hello?

"Nicole, do you know what time it is?" Adia Herbert’s voice was worse than the chirping.

"No, what time is it?"

"It’s almost nine in the morning. Half the day is gone, and you are still in bed aren’t you?"

"Yes, ma’am. I had to work late last night. Inventory and all that. Didn’t make it home until 2," Nicole sat up in bed and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

"I heard that you would not be coming down for Labor Day?" Uh oh, here it comes, the photographer thought.

"I asked for the time off, but Attila didn’t grant it. The other assistant manager is a week from her due date, and I have to stay in town in case she goes into labor."

"That man...How long have you been working there?"

"Four years," Nicole hid a sigh. She had been expecting this.

"You need to move back here and find a job. I’m sure you can. One that would let you see your family when you wanted to."

"Grandma, I can’t quit yet. And I like it here. I don’t want to move back right now."

"Nicole Elizabeth Herbert, we will discuss this when you come home. And you will be here for Thanksgiving." Her grandmother’s tone carried a sense of finality to it.

"But..."

"No buts, Nicole, Thanksgiving." The line went dead. The portable phone hit the floor.

"Ugh," The photographer threw herself back onto the bed, much to Mozart’s consternation. "Some days, it more than pays to use the answering machine."

She was almost asleep again when the chirping began anew. With a groan, she picked the portable off the floor.

"Hello?"

"Nicole?"

"Yeah," She almost did not recognize the voice on the other end. "Laurel?"

A laugh. "Yeah, did I wake you?"

"No, are you ok? You sound kinda funny."

"Just feel hung over. Listen, we’re having a barbecue on Saturday for Labor Day. Do you want to come?"

"Who is having it?"

"The band. I want them to meet you. We’re looking for someone to do some publicity shots for us, and I suggested you."

"Yeah, sure." She was touched that the bassist would recommend her.

"Ok, I have to get to class, but I’ll give you the details later. BJ had to know today so he can order the food."

"Sounds good,"

"Oh, and any special type of drink you want, you’ll have to bring. They’re only supplying really bad, cheap beer."

"Ok," She chuckled, "I can do that."

"Cool, well, then later?"

"Yeah, tonight right?"

"Yep. Hope you’ve been practicing. Bye." She hung up before the photographer could make a reply.

"Well, Mo, that was a call to wake up to. Ready to face the day?" At the dog’s enthusiastic bark, Nicole laughed and left the room in search of caffeine.

Laurel was, as always, on time when she pulled into Nicole’s driveway. The photographer was sitting on the steps with Mozart beside her. It reminded Laurel of the first time she had arrived at her friend’s house for guitar lessons. The only thing different this time was that no butterflies were attacking her intestines. As soon as she stopped the truck, Nicole waved and led Mozart inside. She grabbed a large black book and a paper bag before locking the door.

"Ready?" The photographer asked as she opened the passenger door.

"I think the question is are you ready to meet the band?"

"Really, they can’t be that bad," Nicole grinned and thought of her friends at a party. No contest.

"Well, we’ll see about that," Laurel carefully backed out of the driveway and pointed the truck back the way she came.

Nicole was relieved to see at least one person she knew at the barbecue. Mandy walked over to the truck as soon as the bassist had stopped it and hugged both women as they go out. Nicole returned the gesture, feeling comfortable with the invasion of her personal space. Laurel seemed used to getting hugs from the redhead, and Nicole wondered what their relationship was honestly. As far as she knew, Laurel was not a toucher. She fought down an irrational surge of jealousy and pasted a smile on her face when the two looked in her direction.

"Coming?" Mandy asked, not waiting for an answer but turning away and heading towards the picnic table.

Nicole hefted her portfolio and followed the redhead with Laurel walking beside her. The walk gave Nicole ample time to study the crowd; the sunglasses she wore shielded them from her inquisitive gaze. She recognized several people there from either Mabel’s or the concert at Eli’s.

"Hey Lakky, who’s your friend?" One of the guys gathered around the grill shouted.

"Gentlemen, Ladies, and the rest, this is Nicole Herbert, photographer extraordinaire. Nicole, the members and hangers on of blue gecko." The blonde grinned proudly and gestured for the photographer to have a seat at the table.

Nicole sat down and took in the scene before braving the waters and joining in the conversation. Laurel waited until the tension was completely broken before joining the discussion around the barbecue grill. Loud voices forced the photographer’s attentions away from the topic at hand and moved them fully in the bassist’s direction. Laurel was having an argument with a very tall guy, Nicole could not remember his name, and it seemed to her that the bassist was winning. It ended when the defeated chef turned his tongs over to the blonde. Nicole smiled as Laurel looked up and their gazes met.

"Hey Nicole, what’s in the bag?" Mandy appeared at her side and smiled down at her.

"I brought a bottle of wine, Laurel said that it was sort of a bring your own situation." Suddenly, the normally confident photographer felt a bit awkward.

"No, that’s fine. Here, we’ll go put it in the fridge to chill it, or if its a red wine, we’ll hide it," Mandy grinned again.

"Ok," Nicole got up and followed the redhead into the trailer. It was only her second visit there, and this time she made more of an effort to look around. The furniture, though mismatched, was well taken care of, and the atmosphere was one of comfort. There were several pictures, posters and prints of paintings on the wall. She wanted to study each one further, but Mandy ushered her into the kitchen.

"Lakky’s really glad you came today," Mandy told her as she placed the white wine in the refrigerator.

"Lakky?" The nickname threw Nicole for a moment. "Oh, you mean Laurel? Well, I am glad she invited me over. I think doing publicity shots for the band would be a great experience." Mandy had her back to the photographer, so Nicole missed the look of surprise at her words.

"Well, they are starting to get quite popular around here." Mandy said covering her shock easily.

"Yeah, I think they’re very talented. They really have a shot of making it big," Nicole was not as sure of that as she sounded. She could barely remember what they sounded like. Since all her attention had been on Laurel, she had not had any to spare on actually listening to the band.

"Who’s got a shot of what?" Laurel asked from the doorway. Having both Mandy and Nicole disappear had made her nervous.

"We were talking about the band. Seems that Nicole has been bewitched by blue gecko," Mandy grinned.

"Well, I just call it like I hear it," Nicole muttered. It’s not the band I’m bewitched by.

"Why then thank ya, ma’am," Laurel made a show of bowing. "Wanna put your portfolio in my room for safe keeping?" Nicole had grabbed the big black book out of habit.

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea." She followed Laurel down the short hallway and turned into the small bedroom.

"Its a bit of a mess, the housekeeper is on vacation,"

"No, that’s fine," Nicole set her portfolio on the bed, the only clear spot in the room.

"Hey, I’ve got to get back out to the grill. We’ll show them that later, ok?"

"Sure," Nicole followed Laurel back out through the trailer and into the yard. Mandy had rejoined the group outside and was holding a conversation with someone who looked like a lineman for the football team.

"Wow, that was a good meal, I’m still full," The photographer commented. Laurel felt herself blush at the compliment. She had to wrestle control of the grill from Charles, but a bribe had finally worked. Laurel was a horrible cook when she was in the kitchen, but she was a terrific one when she was in front of a grill.

"I am glad you enjoyed it. They really liked your portfolio. Thanks for bringing with you," And of course thanks for sharing it with me too.

"Hey it was no problem. I’d really love shooting the band," Nicole grinned to herself. Of course there maybe more pictures of the bass player than the rest of them.

The blonde was quiet as she steered the truck back toward Nicole’s house. The photographer was a little worried that something had upset her friend when the conversation began again.

"I’m sure they’ll chose you. Even if I have to bust some heads to do so," She laughed. "Seriously though they liked you. And that is a big plus." Course, since they just found out that we’re doing publicity photos, it should not be a problem.

"Yeah I guess it is," The house was coming into view and both were reluctant to stop the conversation. "Anyway, I can’t do lessons on Tuesday, want to do them Thursday?"

"Yeah that will work," Laurel was disappointed but tried to hide it.

"And this time I’ll cook. I can’t make ribs like you do, but I’m sure I can come up with something," Nicole grinned mischievously.

"Uh oh, why does that look make me nervous?" Laurel teased.

"Aww, you’ll like Cajun food. I promise." She opened her door. "Look you want to come in for a while?"

"I would love to, but we do have a rehearsal tonight. Sorry," Really I am. More than I should be.

"Ok, well Thursday then. See ya."

Laurel stayed in the driveway until Nicole was safely in the house. She took her time driving home, taking the longest way back she knew. She always thought best while in motion. Driving was just an extension of that. Of course while driving there was the added advantage that no one would hear her talk to herself.

"You know, Lakky, you’re in something bad. But what something?" She paused to light a cigarette. "What is this doing to me? What is she doing to me?"

The answer did not elude her for long.

"Nothing, and that is the problem. Face it, Laurel Anne Kendrick, you are in lust one hundred percent."

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I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 20 ruj 2012 20:23

Francuska 1815. u vrijeme Napoleona ...

FREDERICA AND THE VISCOUNTESS
by Barbara Davies

The formal mode of address made Frederica turn and frown. Joanna had picked up the reins and was urging the horse into motion.

Something about the set of the other woman's shoulders made her call out impulsively, "I will come to Thornbury Park this afternoon to give Mr Dunster my answer. Perhaps I will see you then?"

For a moment she thought Joanna had not heard her, then a gloved hand rose in acknowledgement and the Viscountess turned and smiled at her.

With a small sigh of relief, she watched the dogcart until it had turned out of the drive. Then she turned to her silently waiting father. "You have something to say to me, Papa?"

He nodded. "Come, my dear."

"You must break your association with Viscountess Norland, Frederica." Mr Bertram gestured at the newspaper lying open on his desk. "We agreed to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she has proved as disreputable as ever."

She opened her mouth to speak but his raised hand stopped her.

"I know she brought Amelia back safe, child. But if it had not been for her, that foolish girl would not have come into Lord Peregrine's sphere of influence in the first place!" He shook his head. "How I can have raised daughters so level-headed as you and so empty-headed as Amelia escapes me! Though considering your mother's temperament, it should not. Perhaps it is as well you did not both turn out empty-headed!"

She could contain herself no longer. "Papa! If you only knew the truth of what Joanna has done for us!"

He blinked at her in astonishment. "'Joanna', is it?" She blushed. "Well, well," he said, after a short pause. "A judge must hear all sides of the case before pronouncing sentence. Perhaps you will tell me 'Joanna's' side?"

So tell him she did, holding nothing back, and gesticulating wildly as she did so. At last she drew to a close. There was silence in the library apart from the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

"Upon my word! Three hundred guineas, you say?" He sounded quite overcome. "And this -" he gestured at the paper, "a red herring to draw the press away from Amelia?"

She nodded.

"Well, well. That throws quite a different light on things. Upon my word!" He rose and began to pace. "To find myself so indebted to the Viscountess...." He paced a bit more then halted and sighed. "I must repay her, of course."

"You may offer, but I suspect she will not take it." Frederica bit her lip. "Will you tell Mama the particulars? I cannot bear it that she was so rude to Joanna. She does not deserve such shabby treatment."

He smiled fondly at her. "You have always had a kind heart, my dear. And of course you want only what is best for your friends, among whose number you have clearly included Viscountess Norland. Well, I will try. But as you must know by now, your mother hears what she wants to hear."

"Even so...."

He patted her hand. "I said will try." He folded up the paper and set it aside. "Now, as to that other matter...."

"Papa?"

"Your decision about Mr Dunster. Have you made it yet?" He sat down, steepled his fingers, and regarded her with interest.

Her heart began to race and she fiddled with her gloves while she decided how to proceed. "What would you say were I to refuse him?"

Her father's silence made her look up. "I would say, be sure that is what you really want, Frederica. For a match such as Chaloner Dunster will not likely come your way again."

"I know. But I do not love him, Papa."

"Ah." His eyes filled with sadness. "I was afraid you might say that. Some may marry without love and still find enough in their situation to make them happy." He pursed his lips. "But I fear that you, my dear, from what I have observed, are not among their number."

Her father's confirmation of her innermost feelings was both welcome and unwelcome. She sighed.

"But will you be happy as a spinster, my dear?" he continued. "Can you forego the pleasures of companionship, of children?"

"How can I know the answer to that? But I will try, with all my heart. For there are other forms of companionship than that of a husband, are there not, and there will always be my nephews and nieces to spoil."

"My dear girl." He stood up and came round his desk, his arms open wide. She leaned against his chest and let him embrace her, feeling the prick of tears against her eyelids. "I want only for you to be happy," he said. "If you must refuse Mr Dunster to be so, then do it with my blessing."

"Thank you, Papa."

"But do not on any account let your mother know that I said so!"

Laughter bubbled up inside her, pushing the tears away. Frederica trudged down the drive from Thornbury Park. Things had started out well enough. Edmund Lynton had greeted her warmly on her arrival and asked after Amelia's health and her own. Then he had ushered her into the drawing room where Chaloner was eagerly awaiting her. From that point on, things had gone rapidly down hill. To say Chaloner was displeased with her refusal was to put it mildly. At first he had thought she was joking. When it became clear she wasn’t, he became by turns confused, disbelieving, and hurt. Finally had come real anger. She had never seen him angry before, and to think that she had been the cause of it gave her real pain. He had given her a stiff bow and a cold look then stalked off to his room. Meekly, she had let herself out, only to run into Mr and Mrs Lynton. Caroline had learned of her brother's treatment and she too turned cold towards her. Edmund looked merely disappointed.

As for Joanna, the one person she could have expected to take her side was unavailable. "Out riding," said a servant.

Frederica twirled her reticule and castigated herself as she walked. Who did she think she was, turning down the position of Mrs Dunster just because it went against her inclination? Angry tears came to her eyes. "Foolish, foolish girl! Now what will become of you?"

The sound of hoofbeats made her look up. A rider was coming towards her, but she could not make out who it was. She dashed the tears from her eyes and looked again. Viscountess Norland was wearing breeches and sitting astride. Male attire suited her, decided Frederica, openly staring as the other woman reined her horse in, dismounted, and strode towards her.

"Frederica! Have you paid your visit to Thornbury Park?"

She nodded.

"You refused Mr Dunster, I presume?"

She felt suddenly indignant. "Then you presume a great deal, your ladyship!"

A radiant smile lit up the Viscountess's face. "But you have not denied it. Good."

"Such presumption -"

"Is rather deduction, my dear. You are walking alone. If you had just accepted my proposal, I would not leave you so."

Frederica blinked. Being with the Viscountess was always disconcerting, and this occasion looked like being no exception. She contented herself with a weak, "Oh."

"I was afraid you would accept him. I am glad you did not." The tall woman grabbed her horse's reins, and fell into step beside Frederica as they walked.

"I do not know why you should be glad! I would have been mistress of Symond Hall. What am I now to do?"

"Whatever you want. He was not right for you, Frederica."

"And who are you to say who is or is not right for me?"

The other woman merely laughed and Frederica stared at her. She seemed quite changed from the tense, forlorn figure of this morning. "You are happy!"

"I am."

"What has happened to make you so?"

"You have refused Mr Dunster when I feared you would not." Joanna glanced at her. "And besides, I have been thinking, and I believe I have found the solution to your predicament and mine."

A warm glow had suffused Frederica at the other woman's words. "And what predicament is that, pray?"

"That we are both destined to be old maids."

"That is to be my fate, I agree, but you are married with a child and so cannot be a maid, and besides, I have heard you need never lack for company if you desire it!"

The Viscountess's smile widened. "I do believe you are being indelicate." She wagged a finger in mock disapproval. "I am shocked, Frederica! Shocked!"

Frederica blushed and wondered what had come over her.

"I will not beat about the bush," continued Joanna, taking her hand. "I want you to come with me to Murviton... as my companion."

She opened her mouth then closed it again. Words seemed to have deserted her. "Your c...companion?"

"Yes. You have heard of such a thing?"

"Of course. A poor relation doomed to be at the beck and call of her rich employer, to placate her every whim."

Joanna's eyes danced. "I could not have put it better myself. Whim is a good word, an accurate word. I am determined to have lots of whims."

Frederica pursed her lips and tried not to smile. "You think a good deal of yourself!"

"Can you deny that you enjoy my company?"

"No, I cannot deny it."

"As I enjoy yours."

"Do you?"

A dark eyebrow rose. "Can you not tell?"

"I think you enjoy making sport of me," said Frederica.

"I do. And for that I apologise." Joanna pressed her hand. "But will you think about my offer, my dear? It is seriously meant."

Frederica stopped and turned to gaze at other woman. Her expression was as grave as she had ever seen it. "I have never had so attractive an offer, Joanna," she said frankly. "But this is a big step. I must talk to my father."

"Of course. Take as long as you like. Discuss it with whomsoever you like. Consult the soothsayers, toss a coin, pull petals from daisies.... As long as in the end your answer is yes."

She laughed. "And what if I say no?"

Joanna waved dismissively. "Then I will repeat my offer at regular intervals ad nauseam, until at last you grow tired of resisting me and say yes."

"You are very persistent."

"It is my middle name."

"I thought your middle name was Notorious?"

"From now on it is Persistent."

Blue eyes held hers, and she saw something in them she had not seen in Chaloner's gaze - warmth and honest affection. This time her decision was intuitive and instant. "I will talk to my father," she said. "And I will say yes."

Joanna was returning from walking the dogs (she had persuaded Frederica to let her buy two golden retrievers) when she saw her abigail hurrying out of Murviton's back door to intercept her.

"What is it, Dorothea?" she called.

"Miss Bertram's parents have arrived earlier than expected!" The red-faced maid, came to a halt in front of her and pressed a hand to her side while she got her breath back. "And they have brought Mr and Mrs Dunster with them."

"Have they, by God!" Joanna pursed her lips. "How does Amelia look?"

"As you would imagine, your ladyship - insufferably pleased to be the new mistress of Symond Hall! I expect she will pull rank over her sister at dinner."

"Knowing Frederica, she will be happy to let her."

Joanna whistled the dogs to heel. Cowper obeyed instantly, but Sefton had to be called twice. (Much to Frederica's scandalised amusement, the Viscountess had named the dogs after two ladies on Almack's current committee, which had barred her after her supposed tryst with Perry.)

"Has cook been informed we have two extra guests for dinner?"

Dorothea nodded. "It is all in hand."

"Good. Where are they now?"

"Miss Bertram is entertaining them in the drawing room. She requests you to join her as soon as is convenient and," the maid hesitated then continued delicately, "suggests you wear a dress."

Joanna let out a bark of laughter. "Does she indeed? Very well, tell her I will be there as soon as I have changed, then attend me in my chamber."

"Very good, your ladyship." Dorothea curtseyed and hurried away.

Joanna gave the dogs into the care of a footman, tugged off her boots (Frederica took exception to having mud tracked over their carpets), and climbed the stairs to the chamber she shared with the fair-haired woman. Dorothea had already selected and laid out a blue satin afternoon dress, with shoes and gloves of a lighter shade. She stripped off her coat, waistcoat, and shirt, peeled off her breeches, and allowed Dorothea to button her into her new attire. There was no time to do anything much with her hair, so her abigail, tutting throughout, swept it back into a bun at the nape of her neck. A last check in the mirror satisfied her she would not shame Frederica, then she set off downstairs. Frederica was pouring milk into china cups when Joanna entered the drawing-room and she threw Joanna a look of pure relief. She grinned and, after greeting their guests, went at once to her side.

"Is this dress to your liking?"

Frederica appraised her. "Blue becomes you. Thank you, Joanna. I know it must be tiresome for you."

"My pleasure. Are they behaving themselves?"

"Father is bored out of his wits, mother thinks we should buy new curtains as these are horrendously shabby and old-fashioned, and Amelia is acting like royalty rather than plain old Mrs Dunster." She put down the milk jug and reached for the silver teapot. "As for Chaloner, he has been showing off dreadfully - I think he is trying to make me realise what I missed. But I am already aware of it, and grateful beyond measure for my narrow escape!"

Joanna laughed. "If only he knew that he has you to thank for throwing Amelia in his path...."

"Shhh!" Frederica looked round, but their guests were talking amongst themselves and had not heard Joanna's remark. "Well," she continued in a low voice, "they are much better suited. For she is pretty and silly, and already as obsessed with Symond Hall as he is. And he is much richer and handsomer than Herbert Smith ever was."

"A perfect match."

"You are joking, but I believe it truly is, Joanna. Even better, now she has landed Chaloner, Amelia never mentions Lord Peregrine, whereas once he was the subject of every other sentence."

"A blessing indeed!"

"There, the tea is poured." Frederica put down the teapot and reached for the heavy tray, but Joanna beat her to it.

"Allow me." A quick press of her hand was her reward.

They joined their guests on the sofa, Joanna placing the tray on a convenient table and Frederica passing out the cups of tea. And if the newly wed Mr and Mrs Dunster were surprised to be offered the sugar bowl and tongs by a Viscountess (Joanna never stood on ceremony in her own house), they hid it well. The afternoon passed into evening in talk and laughter and exchanges of glances between Joanna and Frederica. The Dunsters were full of their recent honeymoon in Sussex (they had stopped off in Kent on their way back to Norfolk) and their plans for Symond Hall. Mrs Bertram's excessive admiration of everything they said grew tiresome, but Joanna resolved to be patient for Frederica's sake. As for Mr Bertram, his opinion seemed to be similar to her own, for he too bit his lip from time to time, and whenever his gaze fell on his eldest daughter, a gentle smile curved his lips.

"My daughter is looking very well, your ladyship," he commented when they had a moment to themselves - Frederica was playing the pianoforte Joanna had had installed for her, and Amelia was turning the pages.

"Indeed she is."

"When first she told me you had asked her to be your companion I had my doubts," he confided. "But she was confident you would make her happy so I could not deny her. She has been proved correct, I venture. And for that I thank you."

"No need," she said gruffly. "For I have got as much and more from our bargain. She has turned Murviton from a house into a home - something I had not realised I missed so badly until I had it once more."

"Nevertheless." He smiled and changed the subject. "How are those unruly dogs of yours? Answering to your commands yet?"

"Cowper is coming along nicely, Mr Bertram. Sefton still has his own ideas ...."

Later, after a hearty dinner (where Amelia had indeed claimed precedence over her unmarried sister), Joanna and Frederica waved off their guests in their carriages, directed the servants to lock up, and retired to their bedchamber.

Joanna helped Frederica out of her dress, stays, chemise and petticoat, then set to work on garters and stockings. "It went well, did it not?" She ran a finger down a bare leg, receiving part yelp part giggle for her pains.

"Apart from the drawing room curtains, which I do not think my mother will ever like." Frederica instructed her to turn round and began unbuttoning Joanna's dress.

"'Shabby' indeed!" Joanna looked over her shoulder. "She should have seen my Paris house. Dorothea continues to upbraid me for the cockroaches."

Frederica gave a mock shudder. "I trust you will never expect me to stay in such a place!"

"No indeed." A kiss on her shoulder signalled Frederica was done.

Joanna let her dress pool round her ankles, flung her undone stays aside, and pulled the chemise over her head. While she was at her most vulnerable, nimble fingers tickled her ribs. In her efforts to avoid her tormentor, she ripped the seam of her dress.

"Now look what I have done!" she complained. "Dorothea will nag me for days!" The hangdog expression she assumed merely made Frederica laugh harder.

"If the curtains are shabby, they merely match the rest of Murviton," continued Joanna, resuming their earlier conversation, "which I would class as comfortable rather than shabby. Indeed comfort was one of its chief attractions, that and the rose garden and the fact it was so near to Chawleigh."

"You have certainly made me feel very comfortable here," said Frederica, smiling and stepping out of the drawers she now wore as a result of Joanna's influence (they were still considered shocking in some circles).

"I'm happy to hear it." She stripped off her own drawers and reached for the nightgown Dorothea had laid out for her. But the shake of a fair head told her it was not required, so she grinned and flung it across the room.

Frederica's own nightgown soon followed hers, then the other woman slipped into bed. "I think my father approves of you."

Joanna slid in beside her and pulled her close. "If he saw us now, he would sing a different song!"

"Then let us thank the Lord he cannot." Frederica pulled Joanna's head down and kissed her deeply.

When she had recovered her breath, the Viscountess took a moment to marvel at the changes eight months had wrought.

They had begun their new life at Murviton as particular friends, though the world thought them mistress and companion. But as she had hoped, friendship had deepened into something else. Joanna had taken things slowly, but Frederica showed no signs of repulsing her advances, indeed she seemed to welcome them. In the early days she was like a young colt, skittish and ready to bolt should Joanna's kisses and caresses stray too far beyond the bounds of propriety. But gradually her confidence grew, and she showed signs of relishing the Viscountess's increasingly bold touches. The night Joanna finally coaxed Frederica into her bed and showed her just how good one woman could make another feel had been exhilarating. Under Joanna's patient tuition, and with the aid of a glass or two of madeira to relax her, Frederica's trepidation and reserve had vanished like early morning mist. The younger woman's ardent response had delighted the Viscountess, and, as the hands roaming over her now indicated, Frederica had been eager to repeat the experience as frequently as possible ever since. She returned her thoughts to the here and now and began returning the caresses, to Frederica's evident delight.... After they had made love, they flopped back exhausted onto the pillows, an already sleepy Frederica cradled in Joanna's arms. Joanna formed the sheets and blankets into a cocoon around them both.

"What shall we do tomorrow?" she murmured in a delicate ear. "Edmund has invited us to dine, but we need not go if there is something else you would prefer." Relations between their households had cooled for a while, but had warmed considerably since Chaloner transferred his attentions to Amelia.

Frederica gave a languid stretch that reminded Joanna of a sated cat and yawned. "I care not." Absently she traced the scar on Joanna's shoulder then stroked her cheek and snuggled closer. "Even haymaking would be acceptable if I could but do it with you beside me."

Joanna smiled in the darkness. "Then I shall take care always to be beside you, my love."

Her answer was a soft snore.

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I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 21 ruj 2012 20:17

1868.g....međusobni dodir i utjecaj indijanske i bijelačke kulture ..rasne predrasude....očuvanje naslijeđa predaka

~ Blue Fire ~
by C. E. Gray

Alicia yawned as she awoke to a new day, and debated hiding under the covers until breakfast. But, at the remembrance of the new addition that laid in her stable, the blonde shot out of bed, and quickly got dressed. Pulling on a pair of pants, which her father always complained of her wearing, claiming "it wasn't proper for a young lady to go traipsing about the land in a pair of men's pants and chaps", Alicia slipped on her boots, and buttoned up her shirt. I'm sorry, father, she thought, sending a silent prayer to the loving man, who she was sure was watching over her from the heavens, but ranch work cannot be done in a dress!

"I guess it's time for breakfast," she sighed, as her stomach grumbled. Grabbing a knife, stick of butter, and a loaf of cornbread, the woman headed out to the barn. She decided to have her meal with her animals, where she could keep an eye on Mystic's filly, as well as her other twelve horses.

"Hey, there, sweetheart," greeted the rancher, and the mare snorted at her. "How are you feeling, hm? And how's the little one?" Alicia checked on both horses, and gently felt the young colt all over, examining the youngster for any problems, as well as accustoming it to her touch.

"Look what I got," she said, pulling a cube of sugar from her pocket, and giving it to the mare. "Good girl. Well, ya'll are probably just as hungry as I am, aren't you?" Her soft southern drawl kicked in, and the woman gave each horse a bit of hay, as well as some oats.

Well, each horse except one. The Palomino mare bounded about in the outside corral, not used to being caged in by wooden planks. Alicia gave the mare some food, but doubted the animal would take it. The rancher had tried her best for the past three days to get close to the horse, but the wild mustang wouldn't allow her to get within ten feet of her, before she skirted away. Rubbing her sore arm, Alicia was reminded that getting too close to the animal was dangerous. The woman had a purple bruise the size of a silver dollar, where the mare had nipped hard at her skin, two days prior. When everyone on the ranch that wanted food had been fed, Alicia mounted one of her geldings, since Mystic would be unable to ride for at least a week, and decided to do a quick perimeter check of her land. It had been rumored that outlawed cowboys and angry Indians were roaming the surrounding area, so Alicia took her Winchester rifle along, just in case. Thunder, the black gelding beneath her, suddenly decided he wanted to wander down into the ravine. Thinking that perhaps the horse was thirsty, and wished to drink some of the cool water from the creek below, Alicia let him have his head.
The blonde gasped when she saw the unmistakable form of a person lying on their side in the ravine. When Thunder was just a few feet away, Alicia pulled him to a stop, and dismounted in a hurry. Going to the person's side, Alicia quickly discovered two things: one, it was a woman, and two, she was badly injured, but alive. With the strength that comes from years of ranch work, Alicia lifted the fallen woman onto the back of her horse, mounted, and urged Thunder home as fast as he could go, without harming the injured woman even more.

"Okay, Thunder," said Alicia, "let's get her into the house, hm?" Practically dragging the woman by her arms, the young woman managed to get the tall, bloody form into the house and put her on the sofa.

First of all, I'd better get that arrow out of her shoulder, the rancher mused. Oh, thank heaven it went all the way through. Breaking the head of the arrow, Alicia grabbed on to the shaft, and pulled as hard as she could, quickly cleaning the wound. The arrow had passed just under the woman's collarbone, and exited just above her first rib in the back. Alicia couldn't tell enough to be sure, but she hoped there was no permanent nerve or muscle damage from the arrow, as the small blonde bandaged the wound. Upon closer inspection, Alicia knew she would need a lot of clean cloths to wipe the blood from the woman. Gathering a handful of clean rags, and soaking a few of them in cool water, Alicia returned to the sofa. Cleaning the red substance from the dark-haired woman's face, neck, hands, and especially her leg, Alicia frowned when fresh blood poured forth from her thigh wound. The rancher's green eyes widened when she realized the tall woman suffered from a bullet wound. Sighing, and thanking God that the woman was passed out, Alicia plunged her fingers into the wound, and felt around until she withdrew the small caliber bullet. Even more blood came out of the hole, and the blonde was quick to tie a bandage around it, in an effort to quell the flood. The next step, Alicia knew, was to get the woman some new clothes to wear, since the garments she currently had on - torn up leather pants and an old ratty cotton shirt with a leather vest, were covered in blood, and completely ruined. Noticing a knife at the woman's hip, Alicia carefully withdrew it, recognizing the craftsmanship immediately as Apache Indian. She's Indian, thought Alicia. That means she probably won't wear the clothes I've got. Not that anything I've got will fit her… but some of Bill's clothes might! Deciding that her deceased brother wouldn't mind his clothes going to help a wounded woman, Alicia figured she would strip the woman, dress her wounds, and then lay the clothes out for her to wear, if she wished. Using the knife to cut away the tattered clothes, Alicia stood and folded the old clothes, placing them in a pile just outside the kitchen, figuring she'd wash them later. When she returned, she was struck by the beauty of the body before her. The woman's muscles were evident in her arms, abdomen, and legs. Even injured and unconscious, the woman's tall and sleek form demanded authority. Alicia, out of pure respect, directed her attention solely to the woman's wounds, and did not allow her eyes to wander, as difficult of a chore as that was. When the cleaning was done, Alicia sewed up the cuts that needed a needle and thread, and then put a bandage around each scrape. By the time all of the woman's wounds were taken care of, Alicia realized it was past two in the afternoon already. The tall, nameless, and still unconscious woman that lay before her had occupied her entire day. But the rancher didn't mind. She could only hope no one would come looking for an Indian anytime soon.
Everyone was out to get the natives, for one reason or another, although Alicia had yet to figure out why the people had to be bothered at all. As far as she was concerned, there was no reason to put a bounty on all Indians' heads, just because they were different. If anyone asked her if she had seen any Indians, she knew what she'd say: no. There was no way she would turn the injured woman over to the authorities, nor would she allow them to take her if they found her. The feisty blonde decided then and there, as she covered the hurt woman with a light blanket for privacy from her nude body, that she would do everything in her power to help her. Several hours later, at dusk, as Alicia came in from feeding the horses, she was surprised to see that her guest was moving. The woman still seemed to be unconscious, but she was thrashing about in her sleep, mumbling angrily.

Unsure if it was wise to approach the stranger during a nightmare, Alicia finally said, "Oh, forget it!" and went to the woman's side.

"Hey," she soothed, brushing the dark hair back from the bronzed face, gently. "It's okay. You're safe here." Repeating the phrase several times, Alicia smiled when the woman quieted down, and seemed to sleep a little easier.

Alicia threw a blanket on the ground, covered up with a sheet, and slept on the floor next to the couch, determined not to leave her guest alone if she was prone to nightmares. Closing her eyes, the blonde fell asleep quickly, listening to the even breaths of the woman above her. Alicia woke up at dawn the next morning, and found that her back was not happy with sleeping on the floor rather than the comfortable bed, as she stretched in an attempt to lessen the discomfort. Her green eyes caught sight of the slumbering Indian that slept soundly on her couch, and Alicia noticed the beautiful turquoise and ivory beaded necklace that fit snugly around her neck. She had been too occupied with the woman's injuries to pay much attention to anything else. There was a feather earring in her left ear, and a wound on the right ear suggested a previous adornment had been crudely torn out. Save a small, disc-like tattoo on the back of her right hand, the woman had no other markings. Alicia knew she was Apache, and also knew the arrow she had removed from the tall woman's shoulder was of the same tribe. Taking the sharp knife and its sheath, which she had removed the night before, for fear of the Indian harming herself during her nightmare, Alicia rested it on the back of the couch. Sure that the woman would sleep a while longer, Alicia got up to prepare breakfast, after feeding her horses. As she finished pouring the warm porridge - which was almost all she had left in the way of food, she needed to head into town but wouldn't leave her Indian guest alone - into a small bowl, a loud crash sent her running into the living room. What she saw brought her heart to her throat. Looking purely savage, the tall woman stood in the center of the room, beside the fallen sofa - which would account for the noise that grabbed Alicia's attention. Her feet were bare, as she steadied her stance, her legs strong. The Indian was not nude, but instead wore her torn and blood encrusted leather garbs. Her knife was held tightly in her right hand, her blue eyes were hot and angry, and her ebony hair fell across her shoulders, the beaded choker around her neck seeming to enhance her presence.

"Shii natseed nih!" she cried, her voice crazed. "Shii natseed nih!"

"I won't hurt you," said Alicia, softly, hoping that if the woman couldn't understand her words, she'd at least sense the kindness in her tone. "You're safe here. It's okay." Her hands spread wide, Alicia continued to talk soothingly to the hostile - and very tall, Alicia noticed - Indian, who just glared at her, before deciding the white woman was close enough, and slashing at her with the knife.

The blonde took a step back, startled, but unhurt. "I bet you're hungry," she said, and held up a finger. "Wait here." Hurrying into the next room, she retrieved the bowl of porridge, and offered it to the woman.

"Take it," she insisted.

Hefting the weight in her left hand, the tall Indian warily brought it to her nose, before flinging it against the wall with a snarl. The dish shattered, and the meal slid down the wall, as Alicia flinched, and noticed with concern that the woman's exertion had caused her leg wound to reopen, and it was now bleeding freely.

"You're hurt," she said, kneeling next to the woman, peering under the bandage.

"Da'aizhi," said the Indian, frowning at her, her blue gaze intensifying.

Alicia jumped, startled by the deep voice the tall woman possessed when she wasn't yelling, and then went back to the task at hand.

"Da'aizhi!" shouted the woman, loudly, when Alicia's gentle fingers found a sore spot. Grabbing the woman by the throat, she tossed her backwards with her left hand, the strain enough to drop her to the ground as pain spread throughout her body.

The knife was released as she clutched her shoulder, and the small blonde was at her side immediately, returning the couch to its original position and helping the woman to lie down.

"Let me take a look," Alicia requested, gently trying to remove the woman's hand so she could examine the wound.

The Indian attempted to growl at her, but the intimidation didn't work and the woman was in too much pain to put up much of a fight, so Alicia gently pried the strong tattooed hand away from the woman's injured shoulder. Going into the kitchen, she returned with a clean wet cloth she'd dipped in a pot of hot water, and began to cleanse the injury.

"Hela' ndagodinoh'aah niganihi bika'yu shii," she spat, grabbing the rag and throwing it to the ground.

"I need to wash your wound," persisted Alicia. "Otherwise it'll get infected."

"Hela' ndagodinoh'aah niganihi bika'yu shii! Shii natseed nih!"

The blonde sighed. "Fine!" she said, exasperated, as she got to her feet. "Fine. I won't help you. But don't blame me when it hurts even worse later." The aggravated young woman left the Indian on her own, assuming she'd rest, which she did, while Alicia finished her breakfast and cleaned the remains of the porridge that coated the living room wall.

Alicia spent the rest of the day with Mystic's foal, getting the young filly used to her presence. She didn't even stop to eat lunch, not entering the house again until it was dark, and her stomach was grumbling so loudly she wondered if it would scare the horses or wake her guest. I wonder how she's doing, she thought, deciding to take a closer look when she realized the tall woman was asleep. Noticing a slight flush to the dark cheeks, she placed the back of her hand against the Indian's forehead, and was alarmed to feel an intense amount of heat radiating from her body, and yet the tall Indian was shivering uncontrollably. The woman had a fever. A high fever.

"I told her she'd be in trouble," the blonde muttered, as she removed the blanket and quickly undressed the woman. Replacing the thin sheet only for her own morals and the hot-headed woman's privacy, she grabbed a dry rag, dipped it in a bowl of cool water, and began rinsing the Indian's face and neck, planning on moving her ministrations to the injuries soon after.

She did not, however, plan on her patient waking up. A weak hand gripped her wrist, stilling her hand, and Alicia looked into clouded blue eyes.

"You're sick," the blonde said, gently removing the woman's grip. "You've got a fever; it's all right, I won't hurt you. The cool water should help bring down the fever, and then I'll work on your injuries," she explained, as if the Indian could understand her.

Surprisingly, deciding she was too weak to argue or threaten, the tall woman nodded, and seemed to relax. Alicia continued her work in silence, before softly humming a tune she remembered from her childhood, and moving on to the infected wounds as she'd promised. The Indian's sleep was restless and fitful, the fever giving her nightmares, and Alicia was frustrated that nothing she did seemed to help - cool water, small sips of tea she was able to get the woman to swallow - nothing. And she was almost too tired to keep her eyes open. The rancher had just finished her dinner of bread and cheese when a loud cry caused her to bolt to the next room, where the tall native was tossing and turning, cold sweat matting her long black hair, her eyes closed, indicating her nightmare. Ignoring the danger signals, red lights, and yellow flags her mind was sending her, Alicia approached the woman, who was muttering similar phrases as she had earlier, and kneeled beside her.

"Hey," she said, softly, watching as her own hand reached out to touch the still flushed cheek, "it's okay. You're safe."

Blue eyes sprang to life, and the woman looked to Alicia, her dark eyes frightened. She was weak, sick, injured, and naked - she was completely at the mercy of this white woman in front of her. Great Spirit, she thought, closing her eyes when she saw the woman's hand come towards her to strangle her, grant me a quick death... is she humming? She's touching my hair? What is she doing? I thought I was the one who scalped! Chancing a quick glance, the Indian opened her eyes, and an eyebrow arched its way upward. The young blonde was absentmindedly stroking the raven tresses as she tried to stay awake, talking quietly to the Indian, whom she thought was still asleep.

"Da'aizhi," she ordered, as best she could, her voice hoarse. She felt disgusted with herself for enjoying the calming presence of the young blonde. After all, she wasn't supposed to like the kindness of a white... was she? Because they all hated Indians... didn't they?

Alicia pulled her hand back, clearly startled. "Oh, I'm sorry," she voiced. "Well, if you're awake, I guess it's time to get more tea inside you." Adding hot water to the nearly full mug, the rancher hoped it was warm, and gave it to the Indian, who took it in both hands and simply stared at Alicia like she was nuts.

"Please drink it," she said. She was tired, sore, and hungry, but the determined woman would not sleep until she knew her guest was all right. "It'll help you sleep, and take down the fever." Sighing when the tall woman didn't move, Alicia took a swallow herself, and handed it back, saying, "Now, drink the rest. It's not poisoned, I assure you."

With a wary glance to the blonde, the Indian tried a small sip, and then downed the rest of the mug in three swallows. Smiling a little, Alicia took the empty cup, and placed it in the kitchen, only to return to find a deeply sleeping, dark-skinned, ill, Indian warrior woman. That's what the tall woman had reminded her of when she was armed with her knife - a strong warrior of the Ancient world; Alicia was more afraid of that side of the Indian than the cowboy outlaws that terrorized the present.

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 23 ruj 2012 18:23

majka i dijete sa srčanom manom...njihova borba za život je tema magistarskog rada mlade liječnice

~ The Heart of the Matter ~
by Cephalgia

The two days between sessions with Crystal passed quickly for Lauren. That was due in large part to her bad habit of answering her phone. If she hadn't answered her phone, she wouldn't have talked on Wednesday to the day Charge Nurse in the Pediatric ICU. If she hadn't talked to her, she wouldn't have heard how short handed they would have to work if Lauren didn't pick up an extra twelve-hour shift that night. What a sucker for a sob story I am, Lauren thought as she drove to Crystal's house. I absolutely have got to get caller ID. A mid-morning dentist appointment and abbreviated sleep had left her bordering on exhaustion. If it were anybody but Crystal, I'd have called this evening off. The Mustang made the final turn onto the street where Crystal lived. The nurse drove slowly as she looked for the house number. Finding it, she pulled up in front of an older home that showed a few more signs of wear than the others in the neighborhood. It was far from dilapidated, but it did need a little attention. Dusk had fallen and lights were visible through a large picture window and a smaller window to the left of the larger one. Though the house wasn't in peak condition, it exuded a cheerfulness that made it seem inviting somehow. Lauren walked up to the front door, passing by Crystal's minivan and a Honda Civic she didn't recognize. As she reached to knock on the door, the owner opened it. Crystal wasn't alone; Patsy Cohen from the support group was with her.

"It was Thursday evening that I was supposed to be here, correct?" Lauren questioned. "And this is Thursday, right?" she asked, suddenly unsure. She thought back rapidly…she went to work on Wednesday night and then stayed up to go to the dentist. She then slept for a few hours; it should still be Thursday.

"Yes and yes," Crystal assured her. "Patsy was just taking off; come on in." Lauren moved past the two women and into a cluttered but clean living room. Her peripheral vision noted Crystal giving Patsy a quick hug.

"Call me when you find out anything," Crystal said, patting the older woman on the back.

"I will and thanks again, sweetie," Patsy answered as she moved away and headed out the door. "I have my cell phone if you need me." Crystal watched Patsy leave and closed the door behind her. She turned back to the living room and her guest.

"Hey, how are you?" she asked Lauren, "Other than tired, I mean. Work last night?"

"It shows, huh?" the nurse said in reply.

"A little around the edges."

Lauren smiled. "I bet." She nodded her head in the direction of the departing Patsy. "Everything okay?"

Crystal hesitated; she liked Lauren, but wasn't quite sure how much of that like translated to trust yet. She opted for something vague. "A little family problem. I'm going to keep Sydney here a day or two. Needless to say Davey is ecstatic. Now he has a cohort for his X-box. I've tried it, but I'm no competition."

"I know what you mean. The first time I tried to play one of those things I was convinced I had yet to fully take advantage of evolution. My opposable thumbs just couldn't seem to keep up with my twelve year old niece."

Crystal laughed quietly. "You can feel a little left out of the loop. Davey can do everything but have the characters on the screen make you breakfast and I take the controller and can't make the darn things even run in the direction I want!" She suddenly noticed they were still standing in the living room. "Hey, I was going to get something to drink, you want anything? She nodded at a doorway that led to the kitchen beyond.

"Whatever you're having will be fine," Lauren said, following her hostess into the kitchen.

"Okay," Crystal said walking over to the refrigerator. She removed a large pitcher and poured two glasses of thin orange fluid that Lauren didn't recognize. The nurse was handed one of the glasses and took a cautious sip.

"I know that flavor..." She began.

"Tang," Crystal said. "I loved it as a kid and I still do…sugar-free of course now. Got to have something to balance out the sugar blast of these chocolate chip cookies." She brought out a large plastic storage container from a nearby cabinet. Lauren's mouth watered when the lid was opened. Honest to goodness real homemade chocolate chip cookies, she hadn't tasted one in years. Baking had been an elusive conquest and most baked goods in Lauren's kitchen came directly from the Nabisco kitchens instead of her own. One bite convinced the nurse that Nabisco had nothing on Crystal.

"Oh my God! These are fantastic! How do you get them all soft and chewy like this? Mine never come out like that." She finished the first cookie and reached for a second before thinking that maybe she was making a pig of herself.

"Go on," Crystal urged. "Take as many as you want. Oddly enough Safeway has yet to run out of chocolate chips so I think I might just be able to make more."

"Can I be here when you do? There's got to be a secret to this racket that I haven't been let in on." Lauren blushed as she realized she had just invited herself over to Crystal's house again.

"I think we might be able to squeeze in a little cookie making in between the thesis writing," Crystal assured her. "You want to sit in the living room or stay in here?"

"The living room, I think. There's way too much temptation in here." Lauren took a seat in the living room as Crystal took a few cookies back to the kids.

"They're currently engrossed in saving the world from something that looks like a cross between a vampire and my third grade teacher," she said on her return. She dropped into the recliner opposite the sofa Lauren was seated on. "Now that I think about it, my third grade teacher was scarier than a vampire."

"I didn't get my scary one until I was in sixth grade. That was the first time we lived in Texas and it was when my parents decided they would retire there eventually. Miss Shaw was the teacher. As I think about it now I realize she looked like Joan Crawford with a lazy eye." Lauren paused to take a sip of her Tang. "That was the last year I had one teacher for every subject during the day. I didn't appreciate then what a hard job that must have been, to teach everything, I mean. I just knew that all day, every school day, I was under the control of Miss Shaw."

Lauren smiled wryly at the memories. "When my parents retired back to Texas, I saw Miss Shaw in the local grocery store. She had a grocery basket of microwaveable meals for one and a big bag of cat food. I realized then that I didn't know a damn thing about her or her life and I've tried not to be scared of anyone without reason since then."

Crystal tilted her head to the side in thought. "Why were you scared of her in the first place?"

Lauren raised her eyebrows. "It was the eye. I always felt like it knew just what I was doing all the time. I've never been a morning person and I hated to go to bed on time. I was almost always tired in the morning. I don't get why school has to start at eight. What's wrong with noon anyway? Anyhow, I would be tired and get sleepy and my eyelids would droop. That's when she would call on me. Every time."

"Stop! You're giving me goose bumps with a terrifying story like that," Crystal gently teased. "You're still a night person I take it? On the night shift voluntarily?"

"Oh yeah. I know I'm a little droopy right now, but real soon I'll start to get my second wind and then we can really get down to work. I'm feeling better already."

Crystal nodded. "Sounds good. I'll tell you what, why don't I get the kids stared on their baths and set up the inflatable bed for Sydney. You just relax and we can sit and talk for as long as you like when I get done. Need anything?"

"How about the TV remote? Maybe I can catch up with what's been going on in the world while I've been working. You get Headline News?"

Crystal picked up the remote from the table next to the recliner. "Channel 36…I don't have a lot of time for the news either," she said as she tossed the object to Lauren. "Be back in a couple of minutes." Lauren watched Crystal walk down the hall and appreciated the sight of firm buns moving in snug jeans.

Must be more tired than I think. Now I'm ogling straight women. Waste of time, girl. Lauren watched until Crystal disappeared into what she assumed was a back bedroom. Maybe not a total waste of time. I just made sure my eyes are still working and they're still connected to my pulse. Settling back into the comfortable sofa, Lauren quickly found the Headline News channel. She slipped off her trainers and her feet thanked her for the sensation of freedom as she turned her attention to the broadcast. Now what the heck is George W. up to?

Crystal came back up the hall. It had taken her fifteen minutes to set up the bed and get the kids ready for baths. Sydney was washing up in the main bathroom and Davey was waiting his turn and brushing his teeth in the small bathroom off her bedroom. The sound of the sports part of Headline News could be heard coming from the living room. I wonder if she's a sports fan too? That would be great. Her friend, Trish, couldn't stand sports and Crystal loved most of them. As she entered the living room, she was greeted with heavy breathing. It wasn't a snore exactly, just the deep slow breathing of heavy sleep. Lauren was pressed back into the cushions of the sofa, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. In sleep, her face seemed relaxed and peaceful and Crystal didn't have the heart to wake her. She gently removed the remote from where it lay on Lauren's lap and turned the volume down low. She clicked off the lights in the living room, locked the front door and headed back down the hall to the kids. She stopped for a moment and turned around. Lauren's heavy breathing continued rhythmically and for a moment Crystal just watched her sleep. Then she walked to the sofa and draped the afghan sitting on the sofa's back over her guest. She moved a stray lock of hair off Lauren's face. It really is an attractive look for her. Crystal went back up the hall, hearing the unmistakable sounds of soapy bath water splashing onto the bathroom floor.

Why the Prime Minister of England would be speaking to her about international terrorism, she couldn't say, but he was. Lauren cracked open one eye and saw the news report on Tony Blair. Just the TV, she thought and closed the eye again. The feeling of mortification warred mightily with the feeling of comfort she had been experiencing only moments before. My apartment, my apartment… please. Opening the same eye that had been open previously, Lauren was confronted with what was the "worst" on her worst possible scenario list. She had fallen asleep on Crystal's couch.
With both eyes now open she took stock of the situation. She was curled up on her side with an afghan covering her from toes to shoulders. If the nearly overwhelming need to find a bathroom wasn't prodding her to get up, she might actually have considered staying there for a while longer.
Giving in to bodily needs, she got up from the couch. The television provided sufficient light to guide her down the hall in a search for the bathroom. Peering in to the first room on the right, she found two kids fast asleep. Davey's room was crowded with all of the boy's things plus the inflatable bed placed on the floor. Looking at the peacefully slumbering children it was hard to imagine they were both afflicted with serious heart problems. They look like anybody else's kids. Lauren thought a moment. They could be anybody else's kids. It could happen to anyone. Her bladder interrupted her thoughts and she remembered why she had come down the hall in the first place. She continued on her search, passing first by a closed door that proved to be a closet and then a room apparently used for storage before finding the bathroom. Finishing relieving her most pressing problem, she washed her face and straightened out the parts of her hair that were sticking out sideways. She turned off the light and waited a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dark before she opened the bathroom door again. She walked a few steps further down the hall, wondering if she should tell Crystal she was leaving. She found the blonde in the last bedroom on the right. Muted moonlight beamed softly in through partially open curtains. Lauren took a step into the bedroom and knew she wouldn't be able to wake Crystal. She smiled as she noticed the blonde slept to one side of the bed, the other side virtually undisturbed. So different from me. She watched Crystal sleep another minute or two, feeling suddenly and inexplicably protective of the other woman.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Crystal," she whispered as she left the room. Her friend slept on as Lauren made her way back to the living room. She folded up the afghan and took her glass into the kitchen. She rinsed it and put the glass in the sink. She returned to the other room and sat briefly on the couch to put her trainers back on. She then picked up her bag and went to the front door.

Opening the door silently, she turned the lock on the knob and let herself out into the cool San Diego night. Making sure the door had locked behind her, Lauren walked to her car, but couldn't shake the feeling she was leaving something special behind her.

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I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 24 ruj 2012 21:18

vrhunski sport...borba protiv teške bolesti

~ America's Sweetheart ~
by Catherine Burke

Pacing the small side room, Gwen was not enjoying her visit. Between the weather and their schedules at odds, she was unable to meet up with Bobby. The Motors left for the game in Cleveland early this morning. The team should be back late tonight, but not in time for Bobby to accompany her to the banquet. Emerald's event was being held at the Weston Inn. Hannah arranged the details months ago. Gwen didn't do well with details. She just wanted to do as much as she could for the organization. Emerald was a foundation whose mission was to raise funds for cancer research and assist families of those in need. The representative from Emerald had asked Gwen to wait in the Weston Alumni room. Gwen didn't think anything about it until she saw photographs of Keegan plastered on every wall. Gwen turned her deep soft brown eyes to a full faced photo of her ex-girlfriend. Tentatively, she traced her finger over a photo of Keegan's laughing smile and dancing eyes. She knew the smile and look. She knew the photo was taken on one of the most important days in Keegan's life. In the background, the scoreboard showed the Mustangs beating the Raiders. Keegan scored the winning goal and led Weston to the Division II National Championship. Gwen's stomach ached, her head hurt as the threat of a migraine was brewing. The trip was turning into a very emotional journey. Not only did being in Detroit remind Gwen of Keegan, the run in with Ted Redding's mother at the airport and now at the banquet, she was waiting in the university's sports alumni room. She thought of the brunette every where she went. The wave of emotions she was riding felt like a roller coaster. The sound of a door opening behind Gwen brought her out her mussing. Gwen turned to see Mrs. Preston enter the room. The elegant older woman approached with a slight limp. Gwen greeted her.

"Ms. Lerner, thank you for coming. Is there anything you need?"

"Thank you, but I am fine." Gwen answered. "I just hope that we are able to make the goal." The foundation had a goal of five hundred thousand dollars for tonight's dinner.

"We are a success so far, Danny Martin and Ashley Whitmore of Helping Hands Corporation are here. They are wonderful women and have quite a story. They donate time and resources to assist with donors and transplants."

"I look forward to meeting them." Gwen smiled and gestured towards Mrs. Preston's limp. "Old injury?"

"No arthritis. It's the weather. One of these days, I'm going to convince Mr. Preston to move to Florida for the winter months."

Eve Preston took in the attractive woman standing in front of her. She had seen Gwen on television shows, commercials and magazine covers. The cameras loved her smile and her personality bubbled over making her a favorite of the public. The photos and television did not do justice to actually seeing the woman in person.

"Where are the other guests?" Gwen asked feeling strange that she was the only person waiting in Alumni Room.

"They are gathering in the back stage area."

"Then why am I in here?" Gwen wondered why she stood alone in the waiting area.

"Oh, I thought we would give you a grand entrance for the celebrity that you are." Her voice an octave higher as she waved her arms enthusiastically.

"Mrs. Preston, I'd rather join the others, if you don't mind." A small frown appeared on Mrs. Preston's face. Gwen knew she had just taken the wind out of her sails. "I don't consider myself a celebrity. I love coming to fundraisers like this because I can be just Gwen."

"Gwen, you're America's Sweetheart." Her hand fell across her heart. "I was concerned for."

"First off, I'm from San Jose. The only concern I have is raising enough money."

"Then come with me. I'll introduce you to the other guests." The excitement was back in the gray haired woman's voice. They made their way to the door of the reception area with an even, steady gait. As soon as Eva Preston gestured for Gwen to enter, the attention of the room focused on the tall blonde. There were dozens of people mingling and chatting as they awaited the start of the banquet.

"This is Danny Martin, one of the women who I told you about earlier." Mrs. Preston introduced the tall slender woman with the athletic build. Gwen took a moment to stare at the smoky gray eyes. She had to take a moment, as Keegan's face flashed in her mind. The photos from the other room were playing tricks on her. Danny, or Danielle, Martin was attractive, her reddish brown hair was pulled away from her face and held back in a simple French twist. Her makeup light, and stylish, gave her a natural appearance. Wearing a tailored gray tweed suit jacket and matching wrap skirt with a sheer pink blouse, Danny stood as tall or taller than Gwen's five nine frame. Just below the surface in her silver eyes there was sadness. On her lapel, like each person in the room, was the green ribbon pin to symbolize supporting the efforts of the Emerald Foundation.

"Hello, Ms Lerner. It's a pleasure to meet you." Danny held out her hand.

"Please call me Gwen. I'm not use to the formalities. Frankly, it makes me uncomfortable." Gwen shook her hand. Danny noted the Irish wedding band ring Gwen wore on her right ring finger.

"Okay, Gwen. Call me, Danny."

"Absolutely. Do we know each other, you seem so familiar." Gwen couldn't place the face but the eyes she had seen before.

"Actually we met a few years ago at O'Hare. I think you were traveling back from the World Cup." Danny flushed. Gwen guessed her age to be a few years younger than her thirty-one. "I was traveling with Ashley Whitmore, my business partner."

Heading to Phoenix for a conference, she and Ashley ran into Keegan and the national team as they flew through Chicago on their way back to the West Coast. Ashley arranged to meet her sister in one of the private rooms during the layover. Danny spent most of the time drooling over the gorgeous women of the national team. Staying to herself and keeping out of the way, she wanted her best friend to have a private visit with her older sister.

"I don't recall but it's not like I'm not in an airport. It's nice meeting you again. Mrs. Preston says your company works with a database of donors." Danny nodded. "I find the name is quite interesting. There has to be a story behind it. Do tell."

Danny's silver eyes fluttered across the room looking for Ashley. She was bad about lying. She knew who Gwen was. She had been there during the party the hospital held for the Olympics. The Alumni association rented a big screen TV and prompted the local cable provider to hook up HD and all access channels for coverage of the games. Not sure how much information to share with Gwen, she took the road of ignorance is bliss. In order not to get in the middle of a bad situation, she wanted bliss.

"Our company develops software. As a special project, we have created a network for donors and their families. We do everything from finding organ and marrow donors to making sure the entire family is cared for. We try to focus on kids giving other kids a chance." She smiled and thought about the company name. "Our friendship inspired the name. We knew there was a need for some type of network." Danny smiled and lifted her wine glass to her lips. Danny failed to inform her audience that she and her best friend had been drinking heavily when the inspiration came over them. "Ashley and I were friends in college. We went into a partnership with a software development company. Our involvement with Emerald started when her sister needed a bone marrow transplant. When we realized that there were a limited number of people registered as living donors, especially bone marrow, we wanted to find a match but we wanted to create a way for other families to find donors. The process is not hard on the donor. The patient has a hard time as their body adjusts to the donated marrow. It can be very painful, but it is what they need to continue living."

"What happened with her sister, did she ever find a donor?"

"That's where Ashley started to think outside the box. You'll hear the story tonight." Danny watched for the name to register with the former Olympian. "We try to encourage people to get tested because there is a need. There is just such a need for healthy donors. Getting the word out and making people aware of the options out there. Plus we will do anything we can do to help Emerald raise money. It's a great organization that has helped our families immensely over the years." Trying to steer the conversation from the Garry family to a safer ground, Danny thought about Gwen's contribution to the organization. "Are you doing the Emerald public service announcement this year?" At Gwen's nod, Danny continued. "You've been doing them for close to ten years now. Haven't you?"

"Since being on the National team. The early ones are pretty funny…my hair and outfits. Ten plus years….wow I never thought of it like that. Mrs. Martin you've succeeded in making me feel old."

"It's Danny and I'm sorry. I'm too blunt." Danny smiled at the blonde who was beautiful. She could see how Keegan could easily lose her heart to this woman in front of her.

"Is Mr. Martin joining you this evening?"

"There is no Mr. Martin." Danny winked at her as she turned to find Ashley.

Jesus Christ. Gwen thought watched the tall redhead walk away. What was going on? Women were hitting on her left and right first the woman at the airport and now Danny Martin.

"The Emerald Foundation is pleased to announce this year's recipient of Emerald's Company of the Year, Helping Hands Corporation owners Danielle Martin and Ashley Whitmore!" The announcer introduced the woman with bright silver eyes and a small reddish blonde woman. Gwen assumed it was Ashley Whitmore. Danny Martin waved to the crowd as she stood and lifted her hand to her business partner. Ashley Whitmore stood pushing back her seat and lifting her blazing blue eyes to meet Gwen's. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the soccer star. As the woman smiled and locked eyes with her, Gwen could not shake the familiar feeling of knowing her. The strawberry haired woman with the sky blue eyes carried the same sad emptiness in her eyes as her business partner. When Ashley reached the podium, she seemed to struggle for a moment taking a deep breath before speaking.

"We all have stories of loved ones lost and loved ones saved. In some way, cancer has touched our lives. It could be family, friends, someone at your church, a neighbor or even a co-worker. If we go around the room and tell our stories, I'm sure none of us would have a dry eye. The story I'm going to tell you deals with my son, Andy." Ashley beamed proudly when she spoke of her child. "My son Andy is what I would call a planned pregnancy. It wasn't because I was quickly approaching the dreaded third decade of my life. He wasn't planned because I needed a child to save my marriage. In fact, by the time I was pregnant, my divorce was final. You need to understand, that my beautiful loving sister was diagnosed with leukemia. There were treatments she endured with the hope to cure her illness. Between the radiation and chemotherapy her entire immune system was wiped out. She was very fragile and her doctors advised her only hope for survival was to find a bone marrow donor. As easy as this may sound, my family and I realized that finding a donor to match was like finding a needle in a haystack. The odds were stacked against us. We called in every favor to ask people to be potential donors. We tested family, friends, teammates, and the majority of the students at Weston University but the closest match we found was with me. By all rights, my marrow was not perfect match and would not help my sister survive. She needed a specific marrow, or at least a closer match than we could find or I could be. 100 billion people on the planet and we couldn't find a match with the resources we had." Ashley paused as she smiled shyly at Danny. "I became pregnant with the hopes that my child would be able to serve as a donor for my sister. She paused for a moment. "I gave birth to my son, Andy." She stopped speaking letting the audience register her words. "My son was a perfect marrow match for my sister. The doctors were able to harvest the umbilical cord and the stem cells. The cells provided enough marrow start the transplant process. It was during this time Emerald came into our lives. My family and I were able to travel and to stay with my sister through her treatment. She didn't have to worry about her bills because anything that wasn't covered by insurance, Emerald took care of." Ashley stepped back and began to applaud the Emerald board members. "Through the use of radiation and drugs, my sister's immune system was closely monitored so her body would not reject the donor marrow. Isolated in a private room, her visitors and caretakers were required to go through a lengthy process of sterilization before they could enter. There was no guarantee her body would accept the donor marrow. We just prayed. This is when time felt as if it stood still. We waited and waited. The doctors needed to see if the marrow would be accepted and if it would begin to generate new cells. Six weeks after the transplant, her body was accepting the donor cells and began to create new marrow. A successful procedure, but she still needed to continue treatment. She followed doctor's instructions and went through preventative measures so her body would continue to accept the donated marrow. As maintenance for the leukemia, she regularly visits her specialist. She continues to be concerned for her health and will never quite be completely cured. From experience, I do not advise getting pregnant to find a donor." The remark got a slight laugh from the audience. "Four years ago, my business partner, Danielle Martin, and I decided to use the resources our company, Helping Hands Corporation to develop and maintain a donor data base for Emerald. You heard me state earlier that there are over 100 billion people on the plant. At this time, our database contains over 400 thousand files on possible donor matches. The database assists in matching donors with patients. We maintain information on bone marrow, on organ donations and a network of resources available in cities around the world. So if you are in Detroit or Dallas, our company allows you to find information on that city. If you're in Des Moines and your children want to go to school, we provide a network of educational institutions, which are willing to assist. For those families who need the support in a strange town, we offer assistance on what hotel to stay at or where to find extended living accommodations. Emerald was there for my family in a time, of need, we wanted to be there for other families when they needed the support. Andy was two months old before he was ever held by his aunt. His birth saved my sister's life. We have had a few bumps in the road, but Andy is a rambunctious three year old. I'm happy to report my sister is a year plus in remission and moving forward with her life." The crowd broke out in a round of applause. "So tonight is about raising money to make sure those who need receive the care, funds and support they need. So open up your check books folks and help Emerald provide that assistance." A cheer went up from the audience along with an array of claps and whistles. The speaker reached for her water glass with a shaky hand. Her eyes landed squarely on Gwen. Their gazes locked for what felt like minutes but totaled a few seconds.

Gwen struggled to hold back the tears as Ashley Whitmore's story touched her deeply. As the speaker returned to her seat, Gwen stood to greet her with a hug. The emotions of one family's struggle with the disease echoed so many of the audience member's lives. Watching and listening to the story of Ashley Whitmore and her sister's battles with cancer brought the audience to tears. Gwen struggled to hold her composure as her heart went out to the woman at the podium and her family. "I just wanted to give you a hug." Gwen confessed as she approached the speaker. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Is your sister here with you?"

"She is actually at home with Andy." Ashley's voice was hollow as her eyes locked with Gwen's.

"That's too bad. I'd like to meet her. She sounds like a remarkable person." Gwen said lightly. Watching the play of emotions on Ashley Whitmore's face revealed just how much her family had sacrificed.

"Do you have a moment afterwards, I'd like to talk with you about an idea my business partner and I have." Ashley said as a genuine smile appeared on her face and the sadness from earlier was gone.

"I've met Ms. Martin. It would be a pleasure to get a little more insight on what you do. I've had a few friends that have been screened for donors, but I haven't." Gwen thought about conversations with Shannon and former teammate Carol Edwards. Carol actually donated her marrow to a young mother in Texas. "If you don't mind, I'm staying at the hotel. We could meet in the main bar or restaurant."

"Not a problem. My sister is keeping Andy for the night." Ashley hunted in her purse for a business card. She wrote her cell phone on the back. "Let's say ten o'clock at the restaurant. That way, we can tie up loose ends here besides, its time to mingle and hit them in the pocket book. If something comes up, just call the number." Ashley gave her a quick wink just like Danny did earlier. "Folks don't forget why we are here!" Ashley called. "Open those checkbooks!"

Stepping off the stage, Gwen flipped the business card over and read the tri-colored print. The company name and logo showed two little girls holding hands. It read: Helping Hands Corporation, President and CFO, Ashley Garry-Whitmore. Gwen grabbed the nearest table. She knew the speaker looked familiar. She stared into the same blazing blue eyes of her ex-girlfriend. Except it wasn't Keegan Garry, it had been Ashley. Ashley Whitmore was Ashley Garry, Keegan's sister. The woman who had just spoke of her sister's battle with leukemia. Was it Keegan? Or Meghan? Gwen felt the queasiness in her stomach as it rolled, remembering the harsh words she exchanged with Tara Washington on the soccer field. Like a ton of bricks, much more important things on her plate, Tara's words echoed in her head. Keegan had been battling cancer at that time. How long ago was that? Four years ago? When did the league form? Christ! The room began swimming as an endless number of faces passed in front of Gwen. The surge of well wisher's and fans who wanted to meet and have their photo taken with the former Olympian. With every ounce of strength she possessed, Gwen put on the public image her fans knew well, although inside, her emotions were about to erupt in chaos. The knowledge of Keegan being sick threw her off balance. Her brain raced through past events trying to figure out what she missed. They were together in Miami. Keegan got hurt in practice earlier in the day and came to Gwen's room as soon as she could. They spent the evening together, talking, laughing and making love. The pain she felt when she found out her girlfriend had left without telling her. When Keegan left her room, Gwen knew her girlfriend was holding something back. Tonight she learned Keegan battled leukemia for a number of years. Why didn't anyone tell her? Surely one of her teammates knew about Keegan being ill. Not just an illness, leukemia. Trying to rack her brain about the well know ailment, Gwen knew the disease affected a person's white blood cells. Standing in the middle of a banquet room, she felt as if she was getting crushed. The protective shell of the security staff surrounding her shrank as the fans tried to get closer. On more than one occasion, Gwen had to deal with an over zealous crowd. Tonight, she didn't want to feel exposed, wanted to escape. She needed to escape. Retreat to her room and digest the information Ashley Whitmore-Garry recanted. The middle Garry child opened the lid of Pandora's Box. When Keegan left the team, her family released a statement to the press stating she left team for an emergency appendectomy. After the team won the gold medal, the speculation surrounding Keegan faded away. The fiery player dropped out of the soccer world. There were no stories, no information from the family or from the National Team. Gwen looked at her watch. She'd have to wait until ten to find the answers to the questions running through her head. She went over Ashley's speech. Recalling the sibling speaking of her sister's struggles with leukemia, her heart went out to the strawberry blonde. When she realized the sibling was her former partner, she felt her heart break. She should have been there. Ashley's word replayed over and over, like a top forty song the DJ couldn't play enough. Around her, the crowd of people stood gawking as if she was a side show in a carnival; whispers and comments about her being taller, skinner, wrinkled, was all filtering into her auto-sensory system. She needed to find some inner peace for awhile. A surge of anger cascaded through her body, making her limbs shake, her blood pressure rose and her heart pounded violently against her chest. She didn't know who made the decision not to tell her. Was her attitude towards Keegan so distant that people thought she wouldn't care? Hurt by the thoughts that kept Keegan out of her life, she needed to find a way to connect with her. She wanted to remain calm when Ashley told her the story about Keegan's illness. Tonight created a whole new crop of questions regarding Keegan. Where was she, how was she doing, was she happy? She'd talk to Bobby or Shannon. Shannon! Did her friend know? Five years of separation and no one told her Keegan could possibly be dying. What would Keegan think of her today? She knew she made mistakes. The biggest one was hitting on Meghan Garry, while in DC. She blamed Bobby for the incident. In DC promoting the International Games, Gwen and Bobby were invited to a golf excursion at the country club in the DC suburb. Bobby, an average golfer, accepted the lessons to prevent embarrassment. During the first nine holes, he teased Gwen endlessly about the "hot pro" at the club. At the turn, Gwen followed Bobby to the pro shop. He wanted to let "Meg" know his game was going well and introduce Gwen to her. Gwen immediately caught sight of the beautiful pro whose hand rested lightly on Bobby's forearm as she gently maneuvered the limb into position. From behind, Gwen took her time admiring the long tan legs that disappeared under a camel color wrap around golf skirt. Her gaze continued over the well shaped gluts to her narrow waist. Her shirt was the color of blue bells and was neatly tucked at the waist. The sports shirt clung to her body running tautly across the shoulders. A muscular arm was wrapped around Bobby's side as she led him through his practice swing. She coached the hockey player on his approach.

"Mr. Finch, I would suggest loosening your grip. Remember you're not on the ice. No one is bearing down on you to take the puck away."

"I think all the green has got him confused." Gwen said as she strolled to Bobby's side flicking the brim of his hat.

"Ha! Ha!" He swiped at her antics. The gesture was fleeing as he never came close to hitting her.

"Having fun?"

"Yep, kicking your butt is always fun. This is Meg. The golf pro I was telling you about." Bobby gestured to the dark haired woman next to him. Gwen openly admired the pro's body from the front and was not disappointed.

"Would you be available for a private lesson later on Miss..." Gwen purposely dropped her voice to a sweet contralto drawing out her words so her message was received clearly. She didn't do this often in public, but Bobby didn't care. Hell, he encouraged it through out the first nine holes of play.

"It's Garry. Meg Garry." The introduction drew Gwen's attention to the fine lines of the woman's face. The last time she had seen Meghan was during visit to Michigan. Meghan was nineteen at the time. "I'm not available for any type of lessons. If you ask for Marty Bloom, the other pro, he may have a time open." Gwen lifted her eyes from Meg's chest to her eyes and she knew. She was looking at twins of blue, a trait of all the Garry sisters. But this was the wrong Garry. This one wasn't the sister who held her heart. With a quick nod, Meghan stomped off.

"Wow, I read that completely wrong. I'm sorry. I really thought she'd be your type."

"Oh I think she is." Gwen looked at the surrounding shop. To the displays of clubs, racks of clothing and over to the wall behind the cashier where the pictures of the club pro's were hung. There she was Meghan Garry. "It's just I used to date her sister. We didn't part on best terms."

"Try to keep it in your pants for the rest of the visit." Bobby snickered as he sorted through a rack of golf shirts.

"Jerk. I wouldn't even be in this position if you hadn't suggested it." She punched him in the arm. She wondered if Meg would mention the meeting to Keegan. She knew it would go over like a lead balloon.

Gwen took a page out of Ashley's play book and began to work the crowd if she was going to have to mingle among her fans, she might as well solicit donations for Emerald. A quick stop to her room and with a small favor from the concierge, Gwen arranged for a table in the quieter section of the restaurant. As she entered the restaurant foyer, she spotted Danny and Ashley sitting at the corner table. A bottle of wine sat chilling on the table. Both women sipped leisurely on the beverage. Her eyes held tight to the strawberry blonde as she walked through the crowd trying to ignore the whispers following her appearance. Her stomach had been doing back flips since she learned of Keegan's sickness. Ashley came to her feet and greeted Gwen with a powerful hug. As they broke apart, Ashley found her voice and whispered,

"Are you okay?" Flash bulbs went off as a fan snapped the moment. Gwen flinched knowing she would be a headline tomorrow.

"There is so much I want to talk about." With a nod of her head, the offer to talk was accepted. Maybe she could get the answers she was looking for. "I don't know if I'm upset or angry." Gwen confessed as she poured a generous amount from the bottle of Chablis. The blonde wishing she had a strong drink in her hand. "Keegan will she see me?" Gwen asked. Her heart pounded against her chest. Her emotional roller coaster settled for the moment.

"I'm … not sure. She hasn't been much for company. She didn't want to come tonight because you were here. Lately her emotions have been all across the board." Ashley said. Sensing the blonde's disappointment, she continued. "She still has a connection to you." Ashley and Danny stole a cautious look at one another.

"She hates me." Gwen spoke her thoughts out loud. The women shook their heads in disagreement.

"She loved you. She has gotten past a relationship that ended. She has a good life. She has family and friends." Ashley spoke softly as she squeezed Gwen's hand lightly.

"I am glad for her." Gwen's voice shook a bit with her answer. "I would still like to see her. Is there anyway? Can you give me her number? Take my number." She opened her purse scrambling for a pen and paper to write down the number.

"Gwen," Danny's reservations were evident. "She has gone through a lot. She's not the same person."

"I'm not either." Gwen looked at the dimmed lights hanging on the wall behind Danny. "We had something special." Gwen raised her water goblet to her lips. Her hand shook as she attempted to quench her parched throat. Her words were labored and sincere. "I thought we would be together forever. I should have never walked out of that hospital room." Gwen took a closer look at Danny.

Ashley sat back in her chair. She had watched her sister struggle over the years to cleanse Gwen from her system. They had been through a rough time with treatment. Through the chemotherapy, Keegan would say things that didn't make sense. In one session, she remembered her calling out for Gwen to make the pain go away.

"I'm not going to make any promises." Ashley spoke softly and prayed that her sister would not be angry. "She'll be at the house tomorrow to drop off Andy."

"Your son right?" Gwen asked.

"My little man." Ashley smiled as she reached for her purse to show a picture of her son. She handed the photograph to Gwen. She took in the small boy with the curly black hair and bright blue eyes. She traced her finger over his facial features seeing so much of the Garry family resemblance.

"He's got the eyes. " Gwen said unaware of the smile that had appeared on her face as a memory of holding her naked body over Keegan's and looked into the bright blue eyes and told her she loved her ran through her head. Gwen felt her cheeks flush and she put her glass on the table.

"I don't even want to know where you just went." Danny said to the blonde as she Gwen fidgeted under her gaze.

"Tell me what time to be there." Gwen demanded. She was not letting this opportunity pass her by.

Sitting in her rental car in front Ashley Whitmore's home, Gwen gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her stomach felt as if it were in knots. Using every breathing exercise she had learned to calm down She changed her outfit three times before getting Bobby's approval on her choice of a worn pair Levi's, a blue v-neck sweater over a white blouse and soft brown boots. She checked out of the hotel early. Following Bobby, they went to his townhouse for an early breakfast and a brainstorming session. The possibility of seeing Keegan always made her nervous. Actually seeing the woman after a five year separation had her on edge. She jumped at everything Bobby said even if he agreed with her. She wondered if she and Keegan could pick up where they left off. They hadn't spoken in such a long time. She wondered how to break the ice. Maybe the surprise appearance was a good idea. Although deep down, if she was in Keegan's place, she would like to know what she was walking into. As Shannon reminded her, she wouldn't let them say more than three or four words about Keegan. She would stop the conversation, cutting Keegan out of her life like she had done to her. The last time she actually talked to Kee was in the hospital room. Kee was going in for appendix surgery. Slowly coming back from memory lane, she eased the door of silver SUV open and walked to the front door. Before Gwen could ring the bell, Ashley greeted her.

"Good afternoon, come on in." Ashley welcomed her into the artistically decorated foyer. The two-story colonial stood at the end of a cul de sac. There were houses on each side but at a large distance between neighbors. Between the décor and the furnishings, it was obvious that Ashley did well financially.

"Your home is beautiful." Gwen said as she gazed across the artwork and the warm colors that filled the rooms. The sunlight created a homey feeling that so many other new homes lacked.

"Thank you. Come in to the kitchen, Danny just made a pot of coffee. She is hanging just a little today. The house is a little quieter than normal. We were able to take our time this morning." Ashley walked behind Danny and placed a hand on her neck. "How we feeling Jose?" Danny groaned and slapped her best friends hand away.

"Like crap." She looked at the other women. "Why don't you feel like I do?"

"It's called shots." Ashley smiled and headed towards the stove. "We stopped at a bar on the way home last. Ms. Martin indulged in one to many shots of a Mr. Jose Cuervo. Andy and Keegan are not here yet."

"Thank God. He's a great kid, but he tends to be loud especially on days when I'm not feeling good." Danny put a hand to her forehead wishing the pounding to subside. "Do you want kids, Gwen?"

"Danielle." Ashley called out immediately. "Stop it. Gwen don't answer that question."

"It's okay. I haven't thought about it in a long time. When we were together, we talked about the possibility, but my childhood was pretty unpleasant. I wouldn't want to bring a child up in that type of environment. I could consider it if I had the right person and a good relationship. Some people just want kids to hold on to a relationship that has gone bad." A picture of her mother immediately popped into her head. Gwen wandered towards the picture frames lining the walls between the kitchen and the dinning room. Setting her purse down on the dinning room table, she looked at the snapshots of the Garry family. Seeing for the first time small glimpses of what the family had evolved into.

"How are your parents?"

"Good, they retired to Florida last year. Dad thinks he can whip Meghan in golf since he's playing every day." Ashley handed Danny a ceramic cup of coffee. Gwen continued to study the family photos and a much younger Danny with a brighter shade of red hair stood out.

"You've been around awhile." Gwen backed up two steps to look at the redhead in the eyes. She remembered every aspect of her trip to Michigan prior to the start of the games in Greece. She stopped at the Garry family home looking for Keegan. Danny was the woman who answered the door. A little older not quite as shocked, yes….this was the woman who answered the door. "You were at the house when I came looking for Kee."

For a few moments Danny paused choosing her words wisely. "Yes, it was me." Danny took a breath. "I didn't know too much about the family at that time, in fact it was the second time I'd been to the house." She looked over at Ashley, remembering the day the news came out. When Ashley cried on her shoulder and shared the news of her sister's illness, Danny came along to offer support.

"So you were here during Keegan's illness?" Gwen asked bring her back to the present. When the red head tilted her head to the side and slowly comprehended her question.

"For a period of time. It was hard to be there all the time. Plus Keegan went to so many specialists." Danny stated keeping an eye on Ashley who began to shift uncomfortably. They had agreed earlier to let Keegan tell Gwen the details of her battle.

The small figure with black curls held tightly to Keegan's hand as he scooted out of the car seat and on to the driveway. Ashley had been a bear lately and she hoped her sister was able to get some of her frustration out. Maybe she met some nice handsome man and got lucky. Keegan sighed. She knew Ashley wanted nothing to do with any type of romantic relationship. It was probably the reason her sister hung on to the close relationship with Danny. Jason, the bastard he was, ran her sister through the emotional wringer through out the course of their marriage. He actually tried to ban his wife from seeing her family, especially Keegan, because of her life style. Keegan hoped never to see or hear from the asshole again.

"Up, up" Andy gestured to his aunt. Keegan brushed the small beads of sweat from her brow. She hadn't felt well this morning, just like the previous twelve days. She brushed her jacket down over her stomach and wished the queasiness would pass. Getting bigger and bigger, she wore a pair of bib overalls with a thermal shirt underneath. She just couldn't seem to keep warm. A trip to Florida was looking better and better each day.

"Not today…Aunt Kee doesn't feel the best." She pulled his small arm when his small red boots took a misstep, righting the three year old. A cold March afternoon breeze pushed her shoulder length chocolate brown hair into her face and she combed it back over her ear with her a finger. There was a sterling colored SUV with a small green sticker parked in the driveway. Recognizing the rental car symbol, Keegan wondered who was visiting. Half dragging the precocious three year old to the front door, her breath was ragged and a wave of nausea passed through her again. Last night she could feel the start of a cold coming. With the morning sickness, she expected to be ill and she hoped her body would begin adjusting soon. On Monday she had an appointment for a sonogram. Tony said he wanted to go with her and she was happy to have him along. Having the grizzly looking educator with her seemed to deter Carrie's advances. Maybe with Tony by her side Carrie would understand she wasn't looking for a second parent. She would be the main support and provider for the child. Tony understood his donation did not give him legal rights. He would have no obligation to the baby unless something happened to her. If Keegan were to pass away, Tony could gain custody if he wanted. Otherwise, she was planning on naming her sisters as legal guardians. Her last appointment with Dr. Devon confirmed everything was normal, but she had heard the same diagnosis before. Feeling like crap everyday was not something she bargained for when she started this journey. Neither was getting ill. She needed to boost her system. More vitamin C and whatever else would help her fight off the cold that was trying her senses.

"Looks like you've got company big guy. Ready to see Mommy?"

"Moommy? Miggy? Daaa?" Keegan opened the front door of the Gross Point lakefront two-story colonial. Laughing because Andy's rhyming of Meg's name with a famous Muppet by Jim Henson. For Christmas she bought him a Miss Piggy ornament which Meg found highly offensive.

"No Miggy." Keegan chuckled, knowing her sister would have her hit her if she knew she coached Andy on calling Meghan the name. Ashley bought the house a year before she had Andy. As soon as she was separated, her sister went about the process of eradicating Jason Whitmore from her life. It was the only home Andy had ever known. The front storm door screeched as Keegan opened the full glass door. The heavy front door opened wide as she led her nephew to the foyer. As soon as Andy's toes touched the polished hard wood of the entrance hallway, he ran shrieking with glee into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway jabbering at the occupants of the room. Keegan undid her scarf and took off her Gore-Tex jacket. She wasn't certain what would happen first, spring in Detroit or purchasing a larger coat. If all else failed, she could borrow one from Danny and swim in it.

"Careful your feet are wet!" Keegan yelled at the speedster whose shoes squeaked across the oak planks. The sound of the front door opening and small feet running across the hardwood filled the house.

"Speaking of." Ash said as the conversation in the kitchen ground to a halt. She placed her hand on Gwen's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Where's my man?" Ashley called out as she headed towards the doorway. Every fear ran through her body as Gwen followed Ash into the kitchen. Danny remained seated at the table. Ash squatted at the kitchen entrance as a small dark haired unruly boy with curls that did not stop jumped into her arms and hugged her.

"Were you a good boy?" She greeted her son with a kiss to his forehead.

"He was a prefect gentleman." Keegan's voiced echoed through the kitchen. Gwen felt her heart in her throat as the sound of Keegan approaching. In the center of the kitchen, an island counter top gave her the security and support she needed. Her hands gripped the edge as Andy pointed at her and mumbled something.

Keegan followed her nephew into the kitchen at a slower pace. Her stomach rolled from queasiness. Her head pounded as the sweat rolled down her brow. She wondered if she should have left the house. Maybe her decision to have a baby was too much. Could she handle the responsibility? Ashley did it. She had a baby for her. Keegan could endure the same nine months of prenatal. Andy's rambunctious personality was a handful and had her questioning the possibility of her child being the same way. Her nephew overnight stay took a toll on her. The small boy stopped talking when Keegan stood next to her sister and pointed at the island. He looked back at Keegan and let out a giggle.

"Who?" The three year old held his hands over his mouth.

"Whose car is that?" Keegan set her hands on the doorway praying the queasiness would pass. Ashley placed her hands on Andy's waist. She picked him up and set him down in his kitchen chair, next to Danny. Turning back to her sister, she gave her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

"There is someone who wanted to see you." Ash said as she blocked Keegan's line of sight. Andy tried his best to get the attention of the stranger at the counter. A frown instantly appeared on his face as he made a racket. Ash placed her hands on the shoulders of her older sister. Keegan's small pouch made contact with her sister's hip. Keegan tried to back up a step to avoid contact with her sister's body. She wiped at her forehead as the beads of sweat appeared.

"What's going on?" Keegan sounded a bit worried but tried to keep it light. Just starting her second trimester of pregnancy, her emotions and her patience were off the charts. "Dear God. Who is it? Mom?" Ashley shook her head and looked at Danny. Keegan tried to peer around her sister's taller frame. "What's going on?" Her battle with leukemia held her at death's door on more then one occasion. Her main concern was her health and the health of those close to her. Once during a chemo session, she needed a reason to go on. Uncertain if it was a dream or a way of coping with the burning sensation filling her body, she closed her eyes and prayed to God to take her away. Immediately she felt at peace. She found herself in a field with blue skies and wild flowers surrounding her. Lying on a soft yellow blanket, she felt whole. A small girl sat next to her, twirling a daisy between her hands. Blue eyes mirroring hers stared at her with a smile and touched the flower to Keegan's nose. The little girl lifted the flower towards a kite flying high in the sea of clouds. Keegan followed the string from the bright red and green kite as it filtered towards the ground. Her eyes strained as they followed the string to its owner but she was brought short by a light touch on her face. She fought through the fog to look upon the pilot of the contraption. Another touch on her cheek brought Keegan out of the trance and face to face with eyes as blue as her own. Her father stared at her as she woke up. Bill's tear filled eyes danced over her face as he lifted a finger to wipe away a tear. "Sweetie, don't leave us."

"I'm going to beat this Dad." Her voice whispered as she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep. She wanted a reason to live and her dream gave her one. A baby, she would have a child once she beat cancer. She thought of Ashley and how the birth of Andy helped her survive. How much love could a sister have than to offer a possible cure to her? When the bone marrow donors didn't match Keegan's blood type, the family was at the end of their rope. Ashley announced she was pregnant. Keegan was confused, since Ashley and Jason were separated for such a long time and the divorce finalized over six months ago. She didn't question her sister. Andy gave her a second chance at life.

"Is it Dad?" Her voice broke mid-sentence. When Ashley didn't answer quickly, Keegan roughly grabbed her arms. "Tony?" Her voice seemed to tense as Ashley refrained from answering.

"Hello Keegan." Gwen took a step closer to the sisters. Concerned with Keegan's panic filled reaction, she stepping forward. Ashley turned to look over her shoulder, then moved out of Keegan's way. For the first time in years, she saw Keegan face. "I wanted to see you." Gwen pushed out the words. Her expression changed from one of hesitation to one of amazement as her gaze traveled from Keegan's shocked expression to the swell of her belly. Biting her lower lip, she bent her head to hide her reaction. Keegan had moved on. She was with someone, in a relationship, having a child with them. Gwen knew she was too late to salvage a relationship.

Numb from her feet up, Keegan stood in the middle of her sister's kitchen gazing into the face that haunted her. The one person who she shared precious memories with, the person who broke her heart, Gwen stood in front of her. There wasn't a stadium full of people between them, nor was she on the television. This wasn't a dream. Gwen was standing in front of her. Older and a little heavier, she still was a beautiful woman. Gwen came to her. What does she think of me? Keegan thought as she unconsciously placed her hand on her stomach, suddenly feeling fat, bloated and foolish. Why on earth would the blonde be attracted to her? She was pregnant and not a man. After all Gwen was engaged to a pro hockey player. Which would mean she probably wanted to reconnect because she would be moving to the area?

"Gwen." Keegan's voice shook. Her insides trembled and her knees threatened to give out. "I…" She stammered. "I don't know what to say." Keegan wanted to cross towards her and put both hands on her face and kiss her. "Wow, I'm."

"Pregnant." Gwen smiled as she saw the swelling belly. "Congratulations." No wonder Ashley hesitated with Gwen seeing Keegan. She was trying to protect her sister from getting hurt and her questions from earlier rang clear. She looked at the women who seemed to want to disappear from the situation. Danny rubbed a comforting hand along Andy's arm.

"Thanks. I'm due in late August." Keegan grasped the back of the chair as her fingers dug into the hard wood. Her heart was beating rapidly as she took in her former lover. Up close for the first time in years, she could see the honey brown eyes taking her in. The faint scent of jasmine hung in the air. One of her favorite scents, she hadn't realized why until now. Gwen wore it often and it seemed to permeate around her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm a bit embarrassed. I didn't mean to intrude on you but I recognized Ashley last night." Gwen confessed. Her chest felt heavy like a weight pressed on her torso. The closeness of Keegan being in the same room sapped the common sense right out of her. She fought against her instinct. She wanted to cross the kitchen and enclose the smaller woman in her arms and tell her she made a mistake. Instead, she found her self moving across the floor to the table closer to Keegan. She could see the vein in Keegan's neck quicken as she approached. Her own body was on fire. The attraction she felt when she first met Keegan was still there. Her hair was longer and hung to her shoulders. The azure eyes danced over her face. She wasn't the only one having trouble dealing with this meeting. Memories came flooding back of kissing this woman in front of her, of crying on her shoulder, of the love and support they shared. Keegan hurt her and in turn she caused Keegan pain.

"Keegan," Gwen began to speak, her words catching in her throat for the second time in less than twelve hours. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"No. Oh no." Keegan answered quickly. Gwen stepped closer and Keegan could feel the blood pulse through her veins. Her body ignited by the tall blonde closeness. She cursed her body and hormones for letting Gwen have such an effect on her. "No. What are you doing here?" Keegan backed away from the kitchen chair to the other side of the room away from the blonde who was studying her every move. "Why are you here?" Her words echoed the question she had asked Gwen years ago in a hospital room. She saw the recognition of the question as the blonde's eyes turned dark for an instant. It wasn't anger. It was pain, the hurt from the memory of being questioned for caring.

"Foolish me." Gwen smirked to hide the hurt. She bit her lower lip and rubbed her face. "I just thought it would be good to see you again Keegan. I'm sorry I hurt you, but you hurt me too."

Danny began shifting uncomfortably in her seat and started to leave. "You stay right where you are at." Keegan directed her words to her sister's best friend. "I have a feeling that you may behind this." Danny began to protest and stopped and looked at her Ashley. Ashley leaned against the sliding glass door waiting for Keegan to turn d take a bite at her.

"You show up here after all this time. Why Gwen?" The one person she was afraid to hurt, but in the end hurt her. The person she wanted to share her life with when she had one to share. The person she set free and broke her heart. She looked at Gwen. For the first time in a long time, she could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the small mole on her shoulder.

"I'm in town for a couple of days." Gwen glanced at Keegan's hand for a ring and saw the matching Irish wedding band on her finger. "And I've been thinking about you and I wanted to see you. I've thought about you. We used to be really good friends at one time." Gwen was struggling. She envisioned this meeting going so much better in her head.

"Friends. Is that how you view it? We were partners….or at least I thought we were. You slept with those women? Now you're engaged to what's his name?"

"Bob Finch." Ashley supplied from the doorway. Both women turned to give her a look.

"Shut up Ash! Don't think I don't know who is behind this?" Keegan's deadly stare was aimed directly at her sister. "We'll talk about that later. Count on it!"

"Are you and your partner expecting this baby together?" Gwen asked as her hand reached out to touch the ring on Keegan's hand. Keegan looked at her sister and Danny. A light mist of sweat was visible on her forehead.

"That's none of your business." Keegan pulled her hand away and started towards the door. Gwen followed hot on her heels.

"You always were stubborn." Gwen ran her hands through her hair in frustration. Finally she raced in front of the retreating form and grabbed both of Keegan's hands. The once familiar jolt of electricity shot through their body when contact was made. Taking Keegan's hands in her, Gwen brought them to her chest.

"I made a mistake. I was young and I made some bad decisions. I want." Her words faltered. "I want to get to know you again."

"Gwen, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby. I'm not in the mood. Maybe I don't want to know you. The Gwen I knew would not be engaged to a hockey player." Keegan could feel Gwen's heart pounding underneath her hands. "Go back to California, to your life and your fiancé." Keegan could see Gwen trying to fight the threat of tears in her soft brown eyes. She flattened her hands against Gwen's chest and pushed her. "You can't come in to my life and assume I'm going to forget everything that happened. Not remember the accusations, the way you dealt with the separation."

"We were broken up!"

"Keep thinking that Ross, maybe it will make everything feel better." Keegan shot another dig her way referencing the Friends sitcom character.

"God Kee, will you give me a break for a second?"

"I'm pregnant. The only one who deserves a break is me." Keegan resumed her trek out of the house, escaping her sister's house, escaping from Gwen.

"Don't Keegan." Gwen chased after her quickly catching her before she got to the door. "Are you with someone?"

"What?" Keegan asked confused by the question.

"Are you with someone? Do you have a partner?" Gwen placed her hand on Keegan's arm to halt her progress.

"Again, none of your business, besides you're the one engaged to be married to a very handsome man. Does he know you're here?"

"He does. He even offered to drive me here. I thought it would be a little awkward." Gwen smiled just a bit as Bobby made a scene wanting to come and meet Keegan. He jumped up and down on the couch trying to get her to agree. She pacified with the promise that if all went well, she would introduce them.

"You think!" Keegan's sarcastic remark cut hard through Gwen's confidence. "You don't think putting me on the spot in a place I'm comfortable isn't awkward?" Keegan pulled her arm from Gwen's touch. "You don't even know me. You've got no clue what my life has been like or what I want or need. Go away Gwen." Keegan continued her escape. The echoing words returned.

"I know. I know. You don't want me here!" Gwen finished Keegan sentence. "I've heard this before. And I left. I left." Gwen stopped for a moment and formulated her words carefully. "I walked away from you because you didn't want me there. I left because you told me to." She lifted her hand and gently cupped Keegan's chin. Lifting it slightly she made sure blue eyes locked with brown. "That was a mistake I'm not willing to make again." The pad of her thumb traced Keegan's jaw line. "I'd like to know you again or at least try. Keegan? Tell me you are willing to try." Keegan relaxed for the first time since realizing Gwen stood inches from her. She felt her skin tingle where Gwen touched her. Looking into the soft tawny eyes that haunted her dreams she sighed. She may not have been prepared for Gwen to come back into her life. There was a hope they may be able to salvage a friendship.

"You can't hurt me anymore, Gwen." Keegan shook her head as she backed away. She needed to think clearly. Separate from Gwen so that her brain was steering the boat, not her heart. "I need to think about it. I can't do this now. If you want an answer now, it's no. One of us needs to leave, because I'm uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry to intrude on you and your family. Stay, I'll go. I'm in town 'til Thursday. I'd like to see you." Gwen said as she walked out of the house.

"I can't." Keegan shut the door behind her.

Keegan walked back in the kitchen. Danny immediately greeted her with a full on bear hug. Andy watched out of curiosity. Ashley titled his head back kissed him on the lips. She could see the anguish in her sister's body as she tried to fight off the feelings for the tall blonde. Andy placed a chubby hand on her cheek as she smiled at him and kissed his nose. So many things had gone wrong in Keegan's life. She hoped this was not a mistake. Pulling out of Danny's comforting arms, Keegan wearily sat in a kitchen chair. She held her head in her hands. There were no tears. She wasn't sure why. After a few moments, she felt a small hand touch her arm.

"No sad…" Andy stroked his small fingers across her arm. She felt drained. There was part of her that wanted to follow after the blonde. Yet her brain wasn't going to let Gwen waltz back in. A small shiver went through her body.

"I'm okay honey." Keegan flashed a quick smile her nephew's way. Her heart was pounding and her stomach upset but not from the morning sickness. She cleared her throat and raised her eyes to meet her sister matching pair. "What am I going to do?" She said aloud.

"What do you want to do?" Danny spoke quietly her fingers laced together.

She sat with her elbows resting on her knees and her overall bib plunging to reveal the white thermal top underneath. "I don't know." Keegan answered. "What the hell were you thinking telling her who you were?"

"She knew. The damn eyes, it's a give away."

"She is so right. Once you look into those baby blues you're." Danny was cut off by Keegan's groan.

"Stop it. I'm the one getting action from a syringe. She looks good." Keegan let a little smirk shine through.

"No Keegan, she looks great." Ashley smiled as she hoisted Andy to her lap.

"She's a beautiful woman. Didn't you have a massive crush on her?" Ashley teased Danny.

"Never. That was Meghan." The redness of Danny's face told the truth. Keegan stood up and began to pace. Her stomach settled a bit, but her mind was whirling with thoughts and images. "Have you talked to her since the original hospital visit?"

"No. I left her a message once. The last time we talked was in the hospital room." Keegan shook her head. She thought about all the conversations she had with the blonde in her head over the years. The Gwen she knew was one she talked to in her head. Not the woman who was just standing in her sister's house. What a strange twist life threw her way, she broke up with Gwen, she thought it would be for a few weeks. She'd let Gwen compete in the Olympics and she'd tell her the truth after. Except Gwen moved on and never looked back.

"Keegan, it's a start. At least she is trying to get in touch with you. It's obvious she wants to reconnect." Ashley said as she watched the silver SUV back out of her drive and head down the street.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/catherin ... eart1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 25 ruj 2012 23:27

terapeutkinja ...i poslovna žena

~ Laguna Nights ~
by Carole Giorgio

Samantha was right, it only took a little over two hours and she was done for the day. It was a little past 4 o'clock and she was in the middle of unpacking when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Hi, Samantha. This is Jane Attenberg."

"Oh, Hi. Did something rush come in?" Samantha asked.

"Sort of Samantha. It's not transcribing but I will pay you for your time. I have a favor to ask of you if you are not too busy this evening," her boss began.

"What kind of favor?"

"Well, one of our new clients has decided that she would like to have one of the Dictaphone machines personally delivered to her tonight."

"Uh, huh?" Sam queried.

"I was just wondering, since you don't live far from this client and since you really didn't have a lot of work today and might need the extra money . . . Well, I was just wondering if you would like to deliver the machine and perhaps help her to set it up and show her how to get started?" Jane let the ball drop into Samantha's court for the answer.

"Well, Jane. I really didn't have anything planned for this evening except for doing some unpacking which I hate to do anyway. So . . . Yeah. Sure. I'd be happy to take one of the machines over to the client. Who is she?"

"Her name is Alexis Dorian. She's refurbishing that old warehouse south of town off South Coast Hwy. It's only about 2 miles from the Red Lobster and if you go as far as The Laguna Reef Inn you've gone too far. The directions may sound a little complicated, but it's really easy to get to and impossible not to spot if you are in the right vicinity. You know where Ruby's is don't you, Samantha."

"Actually, Jane, I think I know exactly where the building is. Is it the right hand turn off Coast Hwy after Horizon View Drive?"

"Yes, Samantha, that's the road. It's still unnamed but I think she's in the process of having the street named after her new business."

"If the business is called Alternative Paradise, Jane, I know exactly where it is. I was just swimming on that beach this morning." Samantha smiled into the phone at the thought of her destination. Now I'll actually get to see the inside of the "castle" as well as the outside. She thought to herself.

"Yes, that's the place," Jane confirmed. She said she would be home anytime after 5:30 and you needn't call ahead. I don't even think she has an address yet but she lives in the building so you should have no trouble finding it. No need to dress for business, just casual will be fine. I really appreciate this Samantha and as I said earlier, I will reimburse you for your time."

"Okay, Jane, that's cool." Sam replied. "Gosh it's almost 4:30 now. Let me change at least into something I haven't been cleaning in for hours and get over to the office to pick up the machine. I should be there in about 30 minutes -- that will give me plenty of time to get there, it only takes about 10 minutes from your place. Does that sound all right with you."

"It sounds great, Samantha. Again, I really appreciate you doing this on such short notice. I think we may be a little slow the next week or so but when this clinic opens up, we should have more than enough work to keep you busy. See you in a bit." With that she hung up and Samantha went to take another quick shower and change into a decent pair of jeans and a blouse.

Carefully going through the clothes in her closet she decided on a pair of stone washed jeans, a blouse with small daisies dancing around the collar and a pair of white sandals. She considered this to be a casual summer outfit but not so casual that it couldn't pass for being business casual. Anyhow, Jane had said she didn't have to dress up and it was after hours. She'd be at Jane's in just a few minutes and then on to see the inside of the warehouse. Jane had the machine set out and ready to be picked up when Samantha arrived at the office and she had left the door unlocked.

"Hello, Jane. It's Samantha, I'm here to pick up the machine." Samantha called slightly above her normal level.

"I'm back here, Samantha. Come on in." Her boss answered. "Now, you won't have any trouble instructing her how to use this, will you Samantha?"

"No problem at all -- piece of cake. Of course it also depends on how savvy she is about doing something like this. If she's a real novice I may be there a while but if she has the brains to put together a place like the one she has, I'm sure there will be No Problem." Samantha answered with near certainty.

"Well, I had best get started -- don't want to keep the lady waiting." Sam smiled at her boss, picked up the machine and started for the door.

"Here, let me get the door for you. Thanks again, Samantha and have a nice evening. Ms. Dorian seems like a nice enough person, a little on the stringent side, very business like, but she seems nice. I'm sure you'll have no problems." Jane opened the door for Samantha to pass. "I'll talk to you in the morning to see how everything went." She closed the door and Samantha could hear the lock click behind her as she made her way to the VW.

Thank goodness I have the top down tonight, I don't think I could have opened the door with this machine in my hands. She placed the machine on the seat and went around to the driver's side. Sam really felt excited about getting to see the inside of the warehouse. She hoped it would not disappoint her - it looked so enticing with all the changes she had seen it go through. The late afternoon temperature was a comfortable 72° and the wind felt good blowing through her hair on the short trip to the Cove area. She was there in less than 10 minutes and was even a little early. Sam got out of the car and went around to get the Dictaphone and then walked up to the double doors of the warehouse. Something new had been added since this morning -- actually it Was the double doors. Wow, she though, I've never seen doors like this before. As she stood there holding the machine she studied the unusual portal before her. On each of the doors was an identical stained glass panel. In the center of each was a large emblem of a lavender and white yin-yang. Surrounding the symbol and in varying colors were other symbols, some which Samantha knew like the Pentacle, the cross and the Magen David. Others she had seen but didn't know the names of. One of the figures even looked like a female Buddha. What a wonderful design for the entrance to a place called Alternative Paradise, she thought to herself as she stood there just holding the machine and staring. She made a mental note to come back again to examine the doors more closely and to write down everything on them so she could go home and look it all up. This place was definitely beginning to live up to her imagination of what it should be.

A little to the right of the doors was a call box and Samantha leaned up against the building with the machine being balanced between the building and her body and pushed the button. A couple seconds later a rich contralto voice answer with a singular, "Yes?"

"Ms. Dorian? This is Samantha Riley. I'm an employee of Jane Attenberg's. She asked me to drop this Dictaphone machine by and perhaps show you how to use it."

"I'll be right down, Ms. Riley. Give me a minute." The unembodied voice answered. What a Voice! Samantha thought to herself. I hope I get to do whatever it is she dictates. I could listen to a voice like that forever. She heard so many unappealing voices in her work that this voice literally sent chills down her spine. If only all voices had that tone and quality. My job would be a cinch. On second thought I might spend more time trying to imagine the body beyond the voice and get absolutely Nothing done. Well, at least I won't have to wait to match this voice and body together!

Sam saw the light switch on in the hallway, illuminating even more the stained glass designs on the doors in front of her. She was so mesmerized with the beauty of the glass that she missed seeing the figure arrive at the doors until they were opened and the woman was standing before her. It's Her, Samantha shouted in her mind. It's the woman on the beach. It's the woman in the water. By the Gods this must be fate. I actually get to meet this stranger face-to-face and she has a voice to match the body and eyes I could get lost in. Her hair, though --- what did she do to her hair --- I distinctly remember it being really LONG. Who cares, silly, whatever she did she's still the most attractive woman you've ever laid eyes on. She was staring again and her mouth must have been hanging wide open.

The woman had opened the doors and was just standing there, towering over Samantha, with a slightly crooked smile on her face. She lifted her left eyebrow slightly and addressed Sam with "Would you like to come in and show me how to set the machine up? Or would you rather just like to stand there a little longer?" She smiled a little broader and continued, "Only kidding, but you do look like you've just seen a ghost."

Actually, Alex was as dumbfounded as Samantha but refused to let the emotion show on her face or in her demeanor. In fact she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to handle this. Should she let the small woman know that she had seen her on those two occasions or should she just let it go? Obviously, the petite woman standing in front of her realized that Alex was the person she had seen on the beach last night and again this morning in the water. That was the most obvious reasoning to atone for the look of astonishment on the young woman's face.

Samantha shook her head slightly and gave the taller woman a shy upward glance without really lifting her head to face her. Well, you had hoped you would get the opportunity to meet her. Be careful what you wish for Samantha . . . She cleared her throat and in a very dry voice said, "Uh, huh. I would be glad to set up the machine . . . lead the way."

"Why don't you let me carry that machine," Alex said as she began to take the piece of equipment out of the smaller woman's hands, "it looks rather heavy and you've been standing there with it for some time now."

"Well, thank you Ms. Dorian . . . but . . ."

"No buts, let me have it -- and it's Alex -- just call me Alex, my Mom's Ms. Dorian."

"Okay, Alex but only if you'll call me Samantha." Sam looked up into those deep blue eyes and felt like melting.

At the exact same moment Alex looked down at Samantha and saw two emerald discs looking back at her. Samantha -- Alex rolled the name over in her mind -- That is certainly a beautiful name and it seems to fit her. I didn't think I'd get the chance to meet her in person this soon. I know Laguna's small but this is marvelous. ------ Watch your step Alex, don't get foolish.

"All right, Samantha, why don't you just follow me and we'll get this little beauty connected."

Alex turned and walked back down the hallway with Samantha close behind. The taller woman hadn't realized that it took two of the other woman's steps to match every one of hers. Eventually Samantha was almost running just to stay even with Alex and she wasn't doing a very good job at that. They reached the elevator with Sam a good three or four steps behind even with trying to keep up.

"I'm sorry," Alex apologized, as she turned around and could see that she had left Samantha in her shadow. "I tend to forget that everyone doesn't walk as fast as I do and that's just plain rude."

"No, no problem," Samantha puffed slightly out of breath but more from anxiousness than exertion. At least she had an excuse to be breathing so deeply. "Actually, I don't think it's your speed, I think it's your stride. You have a few inches on me," Samantha said with a slight smile up to Alex.

"Yes, I guess I do at that now don't I?" Alex smiled back.

Alex pushed the button and the door immediately opened, she stepped inside, placed the machine on the floor and waited for Samantha to enter. Since Sam was the last one in, she was standing closest to the panel where the key had to be placed to allow them access to the third floor. Alex stepped directly behind Samantha and reached over her shoulder to put the key in. Samantha, suddenly realized she was standing in the way and awkwardly tried to move . . .

"No, no. Stay where you are. Your okay," Alex told her. "I just need to reach over and put this key in so we can get all the way up to the third floor. The other side of the panel will only allow us to get to the second floor." She gave Samantha a quick smile.

Damn, Samantha thought to herself as her heart started pounding, I don't believe the feelings I'm having. She's barely touching my back and I feel like it's on fire. I've Never had this kind of reaction to Anyone before - especially to a woman! Samantha could feel the blood rising from her neck to her face and kept herself face forward for fear of Alex seeing her blush.

Alex was having a similar reaction to reaching over the smaller woman's shoulder. Her breasts gently brushed Samantha's back and she could feel the nipples underneath the tank top immediately begin to harden. Oh, Shit, this is Just what I need. 'Pervert makes pass at young professional woman in private elevator in Laguna.' She could see the headlines. Make it quick, Alex, before she thinks you Are making a pass at her. What a lovely way to start a business relationship. You should have let her move -- FOOL.

The lift finished its short trip to final destination. "Okay, here we are," Alex picked up the machine and stepped out of the elevator. "Follow me," Alex instructed as they entered the penthouse level of the warehouse. She proceeded to open a door that was slightly on an angle and to the left of the elevator doors. The first thing Samantha noticed was the expanse of light in the large room. To the right as they walked in was a kitchen done all in what looked to be a white mahogany with the cabinets on the north wall, an island in the middle for food preparation and a breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living area. To the west of the kitchen was a glass topped dining table with a breathtaking view of the Pacific. The floor plan was almost totally open with only the bar separating the kitchen and living room. The living room was sparsely furnished but did have a stone fireplace on the east wall. Samantha could see into the next area, also because all that was separating it from the living room was what looked to be a full size bar.

"I don't have all my furniture yet," Alex apologized, "So the place looks a little empty. I haven't really finished planning out exactly the look I want to end up with."

"I think what you have so far is just marvelous," Samantha commented. "There's so much open space and so much light. It's absolutely the most beautiful view I've ever seen from someone's living room."

Samantha walked closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out to the ocean as the sun was about an hour or so away from the evening descent. "Breath taking, I think I would definitely call this breath taking."

"Well, I'm glad there is someone else who gets the same feelings I do when I look out over this view. Actually, you're the first person I've had up here besides construction workers, installation and delivery people." She motioned to Sam toward the open door to the south of the living area. "I've kind of set up a temporary office in the bedroom. I have my computer, fax and a couple phone lines in there. It probably won't stay there but it will do for now." Alex led the way into the large master suite and Samantha followed.

"Please excuse the mess in here, I have lots of things to unpack." Alex apologized again, pulling clothes off the king size waterbed and tossing them into the laundry shoot on the other side of the room. She pointed in the direction of the wrap around desk which held a computer, a fax, a phone and a printer.

"Okay." Said Samantha -- "Let's get you hooked up and then I'll give you a quick lesson on how to operate this little beauty." She smiled in Alex's direction. The set up was a snap and they had everything connected in a matter of 10 or 15 minutes.

"Now, comes the fun part, Dictaphone 101. Are you ready?" Samantha asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," was her reply.

"Well, why don't you sit down here like you're going to dictate and I'll go over the procedure with you. If you run into any problems everything is spelled out fairly clearly here in the manual." Samantha waited for Alex to come and sit down at the desk and then she handed her the microphone. "Now you can use this, the telephone receiver or you can use the automatic mic that's attached to the machine. Probably the easiest to use would be the automatic mic. Any of them will work but remember when the machine is on all the background noise will also get recorded, so the room needs to be fairly quiet -- for the sake of the transcriptionist," she added with a large grin. "The power switch is here . . ." As Samantha proceeded to push the switch into the "on" position, Alex's hand reached over covering the smaller hand just as it made contact with the machine. Alex had thought that Samantha wanted her to turn the machine on and her movement was almost synchronized with Samantha's -- obviously it was a wrong decision. The touch was quick and just as quickly removed, but there was an intensity in the moment that made the touch feel more like a caress.

Alex swallowed harder than she had anticipated and could have sworn that Samantha must have heard her, "Gosh, I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to turn it on."

"That's . . . okay," Samantha said knowing that the gentle touch had just sent a tingling sensation up her entire arm and now she was feeling tongue-tied. "Let me just . . . quickly go over . . . all the buttons and knobs and explain everything I think you might need to know." When she was finished with everything she could possibly think of, she let out a slight sigh.

"That about does it. Do you have any other questions?"

"No, I don't think I'll have any trouble at all." Alex answered, "But, if I do, I'll just ask Jane to have you come back over and re-instruct me, how does that sound? What a stupid thing to say she reprimanded herself and quickly added, "I'm just kidding, Samantha, I think I will be just fine."

She got up from the desk and stood in front of the smaller woman. They had taken quite a bit of time going over all the nuances of the machine and how to dictate. As she looked out at the ocean she could see that the sunset was almost in progress.

They walked back into the living room and Alex decided to be bold and make a suggestion. "Could I offer you a glass of wine or water or something? Would you like to watch the sunset? It really is beautiful from here." Alex said hoping that Samantha would say yes to both questions. She didn't want this person standing in her bedroom to remain a stranger and felt that in just the short amount of time they had already spent together that that expectation was not too far fetched.

"A glass of wine would be really nice and I would love to watch the sunset from here! I do believe this is the best seat on the beach." Samantha smiled at Alex.

"Red or White?"

"Huh?"

"Wine." Alex grinned. "Red or white wine?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Whichever, ah, what do you suggest?"

"Well," Alex pondered for effect, "I think White Zinfandel is definitely a good choice to go with sunsets."

"Sounds like a winner to me," Samantha agreed.

"So, pull up a couple pillows and grab a piece of the floor -- I haven't picked out a couch yet." Alex said as she walked over to the bar.

Samantha took two of the large pillows from beside the fireplace and placed them closer to the window facing out towards the ocean. She took one for herself and propped it under her chest as she relaxed on the floor and took in the awesome view. "This really is Paradise, isn't it?" She said more to herself. She was looking outward and didn't notice the affectionate smile Alex gave as a response.

"Well, here's to the beginning of a long working friendship - if I'm not being too presumptuous." Alex said as she walked over to Samantha and handed her a glass.

"To friendship -- that's a perfect toast," added Samantha.

The two toasted each other shyly looking into each other's face and trying desperately not to show what was actually going on in their minds. Alex broke the silence after the toast with a confession.

"You know, Samantha, I'm pretty sure I've seen you twice in the last two days, down here on the beach. Am I mistaken or was it you?"

"Yeah, it was me. The first night I was with my friend Suzanne and we were digging clams. I haven't lived here very long and kind of decided that this was going to be my comfort place, this beach of yours. So, you'll probably be seeing a lot of me. I was here this morning, too. And I have a confession -- I saw you both times I was here but was afraid to say hi. You never can tell about people these days, even saying "hi" can get all kinds of unusual responses. I was really surprised, though, when you opened the door tonight and your hair was short. It looks good on you. I think I like it better the way you have it now and I'm sure it's easier to take care of. I know I prefer mine short especially if I'm going to be doing a lot of swimming." She glanced over at Alex who was just sitting on the floor watching the sunset and listening to her talk.

"You know Samantha, it feels really nice having someone here to share the sunset with. I think they should be shared, don't you." She turned and looked at the green-eyed cutie who was now sitting cross-legged on her living room floor.

"Yes, I think the Gods . . . I bet I sound crazy, don't I? But you see -- I really like mythology and sometimes get carried away with. . ."

"No, no -- go on," Alex encouraged her.

"Well, I think the Gods had a little soft place in their hearts for us at one time. After watching us run around all day long, working so hard from the time we got up until the time we went to bed, I think they felt a little sorry for us. So, they decided to give us a reward at the end of each day. Something that would make us slow down for a little while, sit still and just be quiet and watch. They made it soooo beautiful that we decided it needed to be shared and romanticized it. That's why we all get this really warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside every time we see a beautiful sunset reflecting all the colors of passion from the cool subtle blues and lavenders to the hot oranges and pinks. It stirs something deep within us from the depths of time and brings a fitting end to the day."

She looked over at Alex and thought she saw a tear beginning to trickle down the dark haired woman's face. Samantha didn't know why but she had the strongest desire to lean over and brush the tear away. Before she could think about it, she was actually doing it. Alex gently took her hand as the tear was wiped and simply smiled -- into the face of an angel.

"Thank you, Samantha, that was a beautiful thought. I don't think I've ever heard anyone describe the origin of a sunset any better." She smiled again and then realized that she was still holding onto the other woman's hand -- she let go -- slightly embarrassed.

"You're welcome, Alex. It's just that I have this vivid imagination and . . . well . . . thank you," She said slightly embarrassed as well. "I think maybe I'd better get going, I don't want to overstay my welcome the very first time I'm here." She smiled again and rose to leave.

"Okay, leave if you must, but there's no way you can overstay your welcome here, my friend. You are very welcomed to come back anytime, in fact why don't I give you a call tomorrow? Since you've only been in Laguna for a short period of time and I have been around forever, there are a lot of things I could show you if you'd like."

"That would be great," Samantha beamed back at her.

"It's a deal then. Come on let me take you down to your car."

The two newly acquainted friends slowly walked to the elevator and rode the short distance down to the first floor in silence each lost in her own private thoughts.

"So, Alex, it was really good to meet you and I will be looking forward to hearing from you tomorrow. I know you won't have any trouble with the Dictaphone and I'm really glad Jane asked me to bring it over. Thanks again for the wine and the sunset." She looked up into the taller woman's face and didn't know whether to offer her hand. She decided against it and simply said, "Good night, Alex." With that Samantha walked over to her car, got in and started it up. She waved at Alex as she started off down the street.

Alex said Good night and watched as Samantha crossed the street and got into her car. She made sure the car started and then waved back as Samantha pulled away. "Okay, Samantha -- til tomorrow," Alex said to the wind as she walked back inside, closed the stained glass doors and walked back into the all too quiet warehouse.

http://www.xenafiction.net/scrolls/caro ... o_ln1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 26 ruj 2012 20:21

rodeo...suvremene kaubojke

Diving Into the Turn
By Carrie Carr

THE SUCCESSFUL RIDE hadn't changed Shelby's mood much. She tried to tell herself to get over it, but knowing that Rebecca would be leaving in the next day or so depressed her more than she cared to admit. She thought about going to Patches stall and waiting for Rebecca, but decided to quit seeing the other woman. It would only hurt more when she moved on if she kept torturing herself. Shelby went outside to have a cigarette instead, not knowing that's where Rebecca would be waiting.

“There you are! I was hoping you'd come out to your old haunt,” Rebecca teased. She stepped forward into the light so that Shelby could see her.

“Here I am.” Shelby lit her cigarette and watched Rebecca closely. What does she want from me? She's had to have heard all the rumors about me by now. Plus some I don't even know.

Rebecca stepped closer and touched Shelby's right arm. “That was an incredible ride. You didn't hurt yourself, did you?”

Shelby shrugged the attention away. “I'm fine. It happens a lot in my line of business.”

Knowing a rebuff when she heard one, Rebecca tried for a safer subject. “What would you do if you weren't doing this? I mean, I know you can't ride bulls forever.”

“I guess I'd hire on as a wrangler, or something. Rodeoing is in my blood, and it's all that I know.”

“That's not true. You're good at a lot of things. Look at everything you do around here.” Rebecca offered. She shivered slightly. A weather front earlier in the day had brought nicer days, but much cooler nights. “I'm sure you could do whatever you set your mind to do.”

“Then you just don't know me that well.” Shelby started to walk away, but was stopped by a hand on her forearm. “What?”

Rebecca was confused. “I thought we were becoming friends. What's happened to you?”

“Give me a break. I've seen a hundred of you on the circuit, and the story never changes.” Shelby decided it was time for a little tough love, for both their sakes. It was already too late to keep her heart from being broken, and they were just now becoming friends. Maybe she could protect Rebecca from her own fate.

Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by the stormy dark eyes inches away.

“You're just a kid, probably still in your teens.” Shelby leaned in even closer, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. “You drive a small, safe sedan, probably still live at home, and had to borrow either your daddy's rig, or someone brought you in order for you to compete.”

Shelby ran a finger down the side of Rebecca's face, so tempted to give in to the desire that fueled her anger. “Kids like you are a dime a dozen on the circuit, Rebecca. They play cowboy, or cowgirl, then when the rodeo leaves their town, they go back to their safe little lives. Most of us follow the circuit, trying to make a living. We eat fast food when we can afford it and sleep in the cab of our trucks, or the bottom of someone's trailer when we're broke.” She leaned in and brutally covered Rebecca's mouth with her own, not surprised when her kiss was returned almost as rough. Hearing a noise somewhere close, she jerked back. “Go home kid, and stay the hell away from bastards like me.”

Touching her bruised lips with one hand, Rebecca watched Shelby storm off into the night.

SHELBY WENT INTO her trailer and locked the door behind her. She reached into the tiny refrigerator for a beer, opened it, and swallowed half of it before stopping to take a breath. Tossing her hat on the bed, Shelby followed it and laid back, the half empty bottle on her stomach. She felt tears burn her eyes, and for the first time since she was twelve, Shelby Fisher cried. She remembered back to that horrible day, when she stood in her customary place to watch her father ride, with a friend of his. She also remembered the talk of the other participants, who murmured amongst themselves that Ted Fisher's drinking would kill him one day. Most of them just didn't think it would be because he was stupid enough to get on a bull while drunk. The bull came out, much like hers did tonight, and went into a spin. Ted was too uncoordinated to handle what was happening. His hand slipped just loose enough for him to be tossed forward and onto the sharp horns. Before they could get to him, the bull tried to toss him up in the air, which gutted him more. It wasn't an easy sight for anyone, especially his daughter. Before Shelby knew it, she was whisked off to live with her maiden aunt. The woman was kind, but she had no idea how to raise a child. Especially one as wild and unruly as Shelby. The young girl had constantly been sent home from school for fighting, and had been suspended more than once. Shelby was always respectful to her aunt and other adults, but she never could handle being around other children her age. Their tauntings about her clothes and the way she talked was always a source of great embarrassment to her. When Shelby turned sixteen and decided to run off to re-join the rodeo, Nadeen gave her blessing, and didn't bother to fight her. She loved Shelby enough to let her go, and just hoped that the life she craved would be what she needed to make her feel whole again. The thought of her aunt made Shelby realize she hadn't contacted the woman in over a year. She wondered what Nadeen was doing now, and if she even missed her.

FROM THE BARN, Therese had seen the entire scene. When Rebecca rushed by her, she followed, then sat on the bale of hay that was outside Patches stall. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Rebecca sniffled, more angry with herself than anything else. “Is there something that you need?”

Therese tried to handle things another way. “I worry about you, Rebecca. You haven't been here very long, and you don't know what that woman is capable of.”

Remembering the kiss, Rebecca drew a shaky breath. I think I have a pretty good idea. Damn, but she can kiss! “Thank you, Therese, but I'm old enough to handle myself.”

“It's just that they haven't caught whoever is behind all the accidents around here.”

“Are you suggesting that Shelby is to blame?” Rebecca asked.

“Think about it.” Therese came into the stall so they wouldn't be overheard. “She argued with Natalie, and you remember what happened. The light back in the pens fell and almost hit Rob – and we both know how well they get along.” She picked up an extra brush and got on the other side of Patches, gently brushing the brown and white coat. “And don't forget about Andrea. She never gets hung up, but Shelby was assisting in the chute.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I don't believe it. Shelby is a gentle person. She'd never purposely do any of those things.”

Therese put the brush down. “Just think about it, and watch your back. You could be next.” She left as quickly as she came.

MEN'S BRONC RIDING was the final event, and several of the men were milling around waiting for it to begin. Shelby came in to join them, and to observe. She had drunk three beers, and was more than a little relaxed. She stumbled, which caused several of them to laugh.

“Hey there, Fisher. You taking up where your old man left off?” Rob yelled, from his perch. He could see Shelby's unsteady walk, and couldn't resist the chance to get in a dig at her expense.

“Actually, I came by after my second place ride to watch you fall on your arrogant face.” Shelby joined several other riders on another piece of the pipe fencing.

Rob wasn't deterred. “They only gave you second place because they felt sorry for your pitiful ass.” He saw several women walk in from the barns. “Hey, isn't that your latest ‘distraction'?”

Shelby ignored him, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that Rebecca had heard him, also. “Shut up, Rob.”

“You must really be bored, because she's not your usual type. But, then again, the pickings have been small this year.” Rob was really proud of how angry he was making Shelby.

“You'd know all about ‘small things,' wouldn't you?” Shelby asked, and several of the men around them laughed.

“Fuck off, Fisher.” Rob gathered his gear and readied for his ride.

From where she and Paula were, Rebecca heard the entire conversation. She was still upset about the kiss, and the fact that Shelby seemed to have written off what she hoped was a budding friendship. Once they were back in the barns, she stopped Paula. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. What's up?”

“I've heard some nasty rumors about Shelby.”

Paula was wondering when Rebecca would ask these questions of her. “What kind of rumors?”

“Someone seems to think that she could be behind all the accidents around here. Do you think so?” Rebecca didn't know why she was so insistent on knowing, but something told her she had to find out the truth.

“Shelby?” Paula thought about the question for several minutes while they walked back to where their horses were. “I don't think so, but then again, I only see her a few times a year. For all I know, she could be off killing kittens the rest of the time.”

Rebecca couldn't help but laugh. “That's a bit harsh, isn't it?”

“It got you to quit being so blasted serious.” Paula took Rebecca by the arm and led her to the women's restroom. “What's brought on this kind of talk?”

“I just wanted to know, that's all.”

“Bull. There's more to it than that. Spill it.” Paula leaned up against the closed bathroom door to keep the room to themselves. When Rebecca turned away from her and started checking herself in the bathroom mirror, Paula's eyes widened. “You haven't.”

Rebecca continued to fluff at her hair, pulling it from its ponytail and then tying it back up. “What?”

“Don't tell me you've gone and fallen for her. Oh honey, no.”

“No, of course not. I was just curious.”

Paula walked over to the mirrors and stood in front of Rebecca. “She's not a bad person, but you're just looking at getting hurt.”

The door opened, and Debbie and another woman walked in. “Hey girls. Imagine meeting you here,” Debbie voiced. She looked at Rebecca. “Are you okay? You look a bit out of it.”

“I'm fine, thank you.” Rebecca stepped away from the sink area and moved past Debbie. “Good luck on your next ride.”

“You, too.” Debbie's eyes followed Rebecca and Paula, and a thoughtful look crossed her face.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=655 ... ving1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 27 ruj 2012 21:55

odmaralište u Wisconsinu u kojem su se susretale kao djeca...ponovni susret nakon burnih adolescentnih godina u kojima su bile odvojene

~ Tomahawk'd ~
by DS Bauden

Erin realized that she still hadn't put her shirt back on due the tenderness of her skin, so she asked, "Jack, do you mind if I keep my shirt off? It's still really sore." "Sure, it's already out there and all." She winked at Erin, referring to her bare breast. Her easy answer put her at ease.

After a few moments, she looked at Erin with hooded eyelids and a goofy smile. "I'm feeling no pain. Let's do this."

Erin smiled at her willing participant. "One thing left." Jackson looked confused. "What?"

"You gotta take your shirt off, so I can work on your skin."

"Oh." Jackson blushed a little then lifted her shirt off. Her bra still covered the skin Erin needed to work on. Screw it. She unlatched her bra, letting fall into her lap, baring her breasts to Erin for the first time.

A small burn started in Erin's groin. She was familiar with these feelings, the ones regarding Jackson were fairly new this summer, but not unwelcome.

Erin looked Jackson in the eye. "Are you ok? You sure you want to do this? Once it's on it's on."

Jackson bounced her head in the affirmative. "Yeah, let's do it."

Erin smiled at how many ways she could play on those words, but decided in Jackson's condition she probably shouldn't. She inched closer to Jackson, but couldn't get a comfortable spot with their knees in the way.

"Jack, I can't get a good position. Um… do you think I could bring my legs over yours if you stretched them out?" she asked warily, not wanting to breach any barriers.

"You mean like, straddle my legs?" Jackson asked looked down at her legs.

You're so pliable in this state, aren't you? "Yeah, that way I can get a better angle and I won't stab you worse than I have to." "Sure, climb aboard."

Erin scooted back and let Jackson extend her legs and opened them somewhat, forming a V. Erin moved closer to Jackson's body and brought her legs over Jackson's. Both women realized what an intimate position they were in, but knew it was the best to carry out their plan. Jackson could feel Erin's breath on her exposed skin and couldn't help the goosebumps that started. Erin noticed right away as Jackson's nipples hardened.

"If you want to wrap your shirt around you, that's fine." "No, I'm good, let's do this before I lose my nerve." The effects of the marijuana were helping that nerve along well. Erin wiped some rubbing alcohol on Jackson's chest, then picked up the needle and dipped it in ink.

"Alright, now try not to move too much, ok?" "K." Jackson bit her lip and tensed up.

"Jack, I haven't even touched you yet. Relax, okay? Once your endorphins kick in, you'll feel a rush like you won't believe."

"Ok, on three. One… two… OW!" Jackson winced at the first pricking of the needle to her skin, but didn't move. Erin's warm hands on her chest were almost worse for her than the needle that was moving impossibly faster into her flesh.

"You're doing great, Jack. Just breathe and relax."

Jackson did as she was told and just kept her eyes locked on Erin's, which were in deep concentration. She noticed the dark outline of blue around the lighter shade coloring her eyes. She fought the temptation of brushing her knuckles down Erin's cheek. She did, however, sweep some hair out of her eyes, that had, coincidentally, fallen as she was watching her. She reached up and lightly tucked the strands behind her ear.

"Thanks," Erin said without looking up from her canvas. When she did look up, she did a double take when she saw the love coming from Jackson's eyes. Love that went beyond a simple friendship. Something was being said with that one glance. Her heart instantly sped up and she had to try to calm her now shaking hands. OK, that was intense. What's going on with me?

"You're welcome," Jackson's voice fell to a whisper.

Erin continued to pierce Jackson's skin and wiped away any excess blood that dripped down. Pressing against Jackson's chest, she could feel her heart beating quickly. She cast another glance into those mesmerizing eyes, which were boring into her own. She swallowed nervously, not believing the tide swirling in her belly.

Trying to break the tension she said, "Stop looking at me like that, you're making me nervous." She chuckled trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

Jackson replied, "Sorry. I think those endorphins kicked in and I'm feeling really good right now. I mean, really good."

"Just keep still, I'm just about finished." Erin continued her work for a while until, with one final swipe of the cloth, her masterpiece was finished. She put down the needle and dabbed some alcohol on the cloth to wipe on Jackson's chest.

"Now, this is going to sting, so hold onto something."

When Erin placed the alcohol soaked cloth on Jackson's skin, Jackson reached up and grasped Erin's face in her hands, lowered her head and kissed her. The kiss left Erin initially feeling shocked, but soon found herself lost in the sensations of Jackson's lips against her own. When she responded to the kiss, Jackson let out a whimper that traveled down Erin's stomach into her groin. She reached up and put her arms around Jackson, pulling their naked torsos together. They both moaned at the contact, which intensified their kiss. Erin wrapped her legs around Jackson tightly, until her core met Jackson's solid stomach. Jackson gently probed her mouth with her tongue and felt her eyes roll into her head when Erin's met it with just as much eagerness. Erin's hands were wrapped in Jackson's hair, gently massaging her already invigorated scalp. With another squeezing of their bodies, Erin grimaced at the tenderness of her newly punctured skin. Slowly the bodies pulled apart, lips slowly separated. She noticed a little blood on both of their bodies and wiped it with the cloth. After a few heartbeats, Erin looked up into hungry eyes and felt Jackson's stare down to her toes. She had to look away.

She took a breath. "Why did you do that?"

"You said to hold onto something. Your face was the nearest thing I could grasp."

"I'm serious, Jack." Erin's voice brought a solemn look to Jackson's face.

"Because I've been wanting to do that for a long time and I just couldn't stop myself, anymore." "How long?" Erin was confused.

"My whole life." Jackson's smile was warm and genuine.

"Wow… well it definitely felt like that." Erin still hadn't looked back at Jackson.

Jackson gently reached under Erin's chin and moved it up so she could look her in the eye. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that was some good weed!" she laughed, trying to break the intensity in the room. She didn't know what to do with all the emotions running amok inside of her.

"Hawk, come on. Talk to me. If I just damaged something between us, I need to know, but I felt something shift between us over the last few weeks, especially tonight, and I don't think I'm wrong."

Erin tried to look away, but Jackson wouldn't let her. "You're not." She swallowed. "I just don't know what to do about it. You've had much longer to handle being attracted to girls. I didn't know I was until I saw you 18 days ago," she said in a whisper. "I'm really confused."

Jackson caressed her face with the back of her knuckles. "It's ok, we can go at your pace. Fast, slow, it doesn't matter to me. I don't want you doing something you don't want to do."

"Thank you, Jack. I mean that." She tentatively reached up and stopped. "Can I hug…?"
"Come here." Erin reached up and held Jackson tightly, feeling more connected to her than she'd felt with anyone in her life before. They stayed that way for a long time, just relishing in their closeness. Their breathing slowed and the intense grasp they held on each other changed into the gentle warm embrace they both were very familiar with.

They pulled out of their hug and realized that they were still naked from the waist up. Erin's blush was matched by Jackson's and soon they were covering up their chests as much as they could without it being painful.

"I'll take a hit off that now, if you don't mind." Erin pointed to the stubbed out joint on the box.

"Sure, I may help you with that." They both finished the joint off together and soon were giggling at each other. Erin put her supplies away and Jackson put her stash away. They sat down with their backs against the wall, underneath the window. They leaned lightly against each other, trying to piece together in their addled minds what had happened tonight. They'd each look down every now and again at their new tattoos and smile at its meaning. They would have that forever, just like they'd always have each other.

After a time of soft words and gentle touches, the girls realized they'd better head back down. They carefully dressed, blew out the candles and went down to the ground floor of the boathouse. They made their way through docked areas and out onto the grounds. As they walked over to the pier, the moon glistened brightly over the water, catching their attention. They sat in the chairs on the dock and silently watched the water ripple from tiny waves coming into shore. The night was as peaceful as either of them had ever known. When Erin looked at her watch, she noticed it was approaching midnight and knew if she didn't get home before then her mother would come out looking for her.

"Jack, I gotta get going. It's getting late and I really don't want my mom coming out here." Jackson agreed.

"You're right. Well, we still have a couple days together before you go, so let's do something just for us tomorrow, ok?"

"I have no idea what that could be, but yes, let's do that."

They got up and walked hand in hand down the pier. Jackson walked Erin to her cabin to bid her goodnight. "Sleep well, Hawk. And thank you for my new tomahawk. I absolutely love it. Every time I touch it or look at it, I'll always think of you."

Erin looked at Jackson in such a different light after their kiss. The attraction she was feeling was growing with each minute they were together. As much as she didn't want their evening to end, she knew it must. She turned to walk up the steps to the cottage then stopped. She turned, walked back to Jackson, pulled her around the corner out of sight of the door. She reached up and slowly pulled the dark head down so their lips could meet one more time. The kiss was very passionate and filled with so much love, Erin was loath to break the contact. She pulled away softly, adding several kisses, each more chaste than the last until they parted. Jackson heavily leaned her forehead against Erin's.
"Wow," Jackson breathed.

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. "Goodnight, Jack." Erin backed up not sure if her legs would work. With a final touch to Jackson's hand, Erin rounded the corner and went up the stairs of the cottage.

"Goodnight, Hawk," Jackson said into the air and on shaky legs, made them work to take her home.

Once inside the cabin, Erin's mother was waiting on the couch for her. "Where in God's name were you? It's almost midnight, Erin!" she nearly screamed.

"Mother, calm down, I was just in the boathouse with Jack." "Of course you were. I should've figured you'd be with…" She stopped noticing a spot of blood on Erin's blouse. "What the hell happened?" She pointed to her chest.

"Oh, that, it's nothing." "The hell it isn't. Pull your shirt up, now."

"Mother…" she argued futilely.

"Now!"

When Erin pulled up her shirt, her mother saw the tattoo above her bikini top and began to yell. "That had better not be what I think it is. Now you're desecrating your body? What the hell is wrong with you, Erin? Did she make you do this? Was this her idea?" she nearly spat her words at Erin making her cringe and blink wildly.

"No, Mother, I did this myself." "Why would you do something like this to your body? You can't get those things off," Katie explained uselessly. "I don't want it off, mother. I put it there, because I wanted it there."

"Erin, why must you continually and intentionally do things that make me uncomfortable! I am so sick of your attitude, young lady. You are just doing this to make me angry and upset, but you know what, it's working!"

Joe walked into the family room, being awakened by the shouting. "What is going on out here? I don't think they heard us in Chicago, yet, but let's keep trying!" he yelled at Katie. "What could she have possibly done to warrant this, Katie?"

"Show him." She pointed at Erin's breast. "She's branded herself with a… tomahawk!"

"You're about to bust a blood vessel because she got a tattoo?"

Shaking her head wildly. "No, Joe, she did this herself!"

Joe looked at Erin and shook his head like Why do you do this to yourself, you know she's going to yell at you. "Peanut, why did you give yourself a tattoo?" Erin was letting her tears come now. "I did it so I could remember all of my childhood up here. You both know how special this place is to me. It always will be. So when I thought about it, it seemed perfect, and then Jack saw it and wanted one too." "Jackson saw your naked breast? What else aren't you telling me?" she snarled.

"Nothing, mother," she lied. "We just wanted to commemorate our time on Lake Tomahawk. It's not a damn crime!" she shouted, very upset at the way this night had shifted.

"I don't believe you!" she yelled.

"Katie! That is enough!" Joe shouted. He lowered his voice. "This conversation is over. There is nothing that can be done about it now. It's midnight and I don't want to spend the rest of this night screaming at you." He turned to Erin. "Peanut, I know you wanted to do something for you guys, but it might have been a little excessive. Perhaps if you'd asked, it would've been less of a shock to your mother and I." Erin's tears fell harder, knowing she'd disappointed her father. "Now, I want you to go to bed and Katie, I want you to as well. I'm going to sleep on the couch because I am far too angry to share such a close proximity with you right now."

Erin ran into her bedroom and closed the door. Katie stormed off and slammed the door to her room. Joe sat heavily down on the couch, head in his hands and sighed. "Something's gotta give here." He laid down and pulled the afghan from the top of the couch down across his body. With a final sigh, he closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/ds_bauden_tomahawkd.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 28 ruj 2012 21:13

eto opet malo erotike ... u 3 nastavka...dvije prijateljice iz djetinjstva

~ Unlimited Sexual Favors ~
by Cephalgia and MJ

The high-pitched siren of a fully functional smoke alarm chimed throughout the large apartment. As the scent of charred lasagna filled the kitchen, Wilder McNeil sprinted through the room, switching off the oven and opening both windows. Smoking cheese clouded her vision and forced a congested cough past her lips. Frantically, Wilder flapped her hands around her and looked down at the blackened remains of her supper. She grimaced and sighed deeply, running a hand through her shoulder length blonde hair.

"Just great! A night rushed off my feet and then I kill my dinner. That really is the frosting on the cake." Readjusting her short black skirt the barmaid delivered the smoldering remains one last glare of disgust before walking back into the main room of her apartment.

Rubbing eyes tired from a long shift at the bar, Wilder flopped down onto her single seated couch. The overstuffed, smooth fabric felt cool against the back of her bare legs. The blonde hated wearing short skirts and skimpy white tops but it was mandatory for all the girls who worked at 'Leather and Chains'. It was a traditionally butch club but the owner liked all her girls to look feminine and 'appear' available. Wilder really didn't mind being token 'eye candy', especially with the tips that came her way every night. The amount of dollars slipped into the waistband of her skirt alone covered the monthly rent on her apartment. Wiggling grateful toes glad to be out of restricting heels, Wilder looked across the room to her overflowing bookcase. She considered reading until she fell asleep but decided instead upon the television. Wilder picked up the remote control from the side Quaker style coffee table and switched on the set. With little enthusiasm she commenced a lazy flick through the offerings but at three o'clock in the morning there really wasn't that much available. Closing her eyes, Wilder's head fell back against her cream colored couch. The room's muted colors of pale cream and terracotta never failed to soothe her mind. After a night constantly serving drinks and politely turning down offers for 'company home' Wilder was more than relieved to retreat to the tranquility of her apartment. The unexpected sound of the telephone ringing suddenly startled the barmaid. Frowning as she wondered who would be calling her at such an hour, she answered the phone…

"Hello?"

"You're the only person I know who would be up at this time of the night… or morning!"

"Hi, Darcy. So does this mean you just returned from your trip?" Wilder closed her eyes as she spoke with her friend.

"'Just' being the operative word!"

Three miles away in a plush San Francisco loft apartment Darcy Gardener shook off her black three-piece suit jacket and sat down on her luxurious black leather sofa. Ignoring the two small navy suitcases she had literally dropped upon entering her apartment the brunette kicked off her Prada pumps and swung her legs up along the sofa. Brown eyes regarded the ceiling as Darcy spoke with her friend.

"I don't know why they wanted me to go to that thing anyway. 'Innovative Techniques for the Corporate Manager'. It's not like I haven't already been running the entire West Coast Division for almost a year. It was a complete waste of my time. Three days in San Diego and what do I have to show for it? A fog delayed plane, a tension headache and probably a huge pile of work stacked up on my desk when I get back to the office on Monday."

"Oh you poor baby," sympathized Wilder. "I know just what you're going through. The owner of Leather and Chains wants to send me to one of those courses to build my skills too. I can't decide which one to go to though. Do you think I should attend 'The Cocktail Onion for Fun and Profit' or 'A Symposium on the Pros and Cons of Female Bar Patrons Grabbing your Ass'?"

Darcy laughed at the gentle teasing. "You always could make me laugh, even right from the start." She stood and headed into the kitchen as she spoke. " I remember the first day your family moved into the house next door to ours. The movers weren't even finished unloading all your belongings when I looked out my bedroom window and saw a scrawny kid with a towel wrapped around her neck trying to get a mangy old dog to play Lois Lane to her Superman." The executive plucked a bottle of water from the nearly empty shelves and realized with a frown she'd have to go shopping the next day.

"Hey, I'll have you know Trooper had great theatrical range. Lois Lane was only a small part of his repertoire. He also played Cleopatra, Queen Elizabeth and Pocahontas!" With a short groan Wilder pulled herself up from the couch and moved to her bedroom where she removed the white shirt and bra she had worn to work and dropped them into the wicker hamper in the corner.

"As I recall, Trooper would have played a virgin sacrifice in the temple of the Aztecs if a certain sharp eyed babysitter hadn't intervened," came Darcy's voice through the line.

It was Wilder's turn to laugh. "You should have seen the look on your face when you found me chanting over Trooper with a sacrificial dagger made from a plastic picnic knife. Until then I had never seen you as anything but the cool teenager my parents paid to watch me when they went out. Little did I know you were just a squeamish ball of mush! Trooper was even laughing at you I think!"

Back on the couch now, Darcy said, "Yeah, and I had never seen you as anything but an eight year old tagalong. It was then I figured out you had homicidal tendencies and a flair for the dramatic." She rubbed her feet together, luxuriating in the feeling of the silky stockings moving against each other. "It's amazing that we ever became friends if you stop to think about it."

"Not so amazing," Wilder returned. "My natural charm won you over, same as everybody else. You didn't stand a chance against it." The last of the statement was muffled as she pulled a well-worn nightshirt over her head.

"Getting ready for bed so soon?" surmised Darcy. "You still don't wear that ratty shirt I sent you when I was in college, do you?"

"Guilty as charged," noted her friend as she glanced down at the Stanford Cardinal logo. "And it's comfortable, not ratty. I was pretty impressed when I got it you know. You were my first crush." Wilder slipped under the covers of her bed and slid up as she propped pillows behind her.

"I know, but I wasn't your last. Don't any of your women complain about your dilapidated nightwear?" Darcy moved toward her bedroom, turning off the few lights that were on in the loft.

"No more than any of your men would complain about yours. Besides, it isn't on that long anyway," Wilder said in a saucy tone.

"Wilder you are such a dog, I swear!"

"What?" Wilder asked innocently. "I only speak the truth!" The barmaid ended her sentence with a musical laugh. She burrowed further down into the warmth of her bed sheets and placed her free hand behind her head.

Entering her own room, Darcy sat down upon the silk sheets of her double bed. She allowed her body to fall backwards and her slender frame undulated above the rippling waves of the waterbed. She groaned as the stress of the past few days slowly seeped from her body. "God it feels so good to be home. As much as I appreciate the company booking me into a five star hotel, there's nothing like your own bed."

"Can't take the pace anymore?" Wilder smiled to herself as her comment crept dangerously close to their long-standing joke. "It must be your age!"

"Ugh, how did I know you were going to say that? I know you far too well, Wilder McNeil, and FYI… an eight year age difference is hardly enough time to start looking through nursing home brochures!" Darcy unfastened the tiny mother of pearl buttons on her red satin shirt. "Anyway, don't start with me, Wilder. Jodie Tyler still works for me and I don't want it to accidentally slip that you didn't join the 'Peace Corps' and move to South Africa after all now do I?"

"Oh come on, what was I supposed to say? She started getting all serious and talking about us moving in together. She wasn't the one for me and I knew that." Wilder also knew that she had only ever considered one person to be 'the one' but as that person was unobtainable she had resorted to a life of playing the field. Maybe it was a shallow existence but it was all she had left to offer of herself.

Slipping out of her last item of clothing Darcy slid her naked skin into the luxuriously smooth sheets of her bed. The cool silk whispered softly over her body. "Don't you ever worry about bumping into her?"

Wilder smirked. "I did, but luckily for me she bumped into my twin sister."

"You don't have one."

"I do now!"

Darcy shook her head. She had often wondered why Wilder never seemed to find anybody special. "Have you ever heard of such a thing called Karma?"

"Of course." Wilder switched the phone to her other hand, allowing the feeling to return to her numb limb. "But this is what I figured… Coming back as an earthworm in my next life might not be so bad. Look at it this way… I get both sexes and although I do prefer the more fem to fem approach I figured at least I could have fun by myself. What would I care? I'd be a worm!"

Darcy laughed. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"No," Wilder replied. "So then tell me… Did you have fun in San Diego?"

"Fun? I wouldn't exactly call it fun. Oh, I had plans to have fun but fate directed it would be otherwise. You realize I'm blaming this time on fate and not my own poor judgment."

"Geez, here it comes, another 'Darcy picked out a loser' story," Wilder cackled. "I can't wait to hear what was wrong with this one. Let's see...you've already dated a man who didn't tell you he was married, one who wanted a last fling before entering the priesthood, a Republican for God's sake and of course let's not forget the guy with herpes...the gift that keeps on giving!"

"Ha-ha, very funny, Wild. At least I found about them before I slept with them." Darcy clapped her hand over her mouth and muttered an unintelligible curse.

"You slept with somebody and then found out his problem?" Wilder perched up on one elbow. "This I have to hear!"

Removing her hand from her mouth and rolling on her side, Darcy let loose an exasperated sigh. "You know I would have told you about it anyway. We have no secrets, damn it all."

Not many, anyway Wilder thought even as she was verbally agreeing with her friend.

Darcy continued. "I don't know why I trust you with all the dirty details of my life. It must be that I know if I ever did find a great guy, I'm in no danger of you wanting to poach on my territory."

"You've got that right!" Wilder confirmed. "Now, my poor straight baby, tell the nice lesbian all about your troubles." She leaned back onto her pillow, bent her knees and crossed one leg over the other bobbing the free foot up and down. "Go ahead, entertain me."

"Yes, your Highness," the brunette intoned, "It's what I live for. Well, it was during one of those dry lecture sessions that I first noticed him. He was sitting with a small group from a Seattle company we've done business with. I hadn't seen him before but I did know a few of the people he was with. He was cute in an 'I used to be a surfer dude' kind of way. You know, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and a great smile that makes your knees go a little weak."

"Stop. Please. I'm getting all wet here," Wilder said in a dry sarcastic tone.

"Well, maybe you aren't but I sure was. He kept looking over at me, giving me this appraising look. Now you know I don't usually just sleep around but I was bored and I hadn't been with anybody in a long time so I thought to myself 'why not?' and I went over to the group. The manager of the Seattle company introduced us and after a few minutes I asked him out to dinner. I fully intended having him for dessert I can tell you." Darcy felt herself blushing a little at the admission.

"Oooh, you little tramp. Tell me more!" Wilder urged.

"Dinner was okay. The conversation was about as deep as a thimble but I didn't care. When I want conversation, I call you. I just wanted a little horizontal tango from him and by the time dinner was over it was clear he wanted it from me too. We adjourned to my hotel room."

"And?" prompted the blonde?

"And we fell right into bed. The sex was passionate and hot! He had amazing stamina. There were mind-blowing orgasms, a couple of them as a matter of fact. It was fantastic except for one little thing."

"And that was?" Wilder was curious now.

"All the orgasms were his."

Wilders eyebrows dipped in confusion. Turning onto her side she asked, "What... so you weren't really into it?"

"No I was, believe me. I mean this guy was definitely easy on the eye. I was after a quick lay and he was an ideal candidate. It was just one of those things." Darcy shrugged. "I mean… it does happen."

Still feeling confused the barmaid rolled once again onto her back. "Okay let me get this straight. I take it Mr. Selfish wasn't much into sharing?"

"I suppose… it does happen. You can't be expecting a mind-blowing orgasm every time, right? That's just the way it is." Darcy ran her manicured nails over the silken softness of her sheets. "It's easy for guys, they can get there all the time. For us women it's more of a fifty/fifty toss up… if you don't fake it that is!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Wilder shot up to a sitting position, staring down incredulously at the receiver of her telephone. Her confusion was replaced by mild bewilderment. "What fifty/fifty toss up? Damn it woman, who the hell have you been sleeping with?" Stretching out her legs, Wilder placed one hand upon her hip. "Please tell me you're kidding?" she pleaded.

The unexpected tone in her friend's voice surprised Darcy. Having no idea where this conversation were heading she answered truthfully, "No, why?"

"Why?" Wilder echoed and fell with a light thud back onto her bed; her body rocking against the spring mattress. She was suddenly unsure how to respond to that question. In her experience both partners had always been satisfied when it came to sex - often repeatedly so. What Wilder didn't understand was as much as she and Darcy had discussed personal relationships she had always been led to believe Darcy's was at least fulfilling. Had Darcy been satisfied to believe that was simply the way physical relationships were?

Diverting her mind from swarming thoughts, Wilder answered Darcy's question. "Because… well it's just that from my own experience there is no fifty/fifty chance on whether or not myself or whoever I am with hits the big one at least once!"

Darcy laughed. "Yeah, Wilder… it can be hard enough for us to get there alone, yet you expect me to believe two women together can hit the big one repeatedly? Remember, Wild, I like to think my seniority in the age difference means I'm less naive than you think!"

"You don't believe me?" Wilder asked, stunned.

"Of course not!"

Shaking her head Wilder rolled out of bed. "So you've never even wondered about it?" Wilder walked out of her bedroom and back into the kitchen. With the windows open all the smoke had now disappeared. Taking the charred remains of her dinner out of the oven, Wilder kicked the door shut with her foot and dumped the remains, tray included, into the trashcan.

"Thought about what?" asked Darcy, although she did have an inkling what Wilder was referring to.

Wilder closed her windows. "Oh I know you've thought about it. I can remember a couple of times you've questioned me on what it's like with a woman. Why don't you believe me now?" The barmaid opened her fridge and began rifling around the contents.

"I thought you were just exaggerating a little! Anyway… what are all those clanking sounds?"

"I killed my dinner. I'm looking for something to fill a hole." Wilder pulled a small carton of milk from the bottom shelf and placed it upon the side work surface. She then opened a wall cabinet and pulled out a bottle of strawberry syrup.

Darcy smiled instinctively. "So that means it's strawberry milk time."

"Oh you know me so well." Wilder opened the carton of milk and poured a generous amount of syrup into the half full carton. She then shook the contents vigorously while holding the telephone in the crook of her neck.

"You've been drinking that stuff since you were a kid."

Wilder took a sip of the now flavored milk. "And it just keeps getting better and better." Carton in hand she headed back into her room and slid between the covers of her bed. "Okay, so where was I?"

"Keeping on the same train of thought, I think you were about to explain something else to me that keeps getting better and better," Darcy informed her friend.

Instead of laughing, the barmaid's voice took on a serious tone. "Darcy, when did you lower your expectations?"

"In what?" asked the executive. "I still have high expectations of myself and my job. High expectations of life in general."

"So why not high expectations of sex too?"

Darcy thought for a moment before responding. Finding her mouth a little dry, she reached for the water bottle that had accompanied her from the kitchen and unscrewing the cap, took a long sip.

"I suppose I'd have to say I haven't expected much from sex since the beginning. Once I figured out sex wasn't the bells ringing, fireworks exploding, orgasm every time thing the movies led us to believe, I just haven't made a big deal of it."

Pausing as she lifted the carton of strawberry milk to her mouth again, Wilder clicked her tongue in sympathy. "I hate to break this to you, girlfriend, but sex is a bell ringing, fireworks exploding, orgasm every time thing for me. With me too, I might add."

"Modest little thing, aren't you?" Darcy observed as she returned the water bottle to the bedside stand. "I guess next you're going to tell me the reason for the difference in our experiences is that you sleep with women and I sleep with men."

"That's exactly what I'm going to tell you," Wilder stated and drained the last vestiges of the milk.

"And what if the truth is I'm just frigid?" Darcy challenged.

"Darce, if you ever have an orgasm you're not frigid and you pretty much said you have them half the time. What we need to do is figure out why you don't have them the other half."

Darcy laughed in spite of the somewhat uncomfortable exploration of her sexuality. "Jesus, Wild, who died and made you Dr. Ruth? I can see you're not going to let this go and I'd be lying if I said I didn't find this intriguing, so go ahead…figure it out for me. Just remember, I wouldn't be doing this with anyone else but you so you should feel privileged."

"Compliment duly noted," Wilder said. "Now, let's get down to it. You say you have an orgasm fifty percent of the time. There has to be a common thread there. What are you doing during those times when you do have an orgasm?"

"Let me see," the brunette replied thoughtfully. "I had a fantastic orgasm about two weeks ago. It was very satisfying. I only wish someone had been there to share it with me."

Wilder grinned as she listened. "Okay, that's 'Darcy-speak' for saying you can come when you masturbate. What else?"

The blush on Darcy's face was very becoming. "The other time that's pretty consistent for me is during…um…you know…oral sex."

"Giving or receiving?" her friend asked innocently.

"Giving or..?" Darcy trailed off when she realized her chain was being jerked. Well two chains can get jerked she thought. "Oh yeah…receiving definitely. Nothing like laying back with an eager partner between your thighs who enjoys being between the spread legs of a hot, wet woman."

Darcy's narrative had a jerking effect all right but it was on Wilder's libido.

"Oh really," Was the only response Wilder was capable of and it was breathily delivered about an octave below her normal range. She swallowed hard and after a second added, "Well at least it proves the point I was trying to make here."

"And that was?" Darcy inquired.

"You need to have sex with a woman."

An abrupt laugh rose from Darcy's chest. "So what are you saying, Wild? If a woman wants any chance of a good sex life they have to sleep with another woman?"

"No, I'm saying that might be the case for you. Believe me, I have absolutely no experience with guys so who am I to make any kind of judgment like that?"

Darcy's eyes twinkled as a sly smile overtook her lips. Rolling onto her side she said, "Oh I don't know… what about 'Handy Hubert' who took you to the Prom?"

Wilder covered her face with her free hand. "Ugh I can't believe you brought him up. I swear that guy had multiple appendages." The barmaid shook her head in memory. 'Handy Hubert' otherwise known as Hubert Willis was their neighbor from across the road. Wilder had never wanted to attend the Prom. She was pretty sure turning up on the arm of her then girlfriend may not have gone down well. Unfortunately when her girlfriend had opted to attend with another boy she had done so begrudgingly. Although Wilder was confident in her sexuality and had confided with Darcy even then, her girlfriend, Clare, had been less than open. There was also the fact that she had yet to reveal the truth to her parents and had delayed doing so to avoid the first combined spousal related heart attack in history. So she had attended the Prom with Hubert much to her regret as she spent the entire evening trying to avoid the boy's hands. It had taken a very believable threat of actual bodily harm to cease his actions.

"You know, until you mentioned him I was content to believe he was just the last vestiges of an annoying dream I once had."

Darcy laughed again, shaking her head. "Nope, it really did happen. I remember seeing the fear on his face as you quite successfully threatened the life right out of him. Man that was so funny to see. He must have been about six inches taller than you too."

"Yeah but you didn't hear where I threatened him!" Wilder paused. "Hold on, you saw that? I didn't realize you were visiting your parents that night. You told me you were at some conference."

The executive cringed as she realized she had been caught out in a secret she had harbored for many years. For some unknown reason she had decided to cancel the meeting she had planned and visit her parents instead. She presumed an unknown protective side of her had wanted to make sure her friend was going to be okay. "The meeting was cancelled so I visited my parents," she said. "I did think it was a little strange that you went to the Prom with him when you were with Clare." Darcy had never liked her. "I suppose I was just looking out to make sure you got home safely."

"How come you never came to see me that weekend?" Wilder asked wondering whether she should feel hurt.

"I had to get back to work." Darcy said simply.

"Oh." Wilder picked up her empty milk carton and shook it as if looking for any last remnants of liquid. Suddenly realization dawned on her. "Aww, that is so sweet. You were worried about little old me?"

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Like I had any reason! Anyway what were we talking about?" She thought for a moment, trying to get off the subject. "Oh yes! So you think if I want to enjoy sex more I need to 'do it' with a woman?"

"That's just my humble opinion."

Although Darcy had initially laughed at Wilder's suggestion, inside she was feeling extremely curious. It was something she had never fully admitted to herself but the notion had played on her mind many times before this night. There was, however, the singular fact that Darcy still found it hard to believe sex could be as good as Wilder built it up to be. Was it really an unbelievable concept or a realization she would have to acknowledge that maybe she had been missing something all these years?

Darcy could feel temptation creeping into her veins but was slightly self-conscious in admitting that fact. "I don't know, Wild. I find it hard to believe." She paused in thought. "Okay then… I believe myself to be an open-minded person. How can you convince me that I should even consider this, let alone give it a shot?"

"What?" Wilder almost sputtered. "You want me to convince you? That sounds suspiciously like an invitation to me," she teased.

Darcy laughed and teased right back, "Maybe it was."

The blonde sat up in her bed, covers dropping to her waist. "Don't play with me, Darcy. Number one, you may be eight years older than me but when it comes to sex with a woman, I'm the expert here. Number two, you couldn't handle me."

"Couldn't handle you? You're not very modest, are you? Look, I've been with enough men that one woman more or less wouldn't be a big deal."

"Maybe not," Wilder apparently conceded, "Unless that one woman was me."

Darcy was quiet a moment, considering what she heard. When she spoke it was in a low tone. "Tell me." With those two words the entire tenor of the conversation changed.

"Tell you what? Tell you what it's like with any woman or what it's like with me?"

Darcy knew in her heart which one she wanted to hear about but she couldn't bring herself to say it. "Either," she said, taking the easy option. Changing the phone over to her left ear, she adjusted to a more comfortable position.

Wilder smiled as she reclined again. Darcy wants details? That's a breakthrough. "I haven't slept with every woman in San Francisco, though not for lack of trying, so I'll just speak for myself."

Darcy felt her heartbeat pick up curiously at Wilder's statement and she used her peripheral senses to study her own reactions even as she gave her friend her full attention. Almost without realizing it, the brunette brought her free hand up and began lightly stroking the skin of her bare abdomen.

"When you're with me, you are my total focus. There isn't anything on earth but you and me and what we're going to do together," Wilder began. She spoke slowly, deliberately using a seductive tone. "I notice everything about you. I see what causes your breathing to become erratic, watch as your nipples tighten beneath your clothing and take every opportunity to touch you and communicate how much I want you."

Fascinated, Darcy listened and visualized the scenario in her mind. She had never been the object of such a single-minded seduction as she was hearing about. The men she had slept with had their own satisfaction as their primary goal, not hers. Her hand slipped down to her thigh and caused her own flesh to quiver at the touch. "Go on," she breathed into the phone.

Wilder did. "You've come to my place and you know why we're here. I lead you to the couch and as we sit I leave my hands on yours. I'm going to let you set the pace because your pleasure is what matters to me but I want you to know how excited I am and how determined I am that you are going to be absolutely satisfied. I lean into you and bring my mouth to yours slowly. Tasting you, learning you." Wilder paused here and listened to the slightly ragged breathing on the other end of the line. "Darcy?"

The older woman swallowed a groan of exasperation and said, "Yeah?"

"Do you still think a woman can't beat out a guy any day when it comes to making love?"

Darcy knew her reaction to Wilder's short narrative gave her the answer to that question but she was stubborn and didn't want to let her younger friend have the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so.' Composing herself and moving her hand away from her now slightly spread thighs, the brunette answered in a voice steadier than she felt.

"I'll admit your little tale struck a small chord in me but I have to tell you I'm still sure a man would be a better lover for me," she vowed.

"Wanna bet?" was Wilder's reply. The glove was hurled.

In becoming increasingly engrossed in their conversation, Darcy had closed her eyes as she concentrated solely upon the soft tones of Wilder's voice. Then as the challenge so unexpectedly flew towards her the executive's eyes shot open. Licking suddenly dry lips Darcy opened her mouth to answer but silence remained. What she was becoming aware of was the inner voice that was getting louder and more persistent. It was a voice that forced her to acknowledge something she had tried to resist for a long time. It was the realization that she really did want to experience that kind of intimacy with Wilder. In the past the older woman had always dismissed her close feelings towards Wilder as that of a big sister - but what if it were something more? Darcy's reaction to her friend's words had definitely been that of arousal.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy composed her thoughts as she replied to Wilder. "I have to say to me that also sounds like an invitation!"

Wilder smiled to herself as a smaller part of her wondered when their innocent conversation had turned into obvious flirting. Still, her heart pounded rapidly in excitement. "Well that would depend," she replied.

"On?"

"On whether or not you would accept." Wilder held her breath in anticipation.

There was a long pause as Darcy's mind processed Wilder's words. There was no getting around the simple fact that she did want to delve further. "What if I was to say yes?"

Wilder pushed her seated body backwards until she was against her bed's headboard. She wanted to shout 'yes' and 'anything you want' and 'I want you so much' but she needed to be sure Darcy knew what she was implying and whether she really wanted that. "If you were to say yes to me proving my point? I don't know... are you sure you have the ability to admit you were wrong?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean. You do have a point there." Darcy conceded. "I mean I know you well enough to understand you can be a sore loser." She smiled as she waited for Wilder's response.

"Hey!" came the expected outburst. "That's not what I was…" Wilder paused as her mind suddenly changed directions. "Okay. You really do seem positive that I'm wrong."

Darcy wasn't sure at all but she agreed on purpose just to see where Wilder's devious mind was heading. "Uh huh."

"Well how about we make this a little more interesting?" Crossing her legs Wilder plucked at the edge of her favorite t-shirt.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Just a little something to make this more… like I said… 'interesting'." Wilder couldn't believe what she was saying let alone what was happening. She wondered where her bravado had suddenly sprung from. It certainly wasn't alcohol induced; she hadn't accepted any drinks from customers all evening. Maybe its just overtiredness, she presumed fleetingly, as she was unable to pull herself from the possibilities of their conversation.

Darcy herself was thoroughly engaged in their - what had definitely gone way past mild flirting- conversation. "Interesting?" Brown eyes twinkled. "What do you have in mind?"

"A little wager."

"You want to make a bet?"

"Oh believe me… the outcome can be anything you desire… and I do mean anything."

That final word was spoken so enticingly low that the implications forced Darcy's body to respond before she had even thought of a verbal reply. Both her curiosity and sexuality were being sparked.

"Spit it out, Wilder. Tell me, in plain English, what you propose."

Wilder turned over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows as she composed her proposition. "Okay, this is the deal. You contend you have better sex with men than you would with a woman. I say you're wrong."

"And how do you propose to prove it?"

"You and I will have sex. Better sex with me means I win but if you're not satisfied and pleasured to the point of admitting sex with a woman is better, you win."

"Satisfied and pleasured?"

"Yeah. Look, you said you only had orgasms fifty percent of the time with men. Most men can go maybe twice in an evening?"

"If I'm lucky," the executive snorted. "Maybe three times if the moon is blue."

"So you have one or two orgasms on a good sexual occasion with a man. Fine. I say I should be able to double that in the same space of time. One evening, four orgasms."

Four? Darcy thought. She's actually saying she can give me four orgasms in one night? I'm not sure my body's even capable of that. Instead of giving voice to those doubts, she said, "And if I were to agree to that challenge, what are the stakes? Make it something good because I'm positive I'm coming out on top in this one."

Wilder held back a comment about Darcy being on top, instead giving careful consideration to what would be the prize. "If you win, you not only get bragging rights over me, I'll throw in a weekend at that spa you like so much out in Napa."

The executive realized this was serious now. Two days at The Ranch out in wine country would set the barmaid back at least several hundred dollars, a huge sum for her friend. She had to give Wilder credit; she knew what strings to pull to get her interested.

Darcy knew she needed to ask the inevitable question. "What do you want if I lose?"

"Just one thing," Wilder said. "If I'm the winner, I want unlimited sexual favors."

"Unlimited sexual favors." Darcy tried out the phrase and found herself fascinated. "Tell me what that means."

"Just what it says. You and me, sex, anytime, anywhere. Think you could handle that?"

The executive's competitive nature was brought out now in full force. "I won't have to worry about that now, will I? I plan on winning this little wager. Just tell me when and where."

Wilder chewed her lower lip as she thought. "This is Sunday now so lets say next Saturday. My place at seven. That gives you almost a week if you want to back out."

"I won't need it, but maybe you will" the brunette replied. "Saturday works for me just fine."

"It's a bet then," the blonde said. "Darce, this is going to change things between us no matter how it turns out so I might as well tell you now. I've wanted you for a long time. If this is what it takes to make that happen, so be it." Wilder knew she wasn't telling the whole truth but she had to be at least partially honest with her friend.

Darcy was stunned. She had no idea Wilder had been thinking about her in that way. The way I've thought about her the executive leveled with herself.

"I'll see you Saturday, Wilder. Good night."

"Good night, Darcy. Sweet dreams."

After they hung up, Darcy reached up to turn off the bedside lamp. Unlimited sexual favors. Oh yeah, I'll have sweet dreams.

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 30 ruj 2012 18:58

nesretno djetinjstvo... veze s mafijom..

~ Someone's Justice ~
by Anne Reagin

Christmas vacation was only a week away. Mattie Hilliard had been on one for over a month, trying to get her daughter to commit to a dance and two parties over the holidays. Samantha had dodged the bullet so far, but her mother had stepped up her campaign. "Phone Sam! I think it's your Mom!"

"God! Will she never give it up? I don't know what it will take."

"Sure you do. You know exactly what it's gonna take, but I don't recommend that you go through with it." Sally Farrell was Sam's best friend. They had started their freshman year together at Auburn University and were still roommates in their junior year. The coeds had helped each other through shattered romances. Each had held the other's head over the commode on more than one drunken occasion. They had suffered their academic agonies together as well. Sally had met Sam's mother on only two occasions but knew from all the late night talks she'd had with her roommate that Mattie Hilliard was not going to take the news well.

"I want to tell her Sally. I'm really tired of this charade and she won't stop cramming me down the throat of every available man in Metro Atlanta. What is the worst thing that can happen?"

"She'd never speak to you again. HMMMMmmm. There's no loss there, though is there?" Sally laughed.

"I better go grab the phone. She's on hold long distance and besides costing her money, it's giving her time to polish up her arguments for the Christmas Dance." Sam rolled her eyes heavenward and started down the hall.

"Merry Christmas Daddy! I'm so glad to see you!" Sam threw her arms around her father in a heartfelt hug, which he gratefully returned. The young woman turned to her mother who briefly wiped her lips against Sam's hair in lieu of a real greeting.

"You're late Samantha and we have so many things to do tonight," Mrs. Hilliard scolded. "Sam, get her luggage upstairs will you?" He saluted sarcastically and turned to his appointed duty. Samantha loved it when her dad fought back, even if he only did it with humor. "Sam!" Samantha and Mr. Hilliard both responded.

"What?" They looked at each other and laughed. "It's your own fault," Samantha nudged him in the ribs. "You shouldn't have named me after yourself." It hadn't been a problem until she went away to school and encouraged everyone on campus to call her just 'Sam'. Now she was used to answering to the shortened version of her name and it drove her mother crazy when she was at home.

"I wasn't speaking to you SAMANTHA." She deliberately exaggerated the pronunciation. Mrs. Hilliard rattled off her instructions to her husband. "Come on in the kitchen Samantha while I check on dinner. We need to talk about the party tomorrow night."

'We sure do,' Sam thought. She had made a big decision; one she knew was not going to go over well. In fact, she feared that it might cause a serious rift between herself and her parents. After a great deal of soul searching and self-examination, Samantha Hilliard had discovered that she loved women and one woman in particular. Hating confrontation, Sam had spent the last three months getting up her nerve to announce this fact to her folks. She didn't want to ruin the holidays for her family, but her Mother wouldn't take no for an answer and Sam had no intention of being pawed by some country club gigolo at the Christmas dance just to please her mother. Besides, it was hard enough spending so much time away from Sharon. Sam wasn't about to tell the love of her life that she'd spent several evenings over Christmas being hit on by local studs. Sharon would break somebody's arm.

Sharon had, in fact, wanted to spend Christmas with Sam so badly that she asked to come home to Atlanta with her lover. In a panic, that involved several late night strategy sessions with her friend Sally, Sam came up with several reasons she could give Sharon why it was a bad idea. In reality, she could just see how her mother would react to Sharon's masculine mannerisms and her butch appearance. It would be hard enough to confess her sexual preference in concept. Meeting the object of her daughter's affection would finish Mattie Hilliard off. The second time a goodbye kiss with Sharon had resulted in passionate lovemaking, Sam knew this trip home would be hard to handle for everyone.

"This is the last of it." Depositing the last dinner plate in the sink, Sam Hilliard came up behind his wife and put his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her neck, causing her to stiffen and pull away from him. He shrugged his shoulders and moved into a chair at the kitchen table, beside his daughter.

"I'm glad you're here Dad. There's something I've been trying to tell Mom for a while and she doesn't seem to get it. I've tried to say this in so many ways…" she stared at the floor hoping for some miraculous message to reveal itself there. He nodded, encouraging her to go on. The love he felt for his daughter was obvious and it gave her the strength to speak.

"Mom, Dad, I'm in love with a woman." Samantha waited, expecting the ceiling to fall in at minimum. She searched her father's face and detected no change from the previous minute, which relieved her. Her mother's face however was changing shades, light to darker red, then almost purple. Her mouth opened and closed, just like the goldfish that Sharon had in a bowl at her apartment.

"We'll need to send you somewhere so that you can get help" were the first words out of Mrs. Hilliard's mouth.

"I'm not ill Mother, I've just made a choice about how I want to live my life and it wasn't an easy one either." Sam looked from her mother to her father, waiting.

"Ridiculous! I have never heard anything so disgusting in my life!" That was the expected reaction and Mattie did not disappoint her daughter.

"I know you don't understand Mother and I'm sorry if it hurts you." Trying to remember some of the things she had rehearsed with Sally she grasped for something to say. "It has nothing to do with the way you and daddy raised me."

"I should say not! We did everything for you, gave you everything…" Mrs. Hilliard could only sputter. Her vocabulary seemed to be lost somewhere.

"Now Mattie, she's our daughter first and anything else comes after that." Sam loved her father at this moment more than ever before and that was considerable.

"Don't try to appease me Sam. It's an abomination! Our only child is a queer! That's going to be fine news for her grandparents now isn't it?"

It was the first of many low blows. Samantha hadn't seen it coming though and tears popped into her eyes as if she had been slapped. Mattie was concerned with what the people at the club would think. Suddenly she thought about the parents of the young men she had matched Samantha up with for various holiday festivities. What could she tell them? If the word got out, she would be mortified! She struck out at her daughter, wanting to deal her the kind of earth shattering blow she had been dealt. She sagged against the countertop, her back to the rest of her family.

"You're upset Mother and this is startling news for you. Why don't I just go upstairs to bed and we can talk about this some more when we've all had some rest and a little time to adjust?"

Her mother spun on her. "I have a better idea 'Missy'. Why don't you just get your luggage and get out of this house?!" The demonic look in Mattie's eyes shocked both her husband and her daughter.

"Mattie, you don't mean that and you know it!" Sam Hilliard protested, but his fear was realized when she delivered her ultimatum.

"You go, or I go. Do you understand me? It's as simple as that." Mattie Hilliard was five foot eight to her daughter's five foot five and had to lean down to do it, but these damning words were delivered eye to eye. Sam stared at her, letting the full flush of anger rise into her cheeks while words formed in her mind.

"I will not let you make me feel ashamed of who I am Mother. I realize that you're upset, but if you would let me tell you how happy I am now that I've found out…"

Mrs. Hilliard waved both of her hands in Samantha's face to stop her. "No! I don't want to know any of it. You can keep your perverted little stories to yourself." She exited the kitchen and swept up the stairs, slamming the door to the master bedroom.

Samantha and her father looked forlornly at each other. When the tears started streaming down his daughter's face, Sam Hilliard opened his arms and took her into his embrace. They held on to each other, trying to think, to understand what had just transpired. He would fight his wife over his daughter's happiness if that was what Sam needed from him. "I'll speak to her." He started after his wife, but his daughter caught hold of his arm and stopped him.

"No dad. There's gonna be enough hell for you to pay around here as it is. Don't do that to yourself, too." She hung her head and a single teardrop fell onto the toe of her trendy workboot. "I think I'll call Aunt Jane and see if she'll take me in for a few days. I want to believe that some part of Christmas can be salvaged. Maybe if I give her a little time and some space, she can come to terms with it." Sam smiled for her father, because she knew that he knew that both of their hearts were breaking. Her smile was the only gift she could give him at the moment.

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 01 lis 2012 20:41

neriješeni zločin...detektivka.i federalna istražiteljica

~ Fractured ~
by Erin O'Reilly

Tessa, driven by a work ethic that didn't tolerate anything less than the best both professionally and privately, was the ultimate police detective. Those who worked with her knew her as a demanding workaholic, who played by the book and expected everyone else to do the same. She hadn't always been that way-not in the beginning. Tessa was the middle child of three girls and always had to fight for the approval of a domineering father and an unbending, distant mother. She often found solace in flights of fantasy that transported her from her life of not fitting in, to a world where she found love. Her older sister, Jessica, always succeeded and, thereby, was the golden child who could do no wrong. Tessa was a disappointment to her parents and grandparents for she was suppose to be a boy-a stigma that would shape her life forever. Her younger sister, Rachel, with blonde hair and blue eyes, was the one everyone loved and doted on. It would make sense that Tessa might be jealous and resent her sisters but she didn't. Instead, she clung to them in an attempt to have some of their sun shine on her, too-it never did. During her school years, Tessa never lived up to what her one-hundred-thirty-five IQ said her potential should be. She learned early on that she could get by in school with the minimum of effort and later she took a perverse pleasure in disappointing her parents. Where Tessa failed to achieve her parents' love, she conversely was very popular and voted class president in high school. After obtaining a degree in criminal justice, Tessa applied to the police academy. Her father expressed his surprise at her graduating and told her she'd never make it as a police officer. It was then that she decided to prove him wrong. Tessa had known since junior high that she didn't get the same thrill as the other girls did over boys-she was only looking at the girls. In her first year of college, she had her first lesbian encounter. It was then that she understood why, despite her popularity, she never seemed to fit in with the other girls. At first, Tessa was gung-ho at being a homicide detective. She thought of herself as the defender of those who lost their lives to what she called the deranged element of society. Near the end of her first two years, Tessa found herself spiraling into depression. She came to the realization, after several months of therapy, that she could no longer champion the dead-it was too great a burden to carry. She couldn't allow herself to care about the victims and began ignoring the suffering of the murder victim's family and friends. No longer did she cry for those that had no voice. Instead, she closed off her heart as she concentrated on bringing the perpetrators to justice. Yet, nightmares remained. Her reputation as a solid detective, who had a high rate of arrests, had many seasoned detectives requesting to be her partner. She had three partners before she finally found a good match in Gus Barrett, who she was partners with for the past eight years. In the romance department, Tessa didn't have time for any type of long term commitment, for she focused completely on her job. The lovers she did have, never asked for more than she could give and that suited her nicely. She had suffered her entire life without the love of her parents and she wasn't about to let anyone hurt her like that again. Still, her heart cried out for love.

When federal prosecutor, Anna Mikaelson, saw Tessa Jacoby, she ended her conversation with Beverly Paycheck abruptly. This conversation is going nowhere. Bev will never get it that I'm not interested in her. Anna walked quickly toward the exit, pushed open the door, and lengthened her stride. As she neared the detective, she smiled. They met five months earlier when a chance encounter in a courtroom brought them face to face-Tessa took her breath away. Over the time since that initial meeting, they had shared many lunches at a nearby deli, where playfulness was at the top of the menu. They had dated as much as they could-their hectic schedules always seemed to get in the way of something more meaningful. At least that was what Anna told herself was the reason she hadn't had lunch with or called the detective in almost a month. Anna's case involving minor members of the Petroff crime family had occupied most of her time for the last several months. Once the trial began, her only free time was when she slept and there was precious little of that. That morning, the judge had charged the jury and the waiting began while they deliberated the evidence. Seeing the detective again set her body humming as the attraction she had for Tessa bloomed. She's still as stunning as ever.

When Tessa heard, "Detective Jacoby," a brief shiver went down her spine. With a smile, Tessa turned around to see Anna walking quickly toward her. She could be the poster child for her Swedish heritage. Her height, five-foot-nine, accentuated her lean, muscular body that a charcoal gray suit covered but did not hide. Her naturally blonde hair glistened as the sun seemed to kiss each strand. Her clear complexion, set off by eyes the color of the sky on a crisp, clear winter morning, was flawless. She was a vision of perfection. They danced to the music of flirtation every time they met and this time was no exception. There was no mistaking the look of pleasure on Anna's face when Tessa's eyes overtly appraised the lawyer's body. The draw was strong and Tessa knew it wouldn't take much for her to fall for the words that slid so easily off the lawyer's tongue. Nevertheless, the sting of Anna's lack of communication for the last month hurt and she wasn't sure she could or wanted to get past that. After Tessa overheard two women talking about Anna and her reputation as a skirt chaser, she understood why she hadn't heard from Anna in a month-she'd moved on. In spite of that, it still took every ounce of her resistance not to let herself fall for the smooth lines she knew would come. My life is complicated enough without adding an unfaithful lover to the mix. It was foolish of her to think that a philanderer would ever change. Still, there was the attraction, and the kisses they shared at doorways after their dates were both intense and pleasurable. The fact that it was always Anna, who pulled away just as passions began to beg for more, confused her. If the reputation of being a womanizer was true, then why hadn't Anna taken her to bed? Her conclusion-Anna was already bedding someone on a permanent basis. Yet, the familiar stirrings of arousal in her body didn't seem to care.

In a soft sensual voice, Anna said, "I saw you leaving the courthouse. It's been a while, Tessa."

"Yeah, it has. How are you doing, Anna?"

Intense blue eyes focused on Tessa's face. "Oh," she said with a wink, "things are definitely looking up at the moment." She gazed into Tessa's eyes.

Falling easily back into their familiar bantering, with a wide grin Tessa asked, "And why is that?"

"I think you know but I'll spell it out for you, if you like," Anna said playfully before her face became solemn. "I've missed you."

Tessa shrugged. "I didn't go anywhere."

"I know," Anna whispered. I was such an idiot.

Tessa saw the lawyer's eyes leave her and settle elsewhere. Following the gaze, she saw a buxom, slim built woman standing nearby and Anna's eyes were raking over the body in what looked like amazement. Tessa stared, too, for the woman's double D breasts were something to behold. "Now, there's a mouthful," she quipped.

Anna laughed and looked at Tessa before her eyes slowly ran up the detective's body. "I was wondering if those big boobs could suffocate someone if their face was buried in them." She grinned.

Wiggling her eyebrows and laughing, Tessa said, "At least you'd go out with a smile on your face."

Reaching out and running a well manicured finger across the detective's hand, Anna shivered. "I can think of other ways to make you smile."

Tess felt her body react in pleasure.

"Have dinner with me and I'll show you what I mean."

Anna's assault on her libido, that was screaming yes, made Tessa gulp at the provocative invitation. Maybe this time Anna would actually come inside and not leave her frustrated and alone at the door. Do I take a chance? II," Tessa began, relieved when she heard the sound of a car's horn. Turning, Tessa let out a sigh of relief when she saw Gus behind the wheel of his requisitioned battered old black Crown Vic. Tessa gave him a brief nod before turning back to the lawyer. She let a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth before she again looked back toward the street. "We've got a bodyI'm sorry."

With a shrug, Anna said, "No problem. I took a chance you'd be freethere's always next time."

Tessa didn't want to end the connection, for something told her this time it would be different. Her eyes searched Anna's until she heard another honk. "I've got to go," she reluctantly said. "I'll see you around or you can call me," she added before she turned and hurried to the waiting vehicle.

Anna watched as Tessa walked away and let her gaze fall on the detective's firm backside. Nice tight ass. Feeling stirrings of pleasure, she continued to watch as Tessa slid into the car. She heard someone say her name and when she turned in the direction of the voice, she saw a young law clerk that worked in her office. "Hi, Sylvia," she said, as she took more one quick look at the departing vehicle.

Tessa closed the door, pulled the seatbelt across her chest, and looked at Anna. She hadn't even left the area and the lawyer had already found another woman. In the space of a few minutes, she's gone from the chick in the courthouse, followed by me and now she's with a girl who might be jailbait. When the lawyer turned in her direction, their eyes met and Tessa swallowed the lump in her throat before letting out a long, slow silent chuckle. She's amazing.

Sitting in quiet contemplation as she always did before a case began, Tessa absently said, "Where?"

"South Howard."

"Rough neighborhood."

"A couple of kids were playing in a vacant lot when they came across the body. The grandmother of one of the kids' called it in at ten-thirty."

Tessa looked at her partner of five years. He wasn't a big man-stood about five-seven-his baldness was what everyone noticed first. His head was the only part of him that didn't have hair. He sported a thick moustache, bushy eyebrows, black hair peeked out of his unbuttoned collar where his tie was loosely hanging, and each segment of his fingers had thick black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and his voice low and melodic. The man was old school police. He felt that the technology was only an aid in smoking out perpetrators. He told his partner repeatedly that it was through old fashioned police investigation that required knocking on doors, finding leads and putting all the pieces together, that brought a murder investigation to its conclusion. Tessa was glad to have him for a partner, for she could rely on him always having her back just as she has his.

"Any other information?"

"Female is all I know." Gus waited a minute before he said, "Cap said that you're primary. You ok with that?"

"Yep." Gus nodded at the white bag sitting between them. "There's a roast beef on rye with horseradish and mayo, just like you like it. Got you a pickle, too. Oh, and a water."

"Thanks. I can't remember the last time I ate." Tessa took the bag, opened it, pulled out the sandwich, tore the wrapper off, and took a bite.

"You and that lawyer still dating?" Gus asked as he kept his eyes on the cars in front of him.

Tessa laughed. "You need some gossip to share with your pals in your bowling league?"

Gus snorted. "No. You know that Helen always asks about you. She always wants to know if you're eating right and if you're dating anyone. I figured if I told her you were still dating the lawyer she'd stop giving me the names of women she wants to fix you up with."

Taking another bite of her sandwich, Tessa let her partner's words roll around in her mind. Swallowing, she said, "Tell Helen thanks for thinking about me and that I've got it all under control."

"So you're dating her?"

Tessa grinned. "This sandwich is delicious."

Gus laughed. "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"Nope."

Gus let out a heartier laugh. "Women, I'll never understand 'em."

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 02 lis 2012 23:14

priča o dvije prijateljice iz djetinjstva i njihovom odrastanju i prvoj ljubavi ...

~ Beginnings ~
by Fingersmith

Summer - 1974. Hot, sticky and filled with promise. Days filled with nothing but what my imagination could conjure up - and that could be pretty frightening. Streets were packed with children on school holidays, playing tiggy-it and kerby, and avoiding cars as they raced to retrieve an errant ball. Space hoppers were the new black. I was six years old. It was Levenshulme. And that's where I first spotted Ashley Richards … or Ash, as she liked to be called …

Ashley Richards. Even today, when I say her name my whole body smiles. I can still remember it vividly … the day she fell into my arms … fell into my life. Yes. Fell. In our front garden we had a huge tree in the corner … huge. I used to love climbing up as high as I could to get away from the brood, and even at six years old I could get pretty high. My mum, to this day, doesn't know I used to climb it. I used to sit above her when she would be bellowing out into the streets the litany of names of my siblings, all in rank order, announcing that 'Your bloody tea's on the table!' Amazing what power you can possess by being just a little higher than everyone else. I felt on top of the world. Every teatime it was the same. Until one Sunday that is … I had climbed one branch higher than usual and was perched there, gloating. Mum had been and gone and I had watched my brothers and sisters trundle in the front door one by one, ready for tea. I had just climbed down when I heard a distinct rustling of leaves coming from overhead. It was, or so it seemed, a split second later when something landed on me. It was big. It was heavy. It was wriggling like crazy on top of my battered and bruised body. It was Ash (as I later found out).

Blue eyes wide with shock and panic - and pain …. if my aching backside and stomach was any gauge. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around her, and both our squirming bodies meshed into each other. Black hair tumbled forward and part of it went inside my mouth, an obvious distraction when I was trying to scream. The more we tried to separate, the more entangled we became. A voice from above me hollered 'Stop!' and like the good girl I was - I did. I lay there completely rigid as the blue-eyed girl systematically pulled herself free, allowing my scrawny arms to flop lifelessly to my sides.

'Are you okay?' Concern was evident. The tears I had felt welling up in my throat - you know the ones we try to swallow but become like footballs - miraculously disappeared. Silently I nodded my head, looking at the now towering girl looming above me. I wasn't okay, but damned if I was going to admit it to her.

She held her hand down towards me to help me up, and for a split second I considered the idea of refusing, but the pains shooting up the cheeks of my arse told me to stop being a martyr and accept. So I did. Her hands were cool in comparison to my clammy, dirty ones, and with one deft movement I was on my feet … I don't think I even had the chance of bending my legs. I staggered forward only to be captured by her once again, my head hitting her in the chest. Jesus … she was so tall. The feeling I had whilst lying on the ground came back - she still towered above me!

'Sorry about that …' her eyes flicked to the tree, 'I kind of lost my footing somewhere along the line.' I just stared at her, gob-smacked. I wanted to demand why she had been there in the first place, but nothing would come out. I must have appeared simple … and I think for those few minutes I was. 'Are you sure you're okay?' A quick nod was all I could muster. Her face took on a concerned look … and my arse was still throbbing to the tune of the birds singing.

After about a minute of staring at me, she stuck her hand in my direction. 'Ashley Richards. Erm … or Ash. I just moved down the Avenue about two weeks ago.'

I was just about to answer - my mouth had formed around a word and was ready to let it slip through my gormless lips when 'Bloody hell, Lou. Your tea's on the table. In!' Mum. And she was pissed off. Big style.

I turned back to Ashley and flashed her a smile, 'Got to go. See ya around, yeah?' Her face broke out into an enormous grin and she nodded, her hand still outstretched. Impulsively, I grabbed her hand and pumped up and down like I had seen my mum doing to people she had just met. Those cool fingers clutched at mine for a brief moment before my mum's increasing ire got in the way.

'Inside now, lady. You can speak to your friend tomorrow.'

Another smile lit up my face. A friend. Yup. I liked the sound of that.

Before I had a chance to say anything else, she was gone. And I turned back and wobbled indoors, the cheeks of my arse screaming, but the smile on my face said 'Stuff it. I have a new friend.'

Sunday night was always nit inspection night. My mum was like a woman possessed when it came to our six legged friends who liked to party in her kids' hair. So Sunday night was known as 'The Treatment' night. Every Sunday was the same. Bath. Clean pyjamas. And a thorough grooming, ready for school the next day. Just because we had broken up for school holidays didn't stop the de-lousing regime. Unfortunately. And let me tell you, if you have never had the 'pleasure' of Derbac … well … you've been lucky. At least it didn't set in your hair like Suleo. Anyway, mum would line us up in order of age and douse the louse with the most fouling smelling lotion ever invented. Even today I prefer dog farts. It wasn't just the lotion - it was the combing. I think the person who invented the comb must have done so with the help of a microscope and evil intention. My hair tangled easily, and having something so fine scraped through was agony. The effect was tearstained cheeks, red rimmed eyes and Christopher Lee hair - the lot of us were like a band of extras in a Hammer House Production. Over time this regime dwindled down to just Alan, Jo and me, as the others had grown and adamantly refused. And they used to sit … smugly … in the front room, when the 'infested trio' would have to stay in the dining room and were only allowed to go in the best room if we stayed away from everyone - especially out of line of draughts from the windows, which would waft the smell around the room. God help us if we sat on the furniture. We could have been hired out on Safaris - elephants would have been stunned at twenty paces. This Sunday was no different. The agony … the screaming … the pleading for mercy. And that was just my brother. He was such a boy sometimes. It was funny … in retrospect, obviously. Especially watching my mum crack the little critters between her nails when she had caught them in the comb. Word of warning - never struggle with your mother when she is de-lousing you - there is only ever one winner, and it sure isn't you. And … and this is a biggie … always be ready to run in case her cig sets your head on fire. No. That's a lie. She always made sure it never went near enough to actually catch alight, properly balancing it on top of the gas fire. But Alan …Alan was a mard-arse - always was, and most certainly still is. It still makes me smile to remember him in the throws of a rain dance, wailing to the gods, informing everyone and everything he hated them … with all his heart. He was always the main attraction on Sundays … we could have charged admittance, but we were used to it. Every week the same. Then the doorknocker went. The insurance man had dropped by for mum's contribution … and we didn't even have time to hide behind the furniture. Not that we could have got away with it, as Alan was in the midst of his jungle fever. Only now I realise my mum was embarrassed by the smell and the noise. No one else actually paid any attention to what was going on - in a household our size it was very unusual to have quiet time. All the time the insurance man was there, Alan danced. Every question the man asked my mum had to ask to be repeated because of Alan's rantings. Jo and I just sat on the floor, quietly doing Christopher Lee impressions, but inside laughing our asses off. Alan was a knob head - still is. I still believe this episode scarred my brother. Mainly because he had the lotion on longer than the thirty minutes - I don't know. All that medication soaking through his scalp, breathing in all those fumes whilst screaming must have taken its toll. Definitely the reason why he has never intellectually advanced - or maybe it's because he was always a wanker. Who knows? After the insurance man had gone, and Alan had been thoroughly dealt with, Jo and I were sent to bed to meet Donny et al. Fucking Osmonds. It was only after mum had gone back down to give Alan another pasting to stop his crying (go figure) that Jo asked me where I had got my bruises from. Her eyes held concern … and I knew she must have been worrying about this since bath time, as the bruise started at the base of my spine and curved itself around one cheek. There is no way she wouldn't have noticed it … although Angie hadn't. She was too busy trying to get us sorted so she could get up the park with her mates.

Donny was smiling at me as I turned to Jo, 'I was standing under the tree ...'

'What have I told you about climbing that tree? I'll tell mum if you go up it again.'

'I didn't fall out of it. Ash did.'

'How on earth can ash cause a bruise like that?' And I started laughing. 'It's not funny, Lou. You'll end up killing yourself or worse.' Nope. I didn't get it either … killing yourself or worse? Never mind.

'Not ash! Ash!' She looked at me like I was an idiot, 'Ashley … Ashley Richards from down the Avenue?' Still a vacant look. 'Moved in a couple of weeks ago.' Realisation broke out and I could see it take over the blank expression from earlier.

It was short lived.

'What do you mean Ash fell out of the tree?'

I loved my sister, but sometimes she was too overprotective. It was a full twenty minutes later before she was satisfied I had not been ambushed. As I snuggled into bed, the big dilapidated double I shared with both Jo an Angie, I smiled to myself.

'I've got a friend.' Then silently wished Donny goodnight.

And I couldn't wait to see what the next day would bring.

It wasn't long before we were firm friends, although Ash was Jo's age. As for Jo … well … she wasn't too pleased my affections for her had been split. But being her, she took it on the chin and allowed me some semblance of freedom. Days were spent in childish adventure. Ash was so much fun, although she barely said a word to anybody else. Mum nicknamed her my 'shadow', as she was always standing quietly behind me whenever she was in the company of any of my family. Now, my family were friendly, don't get me wrong. They were just … big. There were loads of us. The only person Ash hadn't met was my dad. And come to think of it, I hadn't seen him myself for quite a while. He was a long distance lorry driver and spent a lot of time on the road; the time not on the road was spent in the pub. I remember when I was about four, my mum had got me up in the middle of the night, or so it seemed, to introduce me to him. Years later I realised they had been in the middle of an argument. To put it mildly, my father was a tosser. He didn't give two shits about his family. All he cared about was himself and the pub. I can still remember him sat there in the front room, sunglasses on (at night time) listening to Dean Martin's Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime, and singing really badly. Mum had ushered both Jo and me into the room and it was like the rabbit incident all over again. Who was this man sat in the chair singing whilst wearing sunglasses? Even to this day I read people's eyes - I don't trust people if I can't see their eyes. I learned that the hard way. It was only because Jo seemed to know him that I let down my guard. I wish I hadn't bothered. Enough about him for now … you'll hear more about that tosser later.

Ash. I wanted to skip every time I thought of her. She was a lot taller than me even though she was nearly eight (well … seven and three quarters- eight in October) - but she appeared bigger. Black hair cascaded down her back; her face was slightly tanned through all the outdoor activities we shared. But the most striking thing about her was her eyes. Blue, a light blue, a twinkling blue that captured the sun's rays and made them dance. It wasn't long before she became the centre of my world. Everything I did I wanted her to be a part of it. Everything I saw I wanted her to see. We were inseparable. It was fantastic.

Jo backed off from me and spent more time with Tina, telling me I was always welcome to hang about with her anytime. I don't know why, but she didn't really take to Ash … but at the time I didn't give it much thought.

Summer days were spent in play … in adventure. Things I had done a thousand times on my own seemed to take on a different meaning when I did them with Ash. She even showed me how to climb that damned tree properly, although I still had the memory of her plunging down from quite a height.
I trusted her. Completely. I fit quite nicely into her family too. She had two brothers, Stephen and Anthony, one older, one younger. Her dad used to torment her, saying it was an Ashley sandwich. I could tell she was their pride and joy. It was strange to watch her family together. Her parents were so interested in what they all were doing, taking time to chat to them, ask how their day had been. Her mother was a full time mum, always there for them. Her father was a policeman, and he made my brothers nervous - especially Sniffer's girlfriend. It made me reflect, in my childish way, about my own parents. I loved my mum so much … she tried as hard as she could to provide for us, considering my dad was AWOL most of the time. Now I'm an adult I fully realise what she had to go through. Eight children and barely two pennies to rub together. No wonder she had to work at a night club to earn enough to clothe and feed us. A man can't support both the pub and his family, and my father preferred to support the local brewery. Ash's family semi-adopted me. I spent most of my free time there, reading her books - especially loving it when she read to me. This treat sometimes followed us up the tree where we would sit, hidden from view and she would read to me. I had to be careful I didn't relax too much and fall backwards … again. Ash, her two brothers and me used to perform Abba's Waterloo in her bedroom. I don't think Stephen and Anthony really wanted to be Benny and Bjorn - but they didn't really have a say in the matter. Ash could be quite forceful when the mood took her. We practised for days trying to get the moves right, turning our heads at just the right moment. I still haven't got the hang of coordination, but that's beside the point. When we thought we had perfected it, we put the single on the small box record player and performed our masterpiece to her parents. I followed her every move … like usual … and shrilled out 'My my … At Wa-ter-loo Na-po-le-on did sur-render …yeh yeh …' The applause from her parents was deafening … nearly as bad as our singing. I felt on top of the world. Again. I should have sung the Carpenters. One of my favourite memories was the day we went to Concroft Park. It was the day I realised Ash was everything I would ever want or need in my life. It was quite a walk from our house, and we were toting carrier bags full of sandwiches and pop to eat on our day out. Inside the bags were also two books, Ash's jumper, an old blanket and a ball. It was going to be a good day. And it was. The very first thing we did was feed the ducks. We stood there, side by side, looking for all the world like a pair of ragamuffins, not speaking in our task but fully content just … to just … be. I think we gave them nearly all our sandwiches but we didn't care. Swings, slides, roundabouts and reading. In that order. Then, we did it all again, but this time we had a game of catch before we lay back on the grass and just read. I didn't know how long I had been asleep, I suddenly felt the splodge of rain hit my skin like an ice cube. And again … and again … until it was constant. I felt Ash looming above me, her shadow blocking my view, her body sheltering me from the downpour.

'Lou … come on, Lou. We need to go.' Her voice seemed echoey, distant. The chill from the rain made me shiver. I had only a t-shirt and shorts on and I was freezing. I could see Ash shaking with cold too. Her hand was trembling as it reached down to me, rivulets of water running down the bare flesh.

'We need to get back.' I grabbed her hand and with one deft movement she pulled me to my feet. 'Here.' A jumper was shoved in my direction. My eyes looked into blue, which were clouded with worry. 'Put it on … you'll catch your death …'

'But …'

'But nothing. Put it on … no arguments.' I watched her as I pulled the jumper over my head, missing the sight of her as the thick red material fell over my eyes. The jumper was barely on my skin before she grabbed my hand and began to pull me along.

Rain lashed against us as we struggled against the downpour. There was no point looking for shelter, as the rain looked as if it would be with us for quite a while. Ash had the blanket and books (the ball long forgotten) shoved under her arm, her other arm occupied with pulling me along, my short legs struggling to keep up.

We had gone a little way before she pulled me under the bus shelter just outside the park. 'We can't get the bus, Ash, we haven't any money.'

'Shhuuusssshh. We're not getting the bus … here … hold these.' She thrust the books into my hands and started fluffing out the blanket. Her face was filled with concentration as she struggled with the chequered cloth, her black hair sticking to the side of her face. I was freezing, and by the looks of her shaking body, so was Ash.

'Come here.' Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper. But I went without question. 'I'm going to try a stop us getting completely soaked.' I looked up at her, forever in awe of my older friend. She made me feel so protected. I knew she would take care of me whatever happened. 'I'm going to hold the blanket over us. Here … put your arm round my waist and hold on.'

As soon as I slipped my arm around her, which was quite an effort because of our height difference; we were off, the slick and slippery pavement almost a blur. Ash was determined we wouldn't get any more wet than we already were. The books I held were becoming soggy and heavy, and my grip tightened about them with grim determination. I wanted to keep my part of the bargain. It seemed like forever. The rain really held us back, but I didn't feel frightened or worried. The presence of Ash calmed me. The feeling of her guiding me both with her body and the top of her arm made me feel secure … and, strangely enough, happy. When we got outside her house I fully expected her to dash in and send me on my way, but no, she insisted she saw me to my front door, with a mumbled 'That's what friends are for.' Secretly, I was pleased.

The front door loomed ahead of us, and I could feel her slowing down. It wasn't until we reached the gate that she stopped. 'Go on … you get in.' Impulsively, I threw my arms around her neck and planted a kiss on her cheek. I think I surprised her because she dropped the blanket to her shoulders and looked me squarely in the face. 'What was that for?' Her voice was quiet, but I heard every word as if it has been shouted.

'For taking care of me.'

'Don't be daft.' But I could see she felt pleased with my words. 'Go on … get gone.' And she planted a little kiss on my forehead, before she gave me a gentle shove.

I raced towards the door and hammered the knocker, turning to face Ash whilst I waited for someone to let me in. The image of her standing there will forever be etched into my mind. Rain pummelled down on her, but she just stood there, staring right back at me. Her hair was a tangled mess of wetness, clinging to the side of her face, her fringe dripping water into her eyes. The pale cream t-shirt was like a second skin, transparent and heavy. Rivulets of water raced down her legs and collected at the tops of her ankle socks. Splodges of dirt coated her calves and knees, but they were beginning to become washed away.

'Bloody hell, Lou! You're pissed wet through!' Mum's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to face her. 'Get in and get those clothes off before you catch your death.'

Ash's jumper! I still had it on. I turned to speak to her but she was on her way out the gate, the blanket covering her shoulders. 'Ash!' She stopped, and turned towards me, a question in her eyes. 'Your jumper!'

'Keep it … I'll get it later.' Her face broke out into a dazzling smile and I forgot about the rain, forgot about the jumper, forgot how cold I was. That smile lit up everything and made me feel warm inside.

'Come on, Lou … in!'

'Laters, Ash.'

'Laters.' And she was gone. Racing through puddles, water splashing up her legs, the blanket billowing out as only soaked blankets could do.

But there wasn't going to be any 'Laters'. 'Laters' had to wait for another ten years. My father made sure of that. Bastard.

After a hot bath, shared with Jo of course, it was tea and an early night. I felt so happy going to sleep, but the happiness didn't last long. Voices woke me. Not gentle voices … by any stretch of the imagination. These voices were raised in argument, words spewing forth that no child should ever hear.
It was my parents. Funny thing is, even though my mum and dad didn't get along as well as other parents, they rarely argued. So, this was a surprise to say the least. Honestly speaking though, surprise was the last emotion I was feeling at the time. Fear was top of the list.

'You all right, Lou?' Jo's voice filtered through the darkness, a small hand came and landed on the top of my arm, stroking up and down.

The shouting was getting closer, the anger more evident. I could feel the tears welling up and slipping from my eyes. I began to shake - couldn't stop it - I was scared and confused. I could hear Jo trying to comfort me, but I could hear the fear in her voice also. This must be bad if she was scared. Raised voices were right outside our door now, the words clear to everyone. We were leaving. Tonight. Mum had obviously found out about all the affairs my father had been having, and the child his girlfriend from Scotland was carrying. Only later did I understand the full concept of these revelations. Only later did I overhear my mum telling one of her sisters of a letter she had found, addressed to her, in his work bag. A letter from a seventeen year old girl who was three and a half months pregnant. Only later did I fully understand this man was a total wanker, although I'd always had my suspicions. Even Donny didn't seem to be laughing now. Light blinded me as the door flew back and my mum came into the room with a roll of black bags.

'Come on girls. Get yourselves up. We're going on a trip.' She tried to keep her voice cheerful, but we knew this trip wasn't to Butlins. 'Here…' She passed us a couple of bags she had torn off, 'pack as many clothes as you can into these … Angie's too.'

'Over my dead body!' My father bellowed.

'It can be arranged.' Her voice was a growl, and even my father slunk back, knowing that she would rip his head off if he as much as made a move in our direction.

Not that he would have put himself on the line like that. He was neither brave, nor did he give a damn. His kids and family meant nothing to him. He had proved that with his inability to give two shits about anyone but himself.

My body was shaking. My small hands were grabbing everything and anything, randomly shoving clothes haphazardly. Jo was crouched next to me, tears trickling down her face as she slowly placed each item carefully into the sack. My world was falling apart … falling apart … falling apart. Each refrain mimicked the action of my hands, as they silently packed the few belongings we owned into shiny black plastic. Every muscle seemed to vibrate through me … panic and fear vying for dominance … Until it struck me … Ash. When could I see Ash? Could I say goodbye to her? I didn't want to say goodbye … a noise danced in my throat … a wail waiting to be released into the silent room. I didn't want to leave Ash … she was my friend … I didn't want to leave. Tremors shook through me, the wail winning out, the tears flowing freely now. I brought my hand to my face to smear the tears across my cheeks, my nose bunging up, breathing becoming difficult.

'Come on sweetheart. It'll be all right.' Mum was crouching next to me, trying to get me to calm down, her loving hands on my shoulders, quickly rubbing the knotted muscles. 'We'll still be together …'

Instead of calming me, this thought just made me cry even harder. Loving hands slipped underneath my armpits and I felt myself being lifted into the familiar scent of my mum. 'Shush there, sweetheart … I've got you.'

It was ages before she let me go. She rocked me back and forth, stroking up and down my spine. Jo stood silently next to us both, her hand tangling through my hair. That's just like my sister. She must have been feeling just as scared as me, but she still rose above it and worried about me first. That is why I love her as much as I do. An hour later saw us in the back of a black cab. Mum, Angie, Alan, Jo and me … five bin bags and not much else. We looked a sorry sight. The rest of the lads decided to stay with their father - their father, as he was no longer mine … and I doubt he ever was - although biologically I could never escape that fact. I can still remember the taxi driver reversing into Ash's road, and my eyes staring up to the dark window of her room. I wanted to wake her up … tell her that whatever happened she was still my friend and I loved her. But as the taxi pulled away, I felt a part of me stay there in Levenshulme. I just hoped that Ash would find it and know I didn't want to go … didn't want to leave her. I had to take some comfort from the knowledge that no matter how long it took … I would find her again. That was a promise.

http://www.xenafiction.net/scrolls/fing ... ings1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 03 lis 2012 22:10

pjevačka zvijezda s mračnom prošlošću....medicinska sestra koja radi povremeno kao klaun

Twilight
by Kim Pritekel

Willow turned up the volume on her stereo, continuing to fold laundry as she listened to the impassioned lyrics of 'Swan Song,' the latest release by Christine Gray. The song was much slower than most of Gray's strong, alternative style. This one was just a piano, a cello in the background, and Christine's strong, but velvety voice. Pair of unfolded socks still in hand, the blonde sat on the edge of the couch, closing her eyes as she listened to the words. Such sadness, emptiness. The song was filled with a longing for love and acceptance. It talked about how the world expected the singer's very soul, yet gave nothing return, as money, after all, can't buy happiness. Willow was surprised to find that she had tears streaming down her cheeks, images of that night, more than a month ago, flashing before her mind's eye. She had been a nurse in the children's ward for six years, and had experienced babies dying in her arms, but nothing she had seen before could prepare her for the profound way she would be affected by the soul shattering sadness she had seen in that woman's blue eyes. The loneliness and desperation. That was why she had stayed with her to the end, as long as she was allowed, She wanted Christine to know that she wasn't alone, she had someone there who cared and would hold her hand through her pain. After her meeting with Robert Knowels she had headed out to her truck, tucking the check into the glove compartment, not wanting to chance it getting ruined in her saturated pockets. Shivering and soul tired, that's what the nurses called it at the hospital when one of them had been so drastically affected by something at work, she had headed to the female employee locker room. Glad to find a pair of scrubs in the her locker that weren't too smelly, she'd hurried into the shower room, stripping out of her pasted on clothing and had stepped under the warm, calming spray. She felt her skin warming, but her heart was still like ice. She kept seeing Christine's face as she lay there on the banks, so vulnerable, death hovering in the air. She couldn't reconcile in her own mind the face of the woman she'd seen that night with the woman she'd seen on television and on CD and magazine covers. What had caused someone like that, the world at her feet, money and fame in abundance, to do something so drastic? She wondered if the toxicology reports would tell them anything. The look in the woman's eyes had been dazed and fuzzy, eyes very dilated, which the near-drowning could only partially explain. She had a hunch there was more to it. Willow stepped out of the small stall, pushing the curtain aside. Grabbing a towel, she quickly dried herself and slipped into the scrubs. She had no shoes and eyed the big red ones. Opting to not look like Patch Adams, she stuck some surgical booties on her feet, and headed out to get some information. The air in the ER was cool and sterilized, as every ER that Willow had been in or worked at, was. She saw Dr. Samms making some notes on a chart and hurried over to him.

"How is she, Brad?"

The large man looked down at the nurse, seeing the worry in her beautiful green eyes. If only she weren't married. He closed the chart, tucking it into a plastic chart box mounted to the wall above the nurses station.

"She's okay. Nothing major sustained though her blood stream was having one hell of a party in there." He sighed, crossed muscular arms over a broad chest. He and Willow often worked out together in the hospital's gym. It was a great way to stay in shape and ease the tensions of their respective jobs.

Willow nodded, biting her lip. "I was afraid of that. Can I see her?"

"Sure. She's in three resting."

"Thanks, bud." Squeezing his bicep, she hurried down the hall that would lead her past the other cubicles, some with closed curtain, some empty and ready to be used. At three, the curtain was pulled, the beeping of machinery behind it could be heard.

Gently pushing the curtain aside, she slipped around it, looking around the dim space. The lights above Christine's gurney had been turned off, only a circle of light breaching around the top of the curtain. Red, green and blue lights shone in the dim. Willow's eyes quickly adjusted, and she focused on the form tucked under a thin, white blanket, arms out, a hospital band wrapped around one wrist, an IV taped to the back of her hand. The blonde looked down at the closed eyes, long, dark lashes, face at peace in slumber. She studied the face, high, sharp cheekbones, and a prominent jaw. The skin was very pale, blue veins visible from beneath the skin. Christine's hair looked so dark, black, against the paleness of the skin and the white bedding beneath her. A few wisps rested against the singer's face. Gently, Willow tucked the strands back behind an ear. Reaching behind her, the blonde found the chair she knew was there, and scooted it forward until she was able to sit. Taking Christine's hand within her own, she felt the warm skin, relieved beyond belief that it was in fact warm, and not the cold, stiff skin it had been at the river. Sighing softly, Willow lowered her head, her exhaustion reaching her eyes, making the heavy and burn.

Christine could sense someone was with her, then as the haze lessoned, she realized that the someone was holding her hand. Eyes slowly fluttering open, she turned, her head pounding, making her close her eyes for a moment before opening them to focus on the figured slouched over in a chair next to her bed. Short blonde hair, light blue scrubs. Who was this? A nurse from the ER? A doctor, maybe? Her gaze fell to their joined hands, the hand in her own tanned against her own pale skin, the nails trimmed neatly, well taken care of. A small hand, no, petit. Looked like all of her was petite- narrow shoulders and fine features. The face. Christine concentrated on the face, much of it hidden by the angle in which the woman slouched. Dark blonde brows, a slight crease between the closed eyes. The woman looked as though even in slumber she was worrying something. A very gentle face, lips lightly brushing against one another, the blonde hair slightly covering the tops of small ears. As she drifted off to sleep again, she wondered who her visitor was.

Willow woke with a start, eyes popping open to see Rachel smiling down at her. Realty coming back to the blonde, she sat up, looking around. Her gaze moved to the woman in the bed, realizing their hands were still linked. She was, however, surprised to see that the position of their hands had changed, Christine's fingers curled around her own.

Rachel said nothing, turning away to give her friend some privacy. She knew how compassionate Willow was, all too often taking the pain and fear of her patients onto her own shoulders. It always worried the ER nurse. Willow was one of the best nurses at Mercy, and she didn't want to see the young blonde burn out, especially with how stressful their job could be.

Willow gently pulled her hand free of the brunette's, laying the larger hand on the bed beside the other woman. Pulling the sheet up to tuck her in, Willow turned to her friend, nodding toward the partially open curtain.

Once out of the cubicle, she led her friend away so they could talk without disturbing Christine.

"You should go home, Willow. It's late and Kevin's going to be worried."

"Oh, crap," The blonde ran a hand through her hair, her eyes even more heavy than before. "I need to get home. Call me if anything changes, okay?" she asked her friend, who nodded and patted her shoulder.

"I will. No get to bed."

The drive home was long, and as Willow drove across the Dittman Bridge, she felt a shiver pass through her, green eyes automatically were drawn to the spot where Christine had jumped, and a wave of sadness washed over her. Taking several deep breaths, she forced her eyes straight ahead, driving the last ten miles to her ranch.

"Mmm, must have been some part," Kevin rolled over, pulling his wife against his naked body, still half asleep.

"Had an emergency at the hospital," Willow murmured, settling her tired body against the soft mattress.

"Everything okay?" Willow's husband sounded a bit more awake, though his eyes were still closed.

"Mm hmm. Talk tomorrow," the blonde slurred, already asleep. It had been a long day.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=512 ... ight1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 04 lis 2012 20:56

nova ravnateljica škole....program za pomoć učenicima

~ Taught by Love ~
by Zoe

Noelle ran down the hall and crashed through the door of the conference room.

"Sorry," she said, just slightly out of breath.

"Potter, do you think you'll ever be on time for anything?" Tony said with a shake of his head as Noelle dropped her clipboard on the table and sat down.

"Let me think." She put her head in her hands for a second. "Ummm… no." She looked at the rest of the team members with a twinkle in her eye.

She's gorgeous, Molly thought. Wonder why I didn't notice that before.

The room was small, just large enough to hold a long table, ten chairs, and a smaller side table. Its one redeeming quality was that it had a window that looked out over the soccer field. Taking in the assembled members, Noelle was suddenly all business. "Okay, then, let's get started. Tony, do you have anything for us?"

Tony stood and handed each person a packet of papers. "Just these. If you'll read this, we can discuss it in-depth tomorrow. They give some background on SAP, and some ideas on how to use it. We'll be tailoring our team to our school, but it gives some good guidelines. Well, I'd love to stay, but right now I have to meet with the social studies department. They've got "issues"," Tony finished, rolling his eyes.

"You mean they're bitching about something."

Tony laughed. "That about sums it up. Just don't let them hear you say that. Well, if that's it, I'll see you tomorrow." And he left the room.

After he left, all eyes turned to Noelle. "Okay. Let's get moving." Noelle picked up the stack of papers Tony put in front of her. "I suppose we should start by reading this."

"Jesus, do we have to?" Mike Nesbitt, one of the science teachers, asked as he absently turned some pages.

Instead of answering, Noelle quickly flipped through the papers. Then she tossed them on the table. She ran her hand through her hair, making it stand on end in some places.

"Let's scrap this garbage. I'd rather we start with some ideas or opinions about last year, and maybe why we need a program like this one." Noelle took the pencil from behind her ear and pulled her clipboard closer."Any thoughts?"

Carl Rahn, one of the school's 3 phys ed teachers, spoke up quietly. "I was really worried at the end of last year. Shit, so much was happening in the rest of the country, and our kids were getting nutty… I was never so glad to see summer vacation as I was last year."

Noelle smiled a bit. "I know, Carl. That last day, I was just relieved that it was over." The group was silent, lost in their own thoughts.

Molly cleared her throat, causing the other team members to look at her. "Sorry to interrupt these internal musings, but I think we have a job to do."

Noelle looked at the new dean intently. "I suppose you're right." She wrote something on her paper. "Let's hear some ideas, then, on the team. First, on whom will we be focusing? A specific group? The general population? The poorer students? Who?"

The meeting continued with the members discussing the various aspects of the purpose of the team. Molly kept quietfor most of the meeting, only occasionally offering a soft suggestion. While she meant them as suggestions, Noelle was taking them as criticisms on the school and how it was run.

Finally, after another perceived insult, Noelle exploded. "You don't know these kids, Ms. Cartwright. You don't know what it's like to live and work with a fear that's inside of you constantly! Is today going to be the day? Will I die today? My God! These kids have to worry about dying, and we want to try to teach them geometry and history? You have NO idea, Ms. Cartwright! And until you do, I'm suggesting that you keep your comments to yourself."

Having said that, Noelle stood, picked up her clipboard, and walked to the door. "Let's take a half hour." Then she left the room, walking quickly to her classroom to drop off her things. She left the room to walk the halls. After setting a rapid pace for herself, she was soon lost in the walking and thinking.

Who does she think she is? Jesus Christ, she's never even worked in a school, has she? What was she thinking? Noelle shook her head at the thoughts. "What in hell are we going to do?" she wondered aloud. She sighed. "What CAN we do?"

"There's plenty we can, and will do, Ms. Potter," a low voice said behind her. Noelle didn't stop walking, but looked over her shoulder at Molly, not saying anything to her.

Molly settled into step beside Noelle, easily matching her longer strides to Noelle's shorter ones. They walked in silence for some time, then Molly spoke up. "I can help if you trust me."

Noelle interrupted her with a snort. "Trust you? Hell, Ms. Cartwright, I don't even know you. Why should I trust you? And why didn't you tell me who you were yesterday?" she asked softly, more to herself than to Molly. "Anyway," she continued louder, "the kids need to trust you, not me. You're here for them, to protect them and help us keep all of them safe. You have to make THEM trust you, Ms. Cartwright. They won't give that trust freely, not at all. You'll have to earn it," Noelle said seriously.

Neither will you give it freely. Why? Molly thought to herself. Then to Noelle she said quietly, "I know that. And that's what I intend to do. I will earn their trust." She paused. "Look, Noelle," Molly said, dropping the formality of last names. "I may not have worked in the education field before, but I know what I'm doing. And I didn't have the opportunity to tell you yesterday who I was."

"Well, we'll see, I suppose." They were back at Noelle's classroom. The two women stopped walking. Before Noelle could go into her room, Molly spoke.

"Will we finish the meeting?"

"Of course. In another 10 or so. I'll be there in a bit." Noelle walked into her room, effectively ending the conversation.

She's not going to make it easy for me, Molly thought as she walked away. The team finished the meeting later that afternoon as promised. Having made some headway, Noelle was satisfied with how it went. She was the last one to leave the conference room, and she walked slowly to her classroom. When she entered, she yelped in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked her visitor bluntly as she walked over to her desk.

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Noelle asked as she began to straighten her desk.

"I shouldn't have said those things back in the meeting. Or at the very least, I should have explained myself better," Molly replied. "I had no bus-"

"Stop." Noelle held up a hand. "Don't go any farther." She paused and looked out the windows. "Look, Ms. Cartwright…"

"Molly."

Noelle continued as if Molly hadn't interrupted her. "These kids, they're important. Hell, they are the reason we're here. Tony, me, the other teachers. We're all here because of them."

Noelle turned to look at Molly, her green eyes boring into Molly's bright blue. "And you. You need to be here for them, as well. You need to know that they are the reason for your job, for my job. For the team." She paused again, looking once more out the window. When she continued it was in a softer, more earnest voice. "We need to help them, Ms. Cartwright. They need us to help them."

Molly studied Noelle as she spoke. She could feel Noelle's intensity, her LOVE for the job. Or maybe it was for the kids.

"You really love your job, don't you?" Molly asked softly.

Noelle looked up, startled by the question. "Ummm, yeah. I do. Very much, in fact."

Wanting to keep the conversation going, Molly leaned back against a desk and asked another question. "Did you always want to be a teacher?"

Noelle smiled softly, looking down at her hands as she spoke. "Kind of, yeah. I've wanted to be at teacher since fourth grade. I wasn't sure what I wanted to teach exactly until high school. Then… well, I knew. That's all." She looked up at Molly, feeling compelled for some reason to trust her enough to ask a question of her own. "What did you do before you were hired here?"

It was Molly's turn to smile, however, hers was neither soft nor did it reach her eyes. "I was a "consultant" for a security firm in Pittsburgh."

"Oh. Why here? Why in education? I mean, you must have taken a serious pay cut. And there's not a whole lot to do around here."

"Would you believe that I'm a boring kind of gal?" Molly asked seriously.

Noelle snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Schyeah, right! Like I'd believe that, " she answered sarcastically. "I imagine you're lots of things, Ms. Cartwright, but boring surely isn't one of them. And neither is a sailor," Noelle teased softly.

The look in Molly's eyes changed suddenly. Quickly, it moved from warm to hot. Amusement to something darker, something deeper. Noelle's mouth went dry, and her heart beat faster at Molly's next words.

In a low, dangerous rumble, she said, "You have no idea…," letting the words hang.

They looked at each other intently for many long moments, the tension building between them. Finally Noelle drew in a deep breath, breaking the contact with Molly. She turned away, shaking her head and mumbling to herself. Because Molly didn't hear her, she asked Noelle to repeat what she said.

"I said it doesn't fit," Noelle repeated louder.

Molly looked confused. "What doesn't fit? What are you talking about?"

"Your name. It sure as hell doesn't fit." Noelle answered seriously. "I would have thought… Well, never mind."

"No. Tell me. What do you think my name should have been?" Molly prodded.

"Ummm, well… actually I was thinking that Eve or… or Nikita would suit you better, " Noelle said quickly.

Looking closer at Noelle, Molly could see the merriment dancing in her green eyes. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Nikita?"

Noelle struggled to hold on to her composure. "Umm, yeah."

The eyebrow raised higher. "As in "La Femme Nikita"?"

The question was asked with such seriousness, such horror that Noelle lost that composure she tried desperately to hold. She began to laugh loudly. And the more she laughed, the higher Molly's eyebrow went, which caused her to laugh harder, which caused the eyebrow to…

"Stop," Noelle gasped. "Oh God…you…have to…stop…" Her hand came up to cover her mouth, trying to hold the laughter inside.

She almost had herself back under control when Molly started to shake with laughter. Again Noelle was overcome, and she laughed until the tears ran freely. Molly recovered first. She caught her breath and watched Noelle. She's something else…so beautiful. Noelle's eyes were bright with laughter, her short hair was in terrible disarray, and her cheeks were shiny and wet from the laugh-tears. She certainly wasn't looking her best, yet Molly felt drawn to her. Noelle chose that moment to look up at Molly, only to stop laughing abruptly when she saw the look in her eyes. Her breath-taking blue eyes twinkled with delight. Yet underneath that, Noelle thought she detected something else.

Noelle swallowed. My God. She can't…no, no way. Her tongue darted out to moisten suddenly dry lips. "I, ummm… I need to go now," Noelle said softly, her eyes never leaving Molly's.

When Molly saw Noelle's tongue peek out of that beautiful mouth and lick those full pink lips, a wave of desire shot through her unlike any she'd ever known. She groaned silently, wanting desperately to taste that tongue with her own. The desire to take Noelle into her arms and kiss her was almost overwhelming. Molly clenched her hands into fists to stop herself. Noelle saw Molly's hands ball into fists, and mistook that for anger. She turned from Molly and began to stuff things hurriedly into her briefcase. She had a sudden desire to get as far away from Molly as she could.

"I…it's late. I need to be somewhere," she mumbled.

Molly stepped closer, into Noelle's space. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" she said in a low, husky voice.

She watched in amazement as Noelle's whole demeanor changed. Gone was the easy camaraderie in which the two women had just spent the last 7 or 8 minutes. It was replaced with an attitude that surprised Molly.

Noelle stepped back. Her eyes sparked with anger, and her voice hardened. "Afraid of you? Are you serious? You have some ego, Ms. Cartwright, some ego. If you're looking to intimidate me, you're barking up the wrong tree. It'll take a whole lot more than you to scare me. Now step off," she snarled.

Not heeding the warning, Molly stepped closer. She spoke, again very softly. "Intimidate you? No." Then she smiled. "Intimidation is definitely not my style. Not at all," she said seductively, her eyes boring into Noelle's angry green ones.

Suddenly Noelle spun around, shouldered her briefcase, and strode angrily out of the classroom. Molly turned to watch her go, noting the tension radiating from the smaller woman. Shaking her head, Molly slowly followed after her. I think I just experienced Noelle. Oh boy. This is going to be fun, Molly thought with a small smile as she walked slowly down the hall.

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I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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