Writing Challenge 2011

Contained in this ebook are the entries we received for the Cocktail Hour Writing Challenge. The rules were simple: the word count will be between 10,000 and 30,000, the entries will be beta read, and they will contain the phrases ”cocktail hour” and ”bearded clam.” The rest was completely up to the authors.

With the help of four wonderful judges, we are able to present this book with the stories listed by place, first place being first in the table of contents. But that’s not all! Our friend, Another Author, graciously allowed us to share a non-judged story. Pretty sweet, right?

Andy and I are both thankful to the authors for sending in their work, and to our judges, Gloria, Pixie, Rebecca, and Megan, for donating their time and giving us their opinions of these stories. We couldn’t have done any of this without you and we thank you all very much!

So, go on! Get reading!

Rev

Table of Contents

1.	The Unashamedly Redheaded Blues by Ursula Kincaid (aka the Fallen)

2.	Class of ’88 by Norsebard

3.	Culture Crash: The Bard and the Biker by Norsebard

4.	Rani by Kim Phoenix

5.	Bonus Story: Paths Less Travelled by Another Author

THE UNASHAMEDLY REDHEADED BLUES

An original story
by Ursula Kincaid [aka the Fallen]
[e-mail ukfallenangel2@yahoo.com]

DISCLAIMER: This story is intended for mature readers only. There are no scenes of an explicit sexual nature, no graphic depictions of violence, and only a little foul language. However, it does feature a budding relationship between two adult and consenting women, so if that kind of thing bothers you… well, go away and quit bothering me. Jeez. Anyway, the following story is © 2011 and is written purely for entertainment purposes. It cannot be reproduced in any shape or form without the author's prior consent. And of course no true styles of music were hurt, compromised, mocked, hummed along to, sung along just a fraction off-key to, or even badly composed during the production of this story… well, maybe a little.

	

When you got right down to it, fate was nothing more than a bully. That thought had occurred to Danielle as she trudged down the sidewalk, her sodden clothes dripping and each squelching footstep leaving a path behind her.

The thought irked her, a little like spending day after day on an overly complicated jigsaw puzzle, only, upon completion, to find there was one piece missing right from the very centre. Danielle had no problem understanding bullies who had motives or an objective, no matter how stupid or pointless she thought those motives were. She had encountered enough of them throughout her life, after all. She seemed to attract them like flies to honey and that experience had taught her more about bullies than her few psych classes ever had. Envy, resentment, domination, low self-esteem, shame, depression… she had heard it all and forgiven none of it.

Annoyingly, however, fate had recently been pushing her along without any discernable motive. She didn’t like it. But it wasn’t as if she could do much about it, she supposed. Again, she’d long since learned all the tricks in dealing with bullies and none of them would help her now.
Stand up to them, that was what parents and teachers would advise at first. ‘A bully is just a coward’ is something Danielle had been told more than once, although she personally believed that to be one of the worst lies a parent could ever tell a child, outside of the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus. The whole reason bullies were bullies in the first place was because they were anything but cowards. You didn’t get to become a bully without taking a few knocks yourself, after all.

The lie didn’t matter in the end. If you were stupid enough to fight back you either didn’t hurt the bully, in which case it was pointless, or you hurt them really bad. Either way, they usually came back and hurt you much worse the next day. Sometimes Danielle felt as if her whole life had been one big fight, and one she was probably losing on a technicality.

That was still true for her today, Danielle thought. Twenty years old, halfway towards getting her college degree, and somehow she was still dealing with this crap. Sure, she no longer had to fear physical violence, that hadn’t happened since the early days of high school, but plenty of mental and verbal abuse still got thrown her way on a daily basis. 

She did her best to avoid trouble, now as always. That was something that actually worked, at least in the short term; she had learned that very early on. There were routes to school through the neighborhood to steer clear of said bullies. Crowds you could hang around with, never truly belonging but blending just enough into the group so as to avoid unwelcome attention. There were clothes you could wear, fashions to follow, trends to keep to – not so closely that you set them, but closely enough to make it appear you were just copying everyone else. And most important of all - never show folks how you honestly feel.

But, annoyingly, you just couldn’t do any of that with fate. It seemed to Danielle that if fate was indeed set on being a spiteful bully then you couldn’t ignore it, you couldn’t fight it, you couldn’t try to avoid its attention, and you certainly couldn’t try to reason with it. Worse still, fate always knew where to find you and how to hurt you the most.

She shivered. Her wet clothes stuck fast to her, feeling like thick frost scraping against her dark skin. What an absolutely shitty night. Humiliated, soaked to the bone, and stranded in the middle of God-knows-where. She wanted the sunshine to hurry on down, for this day to be finally over. It had been one hell of a stormy Monday, but she guessed Tuesday would be just as bad.

Her grandmama, rest her soul, would have frowned on Danielle’s revelation, although in her own way she too had been something of a bully. The old woman had believed strongly in àyànmo, the fate we all hold within ourselves and shape as we move through life. But grandmama, Danielle thought, had been strong-willed enough to bend fate to suit her own purposes and thought everyone else should do the same. If grandmama had ever realized that Danielle had always believed destiny was intent on royally screwing her, she would have raised merry hell.

Danielle’s mother had once said grandmama been displeased enough when the family had adopted a Western name in an effort to blend into their adopted homeland a little more. Turning their backs on their Yoruba heritage, so grandmama had said. She’d blamed her son-in-law and had promptly not spoken a word to anyone in the family until Danielle had been born. And then the whole stupid row had erupted yet again right before the baptizing. Up until the day she had died, her grandmama had refused to call her Danielle, instead referring to her as Akanbi, a slight that her parents had always deigned to acknowledge.

A dog howled in the distance. It could have been a wolf for all she knew. Sure sounded like one. The dog was probably cooped up somewhere and just wanted the chance to be free. It sure sounded like it was spoiling for a fight. She knew how it felt.

She had passed a rundown Burger King a little ways back but the place had been firmly closed. She’d even gone so far as to bang on the door, hoping to use their phone, but had no luck. Only the outside sign was still lit and that was faulty, with only the ‘B’ of the word ‘Burger’ still illuminated and even that kept sputtering on and off. Her watch had stopped working when it got wet so she could only guess it was at least an hour past a very dreary midnight.

So instead Danielle had continued walking down the levy, with her head hanging low. She didn’t know where she was going but if she kept moving at least she’d keep somewhat warm. She’d walked so far she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d worn a hole in her last pair of shoes. She stepped over a pool of muddy water and then saw a four-way intersection up ahead. And on the corner of the crossroads there was a bus-shelter.

Danielle sighed with relief when she finally saw the bus stop, her breath fogging the chilly air. Odd how such a small shelter could muster so much hope. If she could just find out where she was, then she would have some idea of how to get home. And who knows? She might even be able to catch the next bus going in the right direction. She had a little cash left in her pockets, enough for a short trip at least.

There was a malfunctioning streetlight behind the bus-stop. The flickering, stale yellow light did little to impress. It was only when the grey clouds shifted and the light of the moon going down dispelled some of the starkest shadows that, with a start, Danielle realized the shelter was already occupied.
 
A figure sat hunched at one end of the plastic bench, head bowed, hands plunged deep into the pockets of a dark red sweatshirt. The hood was pulled up but she could see a little dark hair falling forward, further hiding the face from view. It took Danielle a second or two to realize there was something odd about the shape of the stranger’s head, something oddly familiar but unnerving at the same time. Was it the crumpled fabric of the hood or just shadows playing tricks on her eyes? What the hell was it? She could swear it looked like horns. She felt her heart begin to pound.

Danielle paused, hesitating over whether or not to continue on her way. But she didn’t know the area at all and so had no idea where the next bus stop would be or how far. She didn’t want to keep walking, and she really needed a rest. But at the same time she just wanted to get home. That was all. Home, a hot bath, and a dry bed. She’d have to risk it. She was so tired of being afraid, tired of the life she lead. Suddenly overcome by a wave of determination, Danielle stepped forward, trying to kick away the fears she knew.

A willow tree stood on the grassy verge beside the bus-shelter. As she passed it the wind rose briefly, causing the leaves to tremble and the branches to shake, rattling on top of the roof like the impatient drumming of fingers. Fate was behind Danielle once again, hurriedly shoving her forward.

She had to move into the road rather than step over the long, outstretched legs. Tight blue jeans and surprisingly clean white sneakers, she noted. She risked a quick sideways glance as she walked by. The sweatshirt was definitely red but at the same time had a partially obscured Duke logo emblazoned across it, which puzzled her. There was a bottle beside the stranger, partly hidden in a crumpled paper bag, and an untouched apple next to that.

There were no horns though. If she hadn’t been so cold, so angry, and so desperate to get home, she might have laughed at her own foolishness. But then she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed. It was a guitar. Or rather the headstock of a guitar within a soft carrying case, poking up from behind the figure. Blurred by distance and shadow, the guitar and its faint reflection on the glass behind had seemed unreal for a while.
 
All the same, her heart refused to calm down. She could feel it thumping so hard against her ribs, as if it had finally had enough and decided to escape. You’re on your own, kid, it was saying, just let me be on my way and we’ll say no more about it. Danielle took a deep breath as she moved up to the other side of the bus shelter, putting a tiny bit of distance between herself and the stranger, and tried to concentrate on the timetable she found there. It did no good. Past midnight, no phone, no purse, in unfamiliar territory. The only scarier thing than being all alone was suddenly realizing you’re not all alone.
 
As she studied the timetable, out of the corner of her eye Danielle saw that she was being watched. In the reflection of the dirty glass she could see the stranger leaning forward, more strands of hair – dark red, Danielle noticed now that the light was better and she was closer – falling out from under the hood. A hand was held out, palm up. She thought at first that an appeal for spare change was being made but then saw the hand wasn’t directed at her, rather out past the shelter of the bus-stop.

Danielle sighed. Even out here in the middle of nowhere she couldn’t get away from sarcastic jibes. No, it wasn’t damn well raining, she wanted to say. Instead she studiously ignored the gesture. She’d had enough humiliation for one night, thank you very much.

The timetable was making no sense. There was a map above it but that wasn’t much good to her either. The only thing she could place was the St. James Infirmary, as she’d spent a couple of weeks studying there last year, but she didn’t remember any of the roads around it. She looked east and west, trying to figure out the street-names on the crossroads. Twelfth Street and Vine. Well, that didn’t help at all.

“Rough night?”
The voice surprised her. It was softer and kinder than she had supposed. A stranger still, but not a man then. That was some relief. She almost turned, caught herself just in time. Out of the corner of her eye, Danielle watched the figure shift the strap of the guitar case across her chest. Yes, definitely a woman now that she looked closely, Danielle thought, not that it made much difference. She could still very well be some kind of homeless psycho.

Danielle shivered. She had known it was cold but the brisk walking pace she had set for the last twenty minutes had kept her warm. Now she’d stood still for a few minutes, that warmth was going away, and the wet clothes were like ice plastering her skin.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Danielle said after some hesitation.

“You’d be surprised. Still, it’s about to get a lot worse.”

The voice was level, no trace of anger or threat. All the same, what was said made Danielle feel a hell of a lot colder all of a sudden. She tried to say something but her mouth moved wordlessly.

The woman pulled back her hood. She was smiling, not maliciously, not meanly, like so many other smiles Danielle had seen lately, but a genuinely friendly smile. Her skin was as pale as Danielle’s was dark, her face cute in an odd kind of way, with a nose that was a little too long and eyes that caught more shadow than light.

She did have red hair, Danielle confirmed. The color looked a little too natural to really be natural though. The hair was cut in a low bob, framing her face well. It was probably a stylish cut two or three years ago, although that whole hip-retro look seemed to be what the woman was going for, what with the washed out jeans and oddly-colored sweatshirt. Like a party-goer who was always fashionable late by just the right amount of time, this stranger’s whole ensemble was just a little past its prime. It worked though. It was certainly a good look on her, Danielle thought. She could bring eyesight to the blind.

“The buses stop running at midnight.”

Damn, Danielle thought. Damn, damn, damn! Fate was laughing at her yet again, having found her so gullible and willing. She could feel tears welling up and she swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain as calm as she could. Damn it, she just wanted to get home. Why was that so hard?

“I have a cellphone,” the woman said, “if you need to call someone.”

“There’s no one to call.”

An eyebrow was raised. “No friends?”

“They’re all at the party.”
“Family then?”

Danielle shook her head without thinking. No, her family were all back in Hazlehurst. Not that they would particularly want to hear from her anyway. And stupidly, Danielle had admitted to a complete stranger that if anything happened to her, no one would come looking. Not for a while, anyway. She wasn’t sure this woman meant her any harm but all the same…

“Okay then,” the woman said, still smiling. She stood, then dug into the pocket of her jeans and drew out a cellphone. Flipping it open, she dialed quickly, held it up to an ear, and then tapped her feet impatiently while she waited for someone to answer. “Hello? Oh hi, I’d like to request a taxi, please.”

Taken aback, Danielle tried to say something but the woman silenced her by holding up her free hand.

“The bus shelter at the top of Vine Street. Yes, that’s right, the crossroads. How long will that be? Okay, thanks.” She snapped the phone shut and it disappeared into a pocket again. “See? All sorted.”

“What did you do that for?” Danielle said.

“I’m trying to help. There are some people who still do that, you know.” 

The smile wouldn’t go away, Danielle noticed. She had to stop staring. “I have no money.”

The woman frowned. “Then how were you going to catch a bus?”

“Well, I ain’t broke. I have a bit of cash, a few bucks, but not enough for a taxi. I was just hoping to ride the bus for as far as I could.”

“Further on up the road? Well, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Tips were good tonight.”

“I can’t possibly…” Danielle protested feebly.

The woman held up a hand again, cutting off the objection, and then gestured instead at the crossroads in front of them. “Well, you could stay here until the break of day or you could keep walking, but the way is dark and the night is long. And this old town is a mean old place. Your choice.”

Danielle thought about it. It didn’t take long. “Thank you,” she said, and she meant it. She didn’t like the idea of being obligated to anyone, least of all a perfect stranger, but at least this way she’d get home a lot sooner. She really didn’t like the idea of walking for another five or six miles, or however much longer she had to go. There was still a small part of her that was telling her this situation might be too good to be true, but after all that had happened tonight she was past caring.
“It’s nothing. I’m sure you’d do the same.”

Danielle wasn’t so certain she would have done. Wisely, however, she chose not to say that. “I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I will, I swear. If you give me somewhere to reach you, and your name too, I suppose…”

The woman held out a hand. Caught off-guard, Danielle found herself shaking it. The skin felt soft and surprisingly hot. There was a tiny little part of her that regretted she had to let go.

“Bobbie Johnson.”

“Bobby?”

“Short for Roberta.”

“Oh. Well, Bobbie, I’m Danielle. Danielle Webster.”

She shivered again. The wind had gotten colder and dark clouds were rolling in, hiding the moon and throwing a gloom across the street. Through the cracks in the shelter, a breeze caught at Danielle’s blouse, chilling her to the bone and forcing the damp cotton to cling painfully against her skin.

“You’re cold,” Bobbie said. She pulled the strap over her head and carefully placed her guitar on the bench behind her, then began peeling off her sweatshirt. She had bare arms underneath, Danielle noted, with a sleeveless white tee. The right arm was somehow darker and seemed to fade into the shadows as it moved. It took Danielle a moment to realize the darkness was a tattoo; a rearing black snake wound itself around the forearm.

Feeling more than a little guilty, Danielle watched the stranger strip. Now that she was standing, Danielle could see how she was long and lean, with a waist that was perhaps a little too skinny for her frame, especially for her wide hips. Her tee was drawn up as she reached up to haul the sweatshirt over her head, and Danielle couldn’t stop herself from admiring the taut stomach and the way the low-cut jeans barely hung on those broad hips.

As she was handed the top, Danielle again tried a half-hearted protest, but apparently her savior would brook no argument. It was a thick fleece material, and Danielle could feel the warmth of other woman’s body radiating from it still. For a second, she longed to bury herself in the fabric and honestly didn’t know why.

When she hesitated, Bobbie tilted her head and smiled again. “I can turn around if you like. If you’re embarrassed, I mean.”

Danielle almost laughed. Almost. Funny, she thought, how comfortable this woman was making her feel in such an uncomfortable situation. She began pulling the sweatshirt on over her blouse. “No, there’s no need. But I’ll just wear it until the taxi gets here, okay?”

“If you like,” Bobbie said with a shrug.

“How long do I have to wait?” Danielle’s voice was muffled as she pulled the top on over her dreadlocks.

“Twenty minutes or so, they said. It could be longer, who knows? I’ll stay with you, don’t worry. I could do with the company. I think I’ve had enough of not wanting a soul around me. You know, if you like, you could tell me how come you’re soaking wet. Just to pass the time. Get a notion to jump in the ocean, did you?”

“No, not really. I didn’t jump so much.” Danielle straightened out the borrowed sweatshirt as she spoke. She felt warmer already, although her legs were still freezing, the thin fabric of her slacks catching the slightest gust of the night wind and making her shudder again. She supposed she had no chance of getting into Bobbie’s jeans. She smiled to herself. God, what was she thinking?

As she sat down beside Bobbie on the cooling board of the bus shelter’s bench, she made an effort to change the subject. She really didn’t want to talk about what had happened to her earlier. Besides, something had just occurred to her. “Hang on… if there are no more buses running, then what are you doing…” She stopped, thinking about how best to delicately phrase her question. “Then how are you planning on getting home?”

An indifferent shrug. “I couldn’t sleep tonight, I may not ever. So instead I was just waiting for someone.”

“Who?”

“The first person to come along.”

Okay then…. Danielle wasn’t sure what to make of that. Instead she kept talking. “You said tips were good tonight. Are you a waitress?”

“No, a bartender. I work in the 12-Bar down the street. You probably passed it.”

“But…” Danielle gestured at the guitar, her question obvious.

“Oh, this? I only work in the bar late nights, once cocktail hour is over. They couldn’t pay me enough to deal with those drunks and reprobates, trust me.” Bobbie picked up the guitar and placed it on the ground, resting against a corner of the bench, so they both had more room, then settled down into a more comfortable position. Danielle sat down beside her, careful to keep a little distance. “Most evenings I busk in Willie Coffee. That’s a bookstore and coffee place down by Statesboro Street.”

“You have two jobs?”

“A girl has to pay the bills. Not that I’ve done a lot of that lately. Besides, I tend to lose jobs on a fairly regular basis. I’ve had plenty over the years; you can take my word for it. When I was in college, about your age I guess, I worked in the kitchen of a fancy French restaurant. I think that’s were my bad luck with work started. I was only there for two days before they fired me for burning stuff.”

“You can’t be fired for burning food…”

“No, not food. But the entire kitchen, sure. It was a four-alarm fire, apparently.”

Danielle couldn’t help but laugh at that. She didn’t want to, tried to stop herself, but the laughter just bubbled up and exploded out. And it felt good. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to laugh.

“After I got my degree, I went to work for a PR firm.”

“Interesting.”

“Not at all, that’s why I was fired. I made it a lot more interesting.”

“Dare I ask how?”

“Sure. The things I used to do! I suppose the breaking point for the big boss man was when I persuaded a micro-brewery, who were trying to market a beer at women mind, to call their product Dead Clam Beer.”

Danielle frowned. “Doesn’t sound very appetizing. But again, that’s not enough to get you fired, surely?”

“No. But if you mix the words around…”

“Dead Beer Clam…” Danielle repeated the words. “Clam Dead… Beer Dead Clam… oh!” She covered her mouth in shock but couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” Bobbie said with a shrug. “Not my best idea. Not my worst either. That would be asking the guys in the art department to use a Georgia O’Keefe painting as the bottle label.”

“You’re lying…”

“Not at all. Needless to say, the idea and the beer didn’t go down well.” Bobbie paused suggestively. “Unlike me.”
Danielle found herself blushing and turned away. Well, that was a surprise, she thought. You meet an attractive older woman and you consider the possibility, perhaps even hope, but you never really expect anything but straight. Not with her luck, anyway, Danielle thought.

Bobbie must have sensed her discomfort. “Sorry, I get horny when I’m tired. I should have stayed in PR. People said I was suited to it.”

“How so?”

She got a shrug in answer. “Beats me. Julia always said that I was manipulative, that I always worked the angles to get what I wanted. I never thought so, but maybe she was right, and maybe that’s what people picked up on.”

Danielle wanted to ask who Julia was, but before she could speak Roberta went on. “I’m talking too much. That’s a bad habit of mine. Sometimes, when I get through talking, can’t remember a thing I said. So what about you? I’m guessing you’re in college, am I right?”

“Sure enough,” Danielle said, wincing. She looked up, bothered by the constant flickering of the streetlight overhead. It was going to give her a headache, on top of the cold she was probably going to catch. Still, she supposed she should consider herself lucky the light was working even half the time in such a rundown neighborhood as this. “I’m studying nursing over at UMMC. Not as exciting, I know.”

“What, as busking or serving drinks to cheap lechers?” said Bobbie with a gentle smile. “No, not even close. A nurse… huh. It figures.”

“What’s that mean?”

The question was ignored. “So it was a college party then? You mentioned a party earlier. Come on, you might as well tell me about it. A trouble shared and all that. We’ve still got a ways to wait by my reckoning.”

Danielle sighed and as the breath left her body, her resistance finally crumbled. “Alright, what the hell? I got invited to a party by Regan Teivel, which was odd. She’s in the popular clique at the Medical Center and wouldn’t usually spit on me if I was on fire. Jesus, listen to me talking about cliques and popularity, like it’s high school all over again. You’d think a university would be different, you really would. I did.”

“So you’re not popular?” Bobbie said, then hastily held up her hands in a placating gesture when she received an angry glare. “Forgive me, but you did say there were no friends you could call.”

“I suppose I’m not. I keep myself to myself, mostly. And then there’s…” Danielle paused, not knowing exactly how to continue.

“Your sexuality?” Deflecting another fierce look, Bobbie hurriedly went on. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not exactly hard to tell.”

Still glowering, Danielle nodded silently. She felt ashamed. Not of her wants, her desires, or even of herself, but just because this conversation was turning out to be the closest she had ever got to admitting who she was to any another person. Everyone knew, of course, or maybe knew was too strong of a word. Suspected. That was more like it. Her mother, back in Hazlehurst, probably knew, judging from the way she behaved. She’d drop clumsy hints here and there about local available men, what good prospects they were, and how Danielle shouldn’t reject all their advances. She thought her brother had even tried to talk to her about it once, although she wasn’t too sure – he’d been nervous and clumsy in his phrasing, but then she had cut off that conversation as quickly as she could. And everyone else in college probably had a good idea too. The way she was treated would seem to indicate as much. It made no difference. Danielle herself had never got so close to being honest.

No, she thought, that wasn’t quite true. This was the second closest she’d ever got. One night, last spring, after days upon days of studying for the approaching exams, she had finally broken down and walked away from the college. Not forever, although she had considered it at the time, but just a break. Just one night away from the books.

She had known about the bar on Hob’s Lane for a while but had never dared walk in. She knew the smoky red neon sign so well that sometimes she could see it whenever she closed her eyes. Walked past the bar on countless occasions, sure, always trying to summon up enough bravery to take a plunge, but never in. What if someone at college saw her? Or someone else who knew her family and word got back home?

But that night, fueled by desperation and a craving that she didn’t understand, she found the courage from somewhere. She had never been so scared in all her life. But it had worked out. It had done her studying, her confidence, her self-esteem, and even her ego the world of good, being hit on so quickly. And where it led… oh, she thought, if only she could capture that particular lightning in a bottle again…

Her reminiscences were interrupted by Bobbie speaking again. “Hmm. Well, Regan Teivel doesn’t strike me as the tolerant type.”

“You know her?” Danielle said, surprised.

“I’ve met her, once. She got caught with a fake ID in the bar. I let her get away with it, almost. Bit high on herself, I thought. She’s the sort of person who'd do anything for money, if you know what I mean.”

“You got that right. Well, anyway, I didn’t know how to get there, so some of Regan’s friends gave me a ride. Stupid of me. I should have known there and then that something was up. But I’m an idiot.”

“I doubt that. You don’t seem to be.”

Danielle ignored her. As her mother said, she never was comfortable with taking compliments. “So I get to the house out in the middle of nowhere. And there’s a party, alright, so at least that’s one fear dealt with, you know? And things seemed to go well, for a while. Most everybody is out the back by the pool…”

“Ah…” Bobbie said quietly, following along.

“Yeah, you can see where this is going. To cut a long story short, a little time goes by and then Regan and her friends push me in the pool. I’m mortified, they’re all either laughing at me or calling me names, and it just gets worse.”

“How?”

“Well, I drag myself out with what little dignity I have left. No one helps me, of course. But by the time I walk through the house, I realize my purse is at the bottom of the pool.”

“And there goes your phone and your cash, right?”

“Yeah. And my credit card too. There’s no way I’m going back for any of it, not that the phone would be any good, so I just keep walking. Luckily I memorized at least the last part of the ride over, so I know which way to head, but fairly soon I’m lost. I was lucky to run into you, believe me.”

“Yes, lucky,” Bobbie said. “Why do you think they did it?”

“How should I know?” Danielle spat.

“Come on, you must have done some wrong, on a dark and distant day.”

“No, I haven’t. I try to avoid trouble. It’s something I learned to do a long time ago.”

“Huh. Well then, looks like I was right first time. It has been a rough night for you, hasn’t it?” Bobbie reached down to the open bottle that sat on the bench between them and held it out for Danielle to take. It was a Kansas City wine, Danielle saw. “Drink? You probably need one.”

“No,” Danielle said emphatically. She eyed the other woman a little cautiously. “Thanks, but no. Should… you be drinking?”

In answer, Bobbie raised the bottle and took a long swig. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand, returned the wine to the bench and then smiled again. “Lately, I’ve been drinking like never before. I’ll quit tomorrow, unless I’m feeling tomorrow just like I’m feeling today. Look, it’s just to help me sleep, okay? That and the long walk, I’m hoping. I ain’t slept a wink since Sunday. I can’t eat a thing all day.”
“What happened on Sunday?”

The smile faded, ever so gradually. She didn’t meet Danielle’s eyes for a moment, instead choosing to stare down at the weeds growing up through the cracks in the concrete at her feet. Then she looked up suddenly and the smile was back, although it was easy for Danielle to see it was a lot less genuine now. It was a smile that hid something, if only she knew what…

“So are you seeing anyone?”

“What?” Danielle said, caught off-guard by the question.

“Come on, it’s a fair question. Obvious one too, I guess. I take it from your horror story that you went alone to the party tonight, so is that a no?”

Danielle pursed her lips. “It’s not easy,” she finally said.

“Other people never are. You have to stick with it though. It generally pays off.”

“I mean, I’m not good at meeting new people.”

“You’re doing okay with me.”

“I’m serious,” Danielle said. “I never know what to say.”

Bobbie’s grin grew wider and a little more honest. “So long as you know what to do. Sorry, I did warn you. Look, treat this as a first date, if you like.”

“What? Are you kidding?”

“No. Why not? I don’t see no taxi yet. And you’ll find I’m a good listener. I’m good at a lot of things.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Danielle said uncertainly. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date. Actually, I don’t think anything I’ve ever been on could be considered a date.”

“That bad, huh? Well, there’s a first time for everything. Tell me about yourself. I know you want to be a nurse, that you’re in college for that in Oxford, but what else? You said you don’t have a family. Why not? Did they disown you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. My father died when I was young, my mother still lives in Hazlehurst. That’s where I’m from, Hazlehurst.”

“Okay, you’re a southern girl. So you moved here to go to college and to get away from the nest, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Danielle said with a smile. “My mother’s okay but she doesn’t like the idea of me… well, you know. I’ve never told her but I think she knows. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to. Anyway, we were never close. With my father gone, my grandmama did the most to raise me, although she’s no longer with us either. That’s probably why I was always closer to her than my mother, although I don’t really know why. She wasn’t exactly a loving person, always quick to criticize and point out faults. For our own good she’d tell us. And always, and I do mean always, lecturing us about our heritage. Didn’t even like the family going to church on a Sunday.”

“You’re religious?”

“I guess. As much as the next person.”

“Depends on who you’re standing next to,” Bobbie said, gesturing towards herself. “Personally, I have no tolerance for something that lends itself to such intolerance. If you see what I mean.”

“Not everyone in a church is close-minded, believe me. I’m not devout or anything, not by a long stretch, but I guess whenever it’s possible I take heed of the gospels, always with a pinch of salt, mind.” She paused. “Are you sure I’m not boring you?”

“Not at all. What heritage are you talking about? If you don’t mind telling me, that is.”

“Oh, it makes no difference to me. My family’s originally from Nigeria, we’re descended from the Yoruba people. Grandmama was very proud of that, although I could never figure out why. She tried to teach us all about our music, our beliefs, our pantheon of Orishas, the whole works.”

“It didn’t take?”

“Some of it sunk in, I guess, although it had strong competition. Hellfire and brimstone, free every Sunday, Baptist-style. Not that I listened to that very often either. I skipped out of church every opportunity I could get. I’d get a spanking whenever I’d get home but it was worth it. The way I figure it, I was still somebody’s angel even if I didn’t go to sermons. My mother always said I was reckless. My father said I was just a wild child.”

“You sound like you really loved your father.”
“I used to think I did. But lately I sometimes wonder if I only love the idea of him. I was fairly young when he died, so I don’t remember much about him to be honest. I do remember how he used to talk to me when I was young and foolish, which was often. He’d never be angry with me, just explain what I’d done wrong and how I could fix it. Now I have no father and my sisters and my brothers, they don’t care for me.”

“You come from a big family then?”

“Yeah, two brothers, three sisters. I’m kinda in the middle. The eldest, Jabez, works in real estate. He’s okay, although he gets a little full of himself from time to time. He still lives with our mother and tends to take care of the family, has done since my father died. Thinks he’s the head of the family now. And the youngest, she’s still in high school. Marley’s a total brat, believe me.”

Danielle paused, aware that she had been doing most of the talking for the last few minutes and suddenly horribly self-conscious. She yanked at the bottom of her borrowed sweatshirt, trying to stave off another chilly gust of wind. “Haven’t you heard enough of my tragical history?”

“Okay, so let’s talk about something else,” Bobbie said. “Do you date much?”

Danielle gave a short, bitter laugh. “Hell, no! I’ve only been involved with a couple of women and none of those have been serious relationships, believe me. I think none of them lasted for more than a month.” 

“Nothing serious…” Bobbie said, as if the words meant something to her.

“Well, I haven’t really told anyone… I mean, I think people know, some people, anyway. But it ain’t nobody’s business how I live my life, right?”

“Right.”

“I tell a lie, there was a girl in our church who I fooled around with one long summer. We used to skip out on church on a hot Sunday and lay together on the river bank and make-out. It never went any further, which is probably just as well. When the fall came she got all pious and holier-than-thou and told me where to get off. I guess I should count my blessings that she kept quiet about me. If you really want to know… I can’t believe I’m telling a perfect stranger this…”

Bobbie flashed her another wicked smile. “You should know by now, Danielle, that I’m far from perfect. Close, some women have told me after the event, but never exactly perfect. Try as I might.”

“Yeah, well, if you really want to know…” Danielle said, summoning up her courage. This conversation had taken another turn towards the uncomfortable. “I’ve only ever been with… well, you know… only once before. Six months ago.”

“Really? Only once?” Bobbie seemed deep in thought. “That is interesting.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Danielle said. She was feeling decidedly awkward now. This hadn’t exactly been an interrogation but it was sure beginning to feel like one. She was embarrassed by talking about herself for so long. It didn’t feel right. Instead, she tried to change the subject. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“I was.”

Was, Danielle thought? What did that mean? She glanced down at the near empty wine bottle. Had Bobbie’s lover left her? Did that explain the drinking and the lack of sleep she had admitted to? She opened her mouth to ask, although she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to say. In the end it didn’t matter. Bobbie didn’t give her the chance.

“Julia died. About two months ago.”

Danielle’s mouth gaped open. “I’m so sorry,” she finally managed to say. “Could I… I mean, would you mind if I asked how?”

The slightest of sighs escaped from Bobbie’s lips. She quelled it with another long drink. “Julia was a nurse, just like you want to be. I actually met her in the hospital. I won’t bore you with details but it was about six years ago, and I had just gone through a very rough night of my own. I was in a bar, sloppy drunk off my ass, seriously hammered. About a nine and a half on the Dino scale of drunkenness and doing my best to get all the way to eleven. You get the idea.

“Anyway, I shot my mouth off a bit too much – that’s a trend of mine, you’ve probably guessed as much by now – and landed myself in trouble in a big crowd. To cut a long story short, I wound up in the emergency room and she was the unlucky nurse who drew the short straw and had to deal with me. I’m not a good patient when I have the flu, so you can imagine how bad I was with cuts that need stitching and a ton of glass that needed to be plucked out of my shoulder. And me being drunk as well. Still, that was lucky, I supposed. If I hadn’t been out of my skull I probably never would have had the nerve to ask her out. Thinking back, I can never actually remember asking her. She always swore I did but I can’t remember. It still amazes me that she agreed. Perhaps she knew I was a little lost, that I needed someone’s help to get my life back on track.

“Julia always wanted to help people, you see. That’s one of the reasons why I was attracted to her. She was so old school, a believer in the good in people and the community and such. Maybe that’s why I wanted to help you tonight. Julia had an infuriating habit of allowing her good traits to rub off on other people.

“We were together five long years and then out of the blue she tells me she wants to help more. She wants to serve her country is what she said. I told her no way. No way in hell am I agreeing to her joining the army, even as a medic. But she talked me round. She always did. So she signed up, underwent some perfunctory training, and then was shipped out to Iraq. It all happened so quickly. I hated it. I tried not to let it show but I think she knew. I didn’t do so well without her and I really couldn’t bear the idea of her being so far away from me. I would lay awake, praying for her each night, praying that she would come back home to me, thinking of nothing but her kiss and her warm embrace.”

“Iraq… is that where…?” Danielle said softly.
Bobbie nodded. “Two months ago, she was in a troop convoy moving to Basra to aid the British soldiers there. Some field hospital exchange or something. Nine Hum-Vees in total, they told me afterwards, but her’s was the closest to the IED that went off.” She paused, her brow furrowed. “They told me she didn’t even know what hit them. I try to believe that, really I do.”

She said nothing for a moment, and the silence ran away with itself, neither woman daring to confront it.

Eventually, Danielle felt she had to say something, anything. “I haven’t had much experience with death. I suppose that will change over time, especially considering what profession I’m studying for. I don’t remember my father dying, nothing about it all. I have memories of him being there, and I have memories without him, that’s all. 

“But I was there when my grandmama passed away. She was unwell for a long time and the family sat up with her most nights. I remember one night, when my mother had fallen asleep in her chair and I was left all alone with grandmama, and she caught me crying. She told me not to be so foolish, called me an ogberis. I had to look that up. Even then she had that harsh tone to her voice. I can’t recall her voice ever sounding any different, even when she was so worn-out and frail.

“There was nothing to be scared of, she told me. It was the unknown that scared me, and only little children were frightened by what they did not know. She had lived a gentle life, so there was no need for tears or regrets. She told me that those that die live on elsewhere, somewhere just out of reach, a short skip across an unseen stream.”

Her voice tailed off. She could have gone on, could have explained more of what had been said as her grandmama lay dying, but it looked like Bobbie wasn’t listening. She was staring at her shoes again, moving her left foot back and forth, and scraping the heel against the concrete, leaving a thin stripe of dirt across the paving slab.

Not for the first time tonight it turned out that Danielle’s assumption was wrong.

“A gentle life?” Bobbie said almost inaudibly. “How does anyone know if they’ve lived a gentle life? What impossibly high standard are we all being held too? And by who? A gentle life… shit… I can tell you that I probably haven’t lived one.” She smiled again. “It’s just as well then, that I ain’t superstitious. Julia was, but not me.”

It was a religious belief, Danielle thought, not a superstition. Although she supposed that to some people it came to much the same thing. She didn’t say anything at first, uncertain if she should answer or if she should play it safe and change the subject. After a few moments, she chose the latter. “So what kind of music do you play?” It was weak, half-hearted, and Danielle hated herself for not having the strength to let the quiet go on.

Her hand half-raised to take another drink, Bobbie looked at her for a long while, then put the bottle back down. She scratched absent-mindedly at her right arm and let out a low half-moan. “Blues mostly,” she then said, “although really whatever I feel like playing at the time. Lately, it’s been a lot of Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith, Victoria Spivey, Lucille Bogan, that kind of thing. Those early blues are what I love to sing the most these days. That’s not so surprising, I suppose.”

Danielle frowned. “I’m sorry; I don’t know who any of those are.”

“Not many people would, not these days. Joplin, then? You’ve heard of her, I take it?”

“Of course. So, blues with a bit of soul? It’s that a good way to describe it?”

“I guess. A little soul is important, after all, Danielle.”

 “And have you had any success? I mean, do you want to be…?”

“Famous?” Bobbie interrupted. “A star? No, that’s not for me. I’m happy enough with what I do now. And as for success, well all day the phone rings, but it’s not for me.”

Danielle took a breath. She wasn’t sure if she dared broach the subject again, but something was pushing the thought forward, tugging gently but persistently at her brain, making it the only thing she could focus on. “I did take a couple of psych classes last year…” It sounded lame to her even as she said it.

“Yeah? And…?”

Danielle gulped nervously. She didn’t think there was any rage or frustration in Bobbie. There might have been, once, but she suspected it had long since burned away, eroded by sheer exhaustion and too much alcohol. Now there was just an unrelenting sadness. Hidden well, certainly, but there to see if you looked closely enough. What was more carefully concealed was the cause of that sorry. Like that jigsaw again, she thought, there was one tiny piece missing, one that spoiled the entire picture.

All the same, even if she suspected that there was no real danger, Danielle chose to tread very carefully. “Well, you can’t sleep…” she began cautiously, “and you’ve been drinking. And then there’s the blues, a depressing style of music if there ever was one, and you’ve admitted that’s what you most feel like playing right now.”

Another deep breath. Now or never, she thought. “So what happened Sunday?”

To her credit, Bobbie didn’t try to avoid the question this time. She remained silent for a moment, although Danielle knew, somehow, that the answer was coming.

Bobbie lifted the wine bottle again then immediately put it down. She looked Danielle square in the eye, her face apologetic. “What good can drinking do? I got a death letter on Saturday, although I was working late and I fell straight into bed without opening it. I didn’t read it until Sunday morning, that was in her place in bed.”

“A death letter?” Danielle asked, puzzled.

“An army term. It doesn’t happen very often, not nowadays, what with e-mail and web video and such. But like I said, Julia was always old school. She wrote me letters, can you believe it? Wanted me to write back but I never did. I called her as often as I could but she always told me to write, always wanted me to.”

She leaned forward suddenly, one dark arm outstretched towards Danielle, who, confused by the unexpected movement, backed away slightly. Bobbie caught hold of the hem of her red sweatshirt, reached into the pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, then sat back.

“Sometimes,” Bobbie went on, “the mail from a soldier overseas gets delayed somehow. And don’t ask me how, because I don’t know. Normally this isn’t a problem. One late letter isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, no matter how late it is. Like two months in this case.”

“But when a soldier writes a letter, gets killed in action, and then the letter gets mislaid or sent to the wrong address or whatever, it’s known as a death letter. Because the delay means that the family receives the letter long after the death of their loved one.”

“And that’s…” Danielle said. The question didn’t need to be answered, so she let it go. Instead, she said, “I can understand why you’d be upset. Getting a letter like that, so long after… well… I… I just mean I think if it happened to me…”

“Oh no,” Bobbie said quickly, interrupting. “Receiving the letter wasn’t the worst of it. I could have dealt with that. I think I could, anyway.”

“Then…”

“You see, it wasn’t a letter, not really. It was a confession.”

Danielle said nothing. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know exactly where this conversation was going, but she knew that she had to let Bobbie go on. There is a time to talk, she knew, and a time to listen.

“It broke my heart. That’s… that’s not true. Of course it didn’t. A heart can’t break. It’s a design flaw. If it broke, then at least it wouldn’t hurt anymore. And it hurt… so damn much!”

She was crying now, Danielle noticed. Not sobbing, not bawling, just softly crying.

“I’ve got to get myself together,” Bobbie said, brushing at the tears rolling down her face, “before I lose my mind. You see, she admitted to having an affair. She was home on leave, just for a few weeks, right before her second term of service, and we’d been arguing. It was hard adjusting, going from having her with me every day, to not, then back. She accused me of being co-dependent. She was probably right. Right or not, I treated her pretty shabbily, I can’t deny that. You’d think I’d be glad to have her back, but you’d never know it from the way I treated her.”

“We had a bad fight that night, the worst we ever had. I walked out on her, stormed out in a mad rage, yelled at her that I couldn’t stand it no more. She told me in this,” Bobbie held up the letter between two fingers, “that was why it happened. She had nowhere else to turn, she said, and she just needed someone. I’m not sure I believe her. And it was just one night, she told me. Just one night.”

“She begged for my forgiveness. She wrote that it was a mistake, that she didn’t mean for it to happen, that if she could take it back, she would. All this from someone I can never forgive. Not because I don’t want, because I would in a second, and not because she doesn’t deserve it. It's too late, my baby's gone.”

“And she told me everything. When, where…” Bobbie looked steadily at Danielle. “…and who.”

Danielle couldn’t believe what she had heard. If she was right about what she suspected Bobbie was saying then her one moment of absolute truth, her only moment, had caused so much misery. How could that be?

Bobbie unfolded the letter, her moves so slow as to be almost reverential. Her voice cracked as she began to read aloud.

“My days are so long, babe, you know my nights are lonesome too. Don't you know that I love you? Honest I do. I'll never place no one above you. Since I first met you babe, I never knew what I was missing.

“I’ve been honest with you and told you everything that happened. You know I am to blame. My ma told me these days would surely come but I wouldn't listen. All I can say is that I made a mistake in life and I’ve probably ruined our happy home. I really meant I was sorry for ever causing you pain. You walked out anyway.

“This is a mean old world, babe to live in by yourself, all the more so when you can't get the woman you love. I am so sorry, please know that. I’ve prayed every night since then, that the Lord will acknowledge to my good gal, that I have done you wrong.

“If I live, I pray I don’t get killed. Please write my mother and tell her the shape I'm in. Tell her to pray for me, forgive me for my sin, for all of my sin.”

Bobbie looked up from the letter. “I won’t read it all, it’s too long. But the gist of it is that this was six months ago. Julia wrote that she went to a bar by the local nursing school to try to get drunk. She didn’t intend to hook up with anyone, she just wanted to let off steam. But in the bar she met a beautiful black woman called Danielle Webster, who needed a release of her own, a break from the stresses of a rigorous college schedule. One thing led to another, she said. Like it was so simple.”

“She makes a point of saying how beautiful you were. In the letter, I mean. She’s not talking about looks, she never cared about those. She was with me for long enough, after all. The soul, that was what she always looked for. She said yours took her breath away, how you were such a beautiful woman, and how sad it made her that you couldn’t see it yourself. She even writes that she thought I would have liked you.”

Bobbie wiped at her eyes again. The crying had stopped but her cheeks were still wet, so she rubbed frantically at her face. “And you know what’s funny? I think I actually do.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Twin headlights had appeared in the distance, closely followed by a big snake of red tail-lights. “Your taxi’s here,” she said.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” Danielle said quietly. “She never said… not once…”

“I believe you. Julia said in her letter that she lied to you about her name. Guilt, I suppose, even then.”

“You planned all this. Didn’t you?”

Bobbie smiled sadly. “I’m afraid so. I wanted to meet the woman Julia turned to when I let her down. And while I’m sure there were easier ways, insomnia has meant I’ve had a lot of time on my hands. I go a little crazy without sleep.”

“You had my name, so I guess I wasn’t hard to find. You liked the fact that I was a nurse. And you knew that bitch Regan… I’m guessing you arranged for her to invite me to the party?”

“Not so much arranged, as coerced. That fake ID of hers came back to haunt her.”

“I suppose even pushing me in the pool was your idea. And you knew that I’d follow this road…”

“Like I said, I manipulate people. You’ll have to forgive me.”

Danielle was quiet for a long time. The bulky yellow shape of the taxi pulled up beside the bus shelter, its engine idling. Finally, she glanced up at Bobbie and said, “Should I? Could you forgive Julia now?”

“I’m not sure. I think I’m closer to. And for that I thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” Danielle was incredulous. “You're not angry with me?”

“Why should I be? Trust me, I know how easy it was to fall in love with Julia.” Bobbie smiled. It was a warm, honest smile. “She had a lot of love to give, and she attracted a lot of love too. Oh, I admit that at first I wanted to hurt her, like she had hurt me. But I couldn’t, could I? And never you. I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t have it in me. Push you around a little, maybe, try to get an honest reaction from you, see what kind of person you really were.”

“Did you get what you wanted?”

“I think so. Maybe. Then again, maybe not.”

Danielle got to her feet. “There’s a way you can find out, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Danielle said. “I told you I was no good at this. And you haven’t made it any easier, you know.”

“How so?”

“Well, I suppose I could ask you out for coffee or a drink but what would be the point? You probably get enough of both.”

Smiling, Bobbie stood and moved a little closer. She reached down to pull open the car door, allowing Danielle to clamber in to the back seat, then passed the driver a small bundle of bills. When she came back to the door, she asked, “Okay, then, so maybe you want to get a bite instead?”

“At this time of night? I’m not really hungry.”

“Who’s talking about food?” Bobbie said with a wide grin. “Sorry, there I go again.”

Danielle blushed, in spite of herself. She held out a hand and the other woman took it gently, stroking the palm gently with her thumb. “I need to change my clothes. And we both need to get some sleep, especially you. We can talk tomorrow, if you like. I’m sure you know where to find me.”

“Breakfast then?”

“Sure.”

They held hands for a brief moment longer, then Bobbie stepped back and pushed the car door shut with a soft click.

The taxi pulled away. Bobbie sighed, picked up her guitar case from where it lay, threw it over one shoulder, and began walking. She had a new long road stretching out in front of her and fate had already started nudging her along it.

Up above, the streetlight flickered once more and then finally went out.

CLASS OF '88

by Norsebard

Contact: norsebarddk@gmail.com

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DISCLAIMERS:

This alt. romance is an original story. All characters are created by me.

This story depicts a loving, sexual relationship between consenting adult women. If such a story frightens you, you better click on the X in the top right corner of your screen right away.

All characters depicted, names used, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons is intended nor should be inferred. Any resemblance of the characters portrayed to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The registered trademarks mentioned in this story are © of their respective owners. No infringement of their rights is intended, and no profit is gained.

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NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:

Written: September 17th - 24th, 2011 for the Cocktail Hour Writing Challenge.

Description: For Delia Corbett, the party marking the twentieth anniversary of her finishing secondary school turns into a magical, unpredictable evening with plenty of laughter and a few tears. Meeting her old classmates for the first time in years brings back a lot of memories - especially of Vicky Baxter, a honey-blonde beauty who was the first girl Delia kissed…

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'
WELCOME CLASS OF 1988!
Twentieth Anniversary, June 1988 - 2008
'
"Hmmm…" Delia 'Del' Corbett said, closing her right eye and putting an index finger across her lips while studying the red and yellow plastic banner that had been draped above the entrance.

The car park in front of the building she had rented for the reunion party - the village hall in Barton-upon-Lea - wasn't the world's most inspiring place to be, and it didn't help that the weather left a lot to be desired; it was windy and spitting with rain, as usual.

The gusts of wind made a mess of Delia's long, mousy brown hair, and she had to clamp down on it with both hands to stop it from turning into a haystack.

Delia's sister, Cathy, tried to fight the gusts perched on the top step of an impossibly tall ladder, practically turning blue in the face from trying to hold the plastic banner steady. "Even higher, Del?"

"Hmmm. No. A little down."

"Will you make up your bleedin' mind!  You said it was too low before!"

"Woman's prerogative.  Ah, keep it where it is. Nobody is going to look at it, anyway," Delia said and waved her hand.

Cathy grumbled and reached for the hammer she had stuck into her pocket. With a little skill and a lot of luck, she managed to put a nail in the wall without ruining either.  Finally allowed to climb down from the ladder, Cathy crossed the parking area to stand next to her sister.

A gust of wind nearly tore Delia's hair off and she gave up trying to control it. Sighing, she turned back to the banner.  In the meantime, the gust of wind and the weight of the large piece of plastic had joined forces to pull the corner Cathy had worked so hard on down by at least two inches.

"Cathy…?"  Delia said in a monotone.

"I know, I know!  The banner is crooked again," Cathy said, dabbing her forehead with a pink hankie.

"Yes, but that wasn't what I was going to say.  Cathy, tell me, shouldn't there be a comma between 'welcome' and 'class'…?"

"If you want a comma, you climb the ladder to put it there," Cathy said and patted her sister's shoulder.

"Well, it's not that much of a problem, I just thought that it needed… never mind."  Harrumphing, Delia crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sis, I really hope you'll put away your anal tendencies while you're chatting to your old classmates… or were you planning to point out all their faults?"

"Oh, come on, I don't do that!"

"You do it more than you think, Del."

"I'm a stickler for details, so what," Delia huffed, turning away from her sister. When all Cathy did was to chuckle at her, Delia strode over to the entrance to the village hall to see how things were going inside.

At once, she took a clipboard from a makeshift table, leafed through the pages and found her to-do list. After running her index finger down the list, she made a check-mark next to 'put up banner.'

Still holding the clipboard, Delia turned around in a circle to take in the state of the rented village hall.  She had accepted the task of organising the class reunion thinking that it wouldn't pose much of a problem for her - after all, she was used to brokering thousands of forty-foot containers for Braithwaite Worldwide Shipping - but a few days into the preparations, she'd had to admit that she had bitten off more than she could chew and had asked her sister and her husband to help out.

Even now, with only an hour and a half to go until the official starting time, the village hall was a chaotic mess: the DJ had arrived early and was putting up his gear right in the middle of the main hall, the balloons and the rest of the party equipment hadn't even been unpacked yet and the caterers hadn't shown up - which was actually a good thing since the chairs and the tables were standing unattended in the corner because the carpet had been rolled back in two places to try to pad the uneven surface.

"Sis, when are you going to change clothes?  Or are you planning to wear that purple and pink tracksuit for the reunion?" Cathy said, stifling a snicker and poking her finger into her sister's dubious outfit.

Delia turned around and shot her sister a dark look.  "I'm sorry, how old are you?  Last time I looked, you were thirty, not thirteen!  Where's your husband, anyway?  Brian was supposed to have the carpet fixed by now!"

"He's yapping with the DJ… looks like they're arranging the play list.  Sis, I'm going to start unwrapping the balloons. Can you handle the caterers if they arrive?"

"Sure, sure. Don't play with the helium."

"Ugh, I already have a mother…" Cathy said and hurriedly moved away from Delia in case she was planning to retaliate.

Rolling her eyes over her sister's silly games, Delia turned to look at the pile of wooden boxes in the centre of the hall. They were all marked 'Fragile', but that hadn't stopped the DJ from piling them up three boxes high.

Behind the pile, the DJ and Brian Walsh - Cathy's husband - were having an animated conversation while looking at several vinyl albums.  One of the albums the DJ was holding was by AC/DC, and that made Delia bite her lip.

'If he starts playing heavy metal, I'm going to have a quiet word in his ear. We agreed on eighties' pop.  He cost me three hundred pounds so I don't want any nonsense out of him,' she thought, scrunching up her face.

When Brian finally noticed Delia standing in the centre of the hall, he said a quick goodbye to the DJ and made his way over to her.  "You have a look in your eye that says you want to talk to me…?" he said as he came up to stand next to her.

Brian was thirty-six - which Delia thought was a bit too old for her sister - and he was sporting a sandy-brown full beard that clashed severely with the outfit he was wearing: pale grey trousers, a white shirt and a narrow, black leather tie.

"No, I want us to do something about the uneven floor so we can get the carpet rolled back so we won't have to carry the bloomin' buffet cart across the hall! The caterers are going to be here shortly, Brian!"

"All righty.  It shouldn't be too hard. I've looked at it and I think it only needs a few old newspapers here and there. That should level it out," Brian said, nodding.

"Well…?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, get on with it. Please," Delia said, adding the last word almost as an afterthought.

"Anything for my darling wife's sister," Brian said with a grin, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

---

Fifteen minutes later, Brian nudged the last section of the chocolate brown carpet into place before wiping a few drops of sweat off his brow.  "And there we have it," he said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

Looking at the carpet, Delia made a slight grimace that signalled that she wasn't sure whether or not she actually liked that shade of brown. "Excellent. Thanks, Brian," she said, taking the clipboard and making a check-mark next to 'fix the floor!'  "Would you mind helping me with the tables?  I can take the chairs myself, and then you can go help Cathy with the balloons and the rest of the fun stuff."

"Del, the tables are heavy.  It's a job for men," Brian said and waved the DJ over to them.

Delia's only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"Henry the Hit Machine and I will take care of it. Right, Henry?" Brian said and patted the DJ's back.  The bespectacled Henry nodded reluctantly before shuffling off to get the first table.

Looking at the many boxes that had been placed exactly where the tables were supposed to be, Delia cleared her throat and raised her hand.  "Uh, Henry, before you start with the tables… I'm sorry to tell you after you've had the trouble of putting up your gear… but you were actually supposed to put it up on the small stage down there," Delia said and pointed at a dais that had been erected at the end of the hall.

"Oh…" Henry said, looking at his collection of massive boxes containing hundreds of vinyl albums and singles.

"Don't worry, I'll help you move 'em," Brian said.

"Okay," Henry said and shuffled back to his wooden boxes.

"How much did you pay for his services?" Brian whispered once the DJ was out of earshot.

"Three hundred quid," Delia whispered back.

"Hm!"

"All right. I'll let you two strongmen have at it.  And don't forget, the tables are rented. If you scratch them, they won't refund our deposit," Delia said on her way over to Cathy.

"No problem!  We're on top of everything!"  Brian shouted, giving Delia a thumbs-up.

"Gives me the shivers just thinking about it," Delia said under her breath.

---

Clutching the clipboard, Delia walked over to the other side of the village hall to check up on Cathy's progress.  Once she got there, she was astounded to see that her sister had already inflated close to three dozen regular balloons and a handful of colourful animals - two elephants, a donkey and a crocodile.

"Cathy… wow, I can see that things are going just fine here," Delia said, tucking the clipboard under her arm.

"Yep.  Two packs of balloons and six of those weird animal things to go. Shouldn't take me too long."

"Good, because we don't have much time," Delia said, looking at her watch. "And the helium…?"

"Oh, we have plenty left.  Don't worry about that," Cathy said as she finished inflating an eagle.  Once it was done, she carried it over to the small stage and tied the string to the bottom part where it joined its distant relatives, almost creating a zoo-like atmosphere.

"Thank you," Delia said and made a new check-mark.  "If you don't need me here, I'll go into the Ladies' and change."

"Sure. If there's any drama, I'll just scream your name, like in the old days."

"Ha. Ha. Ha.  No, actually, that wasn't funny at all," Delia said and spun around on her heel.

"Yes it was!"

After closing and locking the door to the Ladies' room, Delia found the first peace and quiet of her entire day. Letting out a sigh of relief, she walked down to the other end of the rest room, past the five stalls and the huge mirror above the wash basin.

The rest rooms were lined with cool, white tiles and everything appeared to be squeaky clean and in good condition, something Delia appreciated greatly because if there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was grotty toilet facilities.

She and Cathy each had a dress bag containing their fancy frocks hanging from a stainless steel pipe in the ceiling, and she quickly went over to hers. Unzipping it, she looked at the outfit she had chosen for the class reunion - flats, a pair of form-fitting putty-coloured slacks, a green cotton shirt and a white undershirt.

After removing the items from the bag and giving them a thorough once-over, she decided against wearing the undershirt and put it back into the dress bag.

'After all, it's okay to show some skin once every ten years.  Not that anyone will notice,' she thought as she took off her trainers and slipped out of the pink and purple tracksuit.

Three minutes later, she looked at the result in the mirror.  Running her hands up her thighs and around her bum, she worried that the form-fitting slacks were far too revealing, but she eventually came to the conclusion that the other women were going to be dressed just as outrageously.

'It's just a sign of these over-sexed times,' she thought as she buttoned her shirt, remembering to leave the top three buttons undone to complete the image she wanted to convey.  'Hmmm… the shirt… inside or outside…?   Inside.'

To conclude her dolling-up, she reached for the small jewellery box at the bottom of the dress bag.  Once she had put on her two-tier gold necklace that Cathy had given her for her thirty-eighth birthday, she fluffed her long hair so it fell just right, and took a step back so she could see herself in the mirror.

"Well. Hmmm. Not too shabby, I suppose," she said out loud.  Shrugging, she scooped up her tracksuit and stuffed it into the dress bag.

---

As Delia came out of the rest rooms, she stopped to let her trained eye sweep over the various hotspots - Cathy had finished inflating the balloons, and Brian and the DJ had shifted the gear up on the stage and were busy moving the tables into the centre of the hall, placing them in a horseshoe like instructed.

'Great.  All I need to do is to move the chairs, the small lamps and the flower arrangements over to the tables… roll the buffet cart over to the other wall and plug it into the wall socket… oh, God, I hope the caterers arrive before the first guests do,' she thought on her way over to the many stacks of chairs.

Grabbing seven chairs, her lower back immediately sent out a distress call, forcing her to reduce her ambitions and try again with four.  "Bugger, I'm getting old…" she said under her breath. "Cathy?  Cathy…?"

"I'm up here, Del," Cathy said from the small dais where she was busy tying the final three inflated animals to the stage.

"Would you mind coming down here to give your old, old, big sister a hand with the chairs?"

After staggering over to the tables carrying an armful of chairs, Delia quickly distributed the seats along the completed wing of the horseshoe, remembering to leave room to place the tablecloth, the battery powered lamps and the flower arrangements.

"I'll be right there… wow!  You should dress up more often, Sis. You look smashing!" Cathy said and pulled her husband over to the side so he could catch an eyeful of Delia.

Brian nodded appreciatively, leering at his sister-in-law's long legs and shapely bum.  Cathy noticed and quickly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Thanks, Cathy.  Oh, the rest room is ready so you can go change whenever you feel like it," Delia said and scooped up four more chairs.

"I'll do that as soon as we have the tables ready," Cathy said and took the quick way down by jumping off the stage instead of going down the stairs.

"Careful doing that, Cathy.  You might sprain an ankle."

"Yes, mum."

"Cathy…" Delia said in a flat monotone - the one she always used when Cathy was doing something that grated on her nerves.

"Just teasing."

"I noticed."

After placing the final table, Brian stood up straight and wiped some sweat off his brow.  "That's the last of the tables, Del. The horseshoe is complete."

"Thanks, Brian."

"You're welcome.  Boy, I need a rest…" she said and shuffled over to the couches that would later double as the lounge.

Delia returned to the stacks of chairs and picked up four more. On her way back to the tables, her eardrums were assaulted by a horrendously loud screech from the DJ's loudspeakers that nearly caused her to drop the entire load.

"What the HELL was that?" she howled, quickly stepping sideways to keep her balance.

"Sorry," Henry the Hit Machine said from somewhere behind his equipment. "Wrong jack."

"Wrong jack my foot," Delia growled as she distributed the chairs along the furthest wing of the horseshoe.

When Cathy brought over the four remaining chairs, the two sisters quickly put on the tablecloths, the battery powered lamps and the flower arrangements, making sure - with military-like precision - that the lamps and the ceramic flower pots were lined up dead-centre on the tables.

"I need a cig before I change. Okay?" Cathy said, digging into her pockets to find a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

"Sure, but wear a jacket. It's quite chilly out there."

"Yes, mum."

Before Delia had time to make a snappy retort, Henry turned on his microphone and tapped his index finger on it to make sure it was on - the thumping sound it created reverberated through the village hall.  "Testing… testing… testi-" *SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!*

"Gaaaah!" Delia howled, jumping a foot in the air and three feet backwards. Once she landed, she put a hand on her wildly beating heart and sent Henry a whole series of Evil Eyes.

"Sorry… wrong jack," the DJ said, fumbling with the many cables.

"Del!  Del!  The caterers are here!" Cathy said, standing in the main entrance with her unlit cigarette in her hand.

"Oh, damn, the buffet cart hasn't been plugged in yet!" Delia said and threw her arms in the air.  "Brian!  Get the cart over to the other wall and plug it in!" she barked, hurrying over to the door to help her sister and the caterers carry in the many trays and Styrofoam boxes.

"Yes, ma'am!" Brian said and sent Delia a salute that wouldn't have cut it in any of the Queen's armed forces.

-*-*-*-

Once the buffet cart had been plugged in and filled to the brim with all kinds of meats, potatoes, vegetables and salads, Delia took a few steps back to get the big picture.

"Let's see… the pork chops, the roast beef, the bangers and the chips are under the red lamps… the salads are all in the cooling trays… mmmm.  The veggies are fresh and inviting… excellent," she mumbled to herself, pointing her index finger at the various items to make sure that everything was where it was supposed to be.

Moving over to the refrigerators, she looked at the beverages through the glass doors, again moving her index finger down the shelves. "… soft drinks, soft drinks, soft drinks, beer, beer, beer, beer, beer, beer… good." Smiling, she made two big check-marks next to 'food' and 'drink' on her to-do list.

After making sure that they had plenty of red, white and rosé wines, Delia dabbed her damp forehead and prayed for a fun, relaxing evening.

"Testing… testing… testing…" Henry said from the stage, making Delia roll her eyes repeatedly.

"Brian, can you turn the lights down, please?"  Henry continued, putting on one of his old vinyl records.

Standing at a panel that held all the switches for the lights, Brian sent the DJ a thumbs-up and began to move the slider down until the lights had been reduced to a very faint level.

At the same time, Henry put the needle on the record and activated his four spotlights that had been placed near the stage.  Soon, the unmistakable intro to Crockett's Theme from Miami Vice started playing, accompanied by a blue, a green, a red and a yellow spotlight that blinked and rotated to the relatively slow rhythm of the timeless instrumental.

Despite the fact that it was created by only four spotlights, the light show was quite spectacular and Delia found herself rather impressed.  As the song continued, her mind was flooded by sweet memories of a party in 1986 where that very tune had formed the soundtrack to an unforgettable couple of kisses, given to her by a girl from her class that she'd had a baby-crush on.

'Vicky Baxter… God, I hope she shows up tonight.  I would so much like to see her again…' Delia thought, sighing deeply.  A split second later, the moment was ruined when Brian turned the lights back up to full strength without warning.

"Brian!" Delia barked, slamming her hand across her eyes that had already adapted to the semi-darkness.

"Sorry!" Brian said, but the chuckle that followed gave away that he wasn't being entirely honest.

Grumbling, Delia spun around and stomped over to the buffet cart.

-*-*-*-

Slightly less than ten minutes later, the elderly lady arrived that Delia had rented to handle the cloakroom - or rather, bribed with the promise of two tickets to the opera.

"Miss Corbett?"  the woman said, knocking on the doorjamb. Vivian Harper, a retired secretary whom Delia had worked with in the shipping company, kept waiting in the doorway, almost like she didn't think it was appropriate to set foot in the village hall.

"Oh, good evening, Mrs. Harper," Delia said and put down her clipboard.  She walked over to the door and gave the woman a thorough handshake.

"It's certainly wet and cold tonight,"  Vivian said as she turned around to step into the cloakroom that was located in a small anteroom before the main hall.

"Yes. I really hope you won't get too cold out here…?"

"Oh, no, Miss Corbett, that won't be a problem.  I'm wearing woolly bloomers."

"Oh… uh, good."

As soon as Vivian had taken off her parka revealing that she was wearing an old-fashioned black and white dress, she emptied a plastic bag of coat tags out on an old and slightly scruffy table.  "When you asked me to take care of the cloakroom, I thought up a clever, little system that'll help me keep track of the clothes. How many guests are you expecting, Miss Corbett?"

"Oh… we've sent out twenty-five invitations, but with spouses et cetera, I think we'll be looking at forty guests."

"All right," Vivian said and left fifty tags on the table to have a little overhead.

"Well, thank goodness I bought a few extra coat hangers at Woolworths this afternoon, because that lot over there wouldn't be enough for half that number of guests," Vivian continued, pointing at a small, sorry-looking batch of rusty coat hangers hanging on the inside wall of the cloakroom.

"Oh… I… I hadn't noticed. I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Harper. Naturally, I'll compensate you."

"That's all right, dear, they were only £4.99 for fifty plastic hangers.  You needn't worry about me, everything will be just fine," Vivian said and patted Delia's hand in a reassuring and very maternal fashion.

"Oh, that's good to hear, Mrs. Harper."

"I'll just pop out to my car to fetch them before the first guests arrive," Vivian said and put her parka back on.

"You do that, Mrs. Harper. Thank you very much," Delia said and turned away, happy that at least one part of the evening was handled professionally.

A few minutes later - with the brand new coat hangers in action - the first guests arrived with an excited laugh that made Delia walk over to the entrance to see what was going on.

"DELIAAAAAAA!" a pretty redhead in a floral dress howled the moment she saw Delia's characteristic shape turn up in the doorway. Seconds later, the woman ran forward and practically threw herself into Delia's open arms.

"GAWD! It's so good to see you, Del!  Is everything all right?  Good Lord, you look fantastic in those trousers!  Where did you buy them?  I wish I had your grace… look at me, I'm like the Michelin Man… damn that chocolate, ha ha. Have you met my husband yet?  Jonathan… Jonathan, get over here, you need to say hello to Delia, one of my best friends from my old class!"

Biting her lip, Delia smiled tolerantly as the woman’s excitement didn’t allow her to get a word in edgewise.

"Hi, Delia. I'm Jonathan Rhodes," Jonathan said a great deal more subdued than his wife.
"Hi, Jonathan.  Hello, Evelyn.  It's been a while, hasn't it?" Delia said and gave the excitable woman another hug.

"It certainly has!  God, ten years!  Can you believe it?  Looking at you, I can't!  You look sensational!"

"Thank y-"

"How is your sister?  She got married, didn't she?  Oh, I need to meet her. Is she still here?"

"Yes, she's-"

"Oh, fantabulous!  We have so much to catch up on, Delia.  I can't wait to give you all the juicy details!"  Evelyn said as she hurried into the village hall.

"Evelyn, you need to leave your coat here… that's what the wardrobe is for… Evelyn!" Jonathan said loudly to catch his wife's attention.

"Oh!  How clever," Evelyn said and hurried back to the anteroom.

Smirking, Delia smoothed down her eyebrows.  'If I get such a welcome from all my old classmates, I'll need a sedative before the evening is over,' she thought, chuckling quietly to herself.

-*-*-*-

The next few guests arrived with slightly less hullabaloo - save for the occasional loud squeal bursting out of Evelyn when she met one of her old friends - but the one person Delia was dying to see hadn't turned up yet.

She kept checking her wristwatch, looking at the hands creeping closer and closer to eight o'clock.  They were still five invitees short, but the village hall had filled up quite nicely and there was a great buzz going already. Delia knew it would be unfair to the others to keep them waiting for someone who might not show up, so she decided to go ahead with the evening's plans.

Sighing, she moved away from the main entrance and walked over to the tables. 'All right. It's not like we're going to lock the doors like at a rock concert. The most important thing is that they show up, not when,' she thought.

As she stood at her chair at the outside of the horseshoe, she looked at her old classmates with a content, if amused, expression on her face. With a single exception - namely Evelyn - it hadn't taken them ten minutes to return to the old groupings, and she had to chuckle when she noticed that the lines in the crowd were quite sharply drawn.

Clearing her throat, she took a knife and tapped it on the side of her glass to get everyone's attention.

"Ahem!  May I have your attention, please!  It's been twenty years since we left school and ten years since we last had a reunion party.  Most of us haven't seen each other in the intervening years, but looking at the way you lot mingle, who would believe that…?  Oh, Geoffrey, I see you've found the beer already."

Laughing, Geoffrey Hutchins - a gardener working for the city council - raised his Carlsberg to salute the speaker.

"While we're on that subject, the soft drinks and the beer are all in the refrigerator over there," - Delia pointed at the far wall - "next to the buffet cart.  Oh, and if some of you, Geoffrey, feel like drinking more than your share, we have made an arrangement with the local Constabulary who have set up a small booth out in the car park. No, just kidding… possibly."

The guests laughed appropriately, including Cathy who knew that her sister was only half-joking - they had indeed contacted the local police station, but they had been too understaffed to send a Constable.

"Now, I'd like to introduce our DJ for the evening, Henry Brunton, better known as Henry the Hit Machine… stand up, please, Henry."

Henry had only just risen from his chair on the stage when Delia continued: "Thank you, you may sit down again.  Henry has promised us an evening of wonderful music from the golden era known as the eighties… you may recall it, we were still young and beautiful then," Delia continued, earning herself a new round of laughter.

"Well!  All that's left to say is, turn down the lights, please, Brian…" - Delia looked to her right where Brian quickly moved the slider down to create a very cosy atmosphere.  "and let's all enjoy ourselves!  The buff-"

A commotion at the door made Delia and everybody else crane their necks to see what was going on.  A rather overweight man and his far slimmer wife were standing in the door, looking flushed and sweaty.  The man's tie had been shoved to the right and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone.

"Hi, Allan!" someone shouted.

"The bleedin' car got a bleedin' flat!" Allan Enfield groaned, looking around like he was searching for something.  "Did we miss the buffet?!" he continued, hurrying over to the nearest available chair while mopping his brow.

"No, you haven't, Allan," Delia said.  "I was about to say that the buffet is now open!"

A chorus of cheers rose from the guests and they all shot up from their chairs to go over to the buffet cart and the refrigerator. On the surface, Delia smiled at the comical sight, but deep down, she was terribly disappointed that Vicky wasn't there.

Cathy noticed her sister's long face and she walked around the horseshoe to offer her some comfort. "Something wrong, sis?" she said, putting a hand on Delia's elbow.

"Oh… no. No, I was just hoping that… that a girl from my old class would have been here. Oh, well. Perhaps she's busy," Delia said and walked over to stand in the line snaking its way back from the buffet cart.

-*-*-*-

Thirty minutes later, the reunion party was in full swing - and in high spirits - to the crispy backdrop of the Eurythmics' Be Yourself Tonight-album when a figure in a dark overcoat appeared in the doorway to the hall.  After going back to the cloakroom to leave the coat, the figure walked into the hall completely unnoticed by her former classmates.

The figure went over to the buffet cart and took a plate and some cutlery. After pausing at the greasy Cumberland sausages and the dark brown roast beef, the woman scooped up a large spoonful of mixed salad and put several black olives on top. Grabbing a carbonated mineral water from the refrigerator, she made her way around the horseshoe, walking past several empty chairs while seemingly searching for one person in particular.

Delia had been busy catching up with her old classmates, enjoying a glass of chilled white wine and a full plate of cold cuts and potato salad. She had just finished talking to Allan - who had turned out to be more entertaining than she remembered him to be - when a dark figure placed a chair on the wrong side of the horseshoe and sat down.

Sticking her fork into a potato drenched in dressing and wondering who in the world the new person was, Delia got the shock of her life when the other woman moved her face into the battery-powered lamp's cone of light.

The fork never made it all the way to Delia's mouth but got stuck roughly halfway there, suspended in mid-air as Delia's hand froze. The dressing began to drip off the drenched potato, eventually joined on the plate by the potato itself.

"Hello, Del," the other woman said in the husky voice Delia remembered so well - mostly from reality, but also from a few fairly raunchy fantasies she'd had over the years.

"Oh… my… God…" Delia breathed, putting the fork down on the plate. "Vicky… I'm… you are… God!"

Vicky Baxter was wearing a dark blue pinstriped trouser suit over an ivory blouse with a plunging neckline that gave plenty of opportunity to look at her chest and the very top of her cleavage. A thin leather necklace with a gold pendant graced her throat, and she had two, small, gold-and-dark-blue studs in her ears.

Vicky had always been one of the youngest in the class, and even now at thirty-seven, she looked a decade younger than most of the others. Her hair, typically spiky and cut very short in the old days, had turned into a voluminous, honey-blonde fleece that framed her delicate, elfin-like features perfectly.

"Remember me?" Vicky said; her emerald green eyes sparkling with glee over Delia's reaction.

"Uh… yes. Yes, I do.  My God, Vicky, you look… look… uh, you've turned into a very attractive woman," Delia said and took a long swig from her wine. The logic of the sentence soon caught up with her, and she clamped her hand across her mouth in embarrassment.  "Uh, not that you weren't attractive when you were a teenager, you know… ha, ha," she continued in a croaky voice.

"Thank you. You look dashing yourself, Del.  It's certainly been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has. We haven't seen each other since the day we left school in June 1988," Delia breathed. 'But I never stopped thinking about you,' she continued in her mind.

"That sounds about right."

"Yes, your parents moved away soon after. Before we even had time to say a proper goodbye," Delia said, feeling that her head was swimming; not just from the fatigue and the wine she'd had, but from the near-surreal experience of sitting opposite a woman she hadn't seen in twenty years.

A horrible thought entered Delia's mind and she quickly reached below the table to pinch her thigh. When Vicky didn't vanish into thin air, she breathed a sigh of relief and took a new swig from the wine.

"Yeah, I remember it well. And then I fell ill for the tenth anniversary get-together.  All in all, it's been a while," Vicky said and leaned forward to put her elbows on the table.

Then blue locked onto green, sending a pleasantly warm wave rushing through Delia's body. At that moment, she knew that nothing short of a nuclear blast would be able to tear her attention away from Vicky's green orbs.

After keeping eye contact for nearly half a minute, Vicky broke out into a charming, crooked grin that made her already pretty face obtain a movie star-like quality. Grinning, she stuck her fork into her salad and began to eat.

Delia gulped several times and took a long swig from her wine to settle down from the giddy heights she had found herself at only moments earlier.  When she wanted to pour herself a new glass, she realised that she had emptied the bottle all by herself.

"Vicky… would you like to have something else to drink other than mineral water?" Delia said, rising from her chair.

"No, thank you. I'm fine," Vicky replied, popping one of the black olives into her mouth.  Delia just caught a fleeting glimpse of a pink tongue pulling the olive inside, but by association, it was enough to make her knees knock. Clearing her throat nervously, she pushed her chair back and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

---

Upon her return to the horseshoe holding a new bottle of white wine, Delia saw to her great annoyance that Evelyn Rhodes had discovered that Vicky had turned up. The easily excitable woman practically sat in Vicky's lap as they shared a trip down memory lane, and Delia felt a pang of something she grudgingly recognised as jealousy.

Grumbling to herself, she walked around the horseshoe and sat down at the seat where her plate was. After pouring herself a new glass of white wine, she picked up her fork and quickly wolfed down the remaining food.

Pushing the plate away, Delia dabbed her mouth on a napkin and leaned back in the chair. After a few seconds, she began to observe the honey-blonde woman sitting opposite her.

Over the years, Delia had thought a great deal about the kisses she and Vicky had shared that evening at the party - in fact, she felt that those kisses had opened her eyes to who and what she really was; that they had started a process that had culminated nearly four years later when she finally came out to her parents and her sister.

'But how does Vicky view those kisses?  Were they just meant to be a small escapade at a drunken party, or were they meant seriously…?  That look we shared before… God, that look gave me the biggest buzz I've had in years…'

Evelyn eventually gave Vicky a small hug and moved out into the semi-darkness. Vicky soon turned back to her salad and resumed eating, occasionally sending Delia a few sly looks.

Up on the stage, Be Yourself Tonight faded out, and Henry the Hit Machine put on something a bit more lightweight, Madonna's True Blue album from 1986. Most people cheered, but there were one or two groans, leading to more laughs - some things never changed.

Delia felt a strong need to reconnect with Vicky, but just as she opened her mouth to speak to her, another of their old classmates, Elizabeth Stewart, appeared out of the semi-darkness to greet the honey-blonde beauty.

Sighing, Delia leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. Soon, she had worked herself into such a world class pout that she didn't even notice Cathy tapping on her shoulder.

"Sis!" Cathy said into Delia's ear, making Delia twitch and turn around.

"Whut?!  Cathy?  Something wrong?"

"You're pouting like someone stole your last lollipop. Time to fess up, sis. What's bothering you?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"All right. If you say so…?"

"I do. It's nothing."

"Hmmm. I'm not convinced. Anyway, there's still some cold cuts left. Do you want me to fetch you a second helping?" Cathy said and put a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"No, thank you, I'm just fine, Cathy.  Thank you for caring."

Smiling, Cathy turned around to get back to her husband. At the other side of the table, Elizabeth gave Vicky a goodbye-hug and moved away.  Delia perked up, hoping it meant that she'd finally get a chance to talk to Vicky… but then Geoffrey Hutchins put his indispensable can of beer down on the table, gave Delia's back a big slap with his meaty hand and began to speak to her.

Delia knew it would be terribly rude of her to ignore Geoffrey - and it was a class reunion, after all - so she sighed inwardly and turned around in her chair to talk to her old classmate who had already become slightly inebriated.

---

Ten minutes later, the stars finally aligned and both Delia and Vicky were left alone. Pushing away her empty plate, Vicky leaned forward to get just a little bit closer to Delia.

"Del, I know you've probably said it half a dozen times already tonight, but I didn't want to eavesdrop. What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, that's all right, Vicky.  I'm a broker in a shipping company called Braithwaite Worldwide. I stay on top of where our containers are and establish contact between clients… that sort of thing. All over the world, really."

"Sounds exciting. Do you speak several languages, then?"
"Well… I don't want to brag, but yes."

"Like?"

"We have a lot of business in Hamburg so I speak German pretty fluently, and a little bit of French and some Spanish," Delia said, smoothing out a non-existent crease in the tablecloth.

"I find that very sexy, Del," Vicky purred.

Delia's finger froze solid and she looked up at Vicky to see if the honey-blonde woman was making fun of her.  The look on Vicky's face told another story, and it immediately sent a warm buzz travelling through Delia's system.

"Ah, uh… well…"

"I'm a book illustrator," Vicky said with a smile, pouring the last of her mineral water into a small glass.

"Oh, really?   That's right, you were always carrying a sketchbook, weren't you?"

"Yes!  Yes, I was.  I still have most of them, apart from one or two that were lost when we moved."

"Oh… what kind of books do you do?  Children's literature?"  Delia said, putting her elbows on the table and leaning forward. She felt an urge to take Vicky's hands in her own, but at the same time, she knew it would be wildly inappropriate.

"I've done most things… children's literature, a reissue of the complete Sherlock Holmes, a few biographies… I'm using VIX as my signature. Perhaps you've seen some of my work?"

"I'm sorry, Vicky, I have very little time to read b-" Delia said, stopping abruptly when she remembered seeing that signature in a book that was as far removed from Sherlock Holmes as was humanly possible.  "Wait a minute…? VIX?" she croaked.

"Yes."

Delia moved even further across the table, prompting Vicky to do the same.

"You worked on 'The Single Woman's One-Handed Guide to a Better Sex Life', didn't you?" Delia whispered hoarsely.

Vicky grinned cheekily and let out a laugh that was so saucy it made Delia's nape hairs stand on edge.  "Yes, I did.  Do you have a copy of that?"

Stunned, Delia nodded like in a trance.

"That was a fun book to work on.  I was particularly proud of the talking bearded clam," Vicky said and drained her mineral water.

Delia just blinked, remembering the illustration - it had been drawn in a style that was supposed to invoke a sense of the slightly ridiculous movies they had watched in Sex Education in school.  "God, I remember that one. The caption said… what was it…  oh, 'treat me with respect and I'll give you a lifetime's worth of pleasure.' "

"Exactly!" Vicky said and laughed again.

"Unbelievable…"

"Well, I have to admit it's not the illustration people usually remember."

"I'll bet," Delia said, still thinking about the unusual image.

For a few heartbeats, the music and the din of the other guests came between the two women, making Delia lean back in the seat, too chicken to go ahead with the plan of taking Vicky's hands in her own.

When Vicky started looking around, Delia thought that the green-eyed beauty was getting bored with her. She began to bite her lip, trying to come up with something intelligent that would keep her dream girl at her table.

"I've kept a few drawings of you, actually.  From my old sketchbooks," Vicky suddenly said, putting her hand on top of Delia's.

To Delia, the physical contact made her feel like she had been struck by lightning - electricity swept through her system, going up, down, left and right until it finally pooled at the lowest part of her stomach. A warm tingle spread out simultaneously from her hand and her centre, sending a nice, warm shiver down her back.

"Uh… really?" Delia croaked, using her free hand to reach for her glass. She took a long swig from the white wine to cool down, but Vicky's hand continued to rest on top of hers, making it a futile exercise.

"Yes. I hope you're not freaked out by that…?   You face suggests that you are," Vicky said, cocking her head.

"Oh, no-no-no-no-no, it's all right. I think it's cute, actually.  Uh… uh, so… so you draw people as well?"  Delia said to get back to safe ground.

"Oh, yes."

"Do you think it would be possible for you to make a drawing of my sister and her husband?  Perhaps from their wedding photo?  It's my sister's birthday next month, and I'd like to give her a unique present."

"Oh, that's a fabulous idea, Del!  That's so sweet!" Vicky said and broke out in a very broad smile that once again transformed her face.  Smiling, she started moving her thumb across the back of Delia's hand in a simple, yet affectionate gesture.

"Wh-what's your regular rate?" Delia croaked, feeling that Vicky's soft touch was setting the skin on the back of her hand on fire.

"Oh, please!  Do you really think I would charge an old friend?  Come on, Del!" Vicky said with a laugh.

When Vicky's hand finally moved away from Delia's, Delia quickly leaned back in her seat and put her hands on her thighs to keep them as far away from the honey-blonde temptress as possible.  "Okay. I can mail you a copy of the photo… if you're not too busy, of course…?"

"I'm not particularly busy right now. And besides, I always have room for something like that."

Delia nodded, licking her lips.  She had no idea what to say or do, but the thought that she would keep in touch with Vicky warmed her heart.

Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine faded down the Madonna album before it was over, making everyone turn around to see what the DJ was doing.

Jean Cresswell, the only one of their old teachers who had wanted to attend the reunion party, stepped up on the stage and tapped her index finger on the microphone, creating a wild screech that made everyone cover their ears.

"Oh…!  It works. Splendid.  I have written a short speech…" Jean said, holding up two closely written pages that sent a ripple of sighs through the guests who vividly remembered similar events in the past.  "… that I would like to recite to you.  However, my eyesight isn't as good as it once was, so I would like to have a bit more light, please," she continued.

At once, Brian rose from his chair and went over to the light panel. Moving the slider upwards, he quickly found a level that the retired teacher could read by.

Jean quickly sent Brian a polite smile and began to shuffle her papers.  "Thank you.  All right. Ahem.  Twenty years ago, when we said goodbye on the last day of school, I'm sure that some… or maybe even most of you… felt elated to finally get away from that stuffy old bat Miss Cresswell.  Well, children, have you considered that you are as old now as I was back then?"

Embarrassed snickers filled the hall, even from Delia and Vicky who had been as guilty of thinking that as all the others.

"Yes, it's true, I was thirty-nine on that June day all those years ago. Now, at fifty-nine, it pleases me tremendously to see that you look exactly like I did back then."

"The clothes are different!" someone shouted from the back row.

"Ah, yes, but do you really think I wore a starched skirt in my spare time?" Jean Cresswell said strongly, earning herself a round of laughter.

"Back on topic: The young, slightly scruffy-looking teenagers I said goodbye to twenty years ago have turned into important, respectable citizens with important, respectable jobs.  That makes me proud because I like to think that I had a hand in shaping you, or at least showing you how to break into the careers you wanted to pursue."

'That's very true,' Delia thought. 'Miss Cresswell really did teach me a lot of important things.  I wonder if I should tell her that I had a crush on her…? Nah, I better not… it would only freak her out.'

"…lia, would you please come to the stage?" Jean Cresswell said.

Delia snapped out of her thoughts and looked around with a foggy expression on her face, not sure if her name had been mentioned or not.

After a few seconds had gone by without any activity whatsoever, Jean Cresswell cleared her throat and went back to the microphone.  "Perhaps the old girl has fallen asleep?" she said, prompting a huge laugh from all the guests, Vicky included.

Scrunching up her face, Delia rose from her chair and walked around the horseshoe to get to the small flight of stairs. On her way there, her old classmates began to clap, cheer and shout her name, a gesture that left her face beetroot-red. Once she was next to her old teacher on the stage, she thrust her hands into her pockets to feel a modicum of comfort.

Unfortunately, the first words out of Jean Cresswell's mouth were: "Hands out of your pockets, please, Delia," which brought on a new round of laughter.

"No, seriously," the teacher continued.  "Let's hear it for Delia. She has worked tirelessly to make this evening a memorable one.  Delia Corbett, Ladies and Gentlemen."

Delia's former classmates all whistled, cheered and applauded her, almost blowing the roof off the village hall.  As the cheers died down, someone stole the moment by whistling a wolf call that rang out loud and clear.

Raising an eyebrow, Delia looked from one person to the next, trying to figure out who the whistler had been. Her eyes soon fell on Vicky who sat with an expression on her face that wouldn't have looked out of place on a little devil.

Chuckling, Delia waved to her former classmates and then made her way back down the stairs with her arm hooked inside Jean Cresswell's.  At the same time, Brian turned the lights back down and Henry resumed playing the Madonna album.

After making sure that Miss Cresswell was seated comfortably, Delia went back to her own chair and sat down with a bump. Snatching a napkin, she dabbed her damp sweaty forehead, neck and throat. As she crumpled it up and threw it away, she noticed that Vicky was leaning against the table, still wearing the same cheeky grin.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you too much," Vicky said, offering Delia a fresh napkin.

"Oh, no. It's all right."

Vicky made a sweeping gesture with her hand and leaned in towards Delia.  "Do you think they know?"

"About what, exactly?"

"That you and I like girls?"

Delia bit her bottom lip, needing a few moments to allow Vicky's words to sink in.

"So you do like girls?" she said hoarsely, putting her hands up on the table and hoping that Vicky would hold them again.

"Yes. Ever since day one.  I'm not mistaken, am I?  I could see it in your eyes when we spoke before, but you know, sometimes that doesn't mean anything."

"You're not mistaken," Delia said quietly.  Taking a deep breath, she reached out for Vicky's hands and took them in her own. Vicky didn't pull back, something that Delia was grateful for.  "They certainly know about me… I was in the spotlight at the last reunion party. You… I doubt it."

Giving Delia's hands a small squeeze, Vicky licked her lips and leaned in even further. "Are you seeing someone?"

Delia just shook her head.

"Me, neither."

"Oh, I find that very hard to believe, Vicky. Here you are, looking like you've just stepped out of a fashion magazine…" - Delia paused - "…or my wettest dream…" she added under her breath.
"Thank you.  Well, it's true."

"The ladies don't know what they're missing…" Delia said, shaking her head.

Vicky laughed out loud and gave Delia's hands another little squeeze.  "Oh, Del! I could say the same thing about you.  Look at you!  Twenty years ago, you were all arms and legs, but now… now, you're a very attractive woman."

"Thanks, Vicky. I think you've had too much mineral water, though."

"Mmmm. You know, a girl like me could very easily fall for a girl like you," Vicky said, locking her green eyes onto Delia's blue ones.

"Oh, good heavens…!" Delia said, laughing nervously.

"I meant every word, Del."

Delia's laughter soon died away when she realised that Vicky was being deadly serious.  'I've waited twenty years to find out if those kisses she gave me were real… I guess they were.  God, could it be…?  Could we really be meant for each other…?  Oh, for goodness' sakes, Del, don't be a fool!  This sort of thing only happens in pulp novels.'

"The way people are reacting around us, I'd say the food has run out. Do you want to come over to the lounge and have a drink and a chat, Del?" Vicky said, tickling the back of Delia's hands.

Rendered speechless by the surprising direction her thoughts were taking her, Delia just shrugged and got up from the chair.

"Oh, I'd love to, Vicky, but I can't right now. I need to help my sister and her husband collect the dishes. They belong to the caterer and they'll charge us extra if we haven't gathered them up," she said with a half-smile.

"Ohhh… All right…"

"But, tell you what, I'll meet you over there in ten minutes. Okay?"

"Sure.  I'll keep a seat warm for you," Vicky said, adding a wink. She got up from her chair and joined the group of people who were all jostling for a place in the two couch arrangements.

Delia kept standing at her place at the horseshoe, looking dreamily at Vicky's rather healthy shape as it moved into the semi-darkness - at her golden hair, her petite, but fit, frame, her wonderfully sculpted rear end and the two-inch heels she was wearing.

Licking her lips, Delia found herself wishing that something would indeed grow between herself and Vicky. 'It doesn't even need to be a relationship in the classic sense… I'd be perfectly happy just to see her once in a while… at least, more often than once every twenty years…'

"The bar is open, let the Cocktail Hour begin!" someone shouted from the bar cabinet next to the couch arrangements, quickly followed by a loud cheer from the guests.

Chuckling, Delia began to collect the dirty dishes, hoping to do it as quickly as possible so she could get back to Vicky.

---

Fifteen minutes later, the buffet cart had been unplugged, cleared out and wiped down, and the used glasses and dishes had been put into specially designed plastic boxes.

As Delia was wiping her hands on a towel, Allan Enfield and his wife came up to her. The large man held out his arms and dragged Delia into a crushing bear hug that left her quite winded.

"Thanks for everything, Del, it's been a fantastic evening. Me and the missus need to go home now, we only booked the baby sitter until ten.  Can't leave junior alone for too long, eh?" Allan said, thumping Delia's shoulder.

"Well, we haven't heard any fire engines yet, so I'm sure he and your house are safe," Delia joked, much to Allan's amusement.

"Har!  Well, here's hoping!   Anyway, let's try to stay in touch, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. I have your email address."

"Excellent.  Thanks again, Del.  It's been loads-a-fun," Allan said and thumped Delia's other shoulder, balancing out the stinging pain.

After Delia had waved goodbye to Allan and his wife, she went back to the buffet cart to check that everything was in good order.  Satisfied that it was, she made a beeline for the Ladies' room - the bottle of white wine she had emptied was causing her bladder to send out a distress call.

---

Once Delia returned to the lounge, she noted to her disappointment that all the seats had been taken. Vicky was involved in a cheerful conversation with Evelyn and Miss Cresswell, and even Geoffrey - holding his indispensable can of beer - was chatting with another old classmate, Julian Thompson and his wife.
Shrugging, Delia moved over to stand behind the couch Geoffrey was sitting in and put her hands on the backrest. She was able to pick up a few words of the conversation, and one in particular caught her interest - 'Vicky'.

Geoffrey, noting that Delia was standing behind him, shuffled to his left and patted the seat next to him.  "Come on, luv. We need your professional opinion on a very important topic."

"Uh, okay," Delia said and walked around the couch.

"Beer?" Geoffrey said as Delia sat down.

"No, thank you. I've had wine."

"Ugh, I can't stand that. Anyway, me and Julian were talking… and Julian's wife Suzie thinks so, too, by the way…" Geoffrey said and pointed at a pretty twenty-something brunette who was practically sitting on Julian's lap  "… that our old classmate Vicky has, how shall I put it, grown since we saw her last."

"Grown?"

"Uh-huh," Geoffrey quipped, cupping his hands in front of his chest.

Delia furrowed her brow and looked across the lounge at Vicky who was still talking with their old teacher.  Looking closer, Delia could see what Geoffrey meant. Licking her lips, she shrugged and turned back to the group she was with.  "Possibly."

"Oh, there's no doubt about it.  They're fakes.  She's had a boob job," Julian's wife Suzie said.  Suzie was quite well-endowed herself - wearing a bright red, rather deeply cut V-neck blouse - and Delia had to bite back a comment about the apparent fakeness of the woman's own chest.

"I wasn't aware that you knew Vicky from school, Suzie?"  Delia said in a steely voice that almost betrayed the temper bubbling up inside her.

"Oh, no, I don't… but Julian has shown me a lot of your old school photographs. She was definitely smaller then."

"She was a teenager then, you know."

"Oh, sure, but still…"

"Mmmm," Delia said and grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl.  'I'd like to see *your* old school photographs, brat.  Who cares if Vicky has had something done.  She looks bloody fantastic.'

To her left, Geoffrey drained the last drops out of the Carlsberg and let out a resounding belch.  Delia took that as her cue and left the couch.

"Oi, Del, darling… wouldya mind fetching me a new beer?"

'Get it yourself, you miserable drunken lout,' Delia thought, but somehow managed to screw a smile on her lips.  "I'll see what I can do, Geoffrey."

"Thanks, luv."

---

Once Delia had delivered a new beer to Geoffrey, she made her way over to Vicky. The honey-blonde beauty was still talking to Jean Cresswell, but Delia dearly wanted to connect with her, so she sat down on the armrest of a couch opposite the two women, determined to wait for her turn.

She had never seen Miss Cresswell so loose and relaxed, and she started wondering if the rumours floating around the school back then had been true - that her old teacher was one of 'those' women.  'God, what a horrible way to put it… why can't people just accept that we are who we are.  Why does everyone insist on putting some condescending label on us?'

When Jean Cresswell happened to look up and lock eyes with Delia, all doubt was erased in Delia's mind, and she sent her old teacher a knowing smile.

Jean returned the smile and patted Vicky's hand.  "Well, I've had a wonderful evening, but now it's bedtime for us old girls," she said and got up.

"Oh, not already, Miss Cresswell, it's only a little past ten!" Vicky said, putting down a drink and getting up from the couch.

"I'm afraid so, Vicky.  I need to get home to my family."

"Well, goodbye, Miss Cresswell," Delia said and pulled her old teacher into a warm embrace. "Seeing you tonight brought back a lot of memories. Not to mention that it was a lot of fun. "

"I agree, Delia.  And… well, perhaps we could meet on a rainy Sunday afternoon for a cuppa and a chat?  The three of us…?"  Jean said, looking at both Delia and Vicky.

"Sounds like a great idea in my opinion," Vicky said, wearing a broad grin.

Delia nodded enthusiastically.  "And mine. Get home safely, Miss Cresswell.  Do you want me to walk you to your car?"

"Young lady, I'm perfectly capable of putting one foot ahead of the other. I'm not that old!  And with that, children, I bid you farewell."

"How about a compromise, Miss Cresswell?  I'll walk you to the cloakroom to give you a proper send-off," Delia said with a smile.

"All right. But only because it's you," Jean said, returning the smile.

A few minutes later, Delia came back and sat down next to Vicky who had opened a bottle of white wine in the meantime.

After pouring wine into a glass, Vicky leaned back and crossed her legs. Cocking her head, she shot Delia a devious gaze that was almost an invitation to mischief.

Delia didn't know how to respond to that look, so she settled for grabbing a handful of peanuts.

Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine faded down the album he had been playing - Nik Kershaw's The Riddle - and turned on his microphone.

"Ladies and gents, it's coming!  In fifteen minutes, this hall will be turned into a pukka disco!  And!  It will be sent back in time!  Back!  Back to the eighties!  Stand by for pop!"  he said, yanking his effects slider up and down to distort his voice - well, that was the plan, anyway. In reality, it sounded like a child messing around with a £10 synthesiser. Once he had made his announcement, he continued playing the album.

"Can I tempt you to dance a little later on?" Vicky said.

"Oh, I'm not the world's greatest dancer.  My legs tend to get in the way," Delia said with a shrug.

"That's a deal, then."

"Oh, but…"

"We dance. End of discussion," Vicky said, tapping her knuckles on Delia's knee.

"Well… okay. But you need to watch your toes."

"I'll be careful.  Del… what was it Geoffrey said about me before?  I noticed that you gave me a thorough look when you were talking to him."

Delia's face was instantly covered by a deep red blush, and she looked away, unable to hold Vicky's intense gaze.  "Oh, he was just being Geoffrey."

"I have an inkling what it might have been about. The answer is yes, I did have something done."

"Vicky…" Delia said in a monotone.

"No, it's all right.  On my twenty-first birthday, I decided that I no longer wanted to resemble an ironing board… and I had them enlarged. I've never regretted it, in fact, it was the best thing I could have done. It gave my self-confidence a tremendous boost and it made me blossom as a woman," Vicky said, flicking her hair back from her face.

"Please, Vicky, I'm not judging you."

"I know you're not, but Geoffrey definitely was. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you the truth so you didn't have to rely on half-baked fantasies from the men's room," Vicky said and took Delia's hands in her own.

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. Isn't it strange how people instantly revert to their old personalities?  Look at them, it's as if the twenty years didn't happen at all."

"I know exactly what you mean," Delia said, looking at her former classmates.

"The only difference is that twenty years ago, we all smoked… and now, hardly anyone does."

"At least we got smarter on that account," Delia said with a laugh.

Humming along to the song the DJ was playing, Vicky started toying with Delia's long digits; pulling and squeezing them, and running the tips of her fingers up the outside and down the inside. Once the fingers had been thoroughly teased, she rolled Delia's shirt sleeve up and moved her hand up Delia's right arm, sliding her knuckles across the pulse point at the wrist before moving further upwards.

This sweet torture sent wave after wave of pleasure and heat through Delia, and she had to slam her mouth shut to stop an embarrassing moan from escaping her lips. After a minute or so of squirming in her seat, she couldn't take it anymore and put her hand on Vicky's to still her movements.

"Vicky, please… it's… it's not that I don't like it, but… someone might look at us, and…"

"If they do, they'll see two old friends playing with each other's fingers," Vicky whispered into Delia's ear.

"God, please, Vicky, this is so unreal…  I've dreamt of it, but… it isn't the right time. I'm sorry," Delia said and removed Vicky's hand from her arm.

"All right."

After taking several deep breaths to calm down, Delia turned to face Vicky. Her eyes immediately sought out the blonde's emerald green orbs, her cute button nose and, most importantly, her graceful lips.  Feeling her mouth go bone dry, Delia had to mentally slap herself silly to resist diving down and claiming those lips in a searing kiss.

Vicky grinned, seemingly reading Delia's mind.  "Hold that thought. I need to go to the Ladies' room," she said and got up from the couch.

Delia could only nod, not quite believing the unexpected twists and turns the evening had thrown at her.  'I've been dreaming about this very moment for more than twenty years… and now that it's here, I balk!  Of course, I wasn't planning on having an audience…' she thought, looking at the other guests.

Bringing a fresh breeze and a few drops of rain with her from the outside, Cathy put a half-smoked cigarette into a crumpled pack and sat down next to her sister. After a short while, she started staring at the comical expression on Delia's face.

"What's with you, sis?" Cathy sad, leaning in to put a hand on Delia's thigh.

"Huh?"

"You have a strange look on your face. Are you drunk?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what?  I'm all ears if you want to dish some gossip," Cathy said and snuggled up next to her sister.

"You are far, far too young to understand what we adults are up to," Delia said in a maternal voice, moving a lock of hair behind Cathy's ear.

"Oh, puh-lease!  Did you forget that I'm the only one of us who has a sex life?"

"God, Cathy!" Delia said, making a horrified face.

"Tell me what's up between you and Vicky or I'll tell you all about what Brian and I do when we want to have a little fun!" Cathy whispered, adding a saucy wink.

"One more word out of you and it's off to bed without dinner," Delia threatened, but even to her own ears, it sounded pathetic.

"Well…?"

"We were just… just…" Delia said, shrugging.  "Nothing much, just…"

"Oh, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do, actually."

"Sis, while you were busy moving the plates over to the buffet cart, Vicky came to me and asked a few questions about you."

"Oh…?"  Delia leaned forward; her interest suddenly piqued.

"She asked if I knew what you thought of her."

"And you said…?" Delia said in her patented flat monotone.

"I told her that you were cuh-razy about her," Cathy said with a juvenile snicker.

"Oh, Cathy!" Delia said and slapped her forehead with an audible *smack*.

"You are!  Don't try to deny it, I can see it all over your face when you look at her."

"Cathy, I'm thirty-eight years old and, believe it or not, I do know my way around these things. I don't need you to play matchmaker, okay?"

"Fine, fine… but don't growl at me tonight when we drive home… alone… again."

"I won't 'cos you and Brian will be walking!"  Delia said and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hm!" Cathy said and stomped off towards the other end of the lounge.

"Hm," Delia echoed, grabbing a handful of peanuts.

---

Not long after, Henry the Hit Machine once again faded down the album he was playing and began to fiddle with the effects slider.

"Ladies and gents, it's now!  It's here!  We're back!  Back in the eighties!" he said, cueing Europe's The Final Countdown.  Moments later, he activated the spotlights, creating a wall of dancing blue, green, red and yellow lights on both sides of the stage.

At the same time, Brian worked the slider for the hall's lights, turning it so far down that the light levels were reduced to a greyish-brown haze that made the spotlights stand out even more.

Most of the guests cheered and hurried over to the makeshift dance floor that was located between the stage and the horseshoe. Once the song's long intro was over, they began to wiggle and jump about to the cheesy classic.

Still sitting in the couch, Delia groaned loudly over Henry's choice of music, but couldn't keep her foot from tapping the beat.  "Oh, this is too gruesome! I didn't even like that song when it was new!" she said out loud to no one in particular.

Without warning, Vicky came tearing back through the hall, grabbed Delia's hands and pulled her to her feet.

"Come on!  It's the Final Countdown!" she said, forcibly dragging the reluctant Delia out to the dance floor.  "Follow my lead," she continued, planting both hands on Delia's sides.

At first, Delia groaned wildly in protest, but before long - to her great surprise - her hips began to move on their own accord, and she was soon dancing to the best of her ability.

---

Thirty minutes later, Delia leaned against the refrigerator - flushed and sweaty, but enjoying herself.  Taking one of the last bottles of mineral water from the shelf, she quickly unscrewed the cap and drained half of it in one gulp.

Vicky stood next to her, still gently wiggling back and forth to the beat of Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

"Some water?" Delia said and held out the bottle, but Vicky just shook her head, making her honey-blonde locks fall around her face.

"Deliaaaaa!  Come dance with me!" Evelyn said, practically throwing herself into Delia's arms.

"Oh, but-"

"No, come on, it'll be fun, just like old times!  Come on!"  Evelyn said and pulled Delia away from the refrigerator.

At the very last second before she was manhandled onto the dance floor, Delia managed to hand Vicky the bottle of mineral water, earning herself a broad grin and a thumbs-up.

As Frankie's Relax segued into Two Tribes, Evelyn grabbed Delia's hands and began to swing the two of them around and around. Once they had made three complete revolutions, the excitable woman really got down to business, snaking and wiggling back and forth like she was some kind of reincarnated go-go dancer. Occasionally, she moved in to bump hips with Delia, but she mostly kept a safe distance.

Delia couldn't help being infected by Evelyn's enthusiasm and she tried really hard to follow the wildly gyrating woman, but she soon found herself falling further and further behind.

"God, Evelyn!  Slow down, will you…  I can't keep up!" Delia said, panting heavily, but to no avail - Evelyn just kept going at full speed.

Almost giving up, Delia suddenly felt an arm move around her waist, quickly followed by the rest of Vicky.  The intense look in the blonde's eyes made Delia gulp nervously, but, curiously enough, feel safe at the same time.

Vicky moved in close, so close in fact that their fronts were touching. Placing her hands on Delia's rear end, she gave the two globes a little squeeze before beginning to shimmy left and right. Going slowly at first, she soon increased the speed of the movements until they matched the rhythm of the song.

The closeness of the dance and the sly grin on Vicky's face made Delia's heart rate pick up and her temperature rise exponentially.  Unsure of what to do with her hands, she put them on Vicky's shoulders, but an unhappy pout on Vicky's face made Delia move them further and further down until they eventually covered the blonde's perfectly sculpted rear end.

Evelyn suddenly noticed that her dancing partner had moved away from her, and she boogied around in a circle to find her.  When she saw Delia and Vicky dancing closely, her face lit up and she let out a loud squeal.

"Group hug!" she howled and threw herself at the two closely entangled women, pushing them several steps sideways and nearly knocking them over.

"Ugh!  No!  Uh!  Evelyn!" Delia croaked, trying to shuffle around on the spot to break free of Evelyn's bear hug.  Her hands were trapped on Vicky's bum and she just knew it would only be a matter of time before Julian or his wife - or worse, Geoffrey - would see them.

Vicky just laughed out loud, seemingly loving every moment of the hug and Delia's predicament.  Suddenly finding space under Evelyn's arms, she managed to duck out of the way and sneak away from the two hugging women.

"I wish I had a camera. This should be kept for posterity," she said into Delia's ear, taking a step back to get the full picture of Evelyn squeezing Delia for all she was worth while her neatly styled hairdo was buried deep into the nook of Delia's throat.

"Heh…"

"Oh, Delia, I can't tell you how happy I am that you organised the reunion this time.  It's been such a smashing evening!  Far, far better than the last time. Oh, that was so dreadful. Remember?  Bangers and mashed potatoes… and draught on tap! I mean, really!" Evelyn said into the top of Delia's cleavage.
Delia just bared her teeth in an amused grin and tried to roll with Evelyn's excitement.  Up on the stage, Henry segued the music into Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, causing Evelyn to let out a squeal that nearly popped Delia's eardrums.

Evelyn took a step back but kept her hands on Delia's arms.  "That's our anthem!  Del!  Let's do it!" she continued, pulling the taller woman into something resembling a wild, uninhibited tribal dance.

---

Ten minutes later, Delia plopped down into one of the couches, completely spent and looking like a well-done lobster.  She glanced longingly at the refrigerator, trying to muster up enough energy to get herself a soft drink so she could get a shot of caffeine.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Vicky was able to decipher the look and stuck an opened bottle of Schweppes Orange into Delia's hand before sitting down on the armrest.

Delia returned the smile - or tried to, at least - and moved the bottle up to her lips, draining more than half of it in one gulp.  "An hour on the treadmill is nothing compared to this…" she croaked.

"Perhaps you should step up your exercise…?"

"Perhaps I should stop dancing," Delia said and emptied the bottle. She looked around and saw to her great horror that Evelyn was once again headed for her with determined steps.

"Evelyn… please… I need a break," she said once the easily excitable woman was close enough to hear it above the music and the din of the other guests.

"And I need to go home… unfortunately.  We need to open the gift shop bright and early tomorrow," Evelyn said and sat down next to Delia.

"Oh, even on a Sunday?"

"Yes, don't forget it's the tourist season. Now is the time we earn what we spend in the winter. But I've had the time of my life tonight, Del.  Hey, remember that one?"

"Yeah, I do actually," Delia said, hoping that Evelyn wasn't about to break out into the cheesy song from Dirty Dancing.

"That's how I feel right now.  Please, please, please, Del, let's keep in touch. I'll die inside if we have to go another ten years before seeing each other again."  Allowing a small tear to run down her cheek, Evelyn grabbed Delia's hands and gave them a strong squeeze. When the gesture didn't invoke enough emotion for her, she jumped forward and threw herself at Delia, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's torso.
"Ooooof!  All right, all right…!"  Delia croaked into Evelyn's red hair, completely overpowered by the fiery woman.

"I promise that I'll stay in touch.  It's been fun, hasn't it?"  Delia continued once Evelyn had pulled back.

"It's been so much fun I can hardly believe it, Del.  Goodbye, goodnight and thanks for everything.  Goodbye, Vicky.  Hope to talk to you, too, okay?"

"Absolutely. You have my word," Vicky said and shook hands with Evelyn.

"Ta-ta everybody!" Evelyn shouted, waving to the remaining guests as she turned the corner to go into the cloakroom where her husband was already waiting.

Delia and Vicky waved back at once, chuckling over the redhead's antics and bubbly spirit.

"You know, Vicky, if I wasn't organising this bash, I'd be heading home now, too. I'm dead-tired," Delia said, trying to stifle a wide yawn.

"I know a great pick-me-up," Vicky whispered into Delia's ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on the taller woman's ear.

"Uh, you do?"  Delia said, squirming from Vicky's sweet touch.

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"You'll see in a minute. Come on, let's dance a bit more."

"Ugh, no…" Delia whinged, but allowed herself to be dragged onto the dance floor.

---

They had only danced to Electric Light Orchestra's Calling America for a few minutes when Henry the Hit Machine faded down the song and announced that the next twenty minutes would be dedicated to 'the lovers among you'.

Pressing a button, he reprogrammed the spotlights to move around slower, and then put on Air Supply's I Can't Wait Forever.

As the slow, haunting song started, Delia felt Vicky's arms sneak around her waist and pull her close.  Leaning against each other, they began to shuffle back and forth on the spot, getting the most out of the intimate moment.

"This is what I meant," Vicky said quietly, pressing her cheek up against Delia's throat. After placing a gentle kiss on Delia's collarbone, she sighed in contentment and looked up to lock eyes with the taller woman.

Some people left the dance floor when the slow tunes started, but they were quickly replaced by a handful of couples who came out to dance closely and hold each other tight - Julian and his wife among them.

Soon, Delia felt Suzie watching her constantly, no matter what she and Vicky did or where they went on the dance floor.  Eventually, Suzie's eyes were practically burning a hole in the back of Delia's head and she felt her temper starting to simmer.

The simmer was turned up to gas mark three when Delia overheard a few comments as she and Vicky happened to dance past Julian and Suzie. She hadn't been able to catch all of it, but she knew exactly what they had been talking about.

Biting her lip in frustration, her movements became more jerky and finally, the inevitable happened - she stepped on Vicky's toes.

Letting out a brief, but loud, yelp, Vicky held onto Delia's arms for support, took a half-step backwards and began to hop around on one leg.

"Oh, no, Vicky, I'm so sorry…"

"Uhhh… uhhh… I'm okay.  It could've been worse, you could've been wearing stilettos," Vicky said through clenched teeth.

"I just got frustrated and then I lost track of my feet and-"

"It's okay, but please don't do it again!"

"I won't. I'll never dance again in my life!" Delia said and turned around, but Vicky kept holding her tight.

"Now you sound like Evelyn!  Just ignore those people… I'm not done dancing with you, Delia.  The best is yet to come."

"Wha…?"

"I slipped Henry a tenner before. He's about to play our song."

"Our song…?  We have a song?  Oh… oh, you mean…?"

"Yes."

Up on the stage, Henry cued Crockett's Theme, causing a whole host of emotions to flash across Delia's face. She couldn't believe that Vicky had remembered that song - after all, it had been more than twenty years since that memorable party where they had kissed for the first time - but she was glad that she had. As the song started proper, she became so emotional that a few tears escaped her eyes and stained her shirt.

"Our song. Remember?" Vicky whispered as she leaned in and began to move left and right to the slow, enticing, electronic beat.

Delia could only nod, so overwhelmed by emotions that she was afraid that she would start to weep for real if she spoke.

As the song went on, Delia's soft, tender emotions slowly gave way to raw, pure passion. She had waited for so long for this moment, and now that it had finally arrived, her body reacted like never before.  Every look, every touch sent a wave of sizzling pleasure through her, and as Vicky leaned in to nibble on the pulse point on her neck, she thought she was going to burst into flames.

Still dancing slowly to the beat of the tune, Delia reached up and put a gentle hand on the side of Vicky's face.  Moving her thumb up and down, she caressed the honey-blonde woman's cheekbone, growing more and more passionate until she could no longer contain herself.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned down to claim Vicky's lips in a tender, loving kiss. At once, she felt Vicky respond in kind by leaning into the kiss and even trailing her tongue against Delia's lips.

Behind them, Suzie let out a surprised, even indignant, squeal, but Delia couldn't care less. She opened her mouth to let Vicky's tongue inside, and soon, the two muscles were dancing against each other, adding high-octane fuel to the fire already raging deep within her.

When Crockett's Theme faded out, Henry the Hit Machine segued into one of the other instrumentals from Miami Vice, Tubbs & Valerie, but Delia barely registered it.

The need for air eventually won out and Delia reluctantly pulled back. Sighing, she leaned in and rested her forehead against Vicky's. "Oh, sweetheart…" she whispered without knowing how Vicky would react to such a term of endearment.

Vicky's reaction was to lick her lips and break out into a charming smile. "That was a long time coming, Del," she said quietly, looking the tall woman straight in the eye.

"Yes… twenty-two years…"

Putting her arms back around Delia's waist, Vicky rested her head against the taller woman's chest and resumed dancing to the instrumental.
Behind the two women, Suzie grabbed her husband and stomped off the dance floor, mouthing obscenities all the way over to the cloakroom. After throwing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, she came back into the hall to see if Delia and Vicky were still dancing - once she had established that they were, she spun around on her high heel and left in a huff.

Delia caught some of the incident, but she refused to let it bother her. Her mind and her body were still trying to cope with the passion coursing through her, and she wasn't able to do a very good job of keeping up with Vicky's dance moves.  After a few faltering steps, she laughed nervously and shook her head. "This isn't going to work… I'm worried I'm going to step on you again if we go on.  I'm burning up, Vicky!"

Vicky licked her lips again and moved in so close that Delia could feel the blonde's pert breasts pressing into her.  "There's a remedy for that. Do you want me to put out your fire, Del?" she said quietly.

Delia opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't get a sound across her lips. Her heart rate increased again until the sound of her blood rushing past her eardrums was drowning out even the loud music coming from Henry's equipment. Breathing heavily and feeling completely engulfed in a haze of lust, Delia nodded an affirmative answer to Vicky's question.

Putting her fingers inside the waist of Delia's slacks, Vicky pulled the two of them towards the only place they would be able to find some privacy - the Ladies' room.

Once they reached the rest room, Delia pushed Vicky inside and immediately began to check the stalls. Finding that they were all empty, she locked the door to the hallway and turned around to face Vicky who was leaning against the long wash basin.

Bold, unwavering lust was written all over the honey-blonde woman's face, and the sight made Delia's insides quiver harder than ever.  Quickly closing the distance between then, Delia leaned down and claimed Vicky's lips in a bruising, uninhibited kiss that did nothing to quell the flames.

Moaning into Delia's mouth, Vicky began to grasp at the green shirt, eventually yanking it out of the slacks. Once the shirt was free, she grabbed at Delia's front and began to unbutton the slacks, moving her hands so frantically that she appeared to be afraid that she wouldn't get to feel the tall woman's skin before it was all over.

Stilling Vicky's frantic hands, Delia simply pushed her slacks down, revealing the dark green panties that graced her curvaceous hips. When the cool air hit the superheated skin on her abdomen and her thighs, she felt even more electrified and she quickly whipped off her shirt and went to work on removing Vicky's trouser suit.

The trouser suit and the ivory blouse soon joined the green shirt on the white tiles, quickly followed by a black, lacy bra.  Delia took a small step back to admire Vicky's breasts and fit, lean body, but didn't have time to do anything before Vicky had placed a warm hand on Delia's throbbing centre.

While she was running two fingers up and down the crotch of Delia's soaked panties, Vicky began to fondle her own centre, and she let out a long, husky groan that nearly made the mirror behind her crack.  "I want you… inside me, Del. Now… please…" she whispered in a hoarse voice.

The tone of Vicky's voice made Delia's nape hairs stand on edge and she looked down at once. Hooking her thumbs inside the elastic band, she pulled Vicky's lacy panties down to reveal a patch of finely cropped dark-blonde hair.

"Let's do it together… come on," Vicky husked, tugging at Delia's panties.

Delia complied by quickly pulling them down.  The thought of what they were about to do and the cool air caressing her slick folds almost made her crash over the edge before they had even started, and she couldn't stop a long sigh from escaping her lips.

Stepping forward, Delia moved her hand down to Vicky's super-slick outer folds and carefully spread them with her fingertips. As Vicky's hips pressed into her hand, she inserted first one, then two fingers into the burning hot opening, but kept them still for the time being.

Quickly using her free hand to guide Vicky's fingers down past her own dark patch of hair, she helped inserting them into her opening. The intense, swirling sensations and the blinding heat that spread through her from the sweet contact made her knees turn to pudding, but the sight of Vicky's hooded eyes and slightly parted lips gave her the impetus to carry on.

Panting heavily, Delia leaned closer to Vicky and once again claimed her lips - this time in a calm, loving kiss.  With the connection firmly established, she began to move her fingers up and down inside Vicky, stroking and exploring her velvety cavern and eventually adding a bit of pressure to Vicky's swollen bundle of nerves with her thumb.

Vicky groaned hard into Delia's mouth and began to ride the tall brunette with her fingers.  Breaking off the kiss, she sighed sensuously and began to nibble on Delia's lower lip, all the while looking deeply into the hooded baby blues to see how her lover responded to her touch.

Soon, the two women were moaning quietly, rocking back and forth up against the wash basin; pleasuring each other in perfect harmony and almost feeling like one entity.

When Delia's hips suddenly bucked on their own accord, she knew she wouldn't be able to last for much longer, and she quickly reached down to still Vicky's hand.  "I… I need a moment, baby… I don't wanna come so soon…" Delia whispered in a hoarse voice.

Nodding, Vicky stopped moving her fingers, but kept them inside Delia. A cheeky grin graced her features and she leaned forward and began to nibble on Delia's collarbone instead.  Once that spot was well-loved, she moved further down to the swell of Delia's breasts that they hadn't had time to liberate from the dark green bra.

Feeling Vicky's lips and teeth on her breasts made Delia's eyes pop wide open, and she flung her head back and let out a long, husky groan that left her throat quite raw. Every fibre in her body began to spasm and stand on edge; building up to a higher and higher crescendo that rushed through her like an avalanche.

At the exact same time, Vicky felt Delia's inner muscles quiver and clamp hard down on her fingers, prompting her to grin saucily and to resume stimulating the swollen nub with her thumb.

The results were instant - only a few seconds later, Delia came hard into Vicky's hand, bucking up against her and letting out an animal-like moan that caused Vicky to immediately follow her lover over the edge.

Moving as one, the two women bucked and groaned together, whispering sweet words of nonsense and grinding up against each other in complete, utter bliss.

"God…" Delia croaked as the tension slowly left her, only to be replaced by a warm afterglow that covered her like a blanket. Panting hard, she gently removed her fingers from Vicky's opening, marvelling at the love juices that coated them.

Chuckling, Vicky pulled Delia into a breathless embrace that soon turned into a tender hug. "That was so good, Del. Thank you…"

"You're welcome, baby.  And thank you."

"Anytime," Vicky whispered and began to nibble on Delia's ear.

"Uh!  Uh, Vicky… I…"

Suddenly someone started pounding on the door to the Ladies' room, causing Vicky and Delia to look up in shock, wearing identical, guilty expressions.

"Uh-oh, we better… uh," Delia said and hurriedly turned on one of the faucets to wipe Vicky's juices off her fingers.  Once that was done, she reached down, pulled up her panties and picked up her shirt.

"Where did my panties go?!" Vicky whispered hoarsely, looking under the wash basin for her lacy unmentionables while she was cleaning her hand.

"There!" Delia whispered, pointing at the lacy garment that had flown halfway across the room.

"How in the world did they get way over there…?"
'For Goodness' sake, will you unlock the bleedin' door!  There's a queue of women tap-dancing out here!  I'm going to get my sister if you don't come out at once!'  Cathy's voice said through the locked door.  When she still didn't get a reply, she resumed thumping her fist against the door.

Delia snickered like a schoolgirl and continued to fumble with the remaining buttons on her shirt. Once they were secure, she pulled up her slacks, leaving the green shirt hanging loose.  Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried to fluff her hair so it wouldn't look so unruly, but it was too damp to fall right.

Studying herself and Vicky, Delia could see that their faces and necks were flushed and that they both had small, red blotches on their cheeks. Vicky's honey-blonde hair was sticking out in all directions, the shoulders of her jacket weren't aligned properly and her upper lip appeared to have been quite badly bruised - all in all, they weren't exactly in tip-top condition.

This didn't stop Vicky from grabbing Delia's long arms and pulling her into a searing kiss that only ended when Cathy thumped her fist repeatedly against the door.

"We better leave," Vicky said in a hoarse voice. "I'll leave the explaining to you. She's your sister," she continued with a snicker.

"Oh, thank you… ah, she'll understand. I hope…" Delia said and moved over to the locked door.  Taking a deep breath, she pulled back the sliding bolt and depressed the handle.

Once the door was opened, Cathy and five other women barrelled into the Ladies' room, and within seconds, all five stalls were occupied.  "Well, thank you!  It's about bloomin' time…!" Cathy said before noticing that it was her sister who had been in there the whole time.

"Whut?  Sis?  What are you doing in here?  Have you been smoking?" - sniff, sniff - "Ohmygod!" she said out loud when the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.  Wide-eyed, she turned to look at Vicky who was busy putting her jacket on right.

"No, we haven't been smoking.  But we were about to burst into flames.  You know, spontaneous combustion," Delia said and winked at her sister.

"Uh-huh… in the Ladies' room…" Cathy said, stunned.

"Well, it was either here or out on the dance floor.  Vicky, are we done?" Delia said and put out her hand.

"Oh, we're well-done… for now," Vicky said and took Delia's hand.

As Delia and Vicky walked hand in hand out of the Ladies' room and into the main hall, Cathy kept standing in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the woman who may have looked like her big sister but who behaved nothing like her.
---

Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine had gone back to up-tempo songs - the original Italian version of Self Control - but neither Delia nor Vicky had enough energy left to go back to the dance floor.

Delia plopped herself down in one of the couches, leaned her head against the backrest and let out a long sigh.  Still floating on a golden cloud from her afterglow, she put a hand across the lower part of her belly, wondering if she had dreamt the whole thing.

Vicky answered that question almost at once by jumping up into the couch and kneeling on the seat next to Delia. Leaning forward, she began to play with Delia's long hair, running her fingers through it, twirling the ends and arranging it in new, outrageous hairstyles.

"Once again… thank you. It was wonderful," Vicky whispered.

"No, you were wonderful… I just came. In five minutes flat," Delia croaked.

Laughing over the undeniable truth of that statement, Vicky leaned in and began to nibble on Delia's ear.

"I can go on for a little longer, honest!  It was just… God, I was just… twenty-two years, Vicky!"

"Do you mean to tell me that you'd been saving yourself for me all those years…?"  Vicky said, letting out an amused little giggle.

"Uh… not exactly, no.   Ah, you know what I mean.  Uh, Vicky…"

"Yes…?"

"Where do we go from here?"

"Well-"

"Please tell me it wasn't just a one-night stand," Delia said with a sigh.

"It wasn't. Not if I have anything to say about it. I'm not a love 'em and leave 'em girl. Del, you may have been too hot and bothered to have noticed, but I wanted you just as badly as you wanted me."

"Oh, I noticed all right…"

"I was planning on inviting you over for an early dinner tomorrow to explain what I had in mind, but…" Vicky snickered again and kissed the side of Delia's head. "… but considering the things we've done tonight, how about making it a night cap instead…?"

"Oooh, I'd like that. I accept your invitation," Delia said and turned to face Vicky.  Moments later, their lips touched in a nice, little, loving kiss. Once they separated, they kept their heads together, just enjoying the close company of each other.

"Hey, it would give me an opportunity to show you that I'm not a Minute Girl," Delia continued, breaking out in an embarrassed snicker that soon claimed Vicky as well.

"Sounds good to me.  I have one or two things of my own I'd like to show you," Vicky said, putting her hand on Delia's thigh.

"You mean… I didn't get to see everything before?" Delia said, caressing the back of Vicky's hand.

"Baby… you haven't seen anything yet," Vicky replied in a husky voice so full of sizzling promise that Delia felt she had been zapped by a high-voltage cable.

---

"Look at those two… what on Earth is going on with your sister tonight?" Brian said from the dance floor.

Cathy turned around and looked at her sister and Vicky who were obviously so deeply into each other that the world could have gone under without either of them noticing.

"It's love, Brian. Remember that?"

"Oh, but I love you, darling. Don't you believe me when I say that?"

Before Cathy had time to answer, she and Brian had to take a few shuffling steps sideways to make way for Geoffrey who stumbled across the dance floor in a drunken stupor, headed for the Men's room.

"Of course I do," Cathy said after a little while.

"Hm."

"It's just… well, a bit different for us because we need to think about the car insurance and pay off the forty-eight inch flatscreen television set and the mortgage on the house and keep the appointments at the vet for Tiger's shots and… God.  There's no time for romance… for passion… for…" - '… for doing the wild thing in the bathroom.  When was the last time Brian made love to me outside the bedroom…?  Hmmm.  Never,' Cathy thought, making a disappointed face.

Sighing, Cathy pulled Brian to the side to allow Geoffrey to pass the other way. Once the drunken man had stumbled past them, they shuffled back into the centre of the dance floor.

"Well, that's true, but it was our own choice to get those things, darling. Your sister has most of those things, too, but no one to share them with. That's got to be worse," Brian said, pulling his wife closer to him.

Cathy furrowed her brow, surprised by her husband's uncharacteristic depth. Just as she opened her mouth to reply, Brian chuckled and shook his head.

"So typical of your sister to score the prettiest girl at the ball," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Grunting in surprise, Cathy came to a dead stop and put her hands on her hips. Not only did her left eyebrow creep up her forehead, her mouth turned into a narrow line in her face.

"Oh!  Uh, apart from you, of course… ha, ha, but, ummm… she couldn't very well score you, could she…?   Ha, ha.  Ha… Uh, yeah.  Do you fancy a glass of wine, dear?"

"Nice save, Mr. Walsh. Shut up and dance," Cathy said and resumed wiggling to the beat.

"Yes, dear."

---

Thirty minutes later, Henry faded down the song he was playing and turned on his microphone.

"Thank you for having me here tonight, you've been a wonderful audience. I hope you'll remember Henry the Hit Machine for any parties or events you might host in the future. You'll find my business card at the foot of the stage.  This will be our final song of the evening, Take My Breath Away by Berlin. Enjoy it," he said and cued the love theme from Top Gun.

As the first notes of the superhit began playing, Vicky sat up straight and took Delia's hands in her own. "May I have this dance, please?" she said, already pulling the two of them to their feet.

Seeing no point in replying verbally - they were already halfway over to the dance floor, anyway - Delia just nodded and wrapped her arms around Vicky.

Soon, the two women joined the other couples on the dance floor, gently rocking back and forth to the timeless classic. Having never felt better in her entire life, Delia looked lovingly at the woman in her arms, thinking about what they had done and what the future might hold for them.

Smiling, she leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Vicky's forehead, earning herself a blinding smile from the honey-blonde beauty.

When Delia could feel that she was being gazed at, she looked up and locked eyes with her sister.

Cathy, wearing a smile that nearly matched Vicky's, winked and mouthed 'go for it, sis!'

"I will," Delia said even though she knew that Cathy wouldn't be able to hear it over the music.

All too soon, the song faded out and the people on the dance floor started clapping and cheering.  After flashing his spotlights one last time, Henry came out from behind the wooden boxes and took a bow.

"Baby, you take my breath away," Delia whispered before leaning down to claim Vicky's lips in a series of little kisses.

"Ohhhh, corny!"

"Corny, but true. All too true."

"I was thinking of another song from the eighties," Vicky said between the kisses.

"Oh?"

" 'Bang!' "

Stunned, Delia pulled back slightly to take a good look at the blonde beauty. When Vicky broke out into the sauciest grin she had seen for a long time, she licked her lips and decided on the spot to let Cathy and Brian handle most of the clean-up - after all, there were more important things in life than stacking chairs.

THE END

CULTURE CRASH: THE BARD AND THE BIKER

by Norsebard

Contact: norsebarddk@gmail.com

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DISCLAIMERS:

This action drama is an original story. All characters are created by me.

This story contains scenes of violence (psychological as well as physical), some of which are directed at women. Readers who are disturbed by or sensitive to this type of depiction may wish to read something other than this story.

This story depicts loving relationships between consenting adult women. If such a story frightens you, you better click on the X in the top right corner of your screen right away.

All characters depicted, names used, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons is intended nor should be inferred. Any resemblance of the characters portrayed to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The registered trademarks mentioned in this story are © of their respective owners. No infringement of their rights is intended, and no profit is gained.

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NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:

Written: August 31st - September 11th, 2011 for the Cocktail Hour Writing Challenge.

Description: Pamela Johnstone, a quiet, unassuming author of bodice-rippers and cozies, finds herself stretched beyond her breaking point when she is thrown into a series of dangerous situations.  She and the tough-as-nails biker chick Robin 'Lone Star' Kendall are forced to work together to fight off a ruthless enemy dead-set on hurting them - but the odds aren't in their favor...

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CHAPTER 1 - AFTERNOON

Three hundred yards after turning onto the coastal road that would take her to her summer cottage, the thirty-eight year old Pamela Johnstone pulled her pale blue Mazda Miata over by the side of the road and got out.

Not wasting any time in crossing the blacktop, she quickly ran across the grass on the other side to get to the viewing platform that some crafty entrepreneur had built.

Gripping the railing hard, she closed her jade-green eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, salty sea air that filled her lungs completely and chased away all the inner-city soot, smog and filth she was exposed to every day.

As she exhaled, she opened her eyes to take in her surroundings: the clear skies with nary a cloud to bother the sun, the strong, slightly chilly wind - as it invariably was at this part of the coast, even in early June - and the perpetual sounds of the seagulls and the waves rolling up on the beach.

A good ninety-five feet below her, the ocean presented itself to her in deep blue with just the faintest shade of green thrown in for good measure. The pale gray sand was pristine as always, save for the odd brightly-colored pieces of plastic that seemed to litter any beach.  Several people had taken advantage of the perfect weather and were strolling on the sand with their families or their pets.

To get the most out of the great weather, Pamela took off her sunglasses and the scarf she had tied around her head. Once her short, honey-blonde hair had been liberated, she fluffed it with vigor, almost like she was trying to brush the city air out of it.

Feeling recharged and in a far better mood than she had been in only minutes before, Pamela walked back to her car with a smile on her face and a jaunty little tune on her lips.

As she sat down, the sound of distant thunder rolled over her and she looked up in surprise. She craned her neck to study the sky in all directions, but all she could see were regular white, fluffy clouds.

Shrugging, she turned the ignition and got ready to carry on. As she looked in the wing mirror to see if the road was clear, the cause of the distant thunder revealed itself - a large group of bikers were approaching fast.

"What in the world…?" she said out loud at the unexpected sight, turning around to look over her shoulder.

The bikers drove like they owned the road, spread out in a wide arrow-head formation that took up both lanes.  A fearsome looking man with long, flowing, blond hair and plenty of tattoos on his arms sat astride a shining chopper at the head of the group, obviously the leader of the pack. Where most of the other bikers wore black leather, the leader wore blue jeans and a suede vest over a white T-shirt.

Pamela gripped the steering wheel and stared with wide eyes at the bikers as they thundered past her tiny Miata. To her great horror, two bikers riding at the tail end of the group slowed to a halt and started pointing at her.

They were both dressed in black leather from top to toe, but one of them wore a bright red bandanna that held in most of his black hair, save for a few strands that had broken free.

When Pamela noticed the biker's prominent cheekbones and lack of facial hair, a single thought flashed through her mind - 'God… that's a woman!  What kind of woman would want to get mixed up with those unsavory types…?'

Even though the biker's eyes were covered by a pair of black Ray-Ban Wraparounds, Pamela felt the other woman checking her out quite thoroughly, making her blush and cross her arms over her chest.

Grinning broadly, the leather-clad woman punched her fellow biker's shoulder with her gloved hand, and leaned in to say a few words that got lost in the roar of the idling Harley Davidson engines.  The other biker grinned as well, and Pamela blushed even more, connecting the dots in her mind.

Having had their fun, both bikers left in a cloud of dust, thundering up the road to catch the others, and leaving Pamela to ponder the unexpected intrusion into her little paradise.

The backs of the bikers' leather jackets were adorned with the letters S-T-I-N-G-E-R-S arched above an outline of a large scorpion with the tail poised to strike, and Pamela tried to remember if she had ever heard or read anything about such a gang, but came up short.

"Oh, well… those people have a right to experience the seaside as well," she said out loud and selected Drive. Once the little Miata's engine was purring, she tried all the buttons on her radio to find a tune that would get her thoughts back on more peaceful matters.

When the radio picked up the jingle of a station she was familiar with, she smiled and drove off, adhering to the forty miles per hour speed limit unlike the bikers.

Soon, one of Elvis' timeless classics started playing, and Pamela hummed along to the tune, occasionally breaking out into loud, slightly off-key, singing.

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Robin 'Lone Star' Kendall twisted the throttle hard to catch up to her fellow Stingers. To her left, her friend Jon 'Weedz' Clarke did the same, and soon, the two bikers were involved in an all-out drag race along the coastal road.
An image of the wide, spooked jade-green eyes of the woman in the Mazda flashed through Robin's mind, and she let out a throaty laugh that was swallowed by the wind.

Once they had caught the tail-end of the Stingers, Robin and Jon slowed down and fell into the formation like nothing at all had happened.  Still grinning, Robin clenched her left fist and put out her arm. Moments later, Jon reached over and gave it a thump.

"What the fuck, Lone Star?  You're slippin', man.  I thought we'd be sharin' that little thing by now," Jon said, shouting to be heard over the engines.

"Naw, dude, I got the curse," Robin said in a velvety voice that belied her tough exterior.

"That sucks, man.  I'm glad I don't get that shit.  Hey, betcha happy ya can't get a drippy dick, huh?"

"O-yeah. No fun in needin' painkillers to take a piss," Robin said and pulled back her sleeve to look at her watch.

"Are we on time?"

"Yeah.  On time and on target."

"Here we go, man. Pay-fuckin'-day is a-comin'," Jon shouted and punched his fist in the air.

-*-*-*-

Ten minutes after her encounter with the bikers, Pamela came up to an ice cream parlor that she remembered from previous years. The shop seemed to be open, so on a whim, she activated her turning signal and drove into the parking lot.

Her Miata was one of only six cars in the whole lot so she was free to choose a spot. Spoiled for choice, she debated with herself for so long if she should take one near the parlor itself or one near the stairs down to the beach that the best one - the one near the parlor - was taken by a dark blue SUV that took the final corner into the parking space on two wheels before it came to a gravel-rattling stop.

Pamela chuckled over her inability to make a decision and drove on, finally pulling up in one of the parking spots nearest the stairs.

Once she made it back to the ice cream parlor, she looked with interest at two people standing next to the SUV: a young girl who was trying to howl her lungs out and her mom who was busy wiping the young girl's tears.
As Pamela was walking up to the counter, she nearly bumped into a surly looking man - sporting a large, wet stain on the crotch of his pants - who came from the restrooms. The man was dabbing a paper towel against the stain, but it didn't have much effect.

'You should've stopped five minutes sooner, Mister,' she thought, biting her tongue so she wouldn't laugh at the unfortunate man's predicament.

The teenage girl behind the counter of the ice cream parlor looked up and smiled when Pamela approached her. Pamela remembered her well from her previous visits, but the young woman had definitely blossomed since she had last seen her.  Gone were the gangly frame and the awkward movements, replaced by a rather pretty face and a body that had most decidedly filled out.

"Hi," the teenager said.

"Hi.  Uhhh, I'd like a…" Pamela started to say, but then fell quiet.  She made a quick count of the many ice cream flavors in front of her and came up with sixteen - an outrageous amount for someone like her who couldn't make a snappy decision if her life depended on it.  "Uhhh… uhhh… I'd like a cup with three scoops, please."

"You betcha. Which flavors, Miss?" the teenager said, holding the ice scoop ready.

"Oh, God, there's so much to choose from… peppermint… and… M&Ms… and… no, scratch the M&Ms… and… chunky chocolate chip… and banan… no… orange sorbet a la Grand Marnier, please," Pamela said, so eager to check out the different flavors that she almost flattened her nose against the glass.

"Pepper, chunky choco and Grand Em.  Here you go, Miss.  That'll be $4.50."

After paying the pretty teenager, Pamela took two napkins and a plastic spoon from the dispenser. Deciding on going down to the beach to get her toes wet, she strolled across the parking lot to get to the staircase.

-*-*-*-

Meanwhile, at a roadside diner two miles further up the road, nine Harley Davidsons of all types were parked at oblique angles with the rears up against the building.

The diner had outdoor seating as well and the Stingers had commandeered all five tables, much to the grief of the waiter who was running himself ragged trying to keep up with the biker's excessive thirst.

Johnny Iron Balls, the right-hand man of Stinger boss Rico Warren, walked down the ranks until he came to the table where Robin and Jon sat.

"Yo, Lone Star. Rico wants a word," he said in his customary rumbling voice, thumping his fist down on the table which made Robin's beer spill over.
Draining her beer, Robin nodded at the bearded man - who was not only shorter than she was but ten times as ugly - and rose from the bench.

On her way up to the leader of the gang, she slipped her left hand underneath her jacket and put it on the handle of the nickel-plated .38 revolver she was wearing in a holster on her back.

"Lone Star, have a seat," Rico Warren said, pointing at the bench opposite where he sat.  Robin flashed the man a steely grin and sat down.

"So.  We're here.  Now you have to deliver the goods," Rico said, taking a long swig from his beer that left suds all over his impressive facial hair. After putting down the mug, he casually wiped off the suds with the back of his tattooed hand.

Robin assumed a suitably grim look and leaned in towards her boss. "In one of these cottages, my connection has stored a suitcase with seven hundred grand.  Once it's dark, we go to the cottage, check the money, call Stepanek, wait for his henchmen and do the swap when they show up.  Then we'll drive away with thirty kilos of nose-candy ready to be cut and sold on," she said and made a sweeping motion with her hand. 'And a little surprise you'll only know about when it's too late,' Robin thought.

"Unless he's trying to fuck us over."

"Not Josef Stepanek. No way."

"All right. Sounds easy enough.  We split seventy-thirty like we agreed on, right?" Rico said, closely studying the woman in front of him.

"Right. Twenty-one kilos for the Stingers, nine kilos for La Guapa here. It's still worth a shitload of money."

"What the fuck will we do 'til it gets dark, Lone Star?"

"There's a small town another two miles up the road. It's got a bar, a grocery store an' everything," Robin said with a grin.

-*-*-*-

By the time Pamela reached the Victoria city limits, she noted to her great dismay that the bikers had fallen on the small, cozy town like a swarm of locusts.  Their bikes were lined up in front of Charlie Coulson's bar, and several of the bikers were play-fighting each other in the parking lot - at least, that's what Pamela was hoping they were doing.

When she caught a glimpse of a whole line of leather-clad bikers exposing themselves while urinating up against a brick wall in the alley next to the bar, she nearly lost control of her Mazda and she had to jerk the steering wheel to the right to stop the car from veering into the opposite lane.

"Oh, God…" she groaned, furiously rubbing her brow to get the hideous sight out of her mind.

For once, Pamela felt the twenty miles per hour speed limit imposed by the town council was insanely slow as she trickled towards the sign marking the city limits. She was constantly looking in her rear view mirror to see if any of the bikers was following her, but she looked to be in the clear.

When she finally reached the sign, she floored the throttle and raced up the coastal road, quickly settling in at the forty miles per hour state speed limit.

---

A mile and a half later, she turned down Seagull Lane, the narrow dirt road that would take her to the cottage she had inherited from her grandparents.

Bumping along the uneven road, she felt the black cloud caused by the presence of the bikers leave her, and she was very much looking forward to unpacking and getting the cottage ready for her two-week stay.

The cottage was located on the flat part of the coast, only three-hundred and fifty yards from the edge of the water.  It wasn't possible to see the ocean from the cottage, but a well-trodden path that cut through the dunes allowed access to the beach in no time.

The sun, the sound of the distant surf, the birds singing merrily in the sky and the insects chirping in the tall grass all combined into one blissful experience for Pamela, and nearly caused her to miss the cottage's driveway.

At the last moment, she turned left and drove into the grassy lot behind the cottage. After turning off the ignition, she removed her sunglasses and craned her neck to see if everything was in good order.

The wooden cottage wasn't large - it was equipped with a living room, a single bedroom, a small kitchen and a bathroom - but the white walls and the vivid blue window frames made it very homey.

"Ahhhh… home at last," she said out loud and ran a hand through her hair.

After taking out her suitcases, her cooler box and her laptop, she closed the Mazda's top and locked it with a click on the little button on the keyfob.  She hurriedly went over to the cottage, unlocked the back door and put the various things down on the floor in the hall.

Sniffing, she could tell that the air was dry, if stale, and she quickly opened the patio door and most of the windows to get the air to circulate. Once that was done, she went back outside, opened a metal panel on the wall next to the back door and flicked a circuit breaker.

"Engineering to bridge, warp core is now online and all systems are running perrrfectly," Pamela said out loud in a fake Scottish brogue, imitating Captain Montgomery Scott.

Chuckling, she went back inside to begin the unpacking.

---

After a delicious, if not exactly nutritious, dinner consisting of cooked sausages, toasted buns and plenty of ketchup, Pamela went over to the couch, cracked her knuckles and opened the lid of her laptop.

Once the word processor had loaded the document she had been working on for weeks, she went to the bottom end and began to read the last few paragraphs out loud.

"… No sooner had Mathilda lit the torches in the backyard before a strong, callused, male hand clasped down on her mouth, cutting off the scream that had already formed on her lips.

'Fear not, sweet Mathilda. It is I, Sir Patrick of Great Yarmouth.  I have come to take you… away from your dreadfully oppressive father, take you… to our own little Garden of Eden.  What say thee, sweet Mathilda?' Sir Patrick's velvety yet masculine voice whispered into Mathilda's ear.

'Oh yes, darling Sir Patrick… oh yes, please take me… away from this awful place!'  Mathilda breathed once Sir Patrick had removed his hand. Her bosom was heaving from the delightful thrill of Sir Patrick's touch and from the indecent thoughts that had somehow invaded her mind."

Pamela leaned back in the couch and tapped her index finger against her nose. "Hmmm. That's not too bad. Yeah.  So, let's see, now they ride off on Sir Patrick's trusty steed," she continued, switching to another program to find the horse's name and to take a look at her outline.

"Maybe Sir Patrick should wear black leather gloves…?  Hmmm."

As if on cue, the peace was shattered by the sound of a Harley Davidson thundering along the coastal road in the far distance.  Chuckling, Pamela returned to her story and started typing.

'I wonder what color her eyes are…?'

Pamela leaned back in the couch and stared at the words on the laptop's screen. "Where did that come from?  Whose eyes?  God, not that biker chick…?  They're probably bloodshot from too much whisky, too many cigarettes and too little sleep," she said out loud while she held the Backspace key down to delete the sentence.

Before she had time to resume typing, her cell phone rang, and she picked it up to look at the caller ID - 'Sue'.  "Ohhhh, about time," she said and pinned down the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"Hello, sweetie pie. Do you miss me already?" Pamela said and started fluffing a few pillows.  Once they were good and ready, she swung her legs up into the couch and made herself comfortable.

'I started missing you the moment you left my bed, hon,' a female voice purred at the other end of the connection.

"Awwww… it's too bad your boss wouldn't let you take some time off this year. The cottage is so empty without you."

'Thanks, hon. How are things going out there in the boonies, anyway?'

"Oh, just fine, thanks. Hey, you're not going to believe it… there's a whole pack of bikers here!  Harleys, black leather, gang insignias, everything!"

'Oh, wow, really?'

"Cross my heart!"

'Please be careful, baby. You know how volatile those people can be.  You haven't confronted any of them yet, have you?  You know, for taking a leak in a public place or something?'

"Ohmigod, did you install a surveillance camera in the Mazda?!  I saw that very thing earlier today, down at Charlie's bar."

'No way!'

"Big way," Pamela said, nodding vigorously even though no one was there to see it.

'Imagine that.  Oh yeah, you forgot your cereal. The box is still on the kitchen table.'

"Yeah, I know.  When I've completed the chapter I'm working on, I'm going to head down to the grocery store and buy some. Hopefully, they'll have my favorite brand."

'Okie-dokie.  Listen, I'll call you again once I'm ready to go to bed, okay?'

"Oooooh!"

'Yeah, I thought we could have a little chat then.'
"Oh, absolutely!"

'Love you, baby,' Sue said, blowing Pamela a kiss through the line.

"Love you, too, Sue.  Boy, am I a wordsmith or what?"

'You wish!  Bye, baby.'

"Bye," Pamela said and terminated the connection. After she had put the phone on the table, she snuggled down again and moved her hands behind her head. Closing her eyes, she started thinking about the many lovely goodbyes she and her girlfriend had shared the evening before.

-*-*-*-

Robin Kendall put a quarter on the grocery store's counter and took a cherry lollipop from the vending machine. Unwrapping it at once, she stuck the lollipop in her mouth and threw the wrapper on the floor.

Through her near-black Ray-Bans, Robin noted that the old lady behind the counter appeared to be quite intimidated by her presence, and that suited her just fine.

Some of her fellow Stingers had drunk themselves into oblivion already, but she had kept a clear head so she'd be sharp for the evening's events. Sucking loudly on the lollipop, she moved back her sleeve and looked at her watch - she still had an hour and a half to kill.

Her leather jacket acted like an oven in the early summer heat, so she took it off and slung it over her shoulder, secretly hoping for a reaction from the old lady - it came promptly as the woman drew a sharp breath at the sight of Robin's muscular arms and her many tattoos.

Feeling bored, Robin took off her sunglasses and hung them from the top hem of her black muscleshirt that had the words 'Deth Metal Rulz' printed on it in huge, red letters that were made up to look like blood smears.

"What time do you close?" she asked the old lady whose only answer was a trembling index finger pointing at a sign that said Open Eight a.m. - Nine p.m.

"Thanks," Robin said and threw the spent lollipop stick away.  Yawning, she weighed her options and came to the conclusion that she might as well head into Charlie's Bar next door to wet her whistle.

At that exact same time, a commotion out on the parking lot sparked her interest and she stepped outside to see what was going on.

Two Stingers were busy trying to guide a woman in a pale blue Mazda Miata into the parking space in front of the grocery store, with very little success.

"Hmmm!" Robin said to herself as she recognized the pretty, green-eyed woman behind the steering wheel. The woman looked to be quite frazzled by the attentions of the bikers, and she had trouble parking the Mazda between the white lines of the parking space.

"Hold it right there, fellas!  This calls for a woman's touch!" Robin said loudly, striding towards the Mazda in a deliberate, but casual fashion.  Both bikers groaned loudly and shuffled back to the bar, knowing that they had lost the battle before it had even started.

Finally coming to a rest up against the store, Pamela turned off the engine and drew a long sigh of relief, happy that she hadn't done anything she would regret, like yelling or cursing at the two drunken bikers. She felt her hands tremble slightly, but she managed to still them by wiping her palms against her jeans.

Two seconds later, she jumped a foot in the air when the driver's side door was suddenly opened.  Looking up in surprise, she stared wide-eyed at the tall female biker who was holding the door open to let her get out.

"Hello again," the biker said in a velvety voice, flashing Pamela a toothy grin.

Pamela didn't answer at once - she was so mesmerized by the tall biker's cerulean blue eyes that she almost forgot how to breathe.  "Oh… hello. Uh, thank you for… for rescuing me," Pamela said and moved to get out, but in the confusion, she had forgotten to take her seat belt off, and the cord restricted her movements.

"Yeah, ya might wanna take that off. Easier than draggin' the car around if ya know what'm sayin'," Robin said with a chuckle.

Pamela quickly undid the seatbelt, rolled it up and stepped out of the car. When she felt the other woman's eyes on her, she wished she had dressed more substantially - sandals, blue jeans cut off mid-thigh, a cerise tank top and a loose, white shirt didn't offer much in the way of protection.

Robin grinned, closing the door once Pamela had moved away from the car. "I'm Lone Star Kendall. Tell ya what, I'll guard your toy car until you get back. How's that?"

"Oh… you don't have to do that…"

"Naw, I insist," Robin said and leaned her butt against the driver's side door.

"Oh… well… thank you. I won't be long, I just have to buy… never mind. I won't be long," Pamela said and hurried towards the grocery store.

"Hey, woman?"  Robin yelled, making Pamela come to a screeching halt just outside the store.

"Y-yeah?"

"I told you my name, but I didn't catch yours.  That's common courtesy where I come from," Robin said in a steely voice.

"P-Pamela…"

"Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome…"

When Pamela realized that the biker didn't want more from her, she spun around and hurried through the open door.

Robin chuckled, thinking that the short woman with the jade-green eyes and the surprisingly fit body was just too cute for words. A little alarm bell went off in the back of her mind, warning her that she shouldn't be fooling around with girls when the big deal was so close, but she just shrugged it off.

---

It only took Pamela a couple of minutes to buy the cereal, and while she hurried back outside, she was hoping and praying that her car was still in the parking lot and still in one piece.  When she realized that the tall biker hadn't moved an inch, she drew a sigh of relief.

On her way back to the car, Pamela slowed down a bit so she had time to study the biker who had called herself Lone Star. 'What is she?  Thirty-five years old?  Five foot eleven?  God, look at those mile-long legs, look at that flat, firm stomach… look at those breasts… and those bronzed arms!' she thought, almost feeling ashamed for being so fascinated by the biker.

Deep inside her, a tiny little tingle began to float around her system, but the moment she realized where her thoughts were headed, she broke out into a huge blush and shook her head slightly to cast out those thoughts.

"All-Bran Original, huh?" Robin said as she noticed the cereal box Pamela was carrying.

"Uh, yes. They're my favorites."

"For some reason, I had pegged ya to be a Rice Krispie girl.  Anyway, that's cool.  So, what do you do for a livin', Pam?"

"S-sorry?"
"You know… work. How do you earn your moolah?"

"Well, I…"  Pamela said started to say, but her voice trailed off when she realized that the biker wasn't going to move away from the car door.  "I'm an author," she continued, clutching the cereal box to her chest.

"No shit?"

"Uh, no."

"Did I read any of your stuff?" Robin said with a wide grin.

"You know, I very much doubt it. I write bodice-rippers and cozies," Pamela said, looking down at her sandals. An embarrassed blush spread over her cheeks like it always did when people asked her what she was writing.

"Aw, hell, are you speakin' English…?  'Cos I didn't get jack o' that."

"It's a long story…"

"An' I'd like to hear it.  Come on, let me drive you home.  Then we'll have plenty of time to talk about it," Robin said. Turning around, she opened the door and squeezed herself into the driver's seat before Pamela could even open her mouth to protest.

"No… no, I… I d-don't…"

"I promise I won't bite unless you want me to," Robin said with a wink.

"No, p-please get out of my c-car. Right now, p-please."

"All right, all right. No need to get your panties all wadded up.  It's such a bitch to get them straightened out again,"  Robin said and got out of the Mazda. She quickly resumed her position at the door, much to Pamela's consternation.

"May I just go home now, please…?" Pamela said, putting the cereal box down on the passenger seat.

"In a little while.  I'm just teasin' ya, ya know that, right?  I'd never hurt such a pretty little thing like you.  You can feel completely safe around me," Robin said, flexing her biceps.

Staring at the biker's muscles made Pamela break out into another blush, but she tried to hide it by rubbing her face.
"What did ya call it?  Body rippers?  What's that, horror?"

"No, bodice-rippers.  They're sort of, uh… historical dramas. Uh, I guess, with… uh, a bit of erotica thrown in," Pamela said, biting her lip.

"You write porn?!"

"I do not!"

"You just said you did."

"Erotica isn't porn, thank you very much.  Erotica is far more sensual, far more… uh…"

"Oh, I get it. Soft core.  Yeah, well, I've heard that some people get off on that," Robin said with an impossibly wide grin.

"I'm telling you it's not porn!"

"Whatever. What's the other thing?"

"Cozies… they're family-friendly crime dramas. I've written a series where a retired post office worker helps people in need in a small village in rural England."

"What did ya say your name was…?  Pamela… what?"

"Johnstone, but I'm using pen names for both genres," Pamela said and crossed her arms over her chest.  "J.P. Lovestone and Wilhelmina Morris, respectively."

It took Robin a couple of seconds to digest the information, but when it finally sank in, she leaned her head back and let out such a resounding belly laugh that some of the other bikers stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

"Wilhelmina…!  Holy fuck, ya don't look like a Wilhelmina to me, Pam."

"My publisher felt that cozies needed a name that was more in tune with the readers of the genre than Pamela. Wilhelmina was a good fit."

"Huh.  I'll look for your books the next time I'm in a book store," Robin said, shuffling a bit to the left.

Pamela hoped it would mean that the biker would leave her alone, but her hopes were dashed when the woman settled down and crossed her arms over her chest again.

"What brings you here, Pam?"

The question made Pamela's face fall and she tried to come up with an excuse to get away from the biker. 'Even though she's been civilized so far, she could still snap at the wrong word… with those arms, she could brain me with a flick of the wrist. God, why won't she just leave me alone?' she thought, biting her lip.

"I'm working on a new book.  Listen, I'm sorry, but I'd like to go home now. It's been a long, warm day and I need to… get… some…" Pamela's voice trailed off when she noticed that the biker had suddenly grown tense and that her cerulean blue eyes were looking over Pamela's right shoulder and onto the road behind her.

Turning around to see what was going on, Pamela noticed that the bikers who were further down the parking lot had stopped fighting with each other and were busy staring at two cars that had silently crept up on them without anyone noticing.

Wearing a grim expression, Robin put on her jacket and her sunglasses and moved away from her position at the Mazda's door.  "Pam, this is a good time to leave," she said in a voice that had changed tone from soft velvet to hard steel.

Pamela took the cue and ran over to her car. After practically jumping into the driver's seat, she turned the ignition key and selected Reverse.

"Nice talkin' to ya, Pam.  Don't come back here until tomorrow, okay?" Robin said, keeping an eye on the two cars.

"Wh-why not?  What's going to happen?  Are you expecting trouble?"

"No, but I wasn't expectin' those guys to show up now, either," Robin said enigmatically, moving away from the Mazda.

Pamela knew better than to ask what the tough biker meant so she quickly reversed out of the parking space and onto the coastal road. As she selected Drive, she looked at the two cars in the rear view mirror.

One of them was a black stretch limo with very dark windows, and the other was an open-topped Jeep equipped with a sturdy roll-over bar and all-terrain wheels. Several men sat in the Jeep and Pamela thought they looked even more terrifying than the bikers.

Feeling in her gut that she shouldn't be anywhere near the grocery store, she stepped on the throttle and left the scene.

---

To make sure that the green-eyed beauty didn't change her mind, Robin kept her eyes on the pale blue Mazda as it left in a hurry.  Once it was certain the sports car wasn't going to stop, she turned her attention to the limo and the tough guys in the Jeep.

Strolling closer to it, she reached behind her to grab the handle of the .38 that she had stuck down the trouser lining.

Before she had made it all the way to the limo, the men in the Jeep disembarked and assembled in front of the cars - moments later, Robin's fellow Stingers came out of Charlie's Bar and lined up on the other side of the road.

Robin's face turned to stone when she realized that there was a real risk that the deal she had been planning for nearly eight months could go down the drain, but she was determined to let it play out to the bitter end.

When the limo door opened, a bodyguard resembling an oak tree in a gun metal gray suit and a black turtleneck stepped out and covered the other bikers with an Uzi.

Cocking her head, Robin let go of the .38 and moved her hands in front of her where the bodyguard could see them.

A muffled voice said something inside the limo and the bodyguard waved Robin over to him.  Once she reached the car, he pushed her up against the side and frisked her with very little regard for her female attributes or her general well-being.

After taking Robin's revolver from the concealed holster, he shoved her into the air-conditioned limo, almost sending her in ass over elbows.  At the very last moment, she put a hand on the roof to stabilize herself and she was able to sit down on a small folding seat in relatively good order.

Opposite her, a man in his early fifties was sitting on the back seat with his legs crossed in a very proper fashion.  He was wearing shiny black wingtips, a white suit, a black silk shirt and a white Panama hat. The goatee on his chin was more gray than black, and his face betrayed his Slavic roots by being flat and broad.

He held a hardwood cane in his right hand and a chrome Colt M1911 in his left. The Colt was trained at Robin in a casual fashion, but the intent was clear.

"Mr. Stepanek," Robin said, feeling tension growing inside her.  If Josef Stepanek was here now, it could only mean that the deal would be scuppered.

"Miss Kendall. Lone Star… Oh, you Americans and your funny nicknames," the exquisitely dressed man said in an Eastern European accent.

"Hmmm."

"I take it you're wondering why we changed the arrangement?   Well, as it happens, a better deal has come up which requires my undivided attention."

"Oh…"
"But fear not, some of my best people will still make the delivery tonight as planned. This is just a social call."

"Charming, Mr. Stepanek," Robin said in a cool, but steely voice that held just the tiniest amount of menace.

"I thought so, yes. I hope Hristo wasn't too rough on you before," Stepanek said, nodding towards the human oak tree who was standing just outside the closed door.

"No."

"Good. Well, Miss Kendall, that's all, really.  I hope we can work together in the future… provided that all goes well tonight, of course."

"It will.  The money is ready."

"Oh, how nice. Goodbye, Miss Kendall," Stepanek said and waved the Colt, signaling that Robin should leave.

"Goodbye, Mr. Stepanek," Robin said and opened the door.

Leaning towards the door, Josef Stepanek said a few words in a language Robin didn't understand. An instant later, the human oak tree grabbed hold of Robin's lapels and forcibly dragged her from the limo and onto the road.

The bodyguard bared his teeth in something Robin presumed was a smile - revealing that he only had half his grill left - before handing Robin her revolver.  Grunting, the bodyguard crawled back into the limo, and within a few seconds, the two cars drove off.

"Motherfuckers," Robin growled, putting her gun into its holster and straightening her jacket.

'Everything is gonna go so fuckin' well tonight you'll never know what hit you, asshole,' she thought before walking back towards her fellow Stingers.

CHAPTER 2 - EVENING

Humming to herself, Pamela walked out onto the front patio of the summer cottage carrying a jug of ice water and a tray with sandwiches that she proceeded to put down on a wooden table.

After checking that her laptop had enough battery power left to last the evening session she had planned, she went back inside to get a tall glass, her bug zapper, her sunglasses and a pair of binoculars.
Once everything was in place, she sat down on a patio chair and marveled at the many colors of the sky.  The sun was slowly setting in the western skies, but Pamela reckoned she had at least an hour to write in before it would get too dark to see what she was doing.

Feeling inspired by the glorious orange and dark red colors of the sunset, she opened her word processing program and went down to the bottom end of the document. Cracking her knuckles, she began to type.

" 'Mathilda rose from the grassy knoll where she had finally become a woman to look at the setting sun. The many colors…'  No, that's a bit too simple," Pamela said out loud as she poured ice water into the tall glass and took the first of the sandwiches.

Taking a bite out of the sandwich, she highlighted one of the lines she had written and moved it below the rest.  " 'Mathilda closed' - munch, munch - 'her shawl around' - munch, munch - 'her bare shoulders and' - munch, munch - 'rose from the grassy knoll' - munch, munch - 'to look at the' - munch, munch - 'setting sun'.  Much better," she said around the mouthful that was eventually chased down by a long swig of the ice water.

'No longer a virgin, Mathilda now understood what her sister had meant. Smiling blissfully, she went back to her beautiful lover and lay her head down upon his broad, masculine chest.

Sir Patrick opened his blue eyes and looked at his sweet Mathilda, proud to have been the man who deflowered her,' Pamela typed, nodding to herself in agreement with what she was writing. A few seconds later, she stopped typing and scratched her hair.

"Wait a minute… Sir Patrick doesn't have blue eyes… oh, it's that darn biker chick again,"  Pamela said out loud, deleted 'blue' and wrote 'brown' instead.

Rolling her eyes, she decided that a short break was in order, so she took the binoculars and swept the horizon and the sections of the beach she could see from her vantage point.  Not much was happening, so she put down the binoculars and grabbed a new sandwich.

" 'Oh, darling Sir Patrick… I am terribly grateful that you have made a woman out of me.  I was so worried that I would end up as an old maid, like so many others of my ilk.'

'It was my pleasure, sweet Mathilda.  Now, if our joining produces a child, may I ask that you name him… Patrick…?'

'Oh… a ch-child!  I cannot support a child, Sir Patrick!  My Mother and my Father barely have enough to make ends meet as it is!'

'But you have a job do you not?  You are a highly skilled seamstress, Mathilda. I know because I have asked Mr. Lysander, your master. That's a job you can sustain even far into your pregnancy.'

Pamela chuckled as she wrote those words. "Men!" she said out loud, shaking her head over the strange genre conventions.

'Oh, but Sir Patrick!  I… I… if I become with child, I shall throw myself off the White Cliffs!  I shall pray for the Lady of the Sea to swiftly take me to her bosom!'

'You will do no such thing, silly child!  By Jove, I swear you sound far younger than your fifteen years.  Now put on your knickers, his Lordship awaits my return.'

Grinning, Pamela helped her writing along by acting out the scene, gesticulating with her hands as she typed.  The acting eventually became so animated that she bumped into the tall glass that she had just filled up, sending water splashing over the rim and onto the table.

Howling, she jumped up from the chair and lifted the laptop off the table. Looking around frantically, she put the laptop down on the chair and ran inside to get a dishcloth.

-*-*-*-

At roughly the same time a mile down the coast, Robin tried to control her heavy Harley-Davidson as it bumped along a dirt road. Cursing and swearing, she and Weedz - who was driving behind her - were forced to drive so slowly that she felt she could've walked faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck… my balls are takin' a beatin' here, man!  Why did we have to go down this piece of shit road, anyway?" Weedz said from somewhere behind Robin's shoulder.

"'Cos the cottage is down here, Sunshine."

"We ain't never gonna get thirty kilos of blow the other way, man!  My wheels are diggin' in even now!"

"I know, I know. Will you shut the fuck up, we're almost there!" Robin said through clenched teeth.

Her bike suddenly bucked and nearly threw her off, and she had to use all her skills just to hang on.  Once she was erect in the saddle, she hurriedly moved her hand to her back to feel if the revolver and the pair of handcuffs were still there.  When she touched the handle of the gun and the small leather pouch for the cuffs, she let out a sigh of relief and resumed riding the bike.

Finally reaching firmer ground, the two bikers pulled their Harleys up against the side of a summer cottage.  Moving quickly, Robin found a key in her pocket and unlocked the door.
"Stand guard, Weedz, okay?" she said with her hand on the doorknob.

"Sure thing, man. Nobody is gonna come past me," the biker said and put down his prop stand.

Grunting, Robin opened the door and went inside. According to the information provided by her contact, the suitcase with the seven hundred thousand dollars would be on the bed in the first bedroom, but when she found the room, the bed was empty.

"Aw, great," she said hoarsely. She started rubbing her brow, trying to figure out where they would've put the suitcase.

"It's a huge fuckin' thing, where the hell could those morons have put it!" she said out loud.  A few seconds later, she went down on her knees and looked under the bed.

"Fuckin' figures," she growled and got back up. Using both hands, she shoved the bed out of the way to get to the suitcase.  After hauling the heavy load up on the bed, she opened the case and whistled at the sight of the many bills. 

'First class funny money,' she thought as she took a stack of $100 bills and leafed through it.  A piece of paper with a few scribbles on it had been placed on top of one of the stacks, and Robin picked it up to read it.

'Lone Star: Seven hundred grand as requested. CL. 

PS: Be my guest, blow it all at once.'

Smiling grimly, Robin reached into her jacket pocket to find her phone.

After calling Stepanek and receiving a terse two-word reply, she closed the phone, picked up the suitcase and hauled it outside.

"Get the fuck outta here!" Weedz said in surprise as he saw the size of the suitcase. When Robin opened the lid and showed him some of the stacks of bills, his eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his face morphed into the classic look of greed.

"I've called Stepanek's stooges. It won't be long before they're here," Robin said, wiping her sweaty palms on her muscleshirt.

---

Ten minutes later, the sound of a powerful engine came closer to the cottage, and soon, Robin and Weedz could see two searchlights sweeping back and forth high in the air.

"What the fuck…?" Weedz said and got off the Harley.

"That's the Jeep from this afternoon.  Hey, Weedz, did you bring our insurance?"

"Sure did, man."  Crouching down, Weedz opened one of the saddle bags and took out a short-barreled H&K MP5/K submachinegun and two spare clips. "Fully loaded an' ready to fire, man… like my dick," he said, holding the weapon so it protruded from his crotch.

"Yeah. It's even got a short barrel and everything," Robin countered with a grin.

"Haw, haw."

The four-by-four Jeep drove up onto the hard ground and stopped. The driver turned off the searchlights and the engine, but didn't step out.  Another man was standing at the roll-over bar above the seats, but the shadows obscured his face.

Both were wearing drab army fatigues, and Robin could just about make out that they had sidearms on their hips. In addition to that, the man standing up was holding an assault rifle of some kind so Robin reached behind her to draw her revolver, just to be on the safe side.

"We got the money.  You got the merchandise?" Robin said and gave the suitcase a shove with her boot so it would be more visible in the sparse light.

"Yeah," the man standing at the roll-over bar said. Leaning down towards the front seats, he gave the driver a few instructions in a foreign language that Robin didn't understand.

The first man - Zoltan Coric - jumped off the Jeep and pulled a metal box out of the footwell in the passenger side.  After dumping it on the ground in front of the Jeep, he turned around and waved at the driver who flicked a switch to turn on one of the searchlights. Once it had powered up, he rotated it to point at the metal box.

Zoltan crouched down and opened the metal box, revealing three identical rectangular packages that had been wrapped in several layers of brown plastic. "Ten, twenty, thirty kilos," he said in an Eastern European accent, pointing at each of the packages.  "Now the money," he continued, standing up straight.

Robin stepped forward with the suitcase. Crouching down, she opened it to show the man the stacks of $100 bills.  As she did so, her face came into the cone of light.

Zoltan jumped back and let out a loud curse in his own language. He grabbed the assault rifle from the back of the jeep and shouted to the driver.  Robin couldn't understand any of the words, except one: 'Fed!'

At once, the driver - Sandor Garkony, a forty-seven year old veteran of the Hungarian Army - cursed loudly, jumped out of the Jeep with an AK47 and took cover behind the wheel arc.  As he aimed the rifle directly at the two bikers, he let out a few colorful curses in a mix of Hungarian and English.

Baring her teeth in a sneer, Robin aimed her revolver at the two drug dealers and jumped to the side to get out of the light.  "Get down on the ground, you fuckers!  Drop the hardware and get down on the ground!"

Instead of answering her directly, the men just started cursing her even louder, holding their rifles in a very threatening manner.

While all this was happening, Weedz was staring wide-eyed and gap-mouthed at the unexpected confrontation.  "Lone Star… say it ain't so, man!  Tell me you ain't a Fed!"  he said, raising the MP5 as he slowly turned towards Robin.

"Jesus Christ, Weedz, do I look like a fuckin' Fed to you?  Don't point that thing at me, those fuckers over there are the bad guys, for Chrissakes!"

"Fuckin' hell, Lone Star…" Weedz said and released the safety of the MP5.

The metallic sound grated in Robin's ears. The situation was grim and growing worse by the second, and she knew it.

"Weedz, listen to me.  Look at the moolah, look at the blow… we got seven hundred grand and thirty kilos of coke right there. Right there!  It's ours for the takin', man!  Point your gun at those motherfuckers over there and let's get the fuck out of here while we still can!"

"My Daddy was killed by a Fed, Lone Star…" Weedz said quietly, still aiming the powerful weapon at Robin's chest.

The man who had provided the metal box stepped forward, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  As he moved into the light, Robin recognized his ugly mug from one of the first jobs she had done.

"You lose, cunt. Why don't you get nekkid so we can see where you hide your badge?  Huh?" Zoltan said, moving closer to Robin.

"You touch me, you get a hole in your head.  That includes you, Weedz," Robin hissed, changing to a two-hand grip to hold the revolver steady.

"You think you can take us all down before we can get to ya?  I don't think so, cunt.  I got two pounds of salty meat right here just dyin' to pump you full," Zoltan said, taking his hand off the trigger to grope his crotch - he shouldn't have.

Feeling her emotions boil over, Robin saw red and fired her revolver at the first drug dealer. A dime-sized hole appeared above Zoltan's left eye and he crumbled to the ground with a confused look on his face.

Breathing in explosive bursts, Robin clenched her teeth and looked at the body on the ground.  The first few seconds after the killing went by in silence, but Sandor soon snapped out of it and responded with a roar and a long salvo from his AK47.

The first shots of the salvo hit Weedz dead center, throwing him backwards with a scream on his lips that died out before he had even hit the ground. The last few shots from the salvo zinged past Robin's head, and she quickly took out the searchlight on top of the Jeep to make the conditions equal for everyone.

Robin fired off a few shots into the darkness, but the constant staccato chatter of the AK proved that she hadn't hit the shooter. She jumped forward to snatch the metal box, but it proved too heavy, so she settled for picking up one of the ten-kilo packages.

She emptied her revolver at the shooter - hoping that she had hit him when she heard him grunt - but the very next second, she found herself face-down on the ground with a burning pain in her left armpit that was far worse than anything she had ever experienced.

The firing suddenly stopped and she could hear the remaining man curse loudly in his own language, apparently unable to get the weapon to fire again.

Grabbing the golden opportunity, Robin scrambled to her feet and ran out into the darkness, unsure of where she was or where she was going. All she knew was that to save her life, she had to get away before the shooter would call for more of Stepanek's goons.

-*-*-*-

" 'Having no more tears to cry, Mathilda stepped closer to the edge of the White Cliffs. Looking down, she could see the waves crashing against the rocky shore far below her. She had made up her mind.  She knew that her Mother and her Father would be terribly angry with her, but she had no other option. Gently caressing the bump on her belly, she-"

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

The harsh, metallic sound drifting in from the darkness made Pamela jump a foot in the air and look around in a panic. She had lived long enough in the Big City to recognize gunfire when she heard it, but she couldn't fathom where it could come from in the peaceful coastal area.

"God… the limo and the Jeep… I knew they were trouble the second I saw them," she said out loud, craning her neck to see if she could pick up anything out of the ordinary.

The area and the houses to her right, further up the coast, were all dark and quiet, but activity to her left kickstarted her curiosity.  Picking up the binoculars, she made a slow sweep of the area, but it was too dark for her to see anything.

Suddenly, she could hear at least one powerful engine driving around in the dunes and she put the binoculars back up to her eyes to check it out. She could see a few lights in the distance that moved left and right like they came from a flashlight, but it still wasn't enough to let her see any details.

Putting down the binoculars, she got a major case of goosebumps and quickly rose from the patio chair.  After saving her document, she closed her laptop and scooped up the various items she had used for her evening writing session.

As she was closing the patio door, she could hear angry male voices shouting some distance away to her left, but she couldn't pick out what was said or even the language the men used.

Shivering again, she felt she needed to do more to feel completely secure, so she hurriedly went around the house and closed all the windows, pulled all the curtains and locked the front and rear doors.

"What is the world coming to…?  A girl can't even feel safe in her own summer cottage anymore… out here, in the middle of nowhere…!" she said quietly in a voice that held a slight tremble.

Even though it was still in the high sixties outside, Pamela felt cold and she rubbed her upper arms repeatedly.

"TV… TV will do me good. Yeah, maybe there's a sitcom on or something that… that can keep me company," she said and went over to the couch. Picking up the remote, she turned on the TV and sat down.

---

Three minutes later, her tension-fueled curiosity got the better of her, and she muted the TV and went over to a window to try to catch a glimpse of whatever was going on out there.  She couldn't hear any voices, but she could still see lights sweeping back and forth.

When she realized that the lights had come a good deal closer in the few minutes she had been away, she furrowed her brow and began to chew on her lip.

'God… I feel so vulnerable.  If only I had some kind of weapon…'

She glanced at the drawer in the kitchen that held her cutlery, but the mere thought of using a table knife as a weapon made her shiver. She wrapped an arm around her chest and began to chew on her fingernails.

'In my books, this is where the hero shows up and rescues the damsel in distress… but where can you find a hero in this day and age…?  There's no point in calling the police, it would take them an hour just to get here… and besides, what would I say to them?  That I can see strange lights out in the dunes?  Sheesh, they'd think I was some kind of weirdo.'

Pamela peeked out again and saw to her great relief that the lights seemed to be going away from her and move further towards the coastal road.

"Oh, please… please, please, please let that be the end of it," she whispered, tracking the lights with her eyes until they were no more than pinpoints in the night.

She kept watching for several minutes after the last light had faded away to see if they came back, but they didn't. Eventually, her heart rate resumed its regular pace and she began to feel more calm. Rolling her shoulders to get the tension out of her neck, she moved away from the windows and walked over to the refrigerator to get some more ice water.

-*-*-*-

Robin's lungs felt like they were on fire. She had no idea how long she had been running through the dunes, but she most decidedly knew that the pack of cocaine she had stolen was getting heavier with every passing minute, and also that her left arm was going numb.

In the confusion, she had lost everything: her revolver, her handcuffs, her cell phone and even her sunglasses, and she cursed the fact that she hadn't had time to find the MP5 Weedz had pointed at her - now, she didn't have any way to defend herself.

She stopped occasionally to catch her breath, but since Stepanek's men had shown up much faster than she had feared, she didn't dare slow down too much. The fear compounded the evening chill and made her teeth clatter in her mouth. The only way she could stop it was to bite down hard, but that restricted her breathing too much and almost made her feel light-headed.

Yet another tall dune towered up ahead of her and she had to drag herself up it, slipping and sliding on the treacherous sand.  Unfortunately, the frustration over the botched deal, the fact that she'd had to kill a man and the hopelessness of the situation in general made her careless. Reaching the peak of the dune, she didn't slow down for even a second and ended up taking a stumbling step into thin air.

When she felt the ground disappear underneath her boot, the first thought through her mind was that she had been shot and was dead - however, she quickly caught up with reality as she tumbled head-first down the other side of the dune, eventually ending up in an unruly heap at the bottom.

She had come to a hard, unpleasant stop against a smooth, cool surface that had made her shoulder ache worse than ever.  Moving her fingers inside her leather jacket, she could feel a sticky fluid coat them at once, and she knew she was in serious trouble if she didn't get some help soon.

Her tumble had kicked up a minor sand-avalanche and she had sand in places she didn't even know could hold it.  As she tried to get up, she spit and spluttered several times to get the grit out of her teeth, but the small grains were tough opponents.

Standing up straight, she needed to rub her eyes several times to make sure she wasn't imagining things - she had landed in front of a very familiar pale blue Mazda Miata.  Thanking her lucky stars, she staggered over to the front door of the white and blue summer cottage and raised her arm to knock.

---

As the first knock sounded, Pamela was brushing her teeth, getting ready to go to bed. She registered the knock but filed it under the way old, wooden houses sounded when they cooled off after a day exposed to the sun's rays.

By the time the second and third knocks came, Pamela nearly swallowed the toothpaste when she realized that they came from the front door. She quickly rinsed her mouth and wiped off the excess toothpaste on a towel.  Looking down at herself - she was only wearing a pair of boxers and a quite worn, comfy T-shirt - she felt desperately vulnerable, made worse by the fact that she didn't even have a bathrobe to slip into.

The fourth knock was a lot stronger, and she looked at her reflection in the mirror above the wash basin with wide, spooked eyes. When she heard someone speaking, she stuck her head around the doorjamb and peeked out into the hall.

'Pam?  Please be in there… Pam?  Oh, fuck it…'  someone said from the other side of the front door.  Pamela suddenly realized that it was a female voice - or more precisely, the female biker's voice.

Pamela quickly padded down the hall on bare feet, using exaggerated movements so she wouldn't trigger any of the squeaky floorboards.  Moving very carefully, she slid aside the curtain and peeked out of the small window in the door.

Getting up on tip-toes, she could see someone sitting up against the wall of the cottage just to the right of the door, and she recognized the female biker's mile-long leather pants.

After taking a few deep breaths to control her wildly beating heart, Pamela turned the lock, opened the door and looked out.  "He-hello…?"
"Pam?"  Robin croaked, turning her head with a jerk.  "Holy fuck, am I glad to see you," she continued, trying to get to her feet.

"Wh-what's going on…?"

"Lots o' stuff.  Listen, I'm sorry to bother you, but… but I'm ten miles up shit creek an' I didn't bring my paddle."

Pamela narrowed her eyes, more than a little confused by the biker's colorful language. "Uh… whut?"

"I need your help, Pam."

"Are you high?  Did you take an overdose?"

Despite the serious situation, Robin couldn't stop a dark chuckle from escaping her lips.  She was able to get on her feet, but it wasn't easy with her worthless left arm acting as a counterbalance.

"Not exactly, no."

"Those lights before…?  Was that you?"

"Lights?  No. It must've been the people hunting me."

"God, hunting you…?  Who?"

"A bunch o' douchebags. They shot me, the motherfuckers," Robin said, reaching inside her jacket and showing Pamela her blood-stained fingers.

"God!  I heard it!  Was it your biker friends?  Some friends they turned out to be!"

"Can we please save the lecture for later…?  I feel like freshly shredded shit…" Robin breathed, leaning against the doorjamb.

Pamela covered her mouth with her hand and let out a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a curse.  "All right. All right, come on… give me your hand… put your arm around my shoulder and I'll take you into my bathroom," she said, reaching for Robin's good arm.

"Thanks.  Hey… I almost forgot… I need that package there… the one that's wrapped in plastic," Robin said, nodding at an item on the ground just outside the door.

Pamela looked outside but couldn't recognize the strange shape. "Okay, I'll get it once you're in the bathroom. What is it?   It's too small to be-"

"It's co… it's evidence."

"Evidence?"

"Yeah," Robin said, groaning from the strain on her arm.

The two women turned into the bathroom and Pamela quickly reached for a small footstool that stood under the wash basin.

"Here. Sit down," she said, guiding the tall woman down onto the low footstool.

"What the fuck is this thing?  A kids' chair?  You have kids here?"

"No.  It's an old one. It's been here since my grandparents owned the cottage. I used it when I brushed my teeth back in the old days… when I was a little girl."

"Oh… don't forget the package.  Watch your back, it's heavy."

"Yeah, yeah, for Pete's sake.  Sheesh, it's too late for all this nonsense," Pamela said on her way down the hall, earning herself a few chuckles from the winged biker.

Pamela returned with the package and dumped it on the floor. "All right, what in Sam Hill is this thing?  Lead?  Gold?"

"No. Like I said, it's evidence. Come, help me take my jacket off," Robin said and began to remove the leather jacket with her good arm. As she took it off, a pile of sand formed at her feet that only grew in size when she tried to brush her hair.

"What did you do, fall down a dune?" Pamela said, staring at the sand. She took the jacket and hung it from a nail on the inside of the bathroom door.

"That's exactly what I did."

"Oh… I-"  Pamela stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the state of the biker's arm. The entire length of it was coated in blood and sand, and a steady trickle of drops ran down her fingers and ended up on the white tiles on the floor.  "Oh, God," she croaked, wincing in sympathy.

"It feels even worse, lemme tell you."

"I have a first aid kit, but… but… this is… uh, let me get it," Pamela said and ran into the bedroom.

She soon came back and unzipped the small pack she was holding.  She stared at the cotton swabs, the rolls of gauze, the adhesive bandages and the Chill Spray and wondered how on Earth she was going to do it.
"Do you have any disinfectant?" Robin said, taking off her blood-soaked wristwatch and putting it on the edge of the wash basin.

"Uh, I d- I don't know…"

"Here, let me take the first aid kit. I have some experience with treating wounds."

"Good… because I don't!"

"I kinda guessed that from your blank stare just now," Robin said with a hoarse chuckle.

As the biker went to work trying to disinfect the wound, Pamela walked around the imposing figure to get to the cabinet above the toilet.  "Uhhh… your hair is a real mess."

"So cut it off."

"Are you mad?  You have wonderful hair!  The hairbrush has been invented, you know!"

Acting on a whim, Pamela reached into the cabinet, took one of her brushes and went to work on straightening out the biker's black locks.

---

"Uh, what was it you said your name was?  You told me down at the grocery store, but I… uh, I've forgotten," Pamela said after untangling the worst of the bird's nests in the biker's hair.

"My nickname is Lone Star, but my real name is Robin. Robin Kendall. Hi."

"Hi. Oh, this is so unbelievably surreal," Pamela said and put away the brush.

"Yeah, no shit.  I don't even know what that word means, but I agree with you."

"It means that it's a weird, weird situation," Pamela said with a chuckle.

Robin removed one of the cotton swabs and saw to her satisfaction that she had been able to get the bleeding to stop. She tried to flex her fingers, but found that they were still too numb to function properly.

"You can't move your fingers?"  Pamela said, crouching down in front of the biker.

"No."

"You were hit in the meaty part of your armpit… perhaps you have some nerve damage…?"

"I don't know.  I can feel a burning sensation around the wound, but my arm is completely gone. Jesus," Robin said hoarsely, lifting the near-dead flesh with her good hand.

"Robin, listen to me… we need to call an ambulance. We can't do more with the tools we have here.  You'll lose your arm if you don't get to a hospital," Pamela said, putting a hand on Robin's leather-clad knee.
"Yeah, I…"

"Do you want to take a shower to get the blood washed off your arm?"

"Well, it's tempting, but I'll just do it in the wash basin.  I ain't got time for a real shower. Thanks, anyway."

"It's not like it would take you twenty minutes, you know."

Getting up, Pamela dusted off her hands and began to collect the various items that went into the first aid kit, noting that nearly all of the cotton swabs had been used.

"Cute, but I don't want to get caught with my ass cheeks flappin' in the breeze. Do you think you could fix up some kind of sling instead?"

"Robin, wait… is there a risk the people who shot you might come back?  And why are they hunting you?  Does it have something to do with that package?"

Robin opened her mouth to reply but closed it again almost at once. She scrunched up her face, thinking about her friend Weedz and the creep she had killed. Taking a deep breath, she cocked her head and looked at Pamela with a steely gaze.

"Yes, there's a risk they could come back. Pam, I haven't told you everything."

"Oh?" Pamela said in a voice that was distinctly cooler than mere moments before.

"I… I killed a man earlier tonight," Robin said quietly, looking down at her boots.

Pamela's eyes went wide and her face lost a good deal of color. "Wh-what…?" she croaked, gliding backwards to get away from the biker. She moved herself up against the door, but discovered that she couldn't find the door handle behind her back.  "A-are you g-going to kill me, too?"

"No, for Chrissakes, Pamela!"  Robin said, shooting the author a look of pure exasperation.  "That fuckface tried to rape me!  … or wanted to, at least."

"Oh… Well… Oh. I see."

"I'm a federal agent working in a deep cover operation.  Look, can we go into the living room?  Please?  I want to sit on something soft."

"A federal agent…?  You…?  A federal agent?!  You're tattooed up the wazoo… you curse like a wharf rat… you wear black leather and a 'Deth Metal Rulz' T-shirt for crying out loud!  Excuse me, but I'm not believing you for a second!" Pamela said, throwing her arms in the air.

"One, I wasn't always a fed, and two, like I told you, I'm a deep cover operative. What the fuck do you expect one of those to look like, anyway?"

"Straight-laced, clean-cut, creases-in-her-skirt, water-combed hair…"

"Yeah, right.  Can we have this argument in the living room?  My ass is going numb, too," Robin said and got up from the tiny footstool. She brushed past the stunned Pamela, opened the door and walked through the hall and into the living room.

"Robin, wait… I'm sorry," Pamela said, running after the biker. "Are you really a federal agent?"

"Hell, yeah!" Robin said and hovered above Pamela's yellow linen couch.

"Ummm, before you sit down, would you mind if I put a towel on the seat…?"

"Why?  Did I crap my pants?" Robin said, touching her rear end.

"Uh, no, but… uh, I just don't want blood on the yellow cushions."

"All right."

Robin chuckled quietly as she watched Pamela run into the bedroom and come back with a clean towel that she proceeded to fold out onto the couch.

Once the towel was in place, Robin sat down carefully, stretching her legs in under the coffee table.  "Ohhhhh, yeah. Much better," she said, grinning.

Pamela's telephone started ringing, and she hurried through the living room to pick it up - it was Sue.  "Yeah?" Pamela said, sitting down on a chair. Glancing at the biker, she wondered how she should tell her girlfriend about what had happened.

'Hey, baby.  What are you wearing?'

"Uhhh… I… uh, my blue boxers," Pamela said, turning away from Robin.

'Oooh, those are my favorites!  They fit you so well,' Sue said saucily.

"Yes. Ah, listen…"
'I'm not wearing much myself, actually. Just a sheath.  It's a hot night here in the Big City. I'm just twisting and turning to find a cool spot on the bed…'  Sue breathed.

Pamela blushed furiously and looked at Robin out of the corner of her eye. "Oh,
Sue, that sounds… uh…"
'It feels even better.  Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story, baby?  I've
found a good one on the Internet.'

Pamela's hand flew up to pinch the bridge of her nose.  "Oh… Sue… I'm sorry, but the heat has given me a headache.  I've just had an Aspirin and I'm off to bed. Can we take a rain check on the story?"

'Oh, but I was so much looking forward to reading you some smut!'

"I know, and it was such a cute thought… but…"

'On the other hand, it's more fun to read it in person. That way, we can act out the scenes as we get to 'em!'

"Uh, yeah."

'Okay. Sweet dreams, baby.  Don't let the bed bugs bite.  Love you,' Sue said and blew Pamela a kiss through the line.

Pamela turned even further away from Robin and covered her mouth with her hand. "Love you, too, honey.  Talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

'You betcha. Nighty-night!'

"Good night, Sue."  Sighing deeply, Pamela closed the phone and put it on the table, already hating herself for fibbing to her girlfriend.

"Who was that?" Robin said.

"Personal business.  Robin, you never answered my question.  Why were you shot?  What were you doing out there?"  Pamela said as she moved over to the other chair.

"I was shot because… shit, my throat is as dry as sand paper… you wouldn't happen to have a beer, would you?  Any brand will do as long as it's cold."

"I don't drink beer. Sorry. I have some Cola if you want it?"

"Yeah, okay.  As I was saying… those fuckers shot me because I was made. We had set up a deal with-"

"'Made' ?  What does that mean?" Pamela said as she came back from the fridge with a can of Pepsi.

"Recognized. Anyway, we had set up a deal where they were gonna deliver thirty kilos of blow in exchange of seven hundred gee.  Well, what they didn't know was that the greenbacks were funny.  When they turned on the lights, one of those beetroots made me, and-  Huh?  Are you okay?"

Pamela sat with her mouth agape, trying to decipher the weird words coming out of Robin's mouth.  "I didn't catch any of that," she said after a little while.

"In short, a drug deal went wrong. Those fuckers threatened to gang rape me. I killed one of them, and they killed a friend of mine in return."

"Drugs?  That package out in my bathroom contains drugs?!"  Pamela said and shot up from her chair.

"Ten kilos of pure, uncut cocaine. Roughly a quarter of a million Dollars' worth. Ten times that on the street… easily."

"Get it out of here!  I don't want drugs in my house!"

"Calm down, man, it's not gonna come out of the package and kill ya. It's evidence and I have to deliver it to my controller."

"But…!  But…!  How do you even know it's really cocaine?  Perhaps they were trying to trick you, have you thought of that?  Maybe it's baking powder or flour or something?"

"I doubt it."

"Can't you test it like the Detectives do on tv?  You know, stick a knife into it and taste it?"  Pamela said and sat down again.

Robin emptied her Pepsi and crushed the can between her fingers.  "Well, that's certainly grand of you. You don't want it in your house, but you want me to sample it?  Even a grain of that shit could lead to addiction."

"Oh… I'm sorry, I didn't know. I guess that's not a good suggestion, then."

"No.  I've been deep undercover with the Stingers for nearly eight months trying to set a trap for a brutal son of a bitch called Josef Stepanek… ever heard of him?" Robin said and leaned back on the couch. When her shoulder began to ache almost at once, she moved back ahead and sighed deeply.

"No…?"

"He's the brains behind a drug ring that has infested the entire State. He and his gang of ruthless cutthroats are completely self-sufficient. They produce the drugs in their own labs, they have their own distribution chains and they even have their own cadres of street pushers.  All in all, they're the State's number one suppliers."
"But how would an undercover operation stop that?"

"It wouldn't at first, but by startin' with a small amount, like thirty kilos, we'd gain their trust. Eventually, those fuckers would agree to a big deal, and we'd put their balls in the meat grinder."

"God, I must live such a sheltered life.  My idea of having a good time is adding a slice of lemon to my mineral water while I'm writing my stupid little stories…" Pamela said, shaking her head slowly.

"Oh, don't knock mineral water. The Cocktail Hour down at the Missionary often turns into a real wild affair, dont'cha know," Robin added tongue-in-cheek, chuckling dryly over her own joke.

The joke broke the tension and Pamela got up from her chair and walked over to the door that led to the hall.  "Robin, I'm just going to put on some proper clothes. It's nothing personal, I just don't feel comfortable talking to a complete stranger in my underwear… uh, not that you're in my underw-  uh, that *definitely* didn't come out right.  I'll only be a few minutes."

"Sure," Robin said, sneaking a peek at the author's rear end as she turned around and walked through the hall.

CHAPTER 3 - NIGHT

After reaching the coastal road, Sandor Garkony turned off the Jeep's engine and climbed up on the seats. Holding a pair of night vision binoculars, he swept the entire horizon from north to south, hoping against hope to find a trace of the missing biker.

He could see that lights were on in several of the cottages in the area, but he knew it would require a miracle to find the right one.

Grunting, he stepped off the seat and jumped down from the Jeep, pulling the strap for his AK47 further up his shoulder to stop it from slipping down.

'Sandor, Sandor, come in,' a voice suddenly said from the walkie-talkie he had on his belt.

"Sandor here. Did you find the bitch yet, Zoran?"

'Negative.  I've checked all three houses on this road, but there's nothing here.  Two were empty, the last one had a couple of old fuckers in it.'

"All right. Go back to the coastal road and await further instructions. Sandor out."

'I copy.'

In frustration, Sandor swept the horizon again with the night vision binoculars, but he still wasn't able to see anything.  He knew that the moment he was dreading was approaching fast - it wouldn't be long until he had to call his boss to tell him of the botched exchange.

"At least we got the money and two of the packages," he said to himself, tapping his knuckles on the two cases in the back of the Jeep.

"Miroslav, this is Sandor. Miroslav, this is Sandor. I need a status update," Sandor said into the walkie-talkie.

Miroslav came on at once, reporting back in his own language, but Sandor just rolled his eyes and keyed the mic.  "In English, ya dumb Polish fuck.  I can't speak that bucket of puke you call a language," he growled.

A brief delay later, Miroslav's voice came in loud and clear in English. 'Nothing here, Sandor. There are people in most of the cottages, but they're all families. No bikers.'

"All right. Keep searching. Once you run out of cottages, go up to the coastal road and wait for me.  Sandor out."

Wanting to use the brief respite from the chase to do something useful, Sandor flipped down the small gate at the back of the open-topped Jeep and put his AK47 down on the metal floor. After clicking on a small penlight and putting it between his teeth, he ejected the clip and studied it intently, trying to figure out why the assault rifle had jammed on him.

When he couldn't see anything wrong with the clip, he turned the light at the rifle and quickly noticed that a spent casing had got stuck in the ejection port.

Grunting, he began to work the various locks and latches on the rifle itself, ending up with a handful of metal parts. After throwing the jammed casing away, he swiftly and efficiently assembled the rifle - something he had done a million times in his former career as a Staff Sergeant in the Hungarian Army before his dishonorable discharge for stealing weapons from the base he was stationed at.

'Sandor, this is Ferenc.  Sandor?'

"Sandor listening. This better be good news, Ferry," Sandor said and pulled the fixed rifle over his shoulder.
'I just found a motorcycle. It's still warm.  I'm down on a road called Owl Lane.  Do you think I should check it out further?'

"You've found a motorcycle…?"
'Yes, and it's still warm.  It's a green Kawasaki.'

At once, Sandor closed his eyes and shook his head. "Ferry, you stupid piece of shit!  The bitch was riding a black Harley and she left it behind when she took off!  You fuckin' moron better find me something good, or I'll kick your ass all the way back to the old country once you get back here!"

'Uh, Ferry out.'

"Moron," Sandor said out loud, putting the walkie-talkie back on his belt. He sighed deeply, knowing that the time had come - he had to call his boss.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, he took the cell phone from the glove box and activated the scrambler. Once all the LEDs were green, he turned on the phone and called headquarters.

'It's Hristo.'

"This is Sandor.  I need to speak with Mr. Stepanek."

Several minutes went by, and Sandor was already beginning to think that they had cut him off for good when there were a few clicks at the other end of the connection.

'Stepanek,' the crime lord said in his characteristic gravelly voice.

"Mr. Stepanek, this is Sandor.  We're, uh… having trouble locating the target."

'I didn't quite hear that. Did you say you were having trouble finding one woman?  Surely not, Sandor.'

Sandor knew exactly what Josef Stepanek meant, and he grimaced nervously and unbuttoned his uniform jacket to get some fresh air to his suddenly sweaty body.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Stepanek. She's a clever bitch, that's for sure. She's around here somewhere, but I just don't know where to look.  It's a huge area."

'Don't you have three men with you?'

"Yes, but they're not exact-"

'Find her, Sandor, and the ten kilos she took from us.  It would be really bad for your health if you didn't,' the crime lord said and hung up.
Sandor grimaced again, turned off the cell and the scrambler and threw them both into the glove box.

-*-*-*-

Wearing cut-off jeans and a blue, oversized shirt where the sleeves had been rolled up, Pamela came back into the living room and sat down opposite the tough-looking biker.

"How come you're all alone out here in the wilderness?  A chick as pretty as you must have a boyfriend somewhere," Robin said.

"Well… I do have someone, but it's a girlfriend, actually.  Does that bother you?" Pamela said, taking a pillow and clutching it to her chest.

"Are you afraid that I'm gonna bash your melon in for being gay?"

"Something like that.  Bikers usually aren't the most accepting or progressive people."

"Some of us are. Hell, some of us are even first class, gold star dykes," Robin said, pointing her index finger at herself.

"Oh… but please don't use that word. We're lesbians, not that other thing."

"There's a difference?"

"But of course there is!  The d-word is a derogatory term used to-"

"I have to remember that. Personally, I don't give a shit what people call me. If I don't like their 'tude, I'll just take them down."

"I'm sure that works for you, but some of us don't have your strength," Pamela said and got up from her chair.  Going over to the table, she picked up her laptop and brought it over to the couch where she sat down next to the tough biker.

"True."

"Robin, what's going to happen now?"

"Well… I'm not too sure, but there is one thing I do know. The plan was that I should contact my controller as soon as I had the blow.  I didn't, so I'm guessing they'll come and look for me at first light."

"So all we have to do is to survive the night and we'll be safe…?"

"Something like that, yeah," Robin said and put her good arm across Pamela's shoulders.
Pamela cast a quick glance at Robin and then moved away to get out of the biker's reach.  "I'm sorry, I'm not into free love and all that. Like I told you, I already have a girlfriend and I love her very much," she said out loud - however, the train of thought continued in her mind: '…but if we had met with no strings attached, I would've ripped your leather pants off with my teeth by now.'

The thought made Pamela blush, and she looked out of a window to hide it.

"Aw, sheesh, Pam… I just did that to calm you down.  I thought all you arty types were touchy-feely and shit," Robin said with a laugh.

"We kiss on the cheek and throw hugs all the time, I'll give you that. Even when the other person smells of week-old sweat."

"Uh-huh?  And I thought I was the one roughin' it.  Was she the one who called before?"

"Yes."

"Did she ask what you were wearin'?"  Robin said with a cheeky grin.

"Ahem. How is your arm?" Pamela said to steer the conversation back to a safe topic.

"Meh.  Could've been better… could've been worse.  It's still numb, but at least it's warm so I don't think there's a risk of gangrene," Robin said, poking her dead arm with her thumb.

"God!  Don't joke about things like that…"

"Did you want to show me somethin' on your 'puter, or did you just take it over 'cos you wanted to have a nice, warm lap…?"

Pamela looked down at her laptop that was still powered up.  She quickly saved the document she was working on and exited the word processing program.  "No, I was… uh, just wondering if you wanted to take a look at one of my stories…?"

"Sure.  What'cha call 'em?  Body rippers and cuddlies?"

Pamela rolled her eyes and guffawed loudly. Her instincts took over and she reached out and slapped Robin's good arm.  "No, silly, bodice rip… oh…"

When she realized what she had done, her voice slowly trailed off and she looked wide-eyed at the leather-clad biker whose tattooed, bronzed, muscular arm she had just slapped like it belonged to a ten-year old schoolgirl that needed to be chastised.

Robin tried to shoot Pamela a steely gaze but she couldn't hold it for more than a few seconds. Eventually, a big grin graced her features and she leaned her head back and let out a belly-laugh.  "Holy fuck!  You shoulda seen the way your face turned whiter than albino shit there, Pam.  Priceless."
"I'm… I'm… I'm sorry, Robin. It was just instinct," Pamela mumbled.

"Nah, I'm cool.  You're definitely a spirited little chick, ya know that?"

"Uh…"

"Lemme see, when was the last time someone gave me a slap…?  I reckon it was in a bar down Texas way a couple a' years ago… some boozed-up dude who did it on a dare.  One minute later, he only had two teeth left in his mouth, the rest were on the floor. He's probably still looking for 'em," Robin said, leaning in towards Pamela and sending her a big wink.

"I'm really sorry that I slapped your arm. Please don't knock my teeth out," Pamela said in an impossibly small voice.

"Aw, man!  Of course I'm not gonna do that!  Jesus!"

"Thank you. So you've been in Texas?  Is that why your nickname is Lone Star?"

"Mmmm-yeah.  When I was younger, I made good money over there.  Of course, one day, I made a deal with a dude who turned out to be an undercover agent in a joint venture between the Bureau and the Texas Rangers. Busted me but good, he did.  To cut a long shit in half, the suits gave me an offer I couldn't refuse and I ended up bein' a Federal agent workin' deep cover."

"Oh… Robin, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure…?"

"It's a very personal question…"

"Go ahead."

"Don't you feel even the slightest bit remorseful for killing a man tonight?" Pamela said, this time placing a warm hand on the biker's arm to underline her words.

"Well… no. Not really."

"But… you took his life.  He might have had a family, and…"

"Look… if I hadn't pulled the trigger, those guys would have raped me.  I'm strong, but I couldn't have stopped all three if they jumped me at once. It's a fuckin' tough world out there, and sometimes, you have to shoot first to be able to walk away. You know what'm sayin'?"
"I think so, but I still-"

"What would you have done, Pam?"

"I d- don't know," Pamela said with a shrug. She sighed deeply, looking at the biker's muscular frame.

"I hope you'll never be in that position. Hey, fuck all this depressing talk. Were you gonna show me your body rippers or what?  I'm dyin' for a good shot o' porn right now."

"Uh, well, it's not exactly porn, but, uh… I'll see what I can find.  Hang on," Pamela said and began to look through her documents.

-*-*-*-

Sandor Garkony was relentlessly pacing back and forth in front of the Jeep that he had parked on the verge of the coastal road.  He was chain-smoking, and the trail he was pounding on the blacktop was marked by nearly a dozen cigarette butts.

'Sandor, this is Ferry. Sandor, this is Ferry.'

Stopping at once, Sandor removed the walkie-talkie from his belt and threw away the cigarette he was smoking.

"Go ahead, Ferry. Did you find another green Kawasaki?"

'No, a blue Mazda.'

"Ferry…" Sandor said with a dangerous growl.

'It's just like the one that left when we came with the boss this afternoon. Except this one has got the hood up.'

"Oh, why the fuck do you think I car-… wait a minute… the bitch spoke to the driver of the Mazda. For fuck's sake, Ferry, you may be onto something! Where are you?"  Sandor said as he was running back to the Jeep. In a flash, he had jumped up into it and had started the engine.

'At the house furthest down the road.'

"What's the name of the road, you idiot?!"

'Oh… Sparrow Lane… I think.'

"Sparrow Lane, all right.  Don't do anything until I get there. Okay?"

'Okay, Sandor. Ferry out.'
"Miroslav, Zoran… Sparrow Lane… do you copy?  Sparrow Lane," Sandor said and began to maneuver the large Jeep across the narrow coastal road.

'Copy, Sandor,' Zoran said, quickly followed by an identical reply by Miroslav, except that his was in Polish.  For once, Sandor couldn't be bothered to yell at the mercenary.

-*-*-*-

Ferenc Puszkas - a forty-four year old ex-truck mechanic in the Hungarian Army - ran along the sandy road to get back to the last cottage. He cursed the fact that he was not only carrying a heavy Uzi and an even heavier backpack, his boots were ill-fitting as well, making his feet and his calves sore.

Finally arriving back at the cottage, he hunched over to be a smaller target and hurriedly closed the distance between himself and the blue Mazda.

'It's definitely the same car… Oooh, Mr. Stepanek is gonna give me a bonus for this!' he thought, punching the air with his fist - unfortunately, the gesture made the butt of the Uzi hit the Mazda's left rear fender, creating a CLONK that seemed as loud as a firecracker in the silent night.

-*-*-*-

"Kill the lights!" Robin whispered hoarsely, jumping up from the couch.

"Wh-what?"

"Kill the fuckin' lights!  We've got company!"

"Oh, God," Pamela said and quickly ran over to the lightswitch.  She flipped it, leaving the living room in darkness, save for the electronic sheen that came from the laptop.  "Oh!" Pamela said out loud and ran back to close the lid.

Robin moved silently over to one of the windows and pushed the curtain aside so she could look out.  At first, her eyes hadn't compensated for the low light levels, but after a few heartbeats, she was able to get a more detailed picture.

"There's someone hiding behind your Mazda," she whispered.

"Vandals?"

Robin chuckled and looked back at the nervous author. "You know, I don't think so."

"Oh…"

"Do you have a gun here?"

"No."

"Baseball bat?"

"No!"

"Hmmm.  Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," Robin said and ran out into the hall.

-*-*-*-

Ferenc suddenly got his only bright idea of the day, and he squatted down and unscrewed the valves on the Mazda's tires - soon, the air was whistling out of them as they deflated.

Grinning broadly, he moved over to the panel next to the front door and began to touch the edge to find the latch that would open it.

-*-*-*-

In the meantime, Sandor had picked up Miroslav and Zoran, and the three of them were bumping down Sparrow Lane on their way to the last cottage.  Once they reached it, it didn't take them more than two seconds to realize that they were in the wrong location.

Throwing his arms in the air, Sandor reached for the walkie-talkie on his belt. "Ferry, this is Sandor… you did say Sparrow Lane, right?"  the mercenary said, trying to temper his anger.

'I copy, Sandor.  Yes. Sparrow Lane.  Where the hell are you?  I'm about to move in,' Ferenc said in a barely understandable whisper.

"Where the hell are YOU, moron?  We're at Sparrow Lane, but the place is fuckin' deserted!"

'Oh… I guess it's not Sparrow Lane, then…'

"No shit, Ferry.  Which of the roads is it?"

No reply.

"Ferry?  Ferry, do you copy?"

When no answer was forthcoming, Sandor threw the walkie-talkie down on the seat and roared out his frustration.

-*-*-*-

At the exact same time, Ferenc flailed his arms madly in the air, trying to remove the heavy leather jacket that someone had thrown on his head. The jacket was quickly followed by an incredibly hard punch to his face that made his jaw rattle in its hinges.

Staggering around on the sand in a red haze, he tripped himself up and fell face-first down onto the rear deck of the Mazda, whacking his forehead against the small bump at the rear of the trunk.

Moaning and groaning, he was too dazed to stand up straight, and he slipped to the ground, ending up on his rear end next to the car.  Moments later, his lights were ruthlessly turned off by a well-aimed kick to the chin.

Robin took a step back and flexed her fingers, looking with contentment at the downed man.

"Hey, good thing those fuckers shot my left arm. I only use that to wipe my ass.  My right's my strong arm," she said to Pamela who had crept up to stand in the doorway.

"D-did you kill him?" she said in a tiny voice, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Nope. He's just listenin' to the birdies."

Robin leaned down and removed her jacket from the man's face.  His bloody nose had left a smear on the inside, but Robin just shrugged and put the jacket across the back of the Mazda.

"Oh, lookie here… now we got ourselves a little pleasure rod," Robin continued as she held up the Uzi.

"I don't want guns in my house, Robin."

"Sorry, toots.  You're just gonna have to live with it.  This is our only friend right now."

With a sigh, Pamela turned around and went back into the cottage.

Shaking her head, Robin crouched down and tore off Ferenc's backpack. Quickly rummaging through it, she found three spare clips for the Uzi, a bar of chocolate, a few dollars and a can of beer.

"Awright!  Now we're talkin'," Robin said and immediately cracked it open. After draining half of it in one gulp, she carefully put it down on the sand and began to tear a strip out of Ferenc's army pants.

Once she had wadded the fabric up into a ball, she forced the man's mouth open and stuck the gag into it.  "Sweet dreams, Sunshine… oh, your belt… mind if I borrowed it?"

Ferenc wasn't in a position to object, so Robin worked the belt buckle, pulled it out of his pants and quickly tied his hands together behind his back.

"Yep, that should do it," she said and drained the rest of the beer before getting up.

Listening intently, she thought she could hear a Jeep drive around in the area, but she judged it to be some distance away based on the muffled engine note.

She put on her leather jacket, moving her injured arm very carefully down the sleeve.  Once she had the jacket on proper, she put the three clips into her pants pocket, unfolded the Uzi's nylon strap and put it over her shoulder.

"Let's go hunt those fuckers," she whispered to herself, dusting off her hands. She tried to flex her fingers on her left hand, but she still couldn't get them to do anything.  Sighing deeply, she turned around and walked back into the cottage.

"Pam?" she said, looking around for the author.

'I'm in the living room.'

Robin walked through the hall and put her good hand on the doorjamb. She soon spotted Pamela sitting on a chair in the middle of the room in semi-darkness, looking very much like a lost little girl.

As Pamela looked up, her eyes locked onto the barrel of the Uzi that was just barely visible behind Robin's leather jacket.

"I'm going out for a little while. I want to see if I can't cut those fuckers off at the pass… so to speak," Robin said in a steely voice.

"How many do you think there are?"

"I don't know for sure. At least one more, probably two or three."

"What if they come here while you're away?"

"The dunes are too big even for a four-wheel-drive so they can only come straight up the road. What's it called, anyway?"

"Seagull Lane."

"Right. Well, I'm going up that until I reach the coastal road.  There's no fuckin' way I'll miss 'em."

"But what the hell do you want me to do in the mean time?!" Pamela shouted, jumping up from the chair and wringing her hands in front of her chest.  "I'm an author for Goodness' sakes!  I don't know anything about guns and… and… drugs or any of this… and I don't want to know anything about it!"

"Pam-"

"Right now, I don't know what to believe about the whole mess. I'm not even sure I really believe that you're a federal agent!  To me, it just looks like you got the short end of the stick in a drug deal, and now you're using me to justify killing your opponents, or whatever the hell they are."

"I'm not," Robin said tersely.

"Robin, you killed a man tonight and you didn't even flinch when I asked you about it!  I'm so frightened I can hardly breathe, but you treat it like it's some kind of game, and you know what?  You look like you're enjoying yourself!"

Robin's face fell and she began to chew on the inside of her lip.  After a brief but heavily laden pause, she sighed, spun around on her heel and walked away.

Stunned over Robin's unexpected reaction, it took Pamela several seconds to realize that the tough biker had been hurt by her tirade.  It wasn't until she heard the front door click shut that it dawned on her that a human being was actually hiding under the biker's tougher-than-bedrock exterior.

Her eyes suddenly moist, Pamela set off after Robin to apologize, but when she tore the door open, the biker was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn," she whispered, wiping her eyes. Sighing, she closed the front door and walked back into the living room, concentrating on how she could protect herself in case the drug dealers came back.

---

Robin stomped along the sandy road, kicking up a small sandstorm with every step. Her face was set in stone and her jaw was grinding incessantly; her mind was constantly going over the things Pamela had said to her.

'All in all, she's right,' she thought. 'I do enjoy a good fight. And maybe I did get a little careless when I planned the deal… but Goddammit, I haven't been scalded like that since I first tried weed… and that was twenty-five fuckin' years ago!'

A small rock popped up in front of Robin's boot, and she angrily kicked it off the road with such force that it flew into the shrubbery.

'She's a cute little chick, no doubt about that, but she's so far removed from the real world it's just not funny. Jesus, she would crap her pants if she knew what really went on out here. Out here, it's kill or be killed.  Hustle or be hustled. Screw them all before they can-'

Robin's train of thought was rudely interrupted by the sound of an engine coming towards her. Looking up in surprise, she could see a set of headlights come bumping down the road, headed straight for her.

Yelping, she dove for cover and quickly made the Uzi ready to fire.  As the vehicle crept closer to her, she dug herself so deeply into the side of the road that only the barrel of the gun and a few tufts of black hair were visible.

She observed the headlights closely, soon coming to the conclusion that it wasn't the Jeep she had seen Stepanek's men use earlier - instead of two round lamps, the vehicle had four rectangular ones.

Suddenly the vehicle pulled over to the left a good ninety yards ahead of Robin's position and drove into the lot of one of the cottages on Seagull Lane. Straining her ears, she could hear first one, then another door slam shut, quickly followed by someone yawning loudly.

Moments later, Robin could hear two people talking; a man and a woman discussing how strenuous their trip had been.  Taking a deep breath, she got up from the ditch she had thrown herself into and carried on along the bumpy road.

Once the new car's engine had stopped, Robin's ears picked up the familiar sound of the Jeep's harsher engine driving on one of the other roads. Nodding to herself, she swung the Uzi back over her shoulder and picked up the pace.

-*-*-*-

Pamela tried to write a few paragraphs in the story she was working on, but she couldn't keep her concentration and ended up writing gibberish that she had to delete.

She had boarded herself up in the bedroom - with a chair jammed underneath the doorhandle - and was hiding under her quill blanket with her laptop and a small flashlight as her only company.

She couldn't understand why time had seemed to slow down to a crawl - she only looked at the laptop's clock once in a while, but time rarely progressed more than two or three minutes between each check. Eventually, she started to wonder if she had been caught up in an episode of the old Twilight Zone TV show. 

'Boy, I really put my foot in my mouth with Robin. For someone who's trying to make a living from writing books about sensitive, romantic people, I can be a really insensitive fool sometimes.  Of course she had to react to the threat of rape… but why did she have to kill him?  Why couldn't she just have run away…?'

Sighing, she returned to the document and began to read the last paragraph out loud.

" '… had made up her mind.  She knew that her Mother and her Father would be terribly angry with her, but she had no other option.  Gently caressing the bump on her belly, she took another step toward certain death.' "

Pamela rubbed her chin and stared at the bright white laptop screen. Suddenly feeling inspired, her fingers found the keyboard and began to clickety-clickety almost on their own accord.

" 'Quite literally teetering on the brink of eternity, a voice suddenly boomed through her mind:  Mathilda!  Mathilda, I am the spirit of your unborn child! Heed my warning, Mathilda!  If you take this final step, if you commit the ultimate sin, you will never be allowed passage to our Holy Father's blessed Kingdom.  Your spirit will be doomed to roam the shores of Hell for all eternity!  Mathilda!  Hear me!' "

Pamela gradually stopped typing, once again staring at what she had written. Scrunching up her face, she highlighted the paragraph and deleted the whole thing.  "Nope, the wrong direction entirely… and too many Mathildas," she said out loud.

" 'Quite literally teetering on the brink of eternity, a voice suddenly boomed through her mind: Math-"

Ding!  the laptop suddenly chimed, displaying a warning message on the screen: "Warning: CPU temperature too high. Controlled shutdown recommended. Continued use can cause freezing and / or loss of data."

"Oh, great, that was all I needed," Pamela said, saved the document and shut down the laptop.

Rolling her eyes, she turned off the small flashlight, flipped the blanket off her and crawled out into the dark bedroom.  She tip-toed over to the window and peeked out, but she wasn't able to see anything.

---

Fifteen minutes later, Robin came trundling back along Seagull Lane, sweaty, thirsty and angry - mostly with herself for not finding Stepanek's men, but also with Pamela for scalding her like that.

Reaching the blue Mazda, she checked up on the man she had gagged. He hadn't moved, but instead of being out cold, he appeared to be sleeping.  Robin harrumphed, grabbed hold of the man and dragged him further away from the road. As she did so, the man woke up and tried to wiggle free from her grip, but a swift punch to the chin silenced him.

After taking care of that little business, she walked over to the front door of the cottage and raised her hand to knock.  Inches before her knuckles made contact with the door, she stopped, realizing that it was quite unlikely that Pamela would want to speak with her again… perhaps she didn't even want to see her again.

Sighing, Robin lowered her hand and began to move away from the door - but before she had even completed that thought, the door flew open, spooking her so badly that she took a long step backwards.

Without warning, Pamela stormed out of the cottage and threw herself at Robin. Wrapping her surprisingly strong arms around the biker's leather jacket, she gave the tall woman a big squeeze and a little shake.

"Robin, I'm so sorry for the things I said before. Can you forgive me?  I was just scared, that's all, and when I'm scared, I tend to ramble on and on," Pamela whispered into Robin's ear.

"Uh… oh, I… uh… sure.  I… uh, forgive you," Robin stuttered, burying her nose deep into the author's short hair. Sniffing the golden locks that held traces of expensive shampoo and the author's natural scent, she felt her anger melt away faster than she could spell her own name.

Pamela pulled back, but kept her hands on Robin's arms. "You forgive me?"

"Sure.  Hey, your hair smells fuckin' great.  Most women I meet have hair that smells of cigarette smoke, cheap booze and even cheaper perfume."

"Thank you. You can borrow some of my conditioner if you like."

"Uhhh, okay…"

"Did you see anything out there?"

"No, but I heard their Jeep a couple of times.  They'll get here sooner or later. But we'll be ready for 'em," Robin said and patted the Uzi.

Pamela nodded and began to stroll back towards the cottage.

"Pam, ya don't mind if I come in, do ya?  I need to get a load off… and I think my wound has been seeping a little."

"Oh, why didn't you say so at once?  Come on," Pamela said, grabbed the tough biker by her hand and pulled her into the cottage like a puppy dog on a leash.
"Deja vu or what?" Pamela said as she clicked on the light in the bathroom and led the sweaty biker inside.

"If ya say so. I don't know what the hell it means, but it sounds sexy, so I'm cool with it," Robin said and put the Uzi down in the corner of the bathroom to keep it within safe distance in case they fell under attack.

Robin groaned slightly as she stripped off her leather jacket. Several drops of blood trickled down from the formerly white bandage and fell to the floor, staining the white tiles.

"You're in real trouble, Robin," Pamela said, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I know. It's hurtin' like a five-dollar hooker…"

"You need some strong painkillers… but the only ones I have here are some I've been given for my, uh… to take the edge off my menstrual cramps," Pamela said, scratching her cheek.

"I don't think they'd work.  Anyway, I need to clean and redress the wound. Would ya mind holdin' my shirt?"

In one, fluid motion, Robin whipped off her muscleshirt, revealing that not only was she tattooed all over her chest, she wasn't wearing a bra.

A split second later, Pamela blushed crimson red all over her neck and face, and she spun around so fast that she bumped her forehead against the inside of the bathroom door.  "Ohmigod!" she spluttered, twisting Robin's shirt so hard that she nearly tore it in half.  'I love my girlfriend… I love my girlfriend… I love my girlfriend… I love my girlfriend…' she chanted to herself to get the vision of Robin's full breasts out of her mind's eye.

"Gimme a break… I'm quite sure you've seen a pair o' tits before, Pam," Robin said as she opened the hot water tap.

"Uh… buh… not quite like those. Oh my God, it must have hurt you terribly… getting all those tattoos, I mean…"

"Nah. Nothin' a bottle of Bourbon couldn't cure. The nipple stud was worse, though."

'…love my girlfriend… I love my girlfriend… I lov-'  "Nipple stud?" Pamela said, turning around to sneak a peek - the nipple on Robin's left breast was indeed pierced by a small, silvery stud. Looking at the jewelry, Pamela instinctively licked her lips, a gesture that Robin caught while she was looking into the mirror.

"You interested?" the biker said with a grin.
"Whut?  No!  I'm just… no!" Pamela spluttered, spinning back around. She managed to avoid headbutting the door again, but her face was redder than ever. 'I love my girlfriend!  I love my girlfriend!  I love my girlfriend!  I love my-'

"Jeez, you'd think I'd shown you my bearded clam or something.  Damn, girl," Robin said with a chuckle.

"No, that wouldn't be as bad. I've already seen most of your tattoos."

Robin abruptly stopped cleaning the wound and turned around to stare wide-eyed at the blushing author.  "Man, you take naïve to a whole new level… my pussy, Pam."

"Oh…"

"You write porn… what do you call it in your stories?"

"I don't write porn!"

"But it's gotta make an appearance, huh?"  Robin said, going back to cleaning the wound.

"I guess."

"What do you call it?"

"The love temple… the magic tunnel… the golden palace… things like that," Pamela said, feeling that her facial skin was about to peel off from all the red-hot blushing.

"No shit?  The golden palace?  I gotta remember that one," Robin said with a throaty chuckle.

"Please don't make fun of me. If I wrote puss… I mean, the p-word in a story, my publisher would tear up my contract in an instant."

"Tough world, huh?  I'm not making fun of you, Pam.  Hell, I think it's too cute that you're so innocent. Need my shirt now, if ya don't mind," Robin said and tried to pry her shirt out of Pamela's grip.

Once she was properly dressed, Robin leaned down and placed a small kiss on Pamela's forehead.  "That'll stop the bruise from throbbin'," she said with a wink before walking out into the hall.

"Uhhh… thanks," Pamela said stunned, touching her forehead where Robin had kissed her. The first thoughts through her mind were that she couldn't believe how soft the tough biker's lips had been, nor how gently she had administered the kiss.

'You comin' or what?'  Robin said from the living room.

"Uhhh… yeah. Yeah."
-*-*-*-

Sandor turned off the Jeep's engine, grabbed the night vision binoculars and stood up on the driver's seat. He slowly scanned the horizon, stopping a few times to investigate a few things that caught his eye. One of those things was the rear end of a Mazda Miata parked next to a dark cottage.

"Zoran, what's the name of the road we're on?"  he said without taking the binoculars down.

Zoran Duricko - a thirty-nine year old Serb who had been lured into Josef Stepanek's organization by the prospects of easy money and an easy way into the Land of Plenty - slapped a clip into his assault rifle and held it ready. "Seagull Lane," he said in a hard, menacing voice.

"Good. Let's leave the Jeep here, it makes too much noise," Sandor said, jumped off the vehicle and grabbed his AK47 from the passenger seat.  "Miroslav, stay here in case they get past us.  Zoran, you're with me."

Wearing a dark grin, Zoran worked the action on his rifle and moved into the darkness.

CHAPTER 4 - DAWN

Sandor crouched down behind the Mazda, looking at the drops of blood and the scuffle marks on the sand. Craning his neck, he could see a pair of boots sticking out near the front of the car. He turned around and waved his hand, silently telling Zoran to check it out.

Nodding, the other mercenary ran up to the front of the Mazda and knelt down next to the near-comatose Ferenc.  After checking the pulse of the downed mercenary, he ran behind the car and back to Sandor.

"It's Ferry.  He's still alive, but out cold. He's gagged," Zoran whispered into Sandor's ear.

"That moron can go fuck himself.  Stand by to fire at my command. We've got to waste this biker bitch, Zoran," Sandor said and worked the action on his AK47.

"You got it."

Running back up to the front of the Mazda, Zoran knelt down behind the car's fender and put his AKM assault rifle across the hood. He took a deep breath to calm his aim and then looked expectantly at Sandor.

---

"Robin, I don't understand why you don't want me to call the police. They're trained for this sort of thing," Pamela said and sat down in the couch.

"A SWAT team would be trained for this kinda event, not some backwater flatfoot who's so fat he hasn't seen his dick in a decade."

"Just for the record, Sheriff Sorenson isn't like that at all. He's our age and he's a very nice man.  I had a meeting with him last summer when he explained the dangers of using disposable tin-foil barbecues in the dunes."

"Oh, wow, he's a regular John Wayne, huh?"  Robin said with a chuckle.

"Hm!"

Suddenly Robin's sixth sense kicked in and she got up and strolled over to one of the windows. Looking outside, she thought she could see that something had changed, but she wasn't sure what it was.  "Hey, Pam, what time is it? My wristwatch crapped out on me when it was drenched in blood."

"Five to five, a.m…  Six hours past my bedtime. Why?"

"Dawn will come soon, right?"

"Usually, yeah.  Maybe in five or ten minutes."

Robin scrunched up her face and started biting her lip. Making up her mind, she went into the bathroom and took the Uzi.

"Oh, Robin… you know how I feel about that thing," Pamela said as the biker returned with the strap for the submachinegun slung over her good shoulder.

"I know, but I have a shitty feeling in my gut I haven't had since that day I got busted by that Texas Ranger," Robin said and made the Uzi ready to fire.

"Wh-… what do you mean?"

"We've got trouble comin'."

"Oh, God!" Pamela said and shot up from the couch. She ran over to stand next to Robin and pulled the curtain apart to look at her Mazda, exposing not only herself but Robin as well.
---

"There she is… there she fuckin' is!" Sandor whispered to himself. Hissing, he moved away from his hiding place and raised his weapon.
"Fire!" he shouted, depressing the AK47's trigger.

A moment later, burning hot lead spewed from the two assault rifles, peppering the wall of the summer cottage with holes and sending wood chips flying in all directions.

---

Without warning, the window Robin and Pamela were standing at exploded in a million fragments, and bullets went through the thin walls like hot knives through butter.

Pamela started shrieking at the top of her lungs, but Robin didn't have time to see if the author had been hit - instead, she simply shoved the petite woman out of the way with such force that she was practically thrown across the room.

Upon her landing, Pamela scrambled under the couch and buried her head in her arms, still screaming insanely. All around her, her belongings were shot to pieces and were raining down in large and small fragments - picture frames, the china, the television set, her books on the shelves, the lamp above the coffee table and even some of the cushions on the couch.

Robin dove into the bathroom and took the Uzi off her shoulder. After wrapping the strap tightly around her good arm, she popped back out, moved to the front door and returned fire almost at once, roaring out her anger at the attackers.

---

Sandor and Zoran had emptied their first clips and were busy reloading as Robin jumped out of the door and opened fire, shooting wildly at anything that moved.

Robin's first salvo almost cut Zoran in half, killing him on the spot and sending him flying backwards in a cloud of bright red blood.

Sandor was quicker, and he jumped into a forward roll that took him behind the Mazda where he quickly slapped a fresh clip into his AK and worked the action. Holding the rifle above the car, he kept the trigger down, pumping thirty rounds of hot lead towards the cottage without bothering to look where they landed.

Robin had noticed in time and had jumped forward and to the right to get away from his line of fire - but then her luck ran out.  The last of Sandor's bullets ricocheted off the metal nameplate on the front door of the cottage and slammed into her already injured arm, tearing a chunk of flesh out of it just below the elbow.

Screaming, Robin let go of the Uzi and clutched her arm.  She took a staggering step forward, but the pain was so intense that she couldn't keep her balance and she fell down on her knees.  Even though she had clamped down on the wound, blood was running almost freely, and she knew that she was in real trouble - even worse than she had been before.
Sandor grabbed the opportunity and jumped out from his hiding place. He slowly raised the AK at Robin, but then seemed to reconsider.

Cocking his head, he listened to the muted cries that came from inside the cottage, and soon, a devious little smile played on his lips.  "Who you got in there, bitch?"

"Yo' fuckin' mother, asshole!" Robin hissed.

"Really?  Let's go and see.  I'll take that, if ya don't mind," Sandor said and yanked the Uzi off Robin's shoulder.  When she couldn't stop a pained moan from escaping her lips, he laughed and gave her a hard shove, just for the hell of it.

"Come on, bitch. Let's have a little party," he continued, pulling Robin to her feet and pressing the barrel of the AK into her back.

---

From her position underneath the couch, Pamela could hear someone shuffling through the hall, but she didn't dare stick her head out before that someone had been identified.  When she heard Robin groan in a strained fashion, she edged towards the open floor and looked up.

"Robin…?   Robin…?" Pamela said in a trembling voice that betrayed her terror.

Moments later, Robin came through the door and into the living room, but Pamela's elation was short-lived when she realized that not only was the tough biker bleeding from a new gunshot wound, she had someone with her.

"It's Robin and a friend," Sandor said in a mock sing-song voice, quickly scanning the living room that looked like something out of a disaster movie. When he spotted Pamela, who was kneeling on the floor, his eyes lit up like someone who had just cracked the jackpot.

Seeing that, Pamela felt a wave of shivers run down her back and she instinctively got on her feet and wrapped her arms around her chest.  "R-Robin, a-are you all right?" she said in a tiny voice.

"No…"

"No, I don't think the bitch is all right, actually," Sandor said and shoved the barrel of the AK into Robin's ribs, making the tall biker groan in pain.
"Stop torturing her, you brute!" Pamela shouted, clenching her fists.

"Oh-ho, who the hell are you?  Fuckin' Batgirl or something?  Shut the fuck up. I'll let you know when you can talk."
Out of fear of saying something that would infuriate the mercenary, Pamela slammed her mouth shut and concentrated on looking Robin in the eye, hoping to give the injured woman some silent support.

"Now, this tall bitch here stole something that belongs to my boss, namely ten kilos of coke.  Anybody wanna tell me where you've stashed it?"

Robin winked at Pamela who nodded faintly. "Y-yes. It's out in the bathroom."

"Go get it, Batgirl.  Hey, it's almost like Christmas Eve. Not only can I reclaim the dope and get a big, fat bonus from Stepanek, I get two fantastic pussies to go with it."

Sandor's words sent a new wave of shivers down Pamela's back, and she suddenly understood that it was imperative that she came up with something that could get her and Robin out of the squeeze they were in.

Clenching her jaws tightly together to stop her teeth from clattering, she hurried into the bathroom and picked up the heavy package that had been sitting in the corner since Robin had first arrived.

She looked around the bathroom with wide, worried eyes, trying to find something - anything - she could use as a weapon.  'Deodorant and hair spray are highly flammable… but we don't have any fire to ignite it with… I guess I could just spray it into his eyes…'  she thought, opening the cabinet above the toilet and grabbing a can of Everfresh Spring Breeze deodorant.

Covering the aerosol can with the plastic-wrapped package, Pamela hurried back through the hall and into the living room.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?  Combing your hair?" Sandor hissed impatiently, thrusting the barrel of the gun even further into Robin's ribs.

"I c-couldn't f-find it…" Pamela said and held up the cocaine.  As she spoke, she sought out Robin's eyes and sent her a silent message to get ready.

Robin replied by nodding almost imperceptibly.

"Here!" Pamela suddenly shouted, throwing the package at Sandor's face.

Then everything happened at once: Sandor roared and raised his arm to deflect the package; Robin moved away from the AK47 and kicked it out of Sandor's hand; and Pamela raised the can of deodorant and squeezed the little button on top, sending a cloud of Spring Breeze aerosol directly into the mercenary's eyes.

Sandor screamed in pain and moved his hands up to clutch his face. A split second later - completely blinded - he lashed out viciously, backhanding Pamela across her cheekbone on a pure fluke.

The aerosol can flew out of her hands and she took a staggering step to the right. Her balance had been upset so much she couldn't avoid bumping into the coffee table, and as her leg made contact with the edge of the table, she fell forward, narrowly missing slamming her head into one of the hardwood corners.

Robin roared and jumped forward, kicking Sandor so hard in the crotch that he doubled over in pain and fell down onto his knees.  Fueled by pure anger, Robin sneered like a wounded tigress, grabbed a fistful of the mercenary's hair and yanked his head backwards, tearing out more than one tuft.

"Here's your big, fat bonus, motherfucker!" she roared, continually punching him in the face until his eyes rolled back in his head.  As the mercenary slumped to the floor, Robin spun around and ran over to the coffee table where Pamela was still lying.

"Pam!" she said, trying to push the heavy coffee table aside only using her good hand.  "Pam!  Are you all right?"

"Sandor…"

"He's no threat now.  Are you all right?!"

"My cheek hurts," Pamela slurred. She clambered to her hands and knees and let herself be lifted upright by Robin.

Leaning against the biker, Pamela ran her tongue across her teeth to feel if she had lost any, but they were all there. She had a horrible taste of blood in her mouth and her left cheek and gum were completely numb, but other than that, she was fine.  "God…" she croaked.

"That was the bravest fuckin' thing I've ever seen, Pam!  I mean, holy fuck, dude!" Robin said, caressing Pamela's shoulder.

"What…?"

"The deodorant, of course!  Jesus!"

"I had to do something… I j-just couldn't face wh-what was going to happen-"

'Sandor… Sandor, come in,' a male voice suddenly said from somewhere on the floor.

Robin turned around and began to look for the source of the voice. Quickly finding the walkie-talkie, she ripped it off Sandor's belt and keyed the mic.

"Sandor is in no fuckin' condition to come to the phone right now.  Please leave a message… or better still, just get the fuck out while you still can. Before we come for ya!" she growled into the walkie-talkie, earning herself a muted groan from Pamela.

-*-*-*-

Out at the Jeep, Miroslav Kovac - a twenty-nine year old veteran formerly of the Polish Armored Infantry - just stared dumbfoundedly at the walkie-talkie he held in his hand. Shrugging, he put it back in his pocket and began to weigh his options.

After a short delay, he grabbed the two remaining packs of cocaine and threw them into the nearest ditch.  When he came back to the Jeep, he opened the suitcase and stared at the seven hundred thousand Dollars with large, greedy stars in his eyes.

Chuckling, he closed the suitcase, sat down in the driver's seat and turned the ignition key.  After allowing the engine to settle down, he selected Reverse and drove away from Seagull Lane and onto the coastal road.  A scant minute later, he was long gone.

-*-*-*-

"Now will you let me call the police?" Pamela said in a slightly slurred voice on her way over to the ruined dinner table.  Every single step she took produced a crunching sound under her foot from all the things that had been destroyed in the raid.

"All right. Let's see if they'll believe ya. In the mean time, I need a break. Jesus, man, I'm fucked," Robin said and decided to sit down on the couch before she fell down.

Leaning over the side of the shot-up couch, she looked at the knot she had tied around Sandor's hands.  To her tired eyes, it looked okay, but she wasn't sure. When she tried to get up from the couch to give the rope a thorough check, a strange blackness entered the edges of her vision and she had to fall back down in the seat.

Touching her injured arm, she felt to her great horror that it had begun to go cold.  "Aw, Jeez, I'm so… so… so fucked," she said, wiping her sweaty face with her good hand.

On her way to her phone, Pamela stepped over her grandmother's collection of romance novels from the 1960s - once pristine and with unbroken spines, the books were now just a pile of shredded paper.

Reaching the dinner table, her eyes grew wide when she realized that her cell phone had taken a direct hit.  The only thing that was in one piece was the small plastic screen, everything else had been obliterated. She picked up the sorry remains and held it up so the biker could see it.  "Look, Robin, my phone has been… Robin?  ROBIN?!"
The biker sat slumped to the side with a frightened, dazed expression on her face. Her skin had turned waxen and she had moved her right hand up to clutch the wound on her shoulder.

Pamela didn't waste any time in going around the piles, she simply jumped over the debris and ran to Robin's side.  Kneeling down in front of the biker, Pamela tried to pull her upright, but she couldn't get enough leverage.

"Robin?  Can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah…"

"What's going on?  Where does it hurt?"

"Ev-everywhere… m-my arm hurts…"

"Your arm?  Did you get the feeling back?" Pamela said and gently touched Robin's injured arm.

"N-no… it just hurts all over…"

"You're probably suffering from blood loss… no, wait a minute… you're clammy, your skin is waxen, your left arm hurts…  oh my God, you're having a heart attack!  M-maybe a blood clot from the first wound, or… or…!"

"Whatever it is, it fuckin' hurts," Robin hissed through clenched teeth.

At that exact same moment, Sandor rose from the floor with an insane look in his eyes and blood gushing from his broken nose; holding the torn ends of a rope in his hands, he calmly leaned down and put it around Robin's neck, grinning like a maniac as he tightened it against her throat.

Pamela screamed in terror and began to pummel the mercenary with kicks and punches, but they were ineffective against his blind rage.

Looking around in desperation, Pamela eyed the assault rifle on the floor. At once, she picked it up and held it against the side of Sandor's head. Her hands were trembling so badly that the nylon strap shook and shivered like a tree in a storm, but she was determined to stop the mercenary from killing Robin.

"Let her go, now!" Pamela screamed, thumping the barrel of the AK against Sandor's temple.

"Fuck off, bitch!  Go spread your fuckin' legs, this'll only take a minute!" Sandor hissed, yanking the rope backwards which made Robin cry out in pain.

"No, let her go!"

Tightening his grip on the rope, Sandor turned his head towards Pamela and bared his teeth in a bloodied, demonic grin.  "Make me… come on, make me! You don't have the balls, little girl!"

Suddenly, Robin let out a strangled gurgle and her body became limp. Her good hand - that she had tried to use against the rope - slid down from her throat and landed motionless on her chest.

"One bitch down, one to go!" Sandor roared and let go of the rope.

Time seemed to come to a standstill for Pamela. She looked at the maniacal glare in the mercenary's eye; looked at her ruined home; looked at Robin's prone body - all these images collided in her mind, creating an intense flash of light.

'Don't you feel even the slightest bit remorseful for killing a man tonight?' Pamela heard her own voice say.

'What would you have done, Pam?'

'I d- don't know.'

'I hope you'll never be in that position.'

The words she'd had with Robin earlier in the evening swirled around her head, adding to her confusion and pain.  Finally coming to the end of her tether, Pamela pulled the AK's trigger.

Click.

The expression on Sandor's face changed from shock to anger within a split second. Roaring, he hit out at Pamela, but she was able to move back in time.

"You worthless little cunt!  You don't even know how to shoot a fuckin' gun, do ya?" he shouted so strongly that a shower of blood shot from his nose and flew towards Pamela.

Pamela's entire body twitched in anger and she raised the rifle again. Instead of wasting time trying to get it to shoot, she flipped the weapon around and came at the mercenary with the wooden butt forward, ramming it into his brow with tremendous force.

The impact forced Sandor backwards, howling in pain. He raised his hands to try to protect his face from the rifle, but Pamela's anger was so strong that he wasn't able to.

Again and again, Pamela smashed the butt of the rifle into Sandor's head and face, not even letting up when he fell backwards onto the floor behind the couch. All the frustration of the last few hours, the anger over her ruined home and the fears for Robin's life centered on a single task: to make sure that the mercenary would never again get in a position where he could harm her.

When it was clear that Sandor wasn't going to get up, Pamela stopped the frantic thrusts and allowed herself to breathe again.  At the same time, the first light of the day broke through the shattered windows, shining its golden rays upon the endless death and destruction of the quiet, cozy summer cottage.

"… and don't call me a cunt. I'm a woman," Pamela croaked, taking a shuffling step backwards.  She could hear an unusual sound coming from the outside - almost like a lawn mower, only stronger - but she didn't have enough energy left to care.

Throwing the assault rifle away, she shuffled over to Robin and knelt down in front of the biker.  Robin's face was completely still and waxen, and she had a dark stripe across her throat where the rope had been.

Feeling lost in a haze of tiredness, Pamela moved her hand up to caress Robin's face. As she moved her thumb across the biker's strong cheekbone and prominent jaw, she found herself wishing that she had the power to bring people back to life, simply to get another glimpse of the cerulean blue eyes.  Knowing it was impossible, she sighed deeply and turned around to sit on the floor. After a few heartbeats, she leaned forward and buried her head in her hands.

Behind her, those cerulean blue eyes suddenly made an appearance as Robin cracked open her eyelids. Even though they seemed to weigh a ton, she was eventually able to focus on the ceiling above the couch.  Looking down, she could see Pamela sitting very still next to her, and for the briefest of moments, she was worried that something had happened to the cheerful author.

"H-hey…?" Robin whispered, but her voice was drowned out by the lawn mower-like sound that suddenly engulfed the cottage.  When she realized Pamela hadn't heard her, she put her good hand on the author's shoulder.

Feeling a heavy hand on her shoulder, Pamela jumped a foot in the air and let out a brief, but resounding shriek.  Upon her landing, she spun around and grabbed hold of Robin's hand.  "Oh, God!  Are you really alive?  How do you feel?"

"Alive…?  I'm not sure… I hope ya got the number of the fuckin' freight train that creamed me…"  Robin croaked.

"How is your arm?  Does it still hurt?  Is it still numb?  It's getting warmer, I can feel it!"

"Whoa… too many questions, Pam.  It still hurts, but not as badly as before…"

"Oh, that's good new-"  Pamela started to say, but a strange sound behind her made her turn around and look at the glass door to the patio.

Without warning, the cottage was invaded by a team of rifle-wielding men that came in through both doors and several of the shattered windows. The men were all dressed in black commando-style outfits and black balaclavas, and they hurriedly ran around the living room, securing the premises.

At once, Pamela clenched her fists, ready to take them all down, but Robin put a calming hand on the author's arm.

Once the soldiers had surrounded Robin and Pamela, two men - clearly persons of authority - wearing identical gun-metal gray suits walked into the cottage from the patio door.

"Agent Kendall, congratulations on completing a successful mission," the first man said.  The man was in his early sixties, tall, broad-shouldered and square-jawed - in fact, his face looked like it belonged on Mount Rushmore - and his gruff exterior was completed by a pale gray crewcut.

"Thank you, Director Larsen. I don't know about the success, though," Robin croaked.

Pamela turned to face Robin and grabbed the agent's hand. "Wow, you really are a Federal agent," she said with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Uh-huh."

Chuckling, Pamela shook her head and turned back to the Director. "Sir, Rob… uh, Agent Kendall is in dire need of medical help.  She has been shot twice, and she has shown symptoms of a heart attack."

"We'll get on it right away.  Agent Callaghan?" the Director said, turning to the other man who had remained silent.

Agent Jed Callaghan took his eyes off the destruction and snapped to attention. "Yes, Sir.  We have a medical team on stand-by. I'll alert then," he said, raising a walkie-talkie.

"Agent Kendall, the Stingers have been arrested so you needn't fear anything from them… not for the moment, anyway.  We have recovered two of the three packages of cocaine, but not the last one. You wouldn't happen to know where that one is, would you?"  Larsen said.

"It's around here somewhere.  I threw it in the basta… uh, bad guy's face," Pamela said and got up.  She walked around the couch and soon found the plastic-wrapped item.  "It's over here, Sir."

"Excellent," Larsen said and walked around the couch.  At the same time, the medical team came in through the patio door and began to attend to Robin.

"Oh, Jesus," Director Larsen said in disgust when he saw Sandor's bloody remains on the floor. Taking a step back, he wiped his expensive leather shoes on the carpet to get blood off them.  "Is he alive, Sergeant?" he said to one of the soldiers.

"Just barely, Sir."

"Get 'im out of here.  And don't forget the evidence."

"Yes, Sir."

As the soldiers scooped Sandor up and put him on a spineboard, Larsen turned back to Pamela. "Agent Kendall is a very strong woman," he said, nodding to himself.

"Uh… yes, Sir, but actually… I did that," Pamela said with a blush.

"You?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Which branch are you from?  Army, Navy, Homeland Security…?"

"Who, me?"  Pamela said and looked over her shoulder to see if the Director was addressing someone standing behind her. When the only person there was a soldier facing away from her, it dawned on her that the square-jawed FBI-man was asking her.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"  Director Larsen said, chuckling over the way Pamela's eyes grew wide.

"I'm… I'm just a writer, Sir.  Cozies and bodice-rippers," Pamela said, shrugging.

"CIA Special Ops Force?"

"Uhhh… no, Sir, I'm just a writer.  I'd like to go back to Agent Kendall now, if you don't mind, Sir."

"Oh, no, go right ahead," Larsen said, staring at the petite woman in a rather astounded fashion.

Two medics were attending to Robin, giving her a few pills and a shot from a syringe. After poking, prodding and wrapping her in bandages for the better part of five minutes - much to the tough biker's very apparent dissatisfaction - the medics finally tied the knot on the sling that would hold her arm, and began to pack their medicine case.

"Agent Kendall, you need to come with us to the hospital. We can't confirm that you've had a heart attack, but we need to perform more checks to be sure. We've treated your gunshot wounds to the best of our abilities, but you need to have a neural scan to see if there's any lasting damage," the first medic said.

"Does that mean I have to get all this shit unwrapped again?  Fuck that, man!" Robin said and waved her hand dismissively.  "Just gimme a box o' headache pills an' a bottle of Bourbon an' I'm as good as new."

"We'll wait for you outside, Agent Kendall."

"Aw, fuck no, man!"  Robin whined, but the two medics simply walked away from her.  Groaning, she ran her good hand through her hair and focused on Pamela who had been watching the entire thing. "And what the hell are you smirkin' at, huh?"

"What was that pill they gave you?" Pamela said as she sat down next to Robin. Instinctively, she wrapped her arm around the taller woman's waist and leaned in to put her head on the muscular shoulder.

"Nitro, I think.  Hey, Pam…?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I got you into all this mayhem.  If I had known that it would come to this," - Robin swept her hand across the destruction - "I wouldn't have knocked on your door last night."

Pamela sighed and cast a depressed glance at the state of her home. "So much is gone… thank God my laptop wasn't damaged.  But how the hell am I going to explain it to my insurance company?"

"Oh, I think the Bureau will cough up some moolah to keep it outta the news."

"Mmmm," Pamela said, looking at the sorry state of her china cabinet where not a single plate had been left in one piece. "Anyway, I'm glad you knocked on my door."

"Really?  Why?  I mean…"

"Oh, I could happily have lived without all this, sure, but… well, we're still breathing.  If you hadn't found my cottage, I wouldn't have been involved, but you would almost certainly have been lying face-down in a ditch somewhere by now, you know?"  Pamela said and put a hand on Robin's leather-clad thigh.

"That's very true, Pam."

Pamela turned to look at the biker. Robin's hair was a mess, her face was still quite pale and she had black circles under her eyes, but to Pamela, she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet at that very moment. A spark ignited deep inside her, growing in strength until it had become an irresistible urge.
Closing her eyes, she leaned in towards Robin, hoping to be rewarded with a searing kiss from the biker's silky smooth lips - but instead of those lips, all Pamela felt were fingers covering her mouth.

Frustrated, she popped open an eye and stared at the biker with laser-like precision and intensity. When it dawned on her that they wouldn't be kissing any time soon, she sighed and pulled back.

"Pam…"  Robin said, removing the author's hand from her thigh and giving it a little squeeze.

"What?  Am I that ugly?" Pamela said, only half-joking.

"Aw, Jesus!  You're a babe, but you're a babe with a girlfriend… remember? You told me on this very couch that you ain't into free love and all that shit."

"Yeah. I guess.  Ah, it was just a spur of the moment thing, anyway," Pamela said and looked down at her sandaled feet.

Robin chuckled and looked at the many people crowding the summer cottage. Some of them were collecting evidence, but most were simply idling about.  "Yeah, but even apart from that, when it comes to rockin' and rollin' I prefer some privacy… too many people here, you know what'm sayin'?" she said and bumped shoulders with Pamela.

"Yeah, I-"

"Agent Kendall?"  Director Larsen said, having snuck up on the two women while they were talking.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Two things… one, I've just been told over the radio that we've recovered the counterfeit money. One of Stepanek's men turned up at a road block set up by the State Police. He tried to make a run for it, but got bogged down in the dunes."

"It wouldn't have done him a shitload of good anyhow. The only thing that money was good for was to wipe his ass on or blow his nose in," Robin said with a chuckle.

"Ahem. Yes.  Two… why the hell aren't you already in the ambulance?  Didn't I hear the medics tell you that they were ready for you?  Hmmm?"

"Oh, well, you see-"

"Now git!"
"Yes, Sir," Robin whined and tried to get up from the couch.  She deliberately made it appear like she was much frailer than she really was, but the charade backfired on her when Pamela grabbed her good arm and effortlessly dragged her to her feet.

"I need my jacket… now where did I leave my jacket?  You know, my leather jacket?" Robin said, stalling for all she was worth.

"Come on, you big sissy!  Let's get you to the ambulance.  Once you're on the stretcher, I'll bring you your jacket," Pamela said with a laugh as she dragged the reluctant Robin away from the living room and out on the patio.

Once they were outside, Robin stopped to look at the early morning sky. To the east, finger-like clouds stretched across the heavens, tinted orange, red and pink by the rays of the sun.

"Damn… for a moment there last night, I though I'd never see another sunrise," Robin said, sounding suspiciously like she was trying to stop herself from becoming too emotional.

"I'm glad we got to see one together. We human beings need a happy end now and then," Pamela said as they resumed walking towards the two medics who were standing at the ambulance, talking amongst themselves.

"Yeah… hey, wait a minute," Robin said and stopped again.

"Now what…?"

"There's something I want to give you."

"Oh, but-"

Without further ado, Robin leaned down and claimed Pamela's lips in a small, but very warm kiss.  The kiss went on for just the right amount of time, and once they separated, Robin pulled back with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Wow…" Pamela croaked, touching her lips that were still buzzing from Robin's touch.

"That was a 'thanks for saving my ass more than once'-kinda kiss, Pam.  That makes it all right… you shouldn't have any problems with your girlfriend on that account.  On the other hand, who the hell knows with women, right?"  Robin said and let out a loud laugh.

"Oh… well, your rear end was definitely worth saving," Pamela said, suddenly blushing all over again.

"Ooooh!  Flirtin'!"

"Uh, no, no, no…"

"Hell, yeah!"

"The Nitro must be getting to your head.  Come on, the ambulance is right over there," Pamela said and grabbed Robin's good arm.

---

A couple of minutes later, Pamela came back with Robin's leather jacket only to find the tough biker safely tucked in on a stretcher inside the ambulance.

"Holy cow, Robin, is that really necessary…?" Pamela said as she put the jacket into the back of the ambulance.

"They said it was," Robin growled, holding the blanket way up under her chin.

"Let's hope the stretcher has good springs."

"Uh, why?"

"You need to drive up Seagull Lane to get to the coastal road… and it's bumpy as all hell, remember?"

"Aw, fuck that!" Robin said and clamped her good hand down on her eyes.

"Well!  Uh… here's a piece of paper with my telephone number on it. I'd like us to… uh… to stay in touch. If that's okay with you?" Pamela said and put a folded piece of paper into one of the leather jacket's pockets.

"Fuck, yeah!  Hey, did you call your girlfriend yet?"

"No, my phone was shot to pieces, remember?"

"Ask any of the agents, they'll help ya.  All ya have to do is to wiggle your eyelashes and point those gorgeous green emeralds at 'em, and their knees will start knockin'.  That's what happened to me," Robin said with a wide grin.

"Sheesh, Robin, stop it… you're making me blush again."

One of the medics came down to the rear doors and began to close one of them. "Miss, we need to leave now," he said, activating the door's locking mechanism.

"Okay.  Goodbye, Robin, it's been an… uh, interesting night," Pamela said, squeezing Robin's hand on her way out of the ambulance.  "Talk to you soon, right?"

"Sure thing, babe.  An' keep writin' your body rippers… right?" Robin said and gave Pamela a wink and a thumbs-up.

"Bodice-rippers!  For cryin' out loud, Robin!  Bodice-rippers!"

Just as the medic closed and locked the second door, Robin flashed Pamela an impossibly wide grin with her impressive set of pearly whites.

There were no windows in the back of the ambulance, but Pamela still waved her hand at it as it drove off her lot and onto the bumpy dirt road.

Sniffing, she wiped a small tear off her cheek and turned around to get back to the carnage and to call her girlfriend - she had a lot of explaining to do.

THE END.

Rani
By Kim Phoenix

 A light sigh escaped soft lips as brown weary eyes slowly ascended to the solid oak door. Her left hand was gently resting on the telephone after finishing a tiresome phone call with one of her suppliers to unravel a tedious complication. Her dark brown hair was a mess after running her fingers through the curly locks to try and relieve the headache that had accumulated throughout the day. She was just about to put the final notes onto the report in front of her when she had heard that familiar sound.

Knock-it-y-knock-knock-knock!

There was only one person in her world, who would interrupt her, with a knock just like that one. She wasn’t surprised to see hazel eyes sparkling in mischief as she plastered on a smile to greet her oldest friend, Miki. She was glad that Miki had decided to wear a decent black suit instead of her outrageous flamingo coloured blouse and rainbow coloured golf pants. She had been completely embarrassed to accompany Miki on that one day to brunch at an exclusive restaurant for the rich and famous. 

“Darling, get your stuff, it’s time to go.” called Miki eagerly like a child about to go to a toy store. Her short blonde hair, much to her late parents dislike, was styled to be spiky in a soft way. It enhanced her masculine image as a powerful banker even though she seldom went into her office. Her large hand was curved around the door as she peeked in on her only loyal best friend. “You remember, right?”

Brown eyes narrowed as she tried to remember what her friend was talking about. Her mind flittered meticulously through her mental calendar as she tried to figure out what she had obviously forgotten. Her eyes widened as Miki flashed a clue in front of her eyes from the door. She stared at the perfect white plain mask that obviously Miki was going to wear with her black attire. 

“Good thing I stopped by with that look on your face.” commented Miki laughingly. She twirled the mask in her hand as she walked into the office to showcase her attire for the evening. The black and red cape swirled behind her as she dramatically bowed from the waist and smiled smugly. “So what do you think?”

A muffled laugh escaped her lips as she quickly placed her hand over her mouth at Miki’s antics. Her bad mood from the phone call was slightly lifted as she watched her friend twirl around with the cape flapping about. It was quite refreshing to have Miki in her office since her presence always made everything surreal. It was at these moments that she cherished her friendship with Miki.

“So what will you be wearing tonight?” asked Miki as she did a once over with her hazel eyes.  She placed her strong hands onto the wooden desk and leant over a little to get a better look. She wasn’t surprised to see a plain black suit jacket, a white blouse and a black tight knee length skirt. Her eyes flickered up to meet panicked brown eyes. She smiled warmly as she calmly voiced, “Don’t worry; I have your costume in the car.”

A little while later she was properly dressed in a lucrative and suggestive tight black dress that hugged her body like a second skin. It was strapless and flowed down to mid-thigh. She had a thin black see through shawl that kept the chill of the night slightly away. Coupled with the slightest touch of makeup, she didn’t look like a person who just got off from work. She looked ready for the most sophisticated party she could only get invited to attend by being a plus one.

She stood idly by next to the expensive black Porsche 911 that Miki owned. She had seldom ridden in this car as it drew too much attention to her and she knew her normal work clothes would have made her look mediocre next to Miki. It was also because Miki also owned a few other sports cars as well and hadn’t driven this one in a while. 

Brown eyes flicked over the top of the car as she watched Miki hand over her keys to the eager male porter who was utterly failing at hiding his excitement. She could see her friend’s lips moving rapidly as she handed the porter a large tip to make sure that her car was taken care of. It was a small price to pay to make sure that the porter didn’t abuse the trust that Miki was giving him. It also helped that the porter’s manager was nearby as well and had given the porter a few stares of warning. 

She glided up the carpeted stairs to the open front door with Miki walking casually by her side. It was obvious to all watching them they there was no relationship besides friendship between them. Miki had calmly glanced at any onlookers and merely brushed them from her mind. It was clear that Miki was someone of great importance even if she was a female in a tuxedo. Everyone seemed to know who she was and that just made everyone stare that much more at the plus one that she had brought along. 

“This will never get any easier,” she sighed to Miki. Her small purse and shawl were swiftly removed at the door where a kind male servant carefully put it away. She had been surprised that the host had thought of this beforehand since she hated to carry around her belongings while trying to make sure no one would steal it from her or she wouldn’t lose it. She wondered who and where the host was since Miki had only given her the type, time and date of the party. “So what do you have in mind? Are you going to mingle or grab a small bite?” she asked whisperingly to Miki’s alert ears.

Miki smiled widely as she looked around at the many party goers who were dressed as different characters from movies to plays. She was slightly impressed by the display of colour, but knew among these people it was only for this occasion. Her hazel eyes scoured the large foyer and wondered where the host was. It was quite unusual for the host to not be at the door welcoming them all in. 

Brown eyes were glued to Miki as she waited for her to finish her searching. It was clear that the host had yet to arrive into the foyer to greet all of the gathered guests so far. She wondered if anyone had been able to enter yet and her answer appeared before her at the end of the foyer. She could see that there were servants standing patiently in front of the large white doors and had yet to permit anyone from entering. Their smiles were bright and welcoming even though some of the guests were getting tired from waiting in the foyer. 

Her slender hand slowly patted the stomach of her dress as she smoothed out the wrinkles that had formed from her moving about. Her hair had been tied up carefully into a bun by her assistant who had done an excellent job at taming her brown curly hair. A few tendrils of her fringe were loose to soften her appearance as Miki had directed her to do so. It was a rare thing for Miki to give advice about how she should look. She wondered if there was more to this party than Miki was telling her. She had never attended a masquerade before and wished she knew what was to be expected. 

A black and white feathered mask adorned her face that only covered the area around her eyes. She wouldn’t have been able to recognize Miki if it hadn’t been for her knowing what she was going to wear. A pure white mask covered her entire face with its plainness. It was a little ironic as well considering Miki was not plain or pure. 

“The hostess has yet to arrive. However a bite to eat sounds like a good plan before I start mingling with the other guests.” replied Miki as she wore her mask on top of her head since the party had yet to start. Her hazel eyes continued to zoom about as if she were looking for something she had lost without appearing to be searching for it. “I wonder why it is suddenly delayed. This has never happened before. We usually enter the foyer, get greeted and in we go.”

“How many of these functions have you attended?” she asked cautiously as she was slightly frightened at what the answer would be. She hoped it had been a fair few times to relieve some of the anxiety that was creeping up her nerves since this was the first time she had been to one of these. The last time was a normal formal dinner at a restaurant that was booked out for the entire evening because of the number of people who had attended. “Please say more than two.” She whispered under her breath as she waited for an answer. 

“I’ve been to every single one that has been hosted and I’ve known about it. So I can’t really count on my digits how many parties there were. Not that I remember how many there were anyways. So it is safe to say that I know how this is supposed to work even though the type of party is different each time.” explained Miki quietly as her hazel eyes continued to look about. 

“They are different each time?” she puzzled as she raised her eyebrow at Miki with little effect. She could see the slight smile creeping onto Miki’s face at her attempt of expressing her confusion considering the mask hid most of it. She wasn’t use to wearing things that covered her face since she mostly expressed herself through facial expression or hand gestures. “What do you mean?”

Miki smiled slyly as she glanced over towards her friend. “Let’s just say that the last party was called ‘Cocktail Hour’ and there was plenty of alcohol going around to make everyone relax. It was the most unusual party that I had been to with interesting results.” she replied without wiping the smirk off her face which indicated something did happen and seemed to be in her favour. Slowly she pulled her plain mask on as her hazel eyes lighted up towards the barred doors. “And here it will begin again.” she whispered with a muffled voice due to her mask.

Brown eyes were confused as to Miki’s change in demeanour.  She was sure her friend had been sly and playful, but now there was an aura of business about her. She wondered what had consumed her friend’s thoughts. However, her concentration was captured by the opening of double doors and the quietening of the crowd that had gathered in the foyer. She would have loved to have been taller. She would have been able to see what was going on and it seemed like something significant since it captured everyone’s attention. 

A voice, powerful and clear, commanding and calm, filled the entire foyer as if it were the purest notes off a harp. The feminine musical notes glided to all ears and caused quiet excitement to brew among its listeners. The lowest tones brought smiles to many who had gathered even though most were masked. 

Brown eyes glanced around the room to see everyone entranced. Even she was mesmerised by the voice that held so much freedom and yet a control that caused a small chill to run up her spine. She found the feminine voice to be tickling all of her senses and she wondered who this person could be. She wanted to match a face to that voice, but she was thwarted several times. She tried to stand on tippy toes and tried to look between people. However, every effort and solution that she found was marred by more problems. After a little while, she gave up. The foyer was too crowded and only the tall would be able to see the owner of the voice, which included Miki. 

Her shoulders were slightly slumped in defeat as all she could enjoy of the speaker was her voice. She wondered what this person would look like. From the voice, she imagined an exquisitely striking tall female who was broad shouldered and had a masculine aura. She pictured this woman to have bright blue eyes and dark features. However, she still couldn’t see if the image in her head was true or not. 

“Welcome all to my humble home, I see many have returned to enjoy the festivities planned for this night. I also see many new faces as well and hope this night will enlighten all to the pleasures I am offering. Now let’s get this party started for it will be a long joyous night.” greeted the voice that addressed all who were waiting in the foyer. 

Her brown eyes began to perk up as she saw that the crowd was moving to the large double doors. She was herded along, since there were many behind her who were eager to enter and finally begin their evening of fun. She was excited and her curiosity would be fulfilled once she passed by the hostess. She would see what this person looked like.

The double doors loomed closer as the crowd of guests excitedly moved forward. Smiles and small chatter filled the air as the people at the front entered and disappeared beyond. The same alluring voice welcomed her guests with enthusiasm as they passed her by. She could hear her closer and closer. However, she missed her chance as Miki hurriedly guided her into the next room without even a glance of the hostess. She had been forced to concentrate on her balance as Miki ushered her over to the side of the room where some of the crowd had gathered.

“Where’s the fire? What’s the rush?” she asked perplexed at Miki’s seemingly anxious body gestures. Brown concerned eyes watched carefully as Miki looked around and around before sighing audibly with slumped shoulders. “Is there something that I should know about?”

Miki began to relax and turned to face her friend before slowly sliding up her mask so that she could speak clearly. However, she stopped in her tracks when she felt that familiar presence as if it were a physical beacon. She turned to the table instead and collected a plate. Her fingers shakily picking up food and her mind too preoccupied to notice how concerned her friend was getting over her behaviour. 

“Tch, tch, tch…” The feminine voice from earlier in the foyer lingered in the air. The warning tones were maginfied by her stunning presence as she glided gracefully toward Miki. “You know the rules of the masquerade. You’re not allowed to remove your mask once you’ve passed those doors.” she said drawlingly as she was in reach to glide her hand down Miki’s back.

Brown eyes watched in wonder as this beautiful creature with blonde hair and bright green eyes was seductively making Miki nervous. She had never seen her friend like this nor had she seen anyone able to command such an overwhelming presence that made a few guests shy away as if they wanted to be invisible. She was riveted to the spot as she watched Miki shakily picking up titbits onto her half filled plate. 

She would have normally watched her friend get out of any situation. However, at this moment, she felt her body step forward at its own voilition. Her body marched forward as she reached out her hand and placed it onto the beautiful blonde’s shoulder. She heard the gasp that echoed around the now silent room. She pulled on the shoulder to spin the woman around and faced her. They were the same height so she couldn’t really intimidate the blonde or compete with her frightening aura, but she was determined. 

“Leave her alone!” she whispered in warning as if her words were as slick as a snake and could strike out at any moment. Her grip was gentle and her aura was dismissable, but the determination she held within her flew to the surface as she faced this person. She didn’t care that this woman might have been the hostess of the masquerade. She just knew that her behaviour toward her friend was not excusable. “A light warning would have been sufficient.”

“And whom may you be?” she asked lightly as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She had removed her hand away from Miki and was staring at this person who had dared to touch her. She was well aware that all of the guests were glued to the scene they were causing. She was Angelique d’Angouleme, Kiku of the flesh, the hostess of the masquerade and no one dared to challenge her in any way until now. 

“My name is Rani and you are?” asked Rani pompously as if nothing could touch her. She felt so free and powerful as she stared into those green eyes. She heard the second round of gasps and knew it was probably because of the tone of her voice toward the hostess. However, she didn’t care. She was being fueled by the rush of adrenaline that had flooded her body at the challenge of overcoming her inert self. 

Anglique’s green eyes widened as she stared at Rani and was frozen where she was. Could it be? Is it possible? Her thoughts were running rampant as she stared into brown eyes. I would have known, wouldn’t I? She lost her overwhelming aura in a blink of an eye as she slowly raised her hand and caressed Rani’s cheek. 

Rani was confused. She could see those green eyes gentling as soon as she had mentioned her name. She saw how several guests were whispering excitedly as if whatever wisdom she had somehow bestowed to them from the mention of her name was going to be gossip for many weeks to come. She stood there and watched as those gentle fingers trailed from her cheek to her neck. She wondered what had overcome the hostess.

Suddenly, she felt her head being tipped to the side voilently as lips and teeth sunk into her neck. She was shocked as pain lanced through her body. She didn’t know what to think. She stood there as the blonde was biting her neck. Her eyes were blurring as she stared over at Miki who was being held back by several people. She felt her arms become weights and then her eyelids were closing. She was falling.

Angelique held onto Rani as she lifted her face away from Rani’s neck. Blood marred her lips and her green eyes were aglow as she opened them and viewed the quiet room. She felt invigorated by the new blood that now coursed through her veins. She was amazed by the sweetness and memories that were stored within Rani. However, it was all meaningless. She didn’t want the woman in front of her that she held gently in her arms. She wanted the woman who Rani had once been. She hoped she was right.

Miki strained to get herself free. Even though she was one of them, she couldn’t overpower the two that were holding her. Both men were easily restraining her from coming to the aid of her friend. She hadn’t wanted this. She just wanted to show Rani a good time and knew that all guests would be respected whether they were human or not. She felt sickened as she stared at her pale friend who was held limply in Angelique’s arms.

Bloody tears streamed down the sides of her face as she looked at her friend who was on the brink of death. She could hear acutely the skipping beats of Rani’s heart. She continued to try and get free. Desperation fuelled her limbs to break out of the two other vampire’s hold on her. She could still save Rani’s life if she were quick enough to get her a blood tranfusion. It was all that was needed to save her life. 
“LET ME GO!!!” snarled Miki as she yanked one arm free. The two vampires were surprised by her surge in strength and couldn’t contain her any longer. She yanked her other arm free as her hands turned into sharp claws ready to strike out at Angelique. She leaped toward her with her hands poised to attack and free Rani. She would get the both of them out of there and damn the consequences of her actions. They had crossed a line and she would not look back.

Suddenly, immeasurable pain lanced through her chest as someone’s foot collided heavily onto Miki. She fell backwards with a crash as she landed on the table full of food. Her attacker had not relented and was about to crush her skull in, but a warning tone eminated throughout the room.

“STOP!!!” yelled Angelique as she stared at Rasheed who was one of her most loyal body guards. Her voice was powerful and held everyone in a tight grip. No one could move and that was her whole intention. She didn’t want anything to go out of hand when this was meant to be a party. She could already see several humans who were looking frightenedly at their respective human or non-human partners. It was clear that this scene was not a normal day occurance. “Take her to a holding cell and clean up this mess.” she said whisperingly as she gestured to Miki and the other people around her. She scanned the crowd of guests and was already pleased that some of her people were already spreading out. “Continue with the party.”

“What about her?” Rasheed asked enquiringly as his bright brown eyes lingered hungrily on Rani’s frail body. His sullen cheeks and pale complexion made him look very eerie. Even with his jet black hair and dry cleaned tuxedo added to his mysterious persona. He unconsciously licked his lips as his eyes stopped at Rani’s neck. “What do you want us to do with her?”

“I will see to her.” Antoinette bellowed desperately from across the room as she rushed over from one of the hastily opened doors. Her reddish brown hair flowed graciously to the middle of her back in gentle waves. She reached out her hand gently to caress Rani and retrieved her from Angelique. “You bit her.” she commented lightly as she carefully placed her hand over the drizzling wound. “She is very weak.” she sighed audibly in relief as she turned and carried Rani from the room and its spectators. 

Angelique stood there as she stared at Rani’s pale face. It just couldn’t be, but her blood. They tasted the same. It was the same. She has returned. Tears of happiness and sadness filled her eyes. They were not bloody like Miki’s tears and she knew her human side had momentarily returned just for this moment. It was how she always was around her, Rani of the Far North.

*******

Year 340 B.C.

Angelique smiled bashfully at the bright sunset across the far waters. She could feel the tinge of a sweet blush working its way up her face. Her heart was fluttering uncontrollable as she tried to sit still in anticipation. Butterflies fluttered through her stomach as she glanced to the side where the person she had spent most of her days with for the past moon sat there. She was utterly in love and there was not a soul that could forbid her in this day and age from doing so. 

Her heart skipped a beat as those eyes glanced at her with a sexual smile that melted her soul. She would become a puddle any moment now and she wouldn’t be ashamed about any of it. Even if this act alone was frowned upon, she would enjoy it to her heart’s content. She felt those lips move in swiftly and all she could do was stay as still as possible as she felt the strange sensation upon her lips for the first time. 

It was very brief, but the effects were catastrophic. She felt all warm and giddy as she sat there. People were trying their hardest to look elsewhere or mind their own business. There were also some that grunted in disgust or frowned at them. However, she didn’t care. Her heart had been stolen from the first time their eyes clashed. She had been spellbound and became alienated from her friends. 

All of this is because of her… Rani…

*******

It was approaching midnight and all of the guests had been forced to forget the earlier events of the evening so they could enjoy the masquerade. Her heart was still strained as her thoughts kept drifting back to that girl. She could barely keep her mind on one conversation and had to excuse herself more than once. She knew that Antoinette would surely keep her safe, but she was still worried. Did I take too much blood? I was so lost in the sensation that I couldn’t hold myself back. Hopefully, I haven’t done something that I will regret. I hope it is truly her.

“Angelique, did you float off to your little world again?” asked Liana for the second time that night. She was worried for her friend and confidante who had been acting strange ever since that girl confronted Angelique. She wondered what troubled the ancient one’s thoughts to allow her to be distracted this much. They had been friends for many centuries and this was so out of character for her. She knew that Angelique could follow several conversations at the one time and so she was really worried. “Maybe you should retire early and let Rasheed handle the rest of the evening. I’m sure it’s better than letting Melinda take the reins after the last incident.” she said whisperingly so that those acute ears of the others could not even hear her. She didn’t want Melinda repeating her last incident which involved a massacre of all of the humans. 

Angelique shook her head and smiled cheekily. She hadn’t really meant to let her thoughts wander off, but it was clear that she was troubled. If her close friend could see that she was acting strange, then everyone else would have already picked up on it as well. “I will retire then. Please see to it that nothing happens.” she warned gently as she nodded to her friend and walked out without a backwards glance. 

Her thoughts once again drifted to the girl being taken care of by Antoinette. She could probably go and see them, but she wondered what sort of reception she would get. She knew Antoinette was angry with her. She understood the quiet politeness that Antoinette showed to the guests and the others. It was a cover to hide her outrage because she wasn’t patient enough. She could have easily used any other method to ascertain whether Rani of the Far North had returned. However, she now regretted her actions even if they were involuntary. She had let her instincts take control and she wondered what sort of damage she had done. It could possibly ruin what they had before.

Unknowingly, she stopped in front of the cell that held Miki. She could see the upset and anger that was directed at her. She could smell this one distinctly being one of Liana’s creations. It would be a shame if she had to dispose of someone who had been very loyal to them even for one so young. She could understand how Miki was feeling right at this moment. 

“What are you going to do with her?” asked Miki as she huddled angrily in the corner of the cell. She didn’t dare to touch the bars which were drenched in Hell’s liquid of life. It was a non-lethal substance that would cause unimaginable burning sensations to boil their blood and would last for several weeks for a newly turned. 

Angelique lifted her hand and delicately held onto the bars of Miki’s cage. Burning flesh could be smelt, but no pain marred her features. She was totally nonchalant to the damage she was causing to herself. However, she pulled the cell door open and stood there with her hand still sizzling. “Tell me child, why did you try to attack me to protect a human?” she asked expressionlessly.

“She is my friend.” replied Miki in a clipped tone. She could easily attack her, yet it would do nothing since Angelique was an ancient. She was the only one left after the last war of their kind. She had heard the stories since she was not even born when the events occurred. “Would you not want to protect your friends?” she asked as she tried to turn the question back on Angelique.

“You know nothing about protecting friends. If you really wanted to protect her, you should not have brought her here. I know you were going to turn her this night. Liana has always consulted me when we bring a new one among us. It has always been the way.” lectured Angelique angrily as she slowly stepped into the cell and amplified her powerful presence by getting closer. She knew Miki could feel the pressure of being in the presence of an ancient. All of their kind were very sensitive to an ancient and could tell right away that she was a dangerous being. Most of the young ones always steered clear of her in case they were to face her wrath. “You have been graced with our gift and yet you still want to try and defy me for your friend’s sake. You are a sympathetic one to constantly watch over her.”

“Wouldn’t you be too? You saw her didn’t you?” asked Miki seething as she tried to reign her anger in and watch her every move. If she let her instincts take over, she would die. There was no question about it since she could feel the power that Angelique wielded without a care in the world. She wondered if there was anyone that could rival her. She had learnt in her short time of being turned that even Liana wasn’t as strong as Angelique. She watched that lean body move toward her, but knew she shouldn’t flinch away. If Angelique was there to deliver her death, then she could only accept it. 

Angelique stood directly over Miki with a stern look in her eyes. She could see that Miki was preparing for the worst. It was what most of the youngsters did when they were in her presence. She had revelled in the power and knowledge that she had compared to the others. However, her being the only ancient left meant that she was very lonely. She had not talked to anyone about the many things that she used to talk about. It was just too old for the others to understand and Liana had showed many puzzled expressions whenever she tried to broach such a topic. So she had stopped and now she kept everyone at a distance. It was not a voluntary choice to begin with, but it was the way things were now. 

Her green eyes slowly lost their sternness and she sighed audibly. A small laugh slipped from her lips at Miki’s humorously confused look. However, she didn’t waste any more time than she already had. “If you show true loyalty to me, you will come with me.” she whispered enticingly without the notion that she had an ulterior motive. She didn’t wait and quickly turned on her heel to the door that was left wide open. She usually had guards, but they had already been dismissed. She didn’t need them within her own home. However, Rasheed had insisted quite passionately. 
She cleared the doors without a backward glance. There was no need for her to look back and check since she could hear Miki. Every breath and the slight scrape of rubber against the tiled floor could be heard. She could pinpoint every single movement with the feel of the slight air currents. She was the most sensitive of their kind that existed. She had honed her many skills so that she could remain alive and she had been for a long while. 

She walked along the long corridor and up a few sets of stairs. There were twists and turns that she took without thinking about it. It was so ingrained into her mind since the first time that she had been brought here. The one person that tied them all together and was still doing so without knowing it was currently with Antoinette. This was where she was headed. Also she wanted to see for herself that she hadn’t inflicted any lasting damage.

“Where are we going?” asked Miki hesitantly after a while. She had a very good memory because of the special blood that was gifted to her from Liana. Her speed and strength had increased as well. She had been amazed by the changes and there had been many myths that were squashed from her knowledge about the mythical creatures that their kind were. “Why did you ask me to follow you?”

Angelique ignored the questions. They were right outside the doors to Antoinette’s chambers. It was quite clear that Miki couldn’t hear through these specific doors, but they had been made this way. It was the only way for their kind to have privacy from one another. There were just too many young ones who that they could eavesdrop and have some leverage over the older and more powerful of their kind. She had seen many colonies of their kind dwindle because the newly turned would try to overthrow their masters. It wasn’t that simple. Only she knew the key to becoming the master of the one that created them. It was the sole reason why she was alive and still able to allow so many be turned.

She raised her hand and gently placed her palm on the door. A slight push made the door creak open and she didn’t need to explain anything. Her heart which had been dormant for a long time thudded a few beats as she looked into the room. Her green sparkling eyes were widened in alarm and she could do nothing. She could feel Miki by her side who was as stunned as she was. 

Green eyes were staring at blue eyes that were sparkling as if they were the bright morning sky. Dark long hair was flowing freely down to her waist as she stood there with her grip around Antoinette’s body. Her mouth was pressed firmly to her pale neck and it was clear that she was drinking her fill. Antoinette was slowly mouthing pleas of help and this made Angelique finally act.

Angelique rushed into the room and grabbed Rani by her face which forced her to let Antoinette go. She quickly grabbed Antoinette by her arm and flung her into Miki’s arms. Her verdant eyes were pinned to blue and she could see the mythical creature that lurked beneath the surface. This person who she was holding by the face was no longer Rani the human. This was the beast that was inside all of their kind and made them who they were. 

She felt claws scrape against her forearm, but she ignored the blood and pain. She had to think of something to try and get Rani to gain control. There had to be some way in which she could force Rani to make that decision. It was quite clear to her that Rani was still inside somewhere and just needed some coaxing to come out. She didn’t care which Rani it was. All that mattered was that the beast needed to be tamed or more lives would be at risk. 

“Stop this Rani. I know you can still hear me.” she growled out between clenched teeth. She could feel the strain of holding Rani in the air and ignoring the thrashing that Rani was trying to inflict on her. She was determined to make sure that she could fix this. She could smell the changes and knew it had been her bite that had triggered all of this. She had woken up the beast that had lain dormant within the human. “I want you to fight this. I know you are strong enough.”

Suddenly, Liana appeared with Rasheed right behind her. They burst into the room and only had a few seconds to take everything in. However, their untimely appearance had distracted Angelique for just that second. The two had to be quick to catch Angelique who had been kicked toward them. 

Green eyes looked around at the now empty space where Rani had been. She was gone and it was not the typical escape out the window routine. This was an instantaneous disappearance as if Rani’s body evaporated into this air. It was alarming and at the same time amazing. She had never seen any of their kind be able to do something like that and she had seen a few strange abilities spring up before. 

“She’s gone!” commented Liana in surprise.

Angelique quickly got up and rushed over to Antoinette. She looked very pale and had lost a lot of blood. She could see that Rani had been taking her time to have her fill, but they had been in time to stop Rani from taking too much. She quickly licked the wounds and watched carefully as it healed over. She hastily bit into her wrist and shoved the bleeding wound into Antoinette’s mouth before they could all protest. Her earlier wounds had already healed over and she hadn’t been hurt badly either. 
As soon as she felt Antoinette try to push her arm away, she knew that enough blood had been given. It was a feeble push, but it was enough to know that she would make it through this ordeal. She would have sighed in relief and rejoiced that Antoinette was alright, however, Rani was on her mind. She needed to figure out where Rani, the Madame of the Storm Riders, had disappeared to.

“Where do you think she went? I can’t find any trace of her.” explained Rasheed frustratingly as he snooped around the entire chambers. He had rushed from one room and into another with his nose pointed in every direction. It was clear that his sense of smell was his main skill. “It is like she disappeared, but that is not possible. One of ours can be faster than the eye can follow and yet we can’t vanish like she did. This is impossible.”

“We can’t match her power or skills. We will have to find another way.” commented Liana as she helped Antoinette to her bed. The gentle caresses and lingering touches were being observed by the others. However, it was true that their relationship to each other was more than just being kindred. She looked deeply into troubled deep brown eyes and could see the conflict in them. Antoinette was mentally beating herself up. A lingering hand caressed her cheek and soft words of comfort left her lips. “It is alright. It’s not your fault. We will get her back.”

“What will we do? The party is still underway under Melinda’s supervision.” commented Rasheed as he looked toward Angelique. He was startled to see the alarm light up in her eyes once more. He felt it in his gut that he had once again made a lapse in judgement. “She was the only one around. There was no one else nearby.”

Angelique hastily turned on her heel and fled from the room. She needed to get back to the party as soon as possible. There was no telling what Melinda would do to the party and the irreversible consequences to her actions that could occur. Her feet were light and fast. She felt that Miki was following her closely and she was letting her keep up. She could have rushed on ahead, but there was a chance that she might need help. There were a few newborn Melinda fanatics within their kind that Miki could handle. 

Drip, drip, drip... blood dripping to the ground was the only sound within the vast expanse.

The room was drenched in fear. Various humans were huddled in a corner with a few of their kind standing up to defend against those that wanted to harm them. Fangs were bared at each other as if they were all just mindless beasts. The room was in complete silence as everyone was frozen in place. No one could move as they were all numb at watching what was happening in the centre of the room. Underneath the grand candelabra were two women. One of them was standing there, although it was clear she was actually being held up by the other woman. The other woman, everyone recognised as the person who had stood up to Angelique.

Green eyes stared around the room in alarm. Her sights first landed on the humans who were for the most part alright although a little frightened. She could see that her most trusted personnel were standing guard while those that were loyal to Melinda were poised to take a human guest as dinner. Her heart hammered within her chest as she stared at the centre of the room. She wouldn't have believed what she was seeing had she not have mentally slapped herself.

She walked slowly into the room and made sure that Miki stayed where she was. She knew Miki was still too young to handle the others that were in the room. Her presence was felt, but all were totally transfixed upon the two women. She glided in as non-threateningly as she could. She didn't want the blue eyed woman to disappear again. There was still time to make her realize who and what she was. She could see those hollow eyes that were unaware of what its body was doing. She could see the animal instinct within had taken control and someone had to cage that internal beast. It was her chance to redeem herself after losing her own self-control earlier.

"Rani, please put her down." she gently whispered in such a caressing voice that everyone felt deeply empathetic to Angelique. They could all hear the sadness and the plea within her voice. It was what she wanted them to hear. This person in front of her was more important than anything within her world. She would give up everything that she had gained to get back the person she knew ages ago when she was first reborn with the gift bestowed upon her by the person she loved. "Please let her go."

Her emerald eyes saw the slight confusion within the depths of blue and knew she was slowly coming to herself. She kept walking forward at a gentle pace as not to scare Rani away. She needed to be careful and she knew Melinda's life hanged in the balance. Even if she wanted to kill Melinda herself, she knew Rani would not be able to handle the kill yet. Rani was still confused and there was so much that she hadn't remembered. It was going to take some time for her to reclaim all that she knew, but at this very moment, this act would not do her any good.

She smiled gently as Rani gradually removed Melinda away from her lips. Green eyes could see the blood that stained her chin and she would have licked her lips had it not been for her tight control on her instincts. Anything that seemed unnatural would break the spell that she was slowly weaving to allow Rani to calm down. She was only halfway to Rani and had only managed to get Rani to retrieve her fangs from Melinda's bleeding neck. She made sure that she didn't quicken her pace as it would cause Rani some alarm and anything could ensue. It could also cause Rani to disappear again.

"Rani," called Angelique as she was within two steps of Rani. Her green eyes were shining brilliantly as she tried to keep up her effort and not lose her. She reached out with her arms and waited patiently as Rani dropped Melinda to the ground like a rag doll. She smiled even more as Rani stepped forward and her arms began to encircle her. She closed her arms around that familiar body and could feel the tears once more pooling around the rims of her eyes. It was pure bliss at being able to hold the one person who had changed her world and loved her more than life.

Suddenly, Angelique let out a slight gasp. She felt the sharp pain of fangs entering her neck and knew what Rani had done. Her tears, clear salty droplets, slid slowly down her pale cheeks. She held on still knowing that Rani was feeding upon her blood. She could feel the shock that emanated around the room. No one had ever been allowed to taste her blood or even touch her. They only saw that this woman who had been a human guest was allowed such special treatment. No one knew why or what was going through Angelique's mind.

Angelique gently stroked Rani's back. She remembered doing this often whenever Rani had needed to feed and she had been the only one around. It was true that their kind relied on blood to survive, but Rani was special. She knew what sort of scene she was creating, but didn't care about the consequences. She could easily repair all the damages since she was an ancient. It was also equally true that an ancient's blood was toxic to a newborn. So the fact that Rani was feeding upon her was puzzling for all present who had felt the deep sadness and longing within her voice.

Her strokes were getting weaker as she tried to stay conscious. Rani had taken a lot of blood and it seemed as though she hadn't been satiated just yet. Her arms were feeling weaker and slowly became numb. She couldn't stand anymore and knew Rani was fully supporting her. She wondered how much more Rani was going to take. She wished Rani would remember her old self. She wished with all of her might that Rani would not regret this night as her vision became blurry. Her tears had long halted as she didn't have any more fluid within her to produce them. Her once vibrant green eyes were clouded over and glazed. If this is the end of me, I'm glad that I was able to see her one more time.

Suddenly, Rani blinked rapidly as if to clear her vision. She could feel the warm sweet taste within her mouth and knew she was feeding. Her arms were strong as she gently held onto the blonde beauty within her arms. She felt her mind trying to establish some sort of sense about where she was and what she was doing. She felt renewed as if she had been reborn, but that was confusing. She had always been alive, hadn't she?

Slowly she withdrew her fangs from her victim. She could see a room filled with various people. Some of them felt familiar like an old fragrance that only one of her kind would sense and categorise that individual as one of them. There were also frightened humans and this was a little puzzling as some of her kind were poised to defend them. She lifted her victim away from her face to take in the entirety of the room. It looked as though it had been some kind of party.

Blue eyes slowly looked down at her victim and then did she realise who she had been feeding upon. Tears welled up within her eyes, but they would do her no good as she gently laid the blonde beauty upon the floor. She hastily made a gash upon her wrist and pried open Angelique's mouth. However, worried marred her features as Angelique remained unresponsive. She even painted Angelique's lips with her blood and yet nothing happened. She shakily pulled Angelique into her lap and wondered how it was possible for her to be in such a situation. Her heart ached at seeing her beloved so pale and still.

Rani felt someone rushing toward her. She knew they were going to attack her and so she lifted her blue eyes to meet whoever it was before she let out a warning snarl. Whoever it was scrambled back so fast as if it were a wounded animal fleeing from its predator. She didn't have any time to see the surprised faces. Her only concern was lying in her lap. She quickly pierced her tongue on the tip of one of her fangs and bent over. Her lips gently massaged Angelique's unresponsive lips before she delved her bleeding appendage deep inside. She forced Angelique to swallow the hot liquid of life that was so potent it could burn a newborn of their kind. She continued to massage the inside of Angelique's mouth until she left the slight stirring response which lifted a heavy weight off her heart. A teary smile plastered her face as she felt Angelique finally wake up and begin to feed in earnest upon her blood.

Rani gently pulled away. She felt her tongue heal instantly and knew she would see sparkling green eyes looking upon her. "Hello, my sweet!" she uttered so caressingly that Angelique almost cried out in joy. She carefully lifted Angelique into her arms and stood up. Her eyes surveyed the room once more and this time she felt the stark difference. Some were afraid of her which was understandable while others were awed. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt she had accomplished something miraculous.

"I think Melinda won't be like she used to be." commented Angelique gently as she glanced down at the brunette who was tentatively holding her neck and looking fearfully up at both of them. She smiled so sweetly that Melinda looked like she was going to soil herself. "You are truly amazing!" she whispered into Rani's ear, knowing her lover had no idea about what she was talking about.

"I believe the whimpering one will sort out this mess and we can retire to our room." Rani whispered seductively as she walked to the door. She looked powerful as she walked out of the doors and out of the tension filled room. She could still feel a pair of hazel eyes that were upon her and negligently turned around. "I believe you will come with us. You look like you need to be informed as much as I." she said caressingly as she gently invited Miki to follow them.

*******

Before…

Alexander the Great was stirring up the land. He was gathering followers to conquer the world. He was ambitious and strong; however he had one obstacle in his way that he had not foreseen. There was one land in which no one dared enter unless they wanted to face their own death. It was the legend that was heard in many stories about a warrior who survived on blood alone and would savagely meet any battle just for the taste of victory. He wanted to either conquer this mystified land or recruit the warrior that was told in the legends. He had heard a few gruesome tales, but tales had to come from somewhere. Someone must have survived to tell it to others or it wouldn't have been a legend. He also had his doubts about whether this legend was true or not as well.

"There must be a kernel of truth within this myth," commented Alexander to his band of advisors and generals. They were all dressed for war as he was since they were on the outskirts of what was known as the cursed land of death. The morale of the troops had already fallen significantly since rumours had spread out that they were going to conquer this land. There was a city near the coast that was the heart of this legend and he was going to place it under his rule. "There might just be an army of cunning tactics or a group of mercenaries protecting their home. There is no need to be concerned about the stories of this place. We have conquered all of the other lands and this is the last one. We will have full dominion over the entire world once we get them to vow their loyalty to me." His voice was deep and commanding as if he were speaking to all of his soldiers and not just the ones in front of him. He knew there would be eavesdroppers and this might help to boost their morale.

One of Alexander’s advisors spoke in his deep gruff voice. He was the eldest one among them and knew this might be his last city that he would see. He already had a foreboding feeling about this place and was very weary of the stories that sprouted from the locals who obviously lived in fear. It had been a little unnerving to meet locals who were actually happy to see them as if they wanted the lesser of the two evils. "I believe we should be cautious on this endeavour. There is so much that we don't know about them. The locals’ only talk about one warrior who is the one told in the legends. Please don't try to recklessly conquer this city like the last one. We have already lost many men and I doubt how many would follow you loyally when you most need them." cautioned the old advisor. He smiled as the others nodded in agreement. He was also lucky Alexander didn't have his head for being so frank. He doubted there was any other advisor who could speak to Alexander like the way he just did just then.

Alexander began to pace back and forth. He understood how most of his warriors were only following him for the glory and out of fear. There were few who were loyal to him for being him. They all wanted something from him. He was just lucky that most of the people standing in front of him right now were actually loyal. They were his friends except for the advisors. Only two of them were friends who would gladly wield a sword for him even though they were not warriors. The old advisor was an exception since he had stuck by him since the first city that he conquered. The advisor had been from that city and had pledged his loyalty so that his people were spared. Then over the span of many cities falling to his rule, they now had the utmost respect for each other.  

“An observation that I am aware of and I understand it is vastly important here. We’ve scoured most of the world and this is the last city that we need to conquer. It is only one more city to place under my rule before we can sail home to enjoy the fruits of our labour. We will succeed here and no legend will scare the mighty warriors of Alexander the Great.” said Alexander inspiringly as he waved his arms out wide to emphasize his kingdom before clenching his fist and resting them on his hips. He smiled broadly at the grins that were reflected back at him and knew everyone just wanted to go home. 

*******

Angelique smiled widely as she raced through the crowded streets of the small town. She laughed vibrantly as she glanced behind her to see where her assailant was. Her glowing green orbs were scouring everywhere behind her as she raced ahead to their predetermined destination. She gleefully patted herself on the back for outrunning her assailant since she couldn’t see a trace of them. She assumed the crowd of people were just too much for the three young men to give chase. 

Suddenly, Angelique felt like she had run into a brick wall and was flung backwards. However, she was saved from embarrassment as her brick wall held onto her and kept her balance. Verdant eyes looked up and met ocean blue liquid orbs. She smiled shyly up and slowly stepped back as she knew she had just slammed into trouble. 
“What trouble have you been causing now?” asked the brick wall in a smooth velvety voice. 

Angelique giggled nervously. She slowly lowered her eyes to her feet and couldn’t meet the blue eyes that saw right through her. She knew she shouldn’t have ridiculed those three young men into thinking that she was an easy target and then causing a huge scene to make everyone see them as fools. Her last prank had been lighter and she had gotten away with it. However, this time she had gone a little too far and removed all of their belts to showcase the little dignity that they had. 

“It wasn’t really bad.” uttered Angelique softly in a hesitant voice. She could feel those eyes burning holes into the top of her head. She would have run away if she thought she could, but the brick wall she had run into was the one person who knew every little detail about her. “I only got these three young men to stop their antics on all of the young maidens in the main fairway. They even tried to coerce me crudely to join them. I just thought I should teach them a little lesson.”

Rani sighed breathily. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Keep me!” replied Angelique hopefully.

Rani laughed heartily at her response. She gently lifted Angelique’s chin so that their eyes could meet. She smiled lovingly as she moved closer and planted a gentle kiss upon those soft lips. “My sweet, please be careful. You never know who you will insult and you might not be able to protect yourself. There are many out there and if I’m not with you, they will try to target you just because I gave you my gift. So please next time to also tell me where you are going.” She pleaded caressingly.

Angelique smiled gently and nodded her head. She had snuck away to the market and knew the risk she had taken to do a bit of shopping on her own. She had even increased her risk by becoming part of a spectacle. She should have been more careful and weary about the dangers of the others out there that posed her as a possible advantage against Rani.

“We should head home. I believe our time here is up. I feel we might be getting a few guests soon. Our unique family is stirring in a familiar way and I can already taste blood on my lips.” informed Rani dully as if her mind were far away. She quickly shook her head side to side to clear her thoughts and bring her back to where she was at that moment. Her slight smile managed to clear a little of Angelique’s worry. “Don’t fret, we are going to go home the express way.” she said in a calm voice that further soothed Angelique’s worries.

“What’s the express way?” asked Angelique, curiously. 

Angelique was only given a brief smile before her world turned upside down. She had barely anytime to orientate herself before Rani gently held her hand and somehow they were back at the mansion that Rani had built. She didn’t even have time to take a breath. It was as if she only blinked once and she was home. Her mind couldn’t understand how they had traversed a very long distance to be back so quickly.

She didn’t have time to think as Rani walked off to the waiting entourage of their kind. Her green eyes only looked longingly at the one person who offered her a world of longevity and beauty with the only cost of living off other people’s blood. She had been sickened by the manner in which Rani had shown her of how they procured their meals, but it was a necessity. She had learned to be cautious of her need for blood because of the addictive taste that made all of their kind spellbound by it. However, she was unique. 

She stayed in the foyer until Rani and her group of loyal friends and warriors were gone before she headed toward the stairs. There was little that was required of her in this place since she was what they considered a newborn. She only had to make sure that Rani remained happy and that was what the others thought of her as. She didn’t really care about what the others thought, however she knew one day she would probably be replaced by someone else who was more beautiful and unique. She hoped that day didn’t come soon.

Angelique walked all the way up to her chambers which she shared with Rani. Well, it was really Rani’s chambers and she had yet to decide which rooms she would want to have as her own chambers. The main room was very spacious and held various paintings that Rani had somehow procured from different places in the world. It was really a place to impress all those that happened to enter Rani’s chambers. However, the bedroom was cosier. It had limited furnishings and was more a place for Rani to retreat to. She had yet to go in there since Rani was always busy. 

She had heard many things within the mansion. Her acute sense of hearing as a human had been enhanced further once Rani had given her the gift.  Her ears were so sensitive to the slightest sound that she could hear footsteps made from a person walking at the front of the mansion. She had to adjust to everything and today had been the first time she was able to leave the mansion without fear of growing crazy. She had loved it and wanted to venture more of the outside world. However, there was much unrest within the mansion. Her hearing had picked up that there was a man who would soon be upon them and would probably challenge them with an enormous army. 

There had also been rumours that the locals were telling lies to the leaders of the enormous army. These stories were always farfetched as they all described a single warrior feasting on the blood of their victims. The people were putting up such an act that more rumours were spread about the army being disjointed from their mission. However, it was clear that soon the stories would be proven true or false.

Angelique stood in front of the mansion entrance with a few others of their kind. All of them wore servant clothes and so did she. Green eyes looked at the armoured warriors who would try to divert the enormous army away from their lands. Most of them didn’t want the leader learning their secrets. It would most likely put an end to their existence or be the beginnings of a terrible nightmare. 

Angelique had waited and watched as Rani scrambled around the mansion for a few hours. It looked as though Rani had been very busy while she had adjusted to her new senses. She wondered how this could all turn out the way it was. She had never imagined Rani putting on armour and drawing her blade on another person unless it was absolutely necessary. This seemed as though it would put them all on the map rather than keeping their existence in the dark. She wished she could have changed all of their minds, but it was for naught. She was a newborn and treated as though she didn’t know the world at all.

Her stubbornness had not gone unnoticed as she tried to have a chance to talk to Rani. She would go to great lengths to be in the same room to be able to speak, but they would be interrupted. Some of the others had also knowingly intercepted her before she could reach Rani and they would treat her with such disrespect. She was almost like the common whore from the street. Everyone treated her as such and always told her to go and wait in Rani’s chambers. However, she wasn’t what everyone thought she was. 

“We’ll be back soon, hopefully.” called out Rani to everyone waiting outside. She smiled at each individual face before her blue eyes rested on green. She could see the longing in those eyes and knew it would be a while before she could clean up everyone’s opinions about Angelique’s status. She sighed quietly to herself as one of her friends cleared his throat. She could only turn to her horse and hoisted herself up before the others got more restless. “We’ll bring some souvenirs back.”

Angelique could only hold her tongue as she watched those blue eyes turn away from her. She could not understand why Rani had been ignoring her so much when before she was turned, she was Rani’s entire world. It seemed really odd as if Rani were scared about something. She wished she could sit Rani down to get some answers from her. However, she stood there and watched as Rani rode away with her entourage of warriors. 
“Time for all of us to prepare for the worst.” announced Georgia gravely. She looked around at her fellow friends and could see the nods of agreements that came her way. Her eyes then finally rested onto Angelique. Most of them had avoided the blonde haired, green eyed beauty. Even she tried to avoid her on occasion. She wondered why Rani had even brought her to the mansion in the first place. “Let’s go inside and sort some things out.”

“Do you need me to do anything?” asked Angelique as she stared into brown old eyes. She had heard the woman’s statements and knew none of it had included her. She was a little miffed, but considered it was due to her being a newborn. She wondered what the others thought about her sharing blood with Rani. She knew that most of the people within the mansion weren’t privileged to sample some of Rani’s sweet blood.  “I can work really hard without complaints.” she added eagerly to see if Georgia would at least try to include her into their preparations of whatever they thought was going to happen. 

“Just stay out of our way. We know what to do and how to do it sufficiently. I suggest you go upstairs and pack your belongings.” said Georgia sternly as if she were talking to a delinquent. She sighed voluminously before entering the mansion with the others that were already busy going about with their duties. 

Angelique was left standing there; disappointment was written all over her face. Was she really that different from the others that they thought she couldn’t do anything for them? She could only sigh to herself and walk back up to Rani’s chambers to pack her meagre belongings. She hadn’t brought much with her since Rani had promised her everything. She wished she didn’t have to be stuck here with these people which she was now a part of. 

It wasn’t long before she had all of her things gathered. She could see that there were many people still inside, who were busy, were still doing whatever they were doing. She made sure to carry all of her belongings out to the main doors to the mansion and was careful not to get into anyone’s way. She could still hear Georgia giving instructions to some of the people in the kitchen. It was a little unnerving since Georgia’s hot temper could be felt even though the kitchen was located on the other side of the mansion. She shuddered at the thought of what it would be like if she had been subjected to that. 

Her green eyes were scampering about watching various people either rushing from one door to another or they were carrying something. It was clear that everyone knew what they were doing. She wished someone would give her some sort of insight as to what was happening. No one had said anything besides what to do and how to do it. She was just about to seek out Georgia when the woman showed up beside her from nowhere it seemed. 
“Take your stuff and go home.” instructed Georgia carefully. She swiftly grabbed Angelique’s delicate hand and placed a bag of coins into her palm. Her brown eyes stared deeply into green to force the youngster to go home. “This is no place for you and Rani has made a terrible mistake. You will be in danger if you stay here. Go home and forget about everything that Rani has shown you.”

Angelique was taken aback by Georgia’s caring manner. She had never seen the woman like this ever. She was so confused that she didn’t notice that she was back on the outskirts of her home town. She only got to look at Georgia one more time before she disappeared in a blink of an eye. She looked around and around, but there was no trace of a mansion or the people that were in it. She found her meagre belongings and hoisted it onto her shoulder. She had no intention of going back home. She was going to search for Rani. She was one of them.

She walked for hours from day to night. The sunset and the sunrise were breathtaking every time she got to see them. She smiled at the scenery which were sometimes lush and peaceful or the complete opposite which was grey and barren. However, she didn’t mind since she had procured a sun tan and even developed some good skills at tracking. 

Angelique had been surprised to find tracks that were in great number. It looked as though a herd of horseman and people with carts had come through. She could only think of one thing and who these tracks belonged to. It would be the great army in which Rani must have gone to stop. She smiled in joy at finding another way to get back into Rani’s world. It would be easy to find Rani now.

Her pace was fierce as the hope of being with Rani grew exuberantly within her. She was floating on high as she felt that the tracks were getting fresher as she went. She didn’t even take in her scenery as all that was important was following these tracks to lead her to Rani. She hadn’t realized how fast she was going or why the tracks were so fresh that it was as if they were made a moment ago and she had only just missed the owner. She felt like she hadn’t been walking for that long either and it was then that she stopped herself to think. 

Green eyes stared at the fresh tracks before she felt the danger that she had placed herself in from her carelessness. She looked around and noticed that there were several individuals who were walking away in the distance. They were armour and looked as though they were the rear guard to one of the last carriages that had passed when she was. She could feel eyes upon her and knew she had made a huge error in following the tracks blindly. 

Slowly her shouldered bag slipped from her fingers to land in a pile of wet mud. The slosh of feet could be heard as though it were the roar of a hundred carriages. She would have coward before whatever had its sights on her, but she had to be brave. She would only become more of a victim if she acted like one. She felt several eyes now that were watching her and only one of them were approaching in a carefree manner. It was as if they had no fears about her or the fact that she was travelling alone. 

She stared at the man who looked old enough to be her father. He had greying hairs on his roughly shaven face and wore an intimidating steel helmet. It looked as though he was the leader of this group that were tailing the army. His brown eyes were as cold as steel as he fingered the hilt of his blade. Her eyes did drop to his uniform where she saw an insignia on his upper left chest armour. It was the insignia of Alexandria the Conqueror. She had heard rumours about him and his army which left little imagination to what these men might do to her. 

“Good afternoon Sir, I am a traveller looking for a town that is nearby. Do you know if there is one?” asked Angelique sweetly. She could see that he was a little unstable at her kind words and unfearful manner. She beautifully batted her eyes up to the warm sun and held up her arm to shield her from its glare. She sighed tiredly before returning her eyes onto the man before her who looked undecided as to what to think of her. “I’ve been a long way and it seems I might have been going around in circles for some time.”

“I’m sorry to ruin what is left of your day, but you will come with us. Resist and we will have no choice but to kill you.” He said gravely in a high squeaky voice that so didn’t match his appearance. She was almost about to laugh at him had she not processed what he said first. He half drew his sword out in warning as he gestured to the end of the army’s rear. “The choice is yours.”

She couldn’t see any way out of it since she was virtually surrounded by the other concealed warriors. It looked as though they were mostly scouts to protect the rear guard from being ambushed. She could see how effective they were since the rear guard were pretty relaxed as they kept on moving without a backwards glance. Also she didn’t want to laugh at him in case he was offended and decided to use her as a practise pole with his blade. So she made sure he didn’t need to speak and picked up her bag. She walked in the direction that he gestured and knew that running away would probably get her a knife in the back.

She could feel him silently walking behind her. It was understandable since his voice sounded like he was a whimpering girl and she would have given in to her laughter. The rear guard were also now aware that they had picked up an extra and gave way to the both of them as they passed the slow paced warriors. There were many whistles and leering comments made her way, but she ignored them all. She couldn’t really defend herself amongst a crowd of men who looked as though they were savages, but were only held back because of the uniform they wore. They acted more like a group of adolescences pretending to be knights while trying to earn respect from each other by trying to woo her. 

The two of them walked ahead toward the front of the army. It was expected for the leader to be there which was in this case supposed to be Alexander. Immediately she spotted to acting leader and knew it was not him. Rumours had it that he was still very young and quite handsome, but this person was old and very noble looking. He looked like a real knight compared to the group of warriors at the rear of the army. 

“What is this?” grunted the old man as he sat high on his horse as if the world lay bare at his feet. He looked down upon her and could see that she was either cared for by someone or lived nearby. He assumed all of this from her appearance since she was well dressed and looked quite healthy. He could also see that she must have only started her journey quite recently with the slight sunburnt skin across the top of her nose. “This better have a good reason.”

“We found her trailing us.” squeaked the man behind his fierce helmet. 

Angelique smirked at the pitch of his voice. She would have double over in laughter, but she was being carefully scrutinized and she didn’t like it one bit. Her green eyes carefully swept those that she had captured to attention of from her mere presence. It was quite overwhelming, but she held her head high and didn’t let fear overcome her. There was plenty of time later for her to sort out her feelings once she found her way out of this predicament. 

She looked up at the old man and could see that he was mulling over what to do with her. She saw how he had already quickly dismissed her as a threat considering she was travelling light and didn’t have any weapons. Also her simple dress and slightly ragged as if she had been walking for a little while. However, she remained silent as she stared up at him. She knew it was not in her place to voice anything to this man. She didn’t see him having the authority to actually decide what to do with her.

Her wait was over though as a large troop of warriors were seen on the horizon. They were riding hard and fast with their banner held high. She recognised their flag from this far a distance as belonging to the army before her. Green eyes were glued to the lead rider who looked quite excited upon his mount as he drew closer. She could only stand there and watch along with the army that pretty much stood facing her. 
“Arrhi!” greeted the lead rider as he pulled his mount to a stop with a bright smile upon his face. He looked quite young, but very strong. His sword was sheathed upon his mount and his armour was covered in road grime. It seemed he had been travelling for quite some time as his horse panted for air and couldn’t stop fidgeting. “What have we here?” 

She could feel those brown eyes looking down upon her and almost flushed at the attention she was receiving. She hadn’t felt that way since the last time Rani had looked upon her. It was quite strange to compare the two, but she much preferred Rani’s blue eyes to this man. She could see he was the leader considering there were highly decorated guards standing around as well as a few others dressed similarly to the acting leader. 

She listened quietly as they talked about her as if she were an object. No one really acknowledged her besides the few stares she was getting from the rest of the group. The generals and the leader, who she assumed to be Alexander, were talking animatedly as if they were having a stroll through the woods. It was quite annoying considering she wanted to find a way out of all of this attention from the warriors. She could see their leering eyes and wouldn’t be surprised if some of their thoughts were vulgar. 

Her blonde hair swayed momentarily with the slight breeze that had only picked up. She heard it whistle through the trees as if there were a musician blowing melodiously on a flute. She would have closed her eyes to lose herself at the wonders of nature; however she was roughly grabbed by the arm and shoved in front of Alexander as if she were a criminal. 

Swift questions were thrown at her and all she could do was stare at Alexander. She was distracted by the look within his eyes and knew why Rani would want to stop him. She could see the underlying greed and power that he sought for which was neither coin nor land. He was searching for the ultimate treasure which was time itself. She could feel his scrutiny and felt a shiver run up her spine. Green eyes were open and knew he had the potential to be the most evil person there could be. 

Suddenly, pain erupted from her back at being kicked by the high pitched voice warrior. She wondered what had possessed him to do such a thing. However, everyone was amazed by the outcome which included her. She didn’t think the warrior would dent the armour covering his feet. She also didn’t expect the man to be hobbling around with a red face, gritting his teeth at the pain he was in. 

Silence reigned upon them as she was now stared upon with honest interest. She knew things were turning out badly with the way that she could see the cogs of Alexander’s mind working. She jumped to her feet and began to dash away. However, her effort was thwarted as Alexander’s quick thinking led to her shoulder having an arrow imbedded into it. She howled in pain and almost tripped. She felt bile rise to her lips and pushed on. She had to escape before they learnt the truth about how she was special. 

Another arrow pierced right through her leg and she crumpled to the ground. Pain filled tears slid down her cheeks as she remained lying on the ground as Alexander’s guards approached. Her throat was dry as she tried to will the pain away. She needed to get up. She needed to find Rani. She had seen the evil in Alexander’s eyes the moment he saw his man limping around. She slowly reached for the arrow in her leg and was about to yank it out, but a hilt of a sword collided against her temple. Darkness enveloped her vision and the pain was gone as she crashed into the world of unconsciousness. 

*******

Green eyes blurrily opened to greet the dark night. Only the glimmer of red light from the campfires nearby showcased the army that surrounded her. From what she could see, she assumed there were at least a hundred fires in the entire camp. Some of the men were sharpening their tools while others were already sleeping. She noted that she was at least lying on someone’s sleeping furs as well as the fact that she was lying on her front. Her hands had been bound together behind her back and both arrow wounds hadn’t been touched. 

Worry and pain filled her senses once more. She could only think of one reason why they wouldn’t have attended to her wounds. It was obviously a thought which Alexander must have come up with. She wondered how much blood she would lose before they would see their faults in leaving both arrows in. Her powerfully sensitive nose could already detect the infection which was eating away at the wounds. She wouldn’t be surprised if she already had one foot in the grave. She felt as weak as a newborn kitten and she didn’t even have the strength to moan in pain. Her mind had gone numb as she looked upon the portion of the camp that she could see. 

Alexander studied her. His cold brown eyes looked down at her as if she were his ticket to longevity and prosperity. He would be able to conquer the world without any cares about how long he would be able to enjoy it for. He saw it in her green eyes that she was much more than she seemed. A hunger seeped into his soul as he continued to stare at her. Even his generals were a little put off by his new obsession. They couldn’t understand why he would do this to her. They only knew that she would end up being one of his toys with her gorgeous looks and ample bosoms. 
He slowly stood up from where he watched and meandered over to inspect her wounds. His hands roughly touched each wound as his brows narrowed in concentration. The red glow from the fire was enough light for him to see that the wounds were fighting to heal. He was hunched over her as he continued to prod at the wounds, watching as they bled sluggishly. His hand grasped the hilt of a dagger from his belt and he moved to stab her in the other leg. However, his arm was stopped.

“That’s enough Alexander!” warned a general who was as young as Alexander. 

“Heph!” greeted Alexander in surprise. He hadn’t even heard that his dearest friend was going to meet him this evening. He thought it was not for another couple of days. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you have to stay at our last conquest to settle matters of diplomacy?”

Heph smiled at his friend and king. He carefully retrieved the dagger away from Alexander and knelt beside him to look upon the injured blonde beauty. He was intrigued by Alexander’s interest and wondered what had transpired for this to occur. He had never seen Alexander wanting to hurt someone in this way before. He saw how she was tied up, defenceless and unarmed. 

“I finished up earlier than I anticipated and rode hard to meet up with you earlier. We were slightly delayed on the road and would have met up with you two days ago. So who is she and why is she tied up with arrows still imbedded in her? Why were you going to stab her? I know it was not to kill her.” inquired Heph as he saw the fascination of the blonde grow within Alexander’s eyes. 

“She’s special. The rumours are true. She is strong and fast. I shot her in the shoulder first and it did nothing. I had to shoot a second time and caught her in the leg before she fell. We knocked her out, bound her and left her as she is. That was this afternoon and if you look closer, you can see something amazing.” whispered Alexander as he parted the material around the wounds to better showcase what he had found. 

“It’s mostly healed around the arrow shaft.” commented Heph as he peered closer. 

“Exactly and you know how we use metal arrow heads on our arrows. It would have done more damage than she has now in entering her shoulder. There should have still been a slit and she should have died from blood loss.” explained Alexander excitedly. However, his excitement was halted as he heard cries from some of his warriors who had been standing guard at several posts. 
Help hastily stood up to see over the top of everyone’s lifted heads. He could see on the outskirts of the camp that there was something happening and most of the warriors were preparing themselves. He could see their swords glittering off the firelight and wondered what had raised the alarm. His hand quickly went to his sword as he heard more screams and grunts, but on the other side of the camp. 

*******

Rani ran with excitement filling what was left of her soul. Her blade was out and she was quickly decimating the large force that were either looking for a weapon or were too stunned to defend them. She smiled brilliantly as blood smeared her blade and it was dripping wet as it slid into one body and then another. She laughed mightily as the warriors were now more prepared and some had started to engage her after the initial surprise attack. 

Her blue eyes danced among the faces of those that would soon become the victims to her blade. She was only one person on this front and she had slowed her movements down to enjoy the battle fever that engulfed her. Her entire entourage were on the other side of the camp and she believed they were quickly confusing the enemy who had no idea as to what was attacking them. She felt her companions moving faster than the eye could see and laughed at the confused looks that were on their faces. 

She gave fair warnings to all of those that were with her to only maim them. She didn’t want to decimate them or others might come to this land and seek whoever had bested the greatest army that the world had ever seen. She was amazed that the enemy were quite organised to be able to respond as quickly as they did. It was a clue as to how much Alexander had trained them. 

Blood splattered her face and her blue eyes lit up as she licked her lips. The taste of fresh blood was intoxicating, but she was used to it. It didn’t distract her from making sure these warriors were out of their misery by skewering a few and knocking out some with the flat of her blade. She didn’t really want to kill so many people since it would mean her food source would be scarce for the next few centuries if word got out. There were already too many rumours of her to begin with and this battle would need to be untold. 

She swiftly made her way to the centre where she assumed the leader, Alexander, would be. She felt excitement swim to the surface of her skin as she swatted away the flies that tried to annoy her. Her careful blows made sure to keep those hit out of the battle for good without taking their lives. She could see a group of warriors standing with blades out. As she neared them, a few rushed forward to meet her in battle. She could only smile at the remaining warriors who were watching her with disbelief in their eyes. However, all of them fell forward as they were sent to the land of unconsciousness. 

She stood perfectly still as she stared at her own warriors who were slightly out of breath, but remained whole. No one was injured and none of them had been seen. She was proud that no lives had been claimed and could see they were only just starting their task. She bent over and negligently wiped her blade on the dirt as the worry gnawed at her again. Her blue eyes never leaving her warriors who were watching her closely. It was clear they were all still on edge considering the vast number of warriors they all had to knock unconscious. 

She could feel something eating away at the back of her mind. She hadn’t really planned to attack this night, but something within herself fuelled her need to be right here at this moment. She didn’t even know what had pulled her to this place. Her growing need was overwhelming all of her senses and she was about to unleash all of her frustrations. 

“Would have been easier if we had sleeping darts like those from the Far East?” commented Rasheed as he sheathed his clean blade. He smiled as the rest of the group followed suit since they only needed the hilt of their blades. “What would you like us to do now?” he asked in boredom.

Rani’s eyes finally darted around and she looked at all of the bodies around them. However, something was odd with where Rasheed was standing. She was immobilised as she tried to figure out why Alexander was lying on top of a woman who had familiar blonde hair. 

Rasheed cast his eyes upon the bodies and then stopped at the one he identified as Alexander. His head was tilted to the side as he stared at green eyes looking at him. They looked lifeless, but there was something within them that told him the owner was very much alive. He was about to kneel down and check, but Rani was instantly at his feet looking at the green eyed blonde in alarm.

Rani, none too gently, yanked Alexander’s unconscious body off of the blonde. She finally felt the link that they shared and knew without a doubt that this woman was Angelique, but how? She quickly assessed her and saw the bound hands. She was even more alarmed as she spotted both arrow wounds with the tails having been snapped from Alexander’s fall. She quickly yanked them out, making sure their tips were still intact.
“What is she doing here?” asked Rasheed as he untied her arms before Rani pulled out the second arrow. He even noticed that Angelique had not screamed in pain or anything. It seemed her mind had long gone from her body. “She’s not responsive at all.”

Rani quickly pulled her dagger free from its sheath at her waist and cut the palm of her left hand. She clenched her hand into a fist and dribbled the droplets of her potent blood over both wounds. Her blue eyes watched in worry as it didn’t seem like the wounds were healing at all. She had covered both wounds completely with her blood in the hopes that it would heal them like she had done for countless patients before her. 

Rasheed watched Rani as she desperately tried to get the wounds to heal. However, he felt it was for naught and knew it was too late. There was no way any of them would be able to heal a person who had died. He felt a heavy weight upon his shoulders as he grabbed Rani’s hands and shook his head. “It’s too late.” he said, bleakly. 

“No!” she growled at him with snarling fangs. Clear watery tears were sliding down the sides of her face as she felt her own heart thump in time with Angelique’s. She knew she couldn’t be dead yet. There was still a little time left. “I, I just need to give her more blood.” A little light of hope had lit up in her voice as she said it. She wanted the lively woman back. She knew she shouldn’t have left so early and she should have told everyone the truth. You’ll be alright, my sweet.

She gingerly pulled Angelique into her lap. She wasn’t even concerned about the eyes that were staring at her in bewilderment. They had never seen this side of her and she had never cared to show them. She could feel them tracking every little detail about her. The clear tears, her slower movements, her gentleness made her more human than their kind. It was so hard to believe. She had been the only one that they all knew who had been among the first of their kind. Everyone had even started to believe that she was the maker.

“You have to stop this,” pleaded Rasheed as he tried to get Rani’s attention. 

“No!” yelled Rani, adamantly. Her blue eyes were glaring at him to see if he would try to physically stop her. She saw him cower back in despair. However, she turned all of her attention onto Angelique who was barely clinging to life. She closely bent over and let her lips touch Angelique’s. Her tongue was pierced by one of her fangs before she slid the pulsing muscle inside. She felt Angelique’s slow swallow and her hope began to blossom. 

She waited what seemed like an eternity before she felt Angelique’s teeth elongate into a set of fangs. Her slow ministrations of her tongue to will Angelique to drink more was being reciprocated ever so slightly. The heavy weight over her heart was lifting away with her worries. She felt Angelique’s slender, almost limp hand, gently move to rest upon her arm. She heard the many gasps from the others at not believing what they were seeing. She slowly pulled away and looked down into shining green eyes that were as teary as her own.

“What trouble have you been causing now?” asked Rani as she gently ran her fingers through Angelique’s hair. She was relieved at the slow warmth that was returning to Angelique’s body. Her blue eyes, still wet with clear tears, were enveloping Angelique completely to reassure her that she had made it in time. “Angelique?”

“Rani,” whispered Angelique ever so softly. She stared up into blue eyes and was amazed by their clear droplets. She had only ever seen another of their kind cry and it had been bloody tears. She wondered what significance this might mean to the others which she could feel nearby. She carefully sat up with Rani’s help and gradually was pulled to her feet. 

She looked around with new green eyes to see the slight breathing around her from the many bodies. Most of them were simply knocked out while the minority were slightly injured. She assumed it had something to do with the smell of blood coming from Rani’s sheathed blade. Her eyes then slowly moved to the man who had captured her as a prize and left her in a torturous state. She had no compassion left for him. He had been cruel to her only to fuel his knowledge and desires.

She hesitantly stepped closer to Alexander on shaky legs and almost collapsed if it hadn’t been for Rani’s supporting arm. She smiled sweetly up at her before she stood towering over the evil man. Her eyes had grown hard as she stood there staring. She would not forget him and she would never forgive him. She could already feel the emotions flowing from Rani. There was uncertainty and fear which was new. She had never been able to feel a person’s feelings and what was even stranger was the fact that it was only Rani’s feelings. She felt the love that Rani had for her. It was a little overwhelming, but she was transfixed on this man who had left her to slowly die. 

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked without any feeling.

“We are going to erase their memories and send them back home to forget about us and conquering forever. We’ll make him believe that this place is the end of the world and he will never return here. It is the simplest way to make sure no one else disturbs this land for a while. I assume Georgia has already completed the preparations and will be moving the household to a new land.” explained Rani gently into Angelique’s ear. She was loud enough for the others to hear her and wasn’t disappointed when they left to do the task she had set for them by the mere explanation. They knew what was expected and would do everything to make sure the illusion was in place. 

Blue eyes stared at Angelique worriedly. She could feel the slow burning of anger under the surface of Angelique’s tiredness and knew it stemmed from the treatment she received. She would have ripped Alexander to pieces, but it would leave the land in which he had conquered into a war zone. She already knew the consequences of his downfall and it would be best if they weren’t there to get involved. 

“He already d-drank from me,” uttered Angelique hesitantly. She knew how potent their blood was among humans as she had also been turned by Rani. She turned her head to look up into Rani’s eyes and could already see the alarm in them. She could even feel the tension that ran through her body as the wheels began to turn within Rani’s mind. “He will be one of us.”

Rani opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. She didn’t really know what to say. Her hesitancy was not lost on Angelique. However, they still had time to return home and recover before finding a solution to this new problem. She needed time to think about it. 

Blue eyes surveyed the large camp and watched as the others blurred from one spot to another as they mended wounds and erased memories. She could already see that Rasheed had finished all of the warriors in his area and was slowly approaching them. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had heard their entire conversation. The others were more polite to tone down their hearing sense so that they could have some privacy, but Rasheed was always cautious. 

She stared at him openly and knew he would understand that she would consult with him later. They would erase Alexander’s mind as well and it would buy them all time to figure out a solution. She made sure Angelique was steady before she knelt down and placed her palm upon his head. Her hand became warm for an instant before she pulled it away. His memory would have been erased and the illusion placed within. 

She sighed as she stood back up. Her thoughts strayed as to why Angelique was here in the first place instead of back at the manor. “How did you get out here?” she asked. She was sure that she had not been followed and there had not been any indication from the bond they shared that Angelique had been following. She had felt it for a while after leaving and then shut off the link to concentrate on her task. Her original plans were to divert Alexander closer to the mountains and then have him think that it was the end of his world. 

“Georgia told me to pack. She then took me home and gave me a bag of coins. She said that I should forget about our world and that you had made a mistake. She said I would probably get hurt and she left.” explained Angelique quickly. She could feel Rani’s anger, but knew it was more directed at herself than at Georgia. She wondered why though. “I started walking back in the direction of the manor and somehow I managed to start trailing Alexander’s army. They spotted me and once I looked into his eyes, I knew I had to run away. He shot me with his bow and I woke up trussed right here before you came.”

Rani listened and knew there was an entire chunk that Angelique had not divulged yet. She swiftly looked around to see that the warriors were all repositioned as if they had fallen asleep and some of them were even propped up onto their feet like they had fallen asleep while on duty. She felt the tension in the camp shift from making sure everyone was placed in an appropriate position to relief as her warriors assembled nearby to still give them some measure of privacy. 

“Angelique,” she sighed,” you are special. You are special like I am. You have retained some of your human qualities and the gift I gave you has only enhanced them. You still feel the thirst to feed, but you are unique. They don’t feel you as one of them. Even I was under the same scrutiny until they saw me feed with them and fight with them. I should have told Georgia and she wouldn’t have done what she thought was best for you.”

“So no one knows that I am one of them?” asked Angelique confusedly. 

“Well, the few that are here would know by now, but the rest at the manor would not. I think it’s time for us to head back and clear up a few things before someone else tries to think what is best for you. Are you feeling better?” asked Rani as she cupped Angelique’s face. She pulled their heads together so that their foreheads were touching. She felt and saw Angelique’s gentle nod before she turned her attention to her warriors. There was still much to be done.

*******

Rani and Angelique returned home the express way while Rasheed stayed behind with the others to double check that everything for the most part was in order. They had to be thorough so that it was guarantee the amount of time they had before they needed to come back and resolve the issue with Alexander becoming one of them. Their return home would be less dramatic to the way Rani and Angelique had suddenly appeared in the foyer. 

“Welcome…” faltered Georgia as she stared at Angelique confused. She was standing on the first floor landing, staring down at the two of them. She didn’t move from where she was as she knew Rani’s wrath would be upon her any moment now for sending the wee one back home. 

“Georgia,” said Rani as her blue eyes glued Georgia to the spot. She could see that Georgia was confused as well as anticipating the wrath that would be upon her. She wouldn’t have made her feel anything different if she had not thought about it. She had wondered for the last two weeks as to why no one treated Angelique with due respects that was supposed to be given because of the blood gift. Her conclusions only led her to believe that no one knew and it would mean that Angelique was indeed special. She had only figured it out a couple of days before she had to leave, but there had been more pressing matters that consumed her time. “Assemble everyone into the meeting hall. I have an announcement to make that is long overdue.” she commanded unemotionally. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to gather. All of them were murmuring of what the announcement would be about considering Rani had returned from dealing with Alexander. They assumed it had something to do with that war lording conqueror. Even the warriors who had gone with Rani returned and were assembled. The murmurs didn’t die down as Rani made her appearance with Angelique upon her arm. They were all surprised that the girl was still around and thought Georgia had sufficiently disposed of her. They all looked at their leader in respect, but were glaring at Angelique. 

“I have some news that I have put off for some time. I should have announced this earlier, but because of Alexander, it was delayed. I want you all to bow down to your new leader, Angelique. She will be staying with us.” announced Rani with a wide smile. She stared at Angelique as she told everyone and hadn’t noticed their expressions. 

Angelique was overwhelmed by the number of their kind. She hadn’t realised there had been this many within the household. She had to wonder where they all slept and if they had their own rooms or not. She had only assumed there were a few of them and some of the others stayed somewhere else. However, she didn’t logically piece together the fact that there were no other dwellings surrounding the manor in this place. 

She stared at the many glares that were directed at her. Some of them ignored her and others were confused as to why she was dangling off Rani’s arm. She could see that Rani was trying to parade her upon the others so that the announcement would make everyone realise she was one of them. However, at Rani’s small speech, she cringed. It was surprising, but it didn’t explicitly explain she was one of them. So she was getting an audience full of glares besides those that were with Rani on her little journey. 

She felt the tension in the room become hostile and could feel Rani turn her head to stare them down as if they were naughty children. She was a little relieved that no one had come to attack her, but she could see some of them coiling up ready to strike her down. It was obvious they were thinking about her as if she had coerced their leader. 

“You didn’t tell them.” she whispered so softly that Rani could barely hear her. She moved slightly away from Rani and could see the hurt that was reflected back at her. She couldn’t understand why Rani didn’t just be frank with them. Why don’t you tell them straight up that I’m one of them?

“Angelique,” said Rani in alarm as she realised her mistake. She could feel the tension in the room and if she hadn’t glared them into their place, she knew Angelique would have been hurt. She wondered why she hadn’t just come forward and told them the truth. She had meant to say it, but it came out differently. “She will be your leader.” said Rani again and it left her puzzled. She stared at Angelique and saw her retreating further away. “I don’t understand,” she tried to explain. “Why isn’t it coming out right?”

“You’ve fooled me. I should have listened to Georgia and gone home.” uttered Angelique as she backed away even further. She could feel tears sliding down the sides of her face and knew the others were no longer under Rani’s sway. She could see them gearing up and one of them would attack her soon. She wasn’t even listening to Rani anymore. There was no need for her to listen to more lies that seemed to continue to sprout from Rani’s lips. She could hear her own heart breaking as she continued to move away. However, it didn’t matter as one of them leapt up toward her.

She could see Rani’s alarmed eyes and feel her attacker coming closer. It all felt so surreal, as time slowed down and every little detail of Rani could be made out. She could see the clear tears, the human paced movement and the worry within her eyes. There was nothing left to do, but to concentrate on her attacker as he moved into her sights and put Rani out of her view. 

Anger; pulsating, volcanic, thunderous rage filled her entire being. She saw the man approaching closer. He was airborne and was poised to strike her with his claws which were extended in a wide arc. She felt the air shift ever so slightly as his arm began to close in on her. Her green eyes glowed brilliantly as she bared her fangs and hissed menacingly as if she were a lion and he were a cub. 

She leapt forward and grabbed the man around the throat as her anger poured from her body. She could feel him shaking in fear as he realised she was more powerful than he had thought she would be. She reared her other arm back with her hand clenched into a fist to drive it forward and into the man’s stomach. However, a powerful arm latched onto hers and held her still. 

Green eyes looked over to meet glowing blue with a wide smile upon her lips. She was confused by Rani’s exuberant happiness. She didn’t understand. Did I miss something? She continued to hold onto the man who had gone to attack her and knew he was trying to struggle free. Her grip was cruel around his neck, but she slowly loosened it and let him slip free. She could feel everyone’s fear now instead of hostility. Only Rani seemed to be overjoyed at her little display. 

“What’s going on?” asked Angelique in confusion. 

“I’m sorry Angelique. I had to anger you so that you would reveal to them all your true nature. They wouldn’t have believed me if I told them just like how they didn’t believe me last time when I told them I was one of them. It was necessary.” said Rani gently as she pulled Angelique into a tight hug to calm the slight anger that was still there. She felt the anger slipping away and knew Angelique’s fangs would have retracted by now. 

Blue eyes looked around the room and could see the many disbelieving eyes. They were all stunned at their new leader. She felt another weight lift off of her shoulders as things in the manor would now settle down and no one would show disrespect toward her ever again. She could feel her smile plastered to her face. Her acting abilities were top notched and luckily she had her warriors handy in case the others all charged together. 

“You owe me.” whispered Angelique as she held onto Rani and let her anger slip away. She felt so tired now after the ordeal with Alexander and now here. She wondered when she would be able to rest. Her eyes were already drooping and her body was slowly becoming limp within Rani’s arms. 

“Rest, my sweet, and I will clear up the rest.” said Rani in a caressing purr which further sent Angelique into the world of sleep. She swung Angelique up into her arms. She wasn’t surprised to see those green eyes closed and chest moving slightly with each breath.

*******

Rani smiled as she left the manor which was relocated to a new land. She had to clean up the loose end that was Alexander. She had left him alone for almost a three moons and it was high time to return to that area to see what had been brewing since their absence. She wouldn’t be surprise if he had gone home since it was what she had wanted in the first place. 

She used the express way to get right into the chambers that belonged to the king. She could see the many lush decorations which were as clean as they could be. She was sure he would be lurking around here somewhere since she could feel the bond that linked their kind together. Her heart thumped and started to pick up as she felt something wasn’t right. The hair on the back of her neck started to stand on end as she moved further into the room. 

Suddenly, a body lunged out at her and she only just barely raised her hands to fend off the great brute of a man. She could see the hunger in his eyes and knew immediately she had left this for far too long. She saw his fangs poised to rip her apart and feast on her blood. She pushed him back and gripped him around the throat to immobilise him to the bed post. His arms were swinging wildly with claws trying to scratch at her. However, she made sure to hold him by the back of his neck. His arms were longer and he was a newborn who would show amazing strength when they are born. Only a few were like her which now included Angelique. They were the only ones who were allowed into their kind without the curses the others had to endure like her cousins. 

She felt him try to claw behind him in failed attempts and wondered how he was able to be confined to this room. She could tell he hadn’t left it since he came here and there was no smell of death about this place which was really odd. She looked around again and only saw the thick chain that was wrapped around on of his legs. She cringed at the device which cut into the leg to make sure it wouldn’t be removed. She could smell the infection and feel the pain that Alexander must be in. 

Blue eyes looked around for more clues and had to wonder who had been able to figure out all of this. She wondered if this person was able to also figure out all of their weaknesses or had prior knowledge. She could even smell holy water which was only water that had been scented and apparently worshiped. She smiled at the thought that a priest might had used it on Alexander and gotten nothing but snarling fangs. Holy water was just water to their kind. It had no such attributes to ward her kind off. She was sure whoever held Alexander gathered would have tried all of the fables out there. She almost laughed at spotting a clove of garlic near the bed. 

Suddenly, she felt a blade at her neck and knew she hadn’t been alone after all. She sensed it was another man and the smell of him was enough to tell her the truth. She could smell disease from his body and the slight rattle of his sword as he tried to hold it still. She smiled at his courage and wondered who this man could be. 

“What is your name, brave man?” asked Rani.

“Heph,” replied Heph as he coughed violently before put his blade down. He knew it was a useless tool since he could barely hold it. His bloodshot brown eyes looked at Rani as if he were dreaming. He couldn’t imagine a woman being able to handle Alexander so effortlessly compared to how much effort he had to put in just to get the man to have a chain on his leg in his own room. “Who are you?”

“The one who will try to rectify what is wrong with him.” replied Rani silkily as she studied Alexander with her unhuman eyes. She could see the differences within him and how he was going mad because of his thirst for blood. She wouldn’t put it against him that any day now, he would be able to rip those chains free and go on a feeding frenzy. “How long has he been like this?” she asked in a no nonsense kind of tone. 

He replied immediately without lying. He knew she was true to her word, but he doubted the price would be her generosity. He could feel the powerful aura that filled the room and it was because of her presence. He had never felt it so thick before and it was overwhelming compared to how Alexander commanded a room. He coughed again as sweat slid down from his forehead. He could tell his fever had yet to break and the bites from Alexander weren’t healing at all. He knew he needed treatment, but he didn’t have an explanation as to how he got them. He wouldn’t be able to tell another soul the condition Alexander was in since he feared an uprising of those that opposed Alexander. 

Rani’s blue eyes traced the firm juncture of his neck and slowly pulled forward with her fangs exposed. The whiff of odour that poured from his body was overwhelming and she would have gagged, but she kept her response in check. She knew she needed a closer examination to see if she could reverse what he had done to himself. She had seen this happen many times before when a human would drink blood of her kindred and they would be intoxicated. They would become mindless blood thirsty beasts. If a human were to take blood within the sacred ritual of her people, they would only then become one of them. 

She slipped her fangs in and only took a small amount of blood into her lips. The odour coming off the man was three times better than the taste of his disgusting blood. She spat the mouthful of blood out and onto the floor before licking the spot she had bitten. With saliva and a little of her blood from her tongue, she sealed the bite and effectively marked him. There would be no one who would try to make this one as their own now that she had done this. It was to assure her that he would remain a human after she was done with him. 

“You bit him.” commented Heph as he could no longer stand and so pulled a chair over to rest in. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were droopy as he tried to concentrate on what she was doing. “Can you save him?” He looked at her hopefully. It pained him to see his childhood friend in this condition and not to mention the countless times that he had been bitten and beaten by his friend. 

Rani thought about what she should do. In actual fact, she had never turned a blood thirsty monster at this level of change back into a human before. She had only done the very few who had seen to her immediately and actually wanted to change back into a human. It all had to do with her blood since she could control how it affected the people that drank from her. She could make them one of her or she could change them back. It was her special gift that everyone saw to her as the master of their kind. However, she had to wonder at that as well since she had no memory of anyone making her into the special beast. She was just thrown into this world fully formed with no idea as to what she was supposed to do.

She slowly inched closer to Alexander and whispered gently into his ear. Her silky voice with its powerful ability to coerce a person to bid her will was making Alexander fall into a dreamless sleep. She didn’t bother to take any care with his body as she threw him onto the four poster bed and turned to face Heph. Her blue eyes watched him and could see a lot more than he wanted to show.

“You are close friends with him and you let him bite you that many times. You lack blood and thus you are ill as you are. Your health will only deteriorate further with the amount of blood you have left at this moment and the amount of infection from all of the untreated wounds. Your body can’t regenerate blood as fast as his needs and yet you still let him bite you. Do you love him that much?” asked Rani as she summed up the type of relationship that Heph shared with Alexander. She had only been sceptical before about their relationship because of the rumours, but now before her was the truth. “Do you really want to save him?”

“Can you?” he asked again hopefully.

“It will cost both of us to turn him back to normal. It might even not be worth it considering he loves you as well and will probably die a few moons down the track. However, I know that you see the empire he has created will crumble if its king is nowhere to be found. Wars will break out and the world will be caught in the middle. Do you want to save him or do you want to save his legacy?” She had already thought it through as she calculated the chances of Alexander returning to his normal self. It would be the best for this part of the world if he lived a little longer. It would give those that were with Alexander to think things through and finally resolve all of the conflicts of power between all of the lords that consulted with Alexander.

“I want to at least save his legacy. We both knew our time would be up eventually, whether it was in glorious battle or not. I just want them to remember how great he is. I want them to know how I see him.” explained Heph as he stood up determinedly, but was a little unsure as to how he would be added into the equation of saving him. 

She sighed in regret. Bearded clam, she’s going to kill me. She wouldn’t be able to keep Angelique’s promise of a long stroll on the beach on the morrow or a candlelit dinner later that night. She was supposed to check in and change him back. She hadn’t thought his progression was this far along and so it would most likely drain her dry. She would truly die just for the sake of Angelique’s conscience. She didn’t want Angelique to feel responsible for Alexander becoming one of them because he took it upon himself to drink from her blood without the ritual or her consent. 

Her blue eyes fell to the ground and she could see that Heph was a little surprised by her expression. She had shown him she was regretting what she was about to do and what the consequences would be. She looked him in the eyes and smiled confidently before explaining what had to be done. 

*******

After…

“…Alexander drank from me while Heph drank from him as I performed the ritual.” explained Rani as she sat comfortably on the lounge. She smiled as Angelique snuggled closer into her embrace and was a little surprised that she had remembered everything that had happened. She wondered what things she had missed out on for Angelique to be so clingy. “So in the end, I gave up my life and so did Heph. Alexander lived for a few more months and then his empire was dispersed among the other lords because of the power play among them. There was only one thing that was different about Alexander after the ritual. It was the last thing that I remember clearly. He had one blue eye and one brown eye. I didn’t think the ritual would do that, but I guess we were lucky.”

Miki nodded her head, trying to absorb in her history lesson of how her friend, Rani, was a reincarnated of the original Rani. She had known Rani through school and always kept in touch, but to find out that she was more than she seemed was a bit overwhelming. “So I guess that makes me relieved to know I don’t really need to look out for you anymore.” commented Miki.

“Don’t worry, all of us will be worrying about her now and she won’t be going off sacrificing herself for anyone else. I don’t even care if it is for my self conscience either. I prefer you here.” said Angelique possessively as she clung to Rani. She would never let her leave her sights again.

The End

Paths Less Travelled
By Another Author

"If we keep taking the left forks, we should end up on the main path."

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to choke down my frustration. "I think that's the rule for labyrinths, not for paths in the woods."

"Whatever," she laughed, disregarding the general surliness of my tone. "I can still hear traffic, so we can't be too far off track."

Unaware of my rising distress, or more likely blatantly ignoring it, Cecile turned left at the fork and continued. Kali pranced along at her heels, enjoying the adventure and taking every opportunity to rush ahead and then charge back with a silly doggy grin plastered across her face. I was left to trudge along behind, wondering why I seemed to be the only one to notice that we hadn't seen or heard any other dog-walkers for the past few hours. 

I kept reminding myself that this was Cecile's day. The agreement we had made last year was that when it was her turn to plan, I wasn't to criticize or complain, at least not aloud. 

We continued  along the path, weaving between trees and brushing against undergrowth. The sun continued its descent and the shadows lengthened around us. I shivered as the unseasonable warmth of the day faded and the chill of a fall evening began to set in.

***

Cecile woke me with a cup of coffee and a threat. It was Halloween and she hadn't decided if I deserved a Trick or a Treat.

Blinking at the intrusion of light when she threw open the curtains, I pulled the comforter over my head and tried to ignore both her and the dog, who had jumped up on the bed trying to burrow under the covers with me. I felt a cold wet nose pressing against my neck as the duvet and sheets were yanked unceremoniously away.

"Lauren," she whispered in my ear. "Resistance is futile."

I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head in protest.

"It's my day today," she reminded me. "That means you're slave to my every whim. If you're good and don't complain you'll get your Treat. But if you're bad ... well, that might be even better because I've got more than a few Tricks up my sleeve." 

I squinted at Cecile, catching the gleam in her eyes as she leaned over me. Reaching for the mug in her hand, I sat up and stifled a yawn. I knew that she was right; resistance was futile. I could protest and argue, but in the end, I'd find myself enjoying the ride.

From the moment we met, our relationship was a study in what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object. Cecile was persistent and I was stubborn, but we found more in one another than just the fleeting attraction of opposites and we learned to bend in compromise. In order to keep the balance, we set aside days where one of us would plan the day and the other had no choice but to follow. 

On my days, Cecile might roll her eyes at the detailed research notes and color-coded schedules, but she'd follow along without protest. On Cecile's days, I swallowed hard and plunged into the unknown world of going with the flow and seeing where fate might lead. It was nerve-wracking, but I always found myself falling head-over-heels all over again as she laughed and cajoled our way out of each predicament. 

"And before you start," Cecile waggled her finger in my face, "Kali's been fed and walked, I've decorated, all the candy has been dumped into bowls so the kids can pick their own, we have enough candles for the pumpkins and I found the CD of spooky music from last year."

"What about washing the windows?" I countered with a grin. 

Cecile snorted and slapped my thigh. "Drink up and let's get moving. We have a big day ahead of us," Cecile prompted. "I promise, Lauren, you're going to love it." 

I hid my nervousness with a smile and raised the mug to my lips. The last time Cecile planned our day, we ended up at a nude beach. I spent the entire day trying to overcome the mortification of being naked among strangers and the entire week waiting for the sunburn on my breasts to subside. I will admit that the raw look of desire in her eyes when I relented and removed my top sent a thrill down my spine and I found that as long as I concentrated on her, I forgot about the other sunbathers. 

To my relief, we spent the morning and early afternoon touring local galleries and coffee shops. I tried very hard not to roll my eyes as we wandered through the exhibitions of modern representational art, most of which had a macabre and often disturbing Halloween theme. 

The oddest interpretation of the holiday was a display of pumpkins, carved with images from the Kama Sutra. I could see Cecile's eyes light up with the idea of re-carving our own pumpkins. I raised a cautioning eyebrow, but didn't say a word. This was her day, and if we got complaints from the neighbors – I didn't want to follow that thought. While Cecile began discussing the technique with the sculptor, I wandered off thinking that ignorance was indeed bliss. 

Cecile dragged me from exhibit to exhibit, introducing me to the artists and other visitors. She stayed by my side, and I found myself concentrating on the rise and fall of her words as she discussed the displays. I delighted in the feel of her breath on my ear and the feel of her hand clutching mine as she whispered to me in excitement. Once again, I was under her spell, her enthusiasm overwhelming me and I didn't check my watch once. 

We returned home to change clothes and grab Kali. The weather had been warm and dry the past two weeks. That meant perfect dog park conditions and an opportunity to let Kali tire herself out before the trick-or-treaters began swarming our doorstep.

When Kali saw us pulling on our old jeans and shirts, she knew it was a good day for dogs and began bouncing between us in the bedroom. Pushing Kali off the bed, I bent to finish tying my shoes when I caught a glimpse of Cecile slipping a tight t-shirt over her lithe frame. It barely reached the top of her low-rise jeans and I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to drag my eyes away from the tantalizing bit of bare midriff. 

Noticing my eyes lingering, Cecile turned, placing a hand on her hip. "Lauren," she chided, "If you keep looking at me like that, the dog is going to be quite disappointed about not going to the park."

I flushed in embarrassment at being caught and finished tying my shoes. Standing, I met Cecile's gaze, only to be knocked back by an overexcited Kali. 

With a sigh, I pulled the dog out of the room to get her settled in the car before she destroyed the apartment in her enthusiasm. Cecile's laughter followed me down the hallway and out the door and I couldn't help but grin along with her. 

I raised a questioning eyebrow when Cecile emerged from the apartment a few minutes later and threw a backpack and sweaters into the trunk. "A bit of a picnic ... it's such a gorgeous day," she began as she backed the car out of the lane. 

"A picnic? In the dog park? That's kind of gross, isn't it?" I asked.

"Remember the rules. No complaints or your Treat will become a Trick," Cecile admonished. "Besides, we should eat something light before we head to the costume party." 

"We're going to a party?" I asked. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach.  The last time we had to go to one, I had been put in charge of picking up the costumes which fell victim to an unfortunate series of events involving a leaking caulking gun and an overheated car trunk, Cecile’s Venus on a Half Shell Costume and  my niece’s Tickle Me Elmo.   Although Cecile won the night’s most original costume, the elusive ginger bearded clam, I just got a lot of odd looks as I tried to remain inconspicuous dressed as a Starfleet Medical Officer with a bald teddy bear plastered across my chest.  

"Relax, it's just friends ... and besides, I've got your costume already."

"Oh?" I choked out as a new dread began to rise in my chest. 

"Lady Godiva ... now that you have no tan lines," she teased as she pulled onto the highway, merging with reckless abandon into the fast lane. Glancing at my white knuckles, she began to laugh and we continued on our way with Cecile singing along with "Bad Moon Rising", Kali drooling in anticipation and me scowling at both of them. 

*** 

The dog park was overrun by the time we arrived. Everyone wanted to tire their pets out before the big night of trick-or-treating ahead, and as we were well in to the afternoon, most of the owners made use of the commons to let the dogs play and chase each other. This particular park was a reclaimed quarry, now county land, and the open field was abutted by acres of woods, criss-crossed by paths.

Grabbing my hand, Cecile by-passed the commons and dragged me down the main path leading into the woods. The woodland paths were less crowded but when we came across other walkers, Cecile smiled and pulled me on, clicking her tongue at Kali to follow. 

She guided us off the regular tracks and deeper into the woods. These were paths we seldom walked as they were normally claimed by the more adventurous bicyclists during the summer and cross-country skiers in the winter months. I looked expectantly at Cecile. She returned my gaze innocently and told me that she didn't want to share our picnic with every dog in the park. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and conceded the point; this was her day and even though I had some reservations over what she was planning, a part of me was curious to see how far she would push. 

As we moved away from the common routes, the paths began to narrow. The main tracks were wide enough for two couples to pass one another, with patches of pine needles and leaves scattered along the sides of the dirt pathways. Hundreds of people and their dogs traversed these every day and route markers were posted. Farther in, the paths narrowed and the pine needles and leaves covering the path became thicker, obscuring the roots that jutted from the ground and making walking a bit more treacherous. We were still able to walk together, holding hands, but one of us would often have to duck around a tree trunk or small bush.

The woods consisted of a mix of birch, maple, elm, pine and spruce trees planted years ago as part of the reclamation project. Although the ground was covered with recently fallen leaves in hues of red, gold and brown, and the trees above still held enough foliage to shield us from the sun. The county groomed the main paths, cutting back and clearing damaged trees, but the less traveled paths had logs and deadfalls scattered throughout, forcing us to climb over trunks that had fallen across the paths. Kali, being a golden retriever-collie cross, jumped over these obstacles again and again as if on a private steeplechase, returning only when we passed out of her sight range. 

The farther we went, the stronger the smell of pine needles became while the ground cover appeared undisturbed by tramping feet and paws. I took a deep breath, relishing the clean and refreshing scent but found that it was marred by the slight undertone of decay. The leaves that had fallen were starting to decompose, reminding me that despite the warmth, it was autumn now, and summer, like all good things, had come to an end. 

We continued on and I began to enjoy myself. Deep in the woods, it was quiet and peaceful. The sounds of playful dogs barking and owners chatting, whistling and calling were absent, and unlike along the main routes, I could hear birds and small animals scurrying across the forest floor. Ahead of us, Kali was ecstatic find new areas to romp in and was chasing the occasional squirrel unwise enough to venture down the trees, the cracking of sticks and rustling of underbrush giving us a general idea of where she was. I grabbed Cecile's hand and raised it to my lips for a kiss, smiling a shy thank you for this day. 

Hand in hand, we followed the paths seemingly at random until we broke from the trees into a small clearing, no more than ten feet across and fifteen feet wide. 

"Perfect," Cecile murmured as Kali bounced up to us. 

"Now we eat?" I asked hopefully, on both my and the dog's behalf. 

"Yes, Lauren," Cecile agreed as she removed her backpack, "Now we eat ... and maybe you get your Treat."

Ignoring my questions about that last statement, Cecile removed a thin tartan blanket and told me to lay it out in the middle of the clearing. After chasing Kali off the blanket three times, Cecile took out a rawhide chew toy and tossed it off to the side to distract her. Laughing, we settled on the blanket and I watched with interest as she pulled out packages and containers. I snorted when she brought out the old wineskin she used to sneak alcohol into the local music festivals. 

We sat on the blanket and nibbled on cheese and pâté spread on baguettes and squeezed wine from the skin, giggling as it tended to splatter. Lying back on the blanket, I basked in the sun and in Cecile's conversation. Warm and satiated, I stared up at the branches of the trees in the surrounding woods, watching the breeze rustle through the leaves, and thought that this was one of our best days.

But it was getting late, and we had to go. Sighing, I pushed myself up and started packing up what was left of our feast, tossing the leftover pâté and cheese to Kali. 

"But, Lauren, you haven't had dessert yet," Cecile said from behind me.

Straightening up, I looked over at my shoulder at her. That feeling of dread was back. I stood and walked over to where Kali was, near the edge of the clearing. Kali's ears perked and she bolted into the woods, crashing through underbrush in an attempt to chase or be chased. 

"Cecile," I began, "We need to get going ... it's late, we have to get Kali home and the kids are going to be showing up soon for candy and then we have to get ready for the party. The roads are going to be packed with people trying to get home in time for the kids or heading out for some last minute party supplies." 

I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop. I felt her warmth behind me and then her hands were on my shoulders, turning me to face her. 

Pushing me against the trunk of a birch, Cecile smiled wickedly. "Relax, Cherie." 

Staring into her eyes I sensed the challenge behind the smile. Whether this would be a Trick or a Treat was completely up to me and whether I argued or relaxed and went with the flow.

Our eyes locked and I was overwhelmed by the emotions that she wrenched from me with every look, every word, and every touch. I saw myself reflected in her eyes - the person who sang love songs off key, who collapsed in fits of giggling while making love, the person that I wanted to be ... the person that she drew out of me. And then I was in the eye of the storm, the flood of doubts and worry calmed.

I sank back against the tree and allowed a small smile to curl across my lips. A flash of triumph crossed Cecile's face as her head descended and our lips met. 

***

Her lips brushed against mine, allowing me a last chance to change my mind. My resistance crumbled at the touch and I was consumed by the rush; all sense of propriety swept away by Hurricane Cecile. Sucking gently at my lower lip, she lifted a hand, running her fingers through my short hair. I felt the flick of her tongue across my lips and as it sneaked inside my mouth, I couldn't hold back my groan. 

Clutching my hair, Cecile pressed me harder against the tree. I felt the bark digging into my back as she pushed me, her mouth insistent as one leg slipped between mine. My hands wrapped around to hold her tight against my mouth as I became bolder in capturing her lips and tongue. 

My hand slipped beneath her t-shirt, caressing the warm skin as I traced a path from her hip to her stomach until my hand rested just below her breast. Cecile broke the kiss; her breathing laboured, and stared into my eyes. The challenge was gone; in its place was a raw, natural heat. Locking eyes with her, I moved my hand to cup her breast and brushed my thumb against the bare nipple. Her breath caught and in that instant I saw a need that spoke of desire and lust reflected in the flash of her eyes, whether hers or mine didn't matter. I pulled her head down into a consuming kiss. 

The combination of the heady kiss and the increasing pressure from her thigh was overpowering and all I could focus on was removing all barriers between us - to be free to see her, feel her, taste her. Cecile ground herself harder against me then pushed back, giving me room to remove the t-shirt. I pulled her close again, dropping my head to her chest, resting my forehead between her breasts. I felt the thrum of her heartbeat and my ears filled with the sound of her ragged breath. 

"Oh god, Lauren, don't stop now." Her voice was husky with want and she arched towards me.

Raising my head, I slid my hands back to her exposed breasts, massaging them with my thumbs running circles around the areolas. Groaning at the contact, she grabbed my head and drew me against her. My tongue swirled around the hardened nub, flicking then sucking. The gentleness gave way to sharp nips and bites at Cecile's whispered encouragements, leaving red marks on her tender flesh. 

My mouth moved to her other breast while my hands dropped to her jeans and fumbled with the button and zipper. Cecile's hands joined mine and somehow we managed to push the jeans off her hips, and down her thighs. Still worrying her breast, I lifted my eyes to meet hers and I placed my hand against her vulva. Heat radiated through her underwear and I caught the distinctive scent of her arousal. Cupping her mound, my middle finger pushed the material between her lips and my palm rubbed against her clitoris. She grabbed my shoulders and began thrusting against my hand, desperate for more.

"Tell me what you need," I asked, my fingers teasing against the cloth.

"You," she gasped as my palm ground against her clit. "Against me, touching me, inside me ... I need you." 

I relented and slid my hand beneath her thong. My fingers returned to their positions, but the middle finger began to slide unencumbered through her folds. I brushed her clitoral hood and Cecile stiffened and cried out, her short nails digging into my shoulders. 

Straightening up, I slid my hand back down, and slipped two fingers inside her as my thumb came to rest on her clit. Sawing my fingers in and out of her as my thumb circled and flicked, I pulled her into a savage kiss. Her scream echoed inside my mouth as I felt the contractions around my fingers. I continued to move my fingers, forcing another explosion and rush of wetness. She slumped against me as the tremors passed through her body and I held her tightly as her breathing returned to normal. 

"Cherie, we have to take up camping," Cecile murmured. I felt her mouth curving into a smile against my neck.

"Not likely," I responded.

She laughed and moved her hands up to my shoulders. She lifted her head and grinned into my eyes as she leaned towards me. The kiss was slow and sensual and I felt her trace my lips with the tip of her tongue. She whispered softly against my mouth. "I love you, Lauren. And now I want to fuck you."

My eyebrows rose as she clutched my shoulders tighter and started to pull me away from the tree. She stumbled, her jeans in a pool about her feet. Laughing, I grabbed her hips to steady her and somehow we managed to make our way back to middle of the clearing.
I fell onto the blanket; my landing partially cushioned by the pine needles and leaves beneath it, and Cecile tumbled down on top of me. In our awkward journey from the tree to the blanket, she had managed to kick off her shoes, jeans and underwear. Naked, she lay between my thighs and across my chest and I ran my hands along her back and ass.

"Now then," she teased as she hovered above me, blonde hair hanging down and brushing my face. "There was some discussion of Treats, wasn't there?"

I grinned and grabbed her with one arm as the other pushed me over so that I now lay on top of her. She gasped in surprise but quickly turned the tables by slipping a hand over my breast and pinching the nipple. Startled, I was thrown back to my previous position, this time with Cecile having the leverage to keep me down. She slipped her hand to the juncture between my legs and began rubbing and pressing the seam of my jeans into my pussy. I arched my back and bit back a moan as I felt a warm rush flood me. I opened my eyes and saw Cecile's intent gaze, her eyes flicking from my eyes to my mouth to my heaving chest. She smiled and I saw her eyes focus on the hard nipples pressing against my t-shirt.

I groaned when she lowered her mouth to flick her tongue against the aching bud. With just the tip, she teased and played, a delicate counterpoint to the rougher movement of her hand between my legs, mashing against my throbbing vulva. I felt an electric jolt race from my toes to my head when she pressed the seam against my engorged clitoris. Her fingers increased the pressure at the sound of my gasp and began a circular motion, pressing the thick material harder into my sensitive flesh. 

"Harder," I pleaded, my breathing ragged. "I'm almost there!"

One hand clutched the blanket as I felt my entire body stiffen, readying myself for the crash of my mounting orgasm. My other hand clutched at her head, trying to force her closer to my nipple. 

And suddenly the pressure was gone. My eyes snapped open in disbelief and the aching deep in my pussy beat in tandem with my wildly pounding heart.

"Patience, Cherie," Cecile crooned. 

She reached for the hem of my shirt, grabbed the edge and pulled upwards, exposing my belly. She ran her hands along the exposed area, her fingers only the barest whisper against my skin, then suddenly brought her nails to bear as she raked my stomach and sides. I cried out in surprise as my back lifted from the ground in reaction. She lowered her head and began kissing and licking the red lines left by her nails, the cool and gentle caress of her lips and tongue soothing my abraded flesh. 

She raised my shirt above my breasts, never shifting her attention from my face, her desire telegraphed in her unwavering gaze.

"Mmmm, such magnificent breasts," she whispered. She cupped my tits, palms and fingers massaging them through my bra. The gentle caresses turned to hard kneading and her mouth descended to kiss the top of my breasts above the material. I gasped at the feel of her teeth grazing my flesh, my mind awash with pleasure while she nipped at my exposed skin and pinched my hardened nipples through the cloth. 

Cecile sat astride my thighs, and dragged me into a sitting position. She pulled my shirt off, throwing it to the side, running her hands along my back and raking her nails once again against the sensitive flesh. Her fingers found and released the clasp of my bra, and grabbing the straps, she yanked it off me.

I drew her closer to me, savoring the feeling of skin to skin, her smaller breasts pressed into mine, our nipples rubbing against one another. I grabbed Cecile's hair and dragged her into another kiss, our tongues swirling in a mad dance. My other hand swept down between us, inching toward her vulva. My fingers touched her slick lips and we both groaned. Pushing against my shoulders, she raised her hips, pleading. I traced my fingers along her slit, collecting her wetness. I slid a finger deeper, moving it slowly through her folds, teasing and exploring.

Cecile's head fell back as she began to rock her hips against me, trying to force my finger deeper. 

"Patience, Cherie," I chided as I pulled back my hand. Cecile's groan of frustration reverberated in the small clearing. 

"We're past the point of patience," she growled. 

With a not so playful shove, she pushed me back down to the blanket, her mouth enveloping one of my breasts. Her mouth was warm and wet and her teeth bit down hard on my nipple. I gasped in pleasure and pain as she continued to ravage my breast, groaning when her mouth lifted to continue the assault on my other breast. 

She raised herself on her hands and stared into my eyes. "Pants. Off. Now." She demanded with a shuddering breath. 

I pushed up and she moved to the side, her mouth now on my neck and her hands grasping and twisting my nipples. I was desperately trying to kick off my shoes and unbutton my jeans, but the distraction of her warm mouth against my ear, whispering what she wanted to do and have done, clouded my mind with lust. Finally, I succeeded in toeing off my shoes and was able to slide my jeans and underwear down from my hips. Cecile abandoned my breasts to help pull the pants off completely. 

I sat on the blanket, my breathing ragged and my breasts and neck tingling. Cecile crouched above my feet, her eyes on my pussy. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips and she raised her gaze, sweeping across my belly and chest, coming to meet mine. We grinned. 

She launched and tackled me, pushing me once again onto the blanket. I laughed as she buried her face into my neck, nipping my collarbone. Drawing her close, my hands tracing the muscles straining along her back, I basked in the feel of her naked flesh pressed against mine. I grinned in anticipation when I felt her begin to push herself down, her wet pussy leaving a trail along my thigh as she kissed her way towards my mound. I reached out to touch her hair and she looked up. 

"Both of us, together," I breathed. Her confusion turned into a broad smile and she sat up. I pulled her back towards me and lay her on the blanket, moving my position so that I was now hovering over her mound as I moved my own over her face. 

I felt Cecile's hands grasping my thighs, pulling me down. I clutched her thighs in turn, crying out as I felt the heat and wetness of her mouth envelop my pussy, her tongue caressing my deepest folds and sneaking down to flick my sensitive clitoris. I dropped my head to rest upon her shaved vulva. The mounting heat was more than I could bear; all I could concentrate on was the pressure of her lips and tongue. Gasping, I turned my head and bit lightly on her thigh in an attempt to hold back my cries. She shuddered in response and nipped at my sensitive flesh in return. 

Raising my head, I began to kiss the top of her pubic mound. My tongue snaked out to explore her sweetness while my fingers spread her lips, searching her inner folds, finding her entrance. My mouth found her clit, hard and straining, Cecile bucked against my face as my lips sealed around it. Sucking and flicking in turn, I kept her little bud in my mouth as I continued to thrust with my fingers.

Cecile wrapped her arm around my ass and held me tightly. The swirling of her tongue became more frenzied and she began a fast rhythm across my clit. She thrust a finger into my opening, letting it rest there as she worried my clitoris with increasing pressure. I could feel it building; all around me, the world was spinning and breaking apart and all I could do was hold onto Cecile while I was swept along with the raging storm. My body stiffened as I was engulfed by the waves of my orgasm. A whimper was all I could manage as I gasped and fought for my breath, my cheek pressed against Cecile's pussy, my nails digging deeply into the flesh of her thighs. 

Trembling, I started to breathe again and released my hold on her thighs. Cecile continued to kiss and lick, avoiding my sensitive clit, and the gentle sensations helped calm my racing heartbeat. I pushed myself up on shaky arms and gazed down at Cecile's wet mound. The inner lips were red and engorged and her clit peeked out of the folds, begging for attention. With a slow grin, I lowered my mouth to greet it. 

Cecile's soft cry as I brushed the tip of her clit renewed my energy. I moved my fingers back to her opening, circling and dipping in on occasion while my tongue circled her clit. I heard Cecile moan my name and I doubled my efforts, sucking in her clit and plunging two fingers into her. When my teeth raked over her clit, she let out a guttural scream her hips bucking with a frenzied pitch. I sucked her clit harder, batting it with my tongue, biting gently on the engorged flesh, not letting up until I heard her cry out my name and felt her clamping down on my fingers, coating me with a fresh rush of slickness.

I slowed my attentions as Cecile's shuddering began to abate. I rolled to the side and turned so that I was now lying face to face with her on the picnic blanket. I reached my hand up to touch her cheek, my eyes met hers.

"Well, that was a nice Treat," I drawled, a lazy grin spreading across my face.

She kissed my fingers as they traced along her lips, sucking one in briefly with a playful glint in her eye.

"There's still a Trick or two that I can pull out," she threatened.

"Better not be any 13 inch Tricks in that knapsack," I warned.

Cecile laughed and drew me into a long languorous kiss.

***

We lay entwined, whispering and touching until the coolness of the air began to intrude and Kali started barking furiously in the forest nearby. With heavy sighs, we separated and began searching for the clothes we had scattered across the clearing.

Cecile was looking for her second shoe near the birch tree when Kali came prancing out of the woods. I heard her cry out, followed by a growl from Kali. Pulling my t-shirt over my head, I ran over to the edge of the clearing, panicked at the thought that someone may have been in the woods, watching us.

Cecile was backing away from Kali, the shoe cradled against her chest and her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide in fear and disgust. I looked towards our dog and saw that she had something hanging out of her mouth.

"Lauren, make her drop it. That's disgusting," Cecile shuddered.

Stepping closer to Kali, I recognized the object in her mouth as a bone; a bone that still had some flesh on it. The dog looked at me with a measure of pride and rebelliousness. 

"Kali," I said. "Drop it! Drop it now!"

Considering her options, Kali ran to the blanket, and stood defiantly in the middle of it. 

"Kali," I warned. She finally dropped the bone and sat down with a silly lopsided tilt to her head while she seemed to smile.

"Good girl, Kali. Now come here and sit," I instructed. She cocked her head at me, took one last lingering look at the bone and trotted towards me. Commanding her to stay, I walked to the blanket.

Steeling myself, I crouched down to get a better look. Cecile came up behind me, resting her hand on my shoulder, admonishing me not to touch it. I picked up a stick from the ground and turned the gory prize over. It was quite thick and about a foot long with one end snapped off, creating a jagged edge. In places, blackened flesh was still attached. Most of it, however, was a stained, dirty white, coated with mud and pine needles. I could see teeth marks along the surface, more marks than Kali could have made in such short time. The marks at the jagged edge were larger and deeper than the marks that were covered with saliva. My stomach rioted at the smell that surrounded it; the stench of decay and putrefaction hung in the air.

"It's probably somebody's pet that they buried in the woods. Some wild animals or other dogs probably dug it up," I reasoned, straightening up from my crouch. "We should go. Just leave it here and let's go. It's getting dark and I don't want Kali wandering around looking for more toys."

Cecile looked into my eyes, and I held her gaze, not letting her see how disturbed I was by the size of the bone. She let out a sigh and smiled tentatively. I smiled back and we returned to edge of the clearing where I snapped the leash onto Kali's collar. Cecile stuffed the last of our things into her backpack. She looked at the blanket on the ground. We left it spread in the clearing, the bone resting near the centre.

We started towards the path when I stopped and grabbed Cecile's hand. I pulled her close and whispered how much I loved her into her ear. She stepped back and looked at me again; this time the smile reached her eyes. Still holding hands, we stepped back onto the path. 

***

Once we were far enough away from the clearing, we released Kali, confident that she wouldn't leave our line of sight. We talked our way through the incident with the bone until both of us were comfortable that it was probably the dug up remains of a pet. The farther we moved from the clearing, the more our mood lightened and Cecile began teasing me about what other tricks she had packed away in her bag. 

We walked through the woods, following the path. I began to grow concerned as the paths continued to get smaller and the undergrowth became denser and snapped at our legs. Eventually, we were forced to walk single file, brushing back the small limbs that hung across the track. Worry began to gnaw at the back of my mind.

When I voiced my unease, Cecile shrugged and told me that as long as we kept taking the left forks we'd be back to the commons soon enough. I muttered a caustic response and followed along, hoping she was right as the day was beginning to cool and the sun would be setting soon. I stopped and cocked my ear, trying to figure out what direction the sound of traffic was coming from, thinking that if we could find the highway we could follow it back to the parking area near the commons. I strained my ears, turning to face each direction, but the sound seemed to come from all around me – a constant murmur of cars in the distance

We continued taking the left forks as the sun sank into the western horizon. Ahead of me, I could see Cecile's shoulders tense and her head kept turning up, checking the progress of the sun's descent. Her step was less buoyant and she snapped at Kali when the dog bounded out of the woods, startling us with her sudden arrival. Taking a deep breath, I moved closer behind her, letting my hand rest on her shoulder.

"It can't be much further," I said quietly. "The traffic sounds louder, doesn't it?"

Cecile turned her head. There was something in her eyes that I had never seen before, an uncertainty. I gave her a wink and squeezed her shoulder. 

"Just think of what a riot we'll have at the party tonight, drinking margaritas and telling everyone about our harrowing adventure," I joked. She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me for a moment. 

"Next time we bring your GPS," she grumbled. My face broke into a grin and the two of us began to laugh as we continued walking single file along the tiny path.

****

"Look, the path gets wider," Cecile's voice was tinged with relief as she pointed ahead of us. 

We began to breathe easier as we made our way towards the widening path. The sun was nearly down now, the sky a swirling mass of red and pink as the fiery orb disappeared beyond the horizon. The moon was already out and was full in the clear twilight sky, but darkness was settling in the woods and it was getting increasingly difficult to follow the paths. 

"Finally!" The knot in my gut began to loosen and my voice wasn't as strained when I replied. "We'll get on the main path, make our way back to the commons and get the hell out of here. I vote that we lock the doors when we get home, eat all the candy and down a few bottles of wine."

Cecile smiled and pulled me on as we walked faster. We stepped off the small track and stopped in disbelief. This wasn't a wider path. This was a clearing. A clearing with a red and green tartan blanket spread out in the middle of the space.

My heart thudded in my chest and all I could hear were the thoughts screaming in my head. We were back where we started. Hours of walking and we were back where we had started. Panic hit, and I broke into cold sweat as my eyes fixed on the blanket. 

The damned blanket was here, spread out like we had just gone off for a short jaunt. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything but the thoughts and accusations tumbling through my mind. Cecile's hand was limp in mine and I turned to her. 

She stood still, staring as Kali ventured towards the blanket, sniffing and rooting in the ground cover of pine needles and at the blanket. "Where's the bone?" she whispered.

"What?" I snapped. "Who gives a damn about the bone? We're back where we started. Take the fucking left path ... back to where we started." My voice was shriller with every word and I squeezed her hand tightly. The panic that had been lodged in my throat burst forth, spreading across the clearing and tainting the night air with my fear and anger over this whole situation. 

Kali backed away from us, skulking with her ears laid back and her head hung low. My rage continued to bubble up, masking the panic. My face hardened into a mask and my eyes burned with frustration. I turned on my heel and walked a few steps away, trying to get control of my anger. 

I leaned my head against a birch, trying to moderate my breathing and slow my heartbeat. Staring at the ground, I saw the trampled grass at the base of the tree. Closing my eyes, I reached back and felt the tidal wave of passion and joy I had felt a few hours ago. When I opened my eyes, the panic was gone; all I could see in my mind's eye was Cecile, standing alone in the clearing, staring at me as tears welled in her eyes, listening to my ugly words. 

I returned to her side and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close into my body, resting my head on her shoulder. She leaned into me and I heard her hitching breath. My heart ached in response. I whispered in her ear. She sobbed and turned in my arms. In the dying light I could see the flash of blue of her eyes, amplified by unshed tears.

"Okay, so we're back where we started," I began. 

"Lauren..." Cecile bit her lip and a tear escaped.

"So we have to figure out what to do next," I continued, raising my hand to her cheek. "It's just about dark now, and even with the clear sky and the moon, it's going to be difficult to find the paths, let alone stay on them."

Cecile's eyes widened and she swept the backpack off her shoulders. Crouching on the ground she began pulling containers, papers and the wineskin out of the bag, then moved to the outer pockets, rifling through their contents. With a cry of victory, she stood brandishing a ring of jingling keys in my face. A wide smile appeared on her face and I was surprised when a thin beam of light hit my eyes. 

"Hey!" I complained and she redirected the beam of the small novelty penlight. We couldn't help but smile at the small circle of light that now illuminated the ground between us. The beam wasn't strong and it only illuminated about a foot in diameter, but it was a welcome sight in the darkening woods. Both of us were grinning like two little kids until the beam started to flicker. Cecile switched the beam off and we were thrust back into the dark. 

"Okay, so we've got some light, but probably not for long. I don't know that it would last long enough for us to find the main paths, even if we used it sparingly," I reasoned. 

"Maybe we should just stay here for the night. Wait for morning and try again when it's light."

Cecile looked around the clearing and then closed her eyes, her lower lip trembling.

"When the sun comes up, we can use it as a compass point ... just keep walking towards it and we'll come to the edge of the woods. It's only a few acres, if we walk in a straight line, we'll find the road or some houses."
"But we were following the sun," she interjected. "The entire time I kept my eye on the sun and we've been moving in the same direction despite the twists and turns of the paths. There's no way we should have ended up here. I even looked up the map of the paths yesterday ... there's no reason we haven't hit a main path yet."

"We can try again in the morning."

"I just hate the idea of spending the night in the woods," she sighed.

"You're the one that wanted to take up camping," I reminded her.

"Camping with a tent, a sleeping bag and a car that can drive us to a five star hotel when we remember how much we hate camping," she countered. 

"Ah, c'mon," I teased, "It'll be an adventure. And the stories we can tell afterwards? Everyone already laughs at the fact that I get lost in the mall, getting lost in the dog park will solidify my reputation as directionally challenged." 

"But I'm the one that got us lost," Cecile corrected. "This was my idea."

"We got turned around," I stated simply. "And we'll be home in the morning."
Cecile reached down to grab the wineskin and pressed it into my hands.  “Surely it has to be cocktail hour somewhere.”

***

We sat near the edge of the clearing, our backs propped up against a large log. We cuddled with each other, Cecile wrapping her arms around me as I rested my head against her chest. We tried to convince Kali to lie across our legs but she ignored our pleading and opted to curl up against Cecile.

The blanket still lay in the middle of the clearing, neither of us willing to touch it. Although the bone was now gone, probably taken by some scavenger, the smell of decay still lingered in the clearing. I knew that later, we'd have to break down and use it to keep warm through the rapidly chilling night, but for now, we were content with our sweaters and holding one another for warmth.

The clearing was dark, but light from the moon provided some illumination. The forest around us was pitch black. I eyed it nervously. Night sounds abounded; we could hear scuttling of nocturnal animals venturing out of their warrens and dens and the odd cracking of branches and crunching of leaves. Both Cecile and I tensed when they sounded too close, but as far as we knew, nothing ventured into the clearing. 

The ever-present hum of traffic in the distance was there as well. The sound taunted me as we sat against the fallen log, lost in the middle of three acres of woods. A part of me wanted to jump up and run recklessly into the dark woods and follow the sound, desperate to find the highway that sounded so close. Caution overrode my rash instinct, and instead, I pressed myself against Cecile, taking comfort in her presence. 

Beside us, Kali slept contentedly, her soft snores and occasional whimpers a familiar sound. I found myself concentrating on listening to her and Cecile's voice, trying to block out the unfamiliar sounds of the night-time woods and the constant drone of traffic.

Although we were alone, we spoke quietly. Our conversations rambled from topic to topic, about everything and nothing. If I closed my eyes, I would almost believe that we were spending a night at home, sitting on the couch just enjoying one another's company. 

"So tell me again," I sighed. "How much do you really love me?"

Cecile laughed and squeezed me tight against her. "I love you so much that I've lured you into the woods so that you can spend the night sleeping on the ground, freezing your nipples off." 

"Hmmm, that's not really a lot of love. I prefer to think that you lured me into the woods in order to ravish me on a bed of pine needles." 

"Speaking of ravishing," she intimated.

I lifted my head off her chest and looked her in the eye. "Isn't that what got us into trouble in the first place?"

"Perhaps it will get us out of trouble if we do it again, Cherie," she teased, her mouth finding mine in the dark. 

Deciding that this was a pleasant enough way to spend the chilly evening, I pressed back into her. Playful kisses and nips began to heat up as our tongues began to battle one another. The warm rush of the afternoon resurfaced, and my heart began to pound and my ears filled with Cecile's moans. Kali grumbled as Cecile shifted away from the log and the dog went off to find a quieter place to sleep. 

Rolling on top of Cecile, my mouth plunged down to her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin beneath her ear. My hand snaked up under her t-shirt and sweater, cupping her breast, my fingers twisting her nipple. Cecile growled in response, her chest reverberating with the primal sound. Her hands made their way under my own sweater and shirt and when I twisted her nipple again, I could feel her nails digging into the flesh of my back. Crying out in surprise, I dropped my head to her chest, gasping as the initial pain settled into a delightful ache. 

My breathing was ragged as I forced her legs apart with my own, pressing my thigh against her covered mound. In response, she lifted her left thigh, bumping it against my pussy, electric shocks dancing through every nerve. I began thrusting, and we fell into a familiar rhythm. Cecile's thigh ground into me, each movement sending shockwaves through my soul. 

Everything that had happened this day, every thought, feeling and emotion were gone and negated in this moment. The joy, the anger, the fear and the panic of the day were torn apart and recreated into an overpowering feeling of animal lust and desire. The world around me ceased to exist and all I could see, hear, smell and taste was Cecile. We were grunting with every stroke, stifling our cries and screams in each other's mouth. My hips began to buck uncontrollably and Cecile's body trembled in response to my frenzied movements. 

We froze at the sudden shrill barking that broke through our lust driven haze. I hovered over Cecile, my breath trapped in my lungs, listening as Kali's cries were followed by a crashing of underbrush and yelps.

Rolling to my side, I quickly scrambled to my feet. My stomach clenched with panic while I tried to focus and locate the sounds of distress coming from the woods. Staying in a crouched position, I placed a hand on Cecile's arm and stared into the inky darkness of the surrounding woods. 

Sounds erupted all around us; limbs cracking and the sound of running. Kali's cries turned to whimpers. A deep growl resounded from the depths of the forest, forcing my heart into overdrive. Cecile was now crouched beside me, clutching my arm. 

"Kali!" I called, fear in my voice. I stood, straining my ears to find the direction that her yelps were coming from. Turning towards the log, I began searching in the dark, patting around on the ground for the broken tree limbs that I had tripped over earlier. My hand found one and I wrapped my fingers tightly around the stout branch. Grabbing another, I turned back to Cecile, forcing one into her hands. Hefting my own like a baseball bat, I stepped away from the fallen tree. 

"Lauren, where are you going?" Cecile hissed.

"Stay here, against the tree. I'm going to see if I can find her," I whispered back.

"Something's out there. Don't you dare go," she pleaded.

Kali's whimpers began again, and I could hear something dragging through the dead leaves and needles. I caught Cecile's eyes in the moonlight. They were wide with terror. She closed her eyes and turned her head as another heart wrenching cry came from the woods. 

"Go," she cried out, holding the branch close to her chest.

Stepping farther out in the clearing, I listened carefully and heard scrabbling coming from ahead of me, across the clearing, in the woods. Carefully I made my way towards the sounds, intent on moving quietly. I was washed in a cold sweat and I had to reposition my hands on the branch in order not to lose it. My fists closed reflexively around the rough wood, my fingers cramping from the pressure I exerted. 

At the edge of the clearing I stopped. The sounds had stopped and all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart. I forced myself to take a deep calming breath, and chancing a look over my shoulder, tried to catch a glimpse of Cecile. In the dark I could make out a darker form against the ground that I thought was the log we had been leaning against. And then a shadow moved against it. My eyes widened and my heart stopped its rapid beating as my world seemed to stop. Then I could make out the shadow and saw that it held a long stout branch like my own. My breath released and my heart began to pound again and I turned back to peer into the trees. 

The woods before me were dark. Some moonlight broke through the canopy of leaves, but the limbs and branches obscured its rays and cast ominous shadows across the forest floor. I stepped into the pressing dark, my branch held ready and my ears straining to hear even the slightest sound or disturbance. I was as careful as I could be in placing my feet slowly and carefully, in order not to trip over or break any branches and give my presence away. The dry leaves crunched slightly under my feet, making me wince with every step.

I continued to make my way into the trees, casting my eyes about to see if I could discern any movement in the darkness. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something shifting and I spun to face it. I stood still on the forest floor; my feet planted firmly on the ground and brandished my makeshift weapon. When a branch moved in the gentle breeze, causing the shadows to shift, I realized my folly and loosening my grip on the broken limb, I let out a shaky breath.

The night was shattered by a scream. My heart clenched and I raced back towards the clearing, abandoning my search for Kali. Breaking from the trees, I ran full tilt across the clearing, tripping across the blanket, my branch flying from my hands before I hit the ground. Pushing myself up on my abraded palms, I grabbed the limb and stumbling the last few feet towards the fallen tree where I had left Cecile. 

I heard her sobs floating towards me, and she was crooning something in French.

"Cecile?" I gasped, falling to my knees in front of her shadowy form. 

She looked up at me, tears tumbling down her face. 

"Kali," she sobbed and my gaze followed hers down to the heap that sprawled across her lap. 

Kali was cradled in her arms, her breath coming in shallow wheezy pants. A rich coppery smell filled the air, tainted by something rancid. 

"She crawled out of the woods," she wept. "She was dragging herself by her front legs. She didn't make a sound." 

I reached out, my hand recoiling when it met fur, wet and matted with something thick and sticky. Blinking back my own tears, I reached out again, placing my hand on Kali's head. Above my hand, there was a jagged tear, oozing blood. I realized that her ear was gone, torn off by something in the woods. At my touch, Kali's eye rolled towards me, through the glaze of pain I could see a glimmer of recognition and I heard a faint thump thump. My tears erupted as I realized she was wagging her tail.

"Shhh, Kali, everything's going to be okay," I whispered, lowering my head to rest against her nose. I moved to scratch beneath her chin and found a wound torn into her throat, gore and tissue spilling out into the darkness. I could see, in the dim light of the clearing, a pool of blood, black against the ground. The amount of it scared me. Sobbing, I used my hands and eyes to examine the damage: four long, gaping holes had opened her chest and belly, the flesh torn and hanging in tatters, her flanks and back were riddled with gashes and her hind legs were twisted into unnatural angles. 

"What the hell is out there?" Cecile demanded hysterically. 

"I don't know," I sobbed, shaking my head. "I don't know..."

"There's something out there, Lauren," she cried. "Look what it did to Kali!"

"I'll go get the blanket; we can use it to carry her." 

"Lauren..."

I jumped up and ran back to the middle of the clearing, grabbing the thin material. I ran back to Cecile at the fallen tree and laid the blanket out beside her, stretching the corners out and smoothing the wrinkles. 

"Okay, I'll take her front and you take her back and we'll move her onto the blanket." I tucked my hands beneath Kali's head and shoulders, gently moving my arms under her to take the weight.

"Lauren ...It's too late."

I knelt with my hands under Kali, trying to absorb what Cecile was saying. Disbelief washed over me, but I realized that I couldn't hear or feel her laboured breathing and there was no soft thumping of her heart. My tears fell and I moved my arms around to hug Kali, ignoring the blood and gore that stuck to my chest and face. Her soft brown eyes were empty, vacant.

I moved her off Cecile's lap and placed the blanket over her, then sank down beside her. We held onto one another, rocking back and forth as we cried for Kali. 

***

We huddled against the fallen tree, trying to figure out what do next, our whispers shrill in the preternaturally quiet clearing.

"If we stay here, we'll have a better chance of seeing whatever is coming and maybe we can fight it off," I argued.

"But if we start through the woods, we might find the right paths or the highway. I can still hear the traffic, it has to be close," Cecile reasoned. 

"It always sounds close, no matter where we are. It's like audible illusions or something. Besides, we spent hours on the paths today and we kept ending up here. Something fucked is happening. "

"We can't just sit here. We have to do something."

"I don't think running out into the woods with some rabid bear or cougar is a good idea."

We reached an impasse and there was no way that either of us was going to back down. I glowered at her, and tried to explain once again how dark it was in the woods and that the keychain light wasn't going to get us very far. 

"Fine," Cecile decided, standing up and reaching for one of the broken limbs. "I'm going. I can't sit here and wait for that thing to come after us."

"You can't go alone," I hissed. 

"Well, if you're not coming with me, then I guess I am."

Cecile turned from me, taking a step into the clearing when a thunderous growl erupted from behind us. Cecile spun back, her eyes wide and her mouth pulled back in a scream. I felt a whoosh of fetid air rush over my head and Cecile was gone. Stunned, I sat against the fallen tree, trying to rationalize the massive dark shape that leapt across the log, and catching Cecile on her shoulder and hair, dragging her behind as its powerful haunches propelled it across the clearing. 

Cecile's scream broke my paralysis and I scrambled to my feet. Racing across the clearing, I followed the creature's path, listening to sounds of crashing through the undergrowth and to Cecile's cries. I burst through the tree line, and plunged headlong into the woods, running on instinct and hope. I tripped and fell over deadfalls and roots, scrambling on hands and knees until I regained my footing. Cecile's cries sounded closer. I managed a burst of speed born of desperation as I followed her voice, paying no attention to where I was going, only who I was going towards. 

I fell onto my knees as I emerged into another, smaller clearing. Before me, I could see Cecile, lying on the ground, flailing at her attacker. Its hulking body was bent and twisted, its shoulders and arms were broad, and it stood on two feet. When it raised its arm to crash down on Cecile, I caught a glimpse of claws - sharp and deadly, already wet with blood. 

I dug my hands into the leaves that covered the ground in front of me, looking for something, anything that I could use as a weapon. I found some stones by one knee and began throwing them at the beast, desperate to distract it. The small rocks bounced harmlessly off its back, but it swung its head towards me, pinning me with its baleful yellow eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cecile roll away. 

I pushed myself to my feet, hefting a stick in one hand; I took a deep breath and prepared to throw it. The beast growled and began to move towards me. From behind the creature, Cecile roared and charged; something in her hands. My eyes widened in recognition of the bone that Kali had brought to the clearing.

I heard a sickening squelch as the jagged end of the bone made contact with the creature's side, ripping into the flesh. The beast stumbled forward, bellowing in rage and pain as its arms reached back to where the bone protruded from its hide. Back pedalling, Cecile released the bone and raced to me. Grabbing her hand, I spun and we began running through the woods, away from the creature. Enraged roars erupted from behind us and we kept running, pulling one another as we stumbled over underbrush and roots. 

***

Unable to take another step, I collapsed, my chest was heaving and my muscles were seized in cramps. Cecile pulled, begging me to get up, but all I could do was gasp. She fell to her knees beside me, her breathing laboured. We could still hear the creature raging, the noise filling the woods.

"What ... the ... fuck," I gasped. "That was no ... bear."

Cecile's shoulder was torn open by the creature as it had run through the woods, dragging her behind it. Blood oozed from the wound and I pulled off my sweater to try to use it as some kind of bandage. I fussed, trying to stem the flow and tie off the sweater but I couldn't seem to make my hands work properly. As I tried to tie the sleeves around her armpit, I noticed the rake of claw marks across her sweater. Blood oozed from the deep and gaping holes. Her sweater was soaked with blood and gore, the flesh beneath torn to the bone. I raised my fingers to her chin and saw the pain and exhaustion etched in her face. I began to sob uncontrollably. 

"Lauren," she whispered into my ear. "You need to get out of here."

"We need to get out of here."

"No, Cherie. I won't be able to stand up again, let alone run. You've got a chance. Go."

"No, not without you." I felt anger start to well up. 

"Lauren, Cherie, I love you. I will always love you. But if you don't stop being so stubborn, I'll never forgive you."

"C'mon," I cried, standing up and pulling on her hand. "Let's go, we have to keep moving." She pulled back and forced me back down to my knees. Angry and defiant I stared back into her eyes only to find myself tumbling into their clear blue depths, past the pain, fear and desperation that shone on the surface. I clutched her hands in mine, drowning in the terror of losing her. The sounds of our ragged breathing faded and the thin and wild beating of my heart slowed and strengthened. All that I needed and all that I wanted was here surrounding me, enveloping me in warmth. I found the eye of the storm and in the calm I reached out to her, unable to say the words out loud. 

I felt her head crack into mine as her legs were pulled out from under her from behind. 

"Lauren!" she screamed, her hands still grasping mine as she was pulled back into the woods. My hands tightened around hers and I tried to pull her back. She jerked in my grip and I fell forward, dizzy and unbalanced. I felt myself being dragged and bumped along the forest floor, desperately clutching onto Cecile's hands. Cecile's screams filled my ears and I felt my grip loosening. 

"Run!" she sobbed and she released my hands and I ground to a halt. I scrambled to my feet and ran after her, crying out her name.

Racing blindly through the trees, I collided with something warm and solid. I bounced of it and landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me. Raising my head I saw the creature turn back to Cecile, the bone jutting from its side, dark blood staining the wound. 

With a scream of rage, I launched myself towards it only to have it turn and knock me back with a powerful blow. 

Dazed, I flew through the air. Then all went dark. 

***

I woke in the pre-dawn, sprawled on the ground, aching and confused. Struggling, I managed to sit up. My side was caked with blood and the dull pounding pain sharpened with every movement I made. My head throbbed and I was unable to focus as I collapsed onto the soft carpeting of pine needles, trying to understand what had happened. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, but no thoughts came to me.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. I stared at the pine needles, tracing the patterns and swirls made by the dried blood that splattered the ground. I moved my gaze, absorbing the sights and sounds that pounded into my brain. Something lay a few yards in front of me. I stared for a long time. 

Images shot through my head; glimpses of flesh and bone, twisted and gnawed, something dark pooled beneath. A flash of something familiar. Something that I should know. Something I could not fathom.

Shutting my eyes, I willed it away. Behind tightly closed lids, I could see the line of cheekbone, traced by my fingers as I made my way to those soft lips, so often curled in a smile. Eyes, crinkled in laughter, shone, filling me with warmth as I lay with my own tightly closed, curled on the dead leaves and pine needles of the forest floor. 

My eyes crept open and images and memories began to coalesce. I stared once again at what lay beyond me, my eyes focusing and my mind sharpening as realizations came to light. Searching for something recognizable, I was captured by their clear blue depths, but as I tumbled, there was nothing left in them to catch me. Everything dissolved as my tears began falling. 

***

Like a veil being lifted, the sky continued to lighten and the path became easier to make out as I stumbled along. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to choke down my tears. "I can still hear traffic; I can't be that far off track." I opened my eyes and took the left fork.