Early the next morning, Jamie reached out and tucked her arm around Ryan’s waist. "Are you sneaking out of bed this early?"

"Yeah. I’ve uhm … got to go to a … meeting."

"What?" The blonde sat up and switched on the bedside light, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. "What meeting do you have at this time of the day?"

"Uhm … Amanda wants me to go to a … group … or something, I guess." Ryan slid out of bed, gazing down at her partner with an unreadable expression on her face.

Seeing the hesitancy and unease on Ryan’s face, Jamie gentled her expression and said, "It’s okay, honey, you don’t have to tell me about it if you’d rather not. I know you like to keep things between you and Amanda."

"No … it’s not that … it’s … well, I’m nervous about it."

"Do you want me to go with you? Drive you there?"

"That’s sweet," Ryan said, her expression softening into a smile. "But, I think I have to do this for myself. I uhm … might want to talk about it — but I might not, okay?"

"Okay," Jamie said. "You’re entitled to your privacy."

"Thank you," Ryan said, sitting down on the bed and stroking Jamie’s cheek. "That means a lot to me."

The blonde turned her head to kiss Ryan’s palm. "I know," she said quietly. Giving her partner a hug, she asked, "Want me to make you breakfast?"

"Thanks, but I don’t think so. My tummy’s a little upset, and I don’t feel like eating. I’ll stop and get a latte on the way."

Jamie put a hand on her lover’s bare shoulder and gazed into her eyes for a moment. "Baby, whatever comes up today, I’m sure you can handle it. No matter what life throws at you from now on — you’ve been through worse." Her face eased into a smile, and Ryan returned it immediately.

"You have a good point there, partner. Talking about the carjacking can never be as frightening as that night was." She kissed Jamie soundly, and said, "Thanks for reminding me of that."

"All part of the job description," the smaller woman said. "I’m merely trying to suck up to my supervisor."

* * * * * * * * * * *

At five minutes to 7, Ryan paced up and down the sidewalk in front of a small office building in downtown Oakland. She held a large latte in her hands to warm them, desperately wishing she’d worn gloves. A middle-aged woman approached and asked, "Are you Ryan, by any chance?"

"Yeah, I am." Extending her hand, she said, "Ryan O’Flaherty. Are you Doctor Moss?"

"Yes, but feel free to call me Ellen. Everyone in the group does. Come on in and let me introduce you."

Swallowing nervously, Ryan followed her in, and made eye contact with the 4 other women she’d seen enter the building while she waited. Ellen opened the door to the office and the group filed in, with the others chatting companionably. Ryan shrugged out of her down vest, then took off her ski cap and muffler. She noted that a few of the other women gave her puzzled looks for wearing shorts on such a cold morning, but the brunette was very glad she had done so when the room started to heat up past her comfort level.

"Okay," Ellen said, "it looks like everyone brought coffee this morning, so I won’t make my usual offer. We have a new member of the group that I’d like to introduce. This is Ryan," Ellen said, smiling at the newcomer. "To give you a little time to acclimate, we normally go around the room and introduce ourselves when we have a new member. So, why don’t we do that? Helen, would you mind starting? just say who you are, and what brought you to the group."

A cheerful looking, middle-aged woman smiled at Ryan and said, "I’m Helen, and I’ve been with the group for almost two years. My husband, God rest his soul, had been embezzling from his company. Things had been going poorly for Stan for a couple of years, and he was sure he was going to be fired. I’ll never know what caused him to do what he did, and I’ll never know why he didn’t trust me enough to tell me how frightened he was." She took a deep breath, and gave Ryan a sad smile. "But, he didn’t. When he was found out, he hanged himself in our home. We lost our house and our car; and I had to find a job to care for our teen-aged children." She looked into Ryan’s eyes, as though she could see the dark places in her soul, and said, "This group has saved my life."

Ryan nodded, feeling her stomach start to churn from hearing Helen’s tale. The woman next to Helen then spoke. "Hi, I’m Pamela. I’ve been with the group for about 6 months now. I was …" She looked out the window for a moment, took a deep breath, then looked up and continued. "I was raped and severely beaten by my ex-husband. I’d recently gotten into a relationship with a man I liked, but Jerry couldn’t stand to have me move on with my life." Ryan looked at the angry red scar that ran from Pamela’s eye to the base of her ear. "I really like the group — but it’s … hard … it’s hard to come here and talk about it. I know it’s something that I need to do, and I know it will help me, but it’s still hard to get to sleep on Sunday and Wednesday nights."

Nodding even more dramatically, Ryan tried to unclench her hands from the arms of her chair, feeling her muscles contract painfully.

The next woman said, "I’m Arlene, and I’m about to leave the group. I’ve been here for a little over a year, and I think I’m ready to graduate." Her comment drew nods and smiles from the others, and she continued, "I was in a very bad auto accident. The driver of the car that hit me was killed, and I was badly injured. But I’m nearly healed physically, and I’m feeling pretty good mentally, too."

"That’s good to hear," Ryan said, smiling nervously.

The woman next to Arlene shifted in her seat, looking tense and unsettled. "I’m Barb, and I’ve been coming here for two months." She looked around the room, her gaze brushing the top of each head, but never meeting anyone’s eyes. "I am … or I was … a police officer. I’m on disability, but I don’t think I’m going to go back." She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I change my mind about that every other day, so maybe I should keep my opinion to myself." She gave a stilted laugh, then took a breath and studied the carpet for a moment, then said, "I shot … and killed … my partner during a robbery. The review board declared that I wasn’t negligent in Phil’s death … but, I’m not the review board."

The room was completely quiet, so quiet that Ryan could hear her own heart beating. Her anxiety increasing by the moment, she was about to grab her jacket and run, but Barb’s voice pulled her back from the brink. "I hate coming here, but it’s helping. It really is." Ryan met her eyes, and could tell that the older woman could see the fear and anxiety that poured from her. "Hang in there, Ryan. We all help each other here."

Biting her lip, Ryan tried to twitch her face into a smile, but it didn’t come off very well. "I’ll try," she said. Knowing it was her turn, Ryan looked at Ellen, hoping for a reprieve, but the psychologist merely nodded encouragingly, so Ryan took a big breath and told her tale, in a very abbreviated form. "My lover, my niece and I were carjacked. All of us made it out alive, but I made some choices that night that still haunt me. I’d … I’d like to get past my guilt. I’ve also had a few people betray me — mostly to get money from the tabloids, and I’d like to get a better handle on my anger." She took a nervous breath and said, "I know I should be grateful that we’re all alright, but some dark urges keep pulling at me." Unable to think of another thing to say, Ryan looked at Ellen, hoping to be rescued.

Smiling warmly, Ellen said, "We all welcome you, Ryan. Now, this might surprise you after hearing the stories, but everyone in this room has experienced some level of guilt and anger over what happened to them. Every one of us has a different story, but there is some part of your experience that each of us can empathize with. I think you’ll find that this is a safe, caring place to talk about what’s troubling you. I only ask that everything we say here stay in this room. The only way we can trust each other is if we keep each other’s confidences."

"I understand that," Ryan said. "I’ve had a little experience with having my privacy invaded, so I’m hypersensitive to that."

Ellen smiled at her and said, "Well, after that glaring understatement, let’s begin. We normally spend about 10 minutes each, checking in and talking about anything that’s come up in the last few days. Helen? I think it’s your turn to check in first."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan hadn’t been out of the session for five minutes when her phone rang. "Guess who loves you?" a warm, cheerful voice asked.

A big smile covered Ryan’s face as she replied, "An adorable, sweet, kind woman loves me. I never have to guess."

"Good answer," Jamie said. "How ya doin’, buddy?"

"I’m all right. A little shaky, but all right. I can’t talk about the group, because I promised to keep everything confidential, but I think there’s a chance this might help me. Hearing these other women talk about their struggles put some of mine into perspective."

"So, you’re okay? Need me to hang around for a few minutes to hug you?"

"Do you have time?"

"I’ll make time for you. Are you coming home?"

"For one of your hugs? No question. I’ll be home in 10, then we can walk to school together."

"Hurry home, baby. I love you."

"I know that. I know it in my soul, Jamie."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jamie scampered down the stairs that evening, still shoving things in her open duffel bag. "Are you sure you don’t want to come with us tonight, Mia?" she called down to her roommate, who was sitting in the living room.

"Nah. I have to go to class tomorrow. Besides, you two probably want to have an evening alone in Las Vegas. You can use all the togetherness that you can manage."

"We haven’t really been apart all that much, since I’ve been going on road trips with my sweetie. I feel like her groupie."

"Let’s go!" Ryan poked her head in the front door, pointedly glaring at her watch.

"Bye, Ryan," Mia said, getting up to offer a kiss and a hug.

"See you tomorrow," the taller woman said. "I’ll try to leave some money in the casinos for you to win."

"My little jackpot is a sure thing," Mia said. "As soon as I pick her up from the airport — I’m gonna get lucky!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Standing with the group of people gathered around the gate, Jamie said, "When I see your coach tomorrow, I’m going to thank him again for treating you like an adult."

"It has been nice, hasn’t it? It’s pretty cool to be able to go a day early and enjoy the sights."

"Are you excited about seeing the Cirque de Soleil show?"

"Yeah," Ryan said, actually more excited about Jamie’s excitement than she was about seeing a circus act. "I haven’t been to the circus since I was a little kid. Michael took me," she said wistfully. "He, of course, had to constantly critique the clowns’ makeup, but we still had a ball."

Jamie squeezed her arm and said, "I’ve told you, sweetie, that this isn’t your typical circus."

Ryan shrugged amiably. "Whatever. If you’re excited about it, it must be good."

She wasn’t paying rapt attention, and after a moment, Jamie started to look around, trying to determine what Ryan was looking at. Backhanding her in the stomach, she hissed, "Will you quit staring at the women!"

"Oh!" Ryan turned back to her and said, "I wasn’t staring at them for the usual reason. I’m trying to figure out why they’re here. Is there a convention or something in Las Vegas this weekend?"

"I’m sure there are many conventions there," Jamie said. But as she took yet another look, she had to admit that she couldn’t guess what kind of convention the women would be attending. Young, thin, well built … very well built, actually, uniformly blonde, and dressed in a manner that could only be called … revealing; the collection of women stood around looking very bored. There were about ten of them, and they seemed to know each other, but they didn’t, for the most part, seem like friends. When Jamie turned back to say something to her partner, Ryan was gone. It took Jamie a moment to locate the tall brunette up at the check-in counter, and a few minutes later she was back.

"The attendant says we’re on the ‘call girl express’," Ryan said.

"What?"

"Every Thursday night, sex workers from here and L.A. apparently fly to Vegas for the weekend. They’re commuters, after a fashion," she said. "Wanna strike up a conversation … get some tips?"

Raising an eyebrow, Jamie regarded her partner for a moment. "Are you inferring that I need tips?"

"Makeup tips," Ryan said slowly, obviously trying to get her brain to work quickly. "I thought they could give you some tips on how to get those long fake eyelashes to stay on."

"Pitiful save," Jamie said, shaking her head. "Truly pitiful."

They boarded a few minutes later, and managed to take off nearly on time. Ryan had to stop herself from laughing at the parade of men who happened to stop by some of the working girls’ seats on their way up and down the aisle to nowhere at all. When she tired of the show, she popped the last of her peanuts in her mouth and eyed Jamie’s unopened package. One twitching eyebrow convinced the smaller woman to hand them over. "How have you avoided coming to Las Vegas?" Ryan asked.

"Mmm … I didn’t have any desire to come until I could gamble," she said. "I’m not even sure my mother has been here, as a matter of fact. She’s not much for gambling. We were in Monaco a couple of years ago, and she sat in the bar while Daddy and I blew our bankroll."

Grinning playfully Ryan mused, "Some heavy hitters in Monaco, right?"

At Jamie’s cautious nod, Ryan commented, "Must be weird, not being the richest people in the room, huh?"

"Yes, it was very traumatic," Jamie said, rolling her eyes. "Now I understand how people in developing countries feel." She slapped her partner hard on the thigh, whispering, "Brat."

They landed at McCarran Field, and after a short cab ride, were delivered to their hotel. In return for agreeing to stay with the team on Friday and Saturday, Ryan allowed Jamie to book them into any hotel she chose for Thursday. She wasn’t terribly surprised when the cab dropped them off at The Bellagio, an elegant, massive hotel, situated on a calm 7 acre lake. Having guessed that they would be staying somewhere nice, Ryan had dressed up, wearing her neatly pressed chinos, a crisp blue and white checked blouse and her marine blue crew neck sweater, one of Jamie’s favorites.

The lobby was massive, and filled with people lined up in neat queues to check in. The lighting in the room was provided by a spectacular canopy of blown glass flowers — of every type and color. As they stood under the warm lights, the smaller woman found herself lost in her partner’s bright blue eyes, made even bluer by the sweater. "These lights are beautiful," Jamie sighed, "but they pale in comparison to you."

"Excuse me," the clerk said when the previous customer departed. "Ma’am. Ma’am!"

"Oh! Sorry," she said, blushing madly while Ryan chuckled. "I wasn’t paying attention."

"You were paying attention," Ryan whispered into her ear after Jamie had handed the clerk her credit card and he stepped away. "You were paying attention to me — and that’s exactly how I like it."

Pressing her finger against the shirt button that peeked out of Ryan’s sweater, Jamie let it slip into the placket and reach in to tickle the soft skin. "Ahem. Ma’am?" the clerk asked as the flush grew once again.

"Yes?"

"I can upgrade you to a suite with a spa tub for a $50 additional charge. Would you be interested in the upgrade?"

"Uhm … sure," she said, still looking at the magnificent color of Ryan’s eyes.

The clerk scampered away again, and Ryan whispered, "You can’t catch a break. He’s gonna think you’re one sexually frustrated woman."

"I am," Jamie said, grinning wickedly. "I’m intensely sexually frustrated. Don’t you think it’s time to satisfy me?" As if on cue, the clerk returned, and his expression made it clear that he’d heard every word.

She looked at him, shrugged her shoulders and twitched her head in Ryan’s direction. "Do you blame me?"

"Not in the least, Ma’am," he said, smiling primly. "I hope that all of your needs are completely satisfied this weekend."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Well, that was the first time in my life that a check-in clerk said he hoped I got lucky during my stay," Jamie said, rolling her eyes at Ryan on the way up in the elevator.

"It’s happened to me a time or two," Ryan recalled, "but never in a place that didn’t charge by the hour."

"Such a life you’ve led," Jamie said, grinning at her randy partner.

Ryan’s ego had been thoroughly stroked by the interactions with the desk clerk, and she was ready to spend the better part of the evening fulfilling Jamie’s stated wish. Her hands were already probing some sensitive spots as the otherwise empty elevator whisked them to their floor, but the smaller woman had other plans. "You’d better calm down, hot stuff. The show’s at eight, and we’ve got to get going if we’re going to have time for dinner."

Glancing at her watch, Ryan said, "It’s only six. Can’t we go to one of those $4.99 buffets I keep seeing signs for? That shouldn’t take long."

"I assume you’re kidding," she scoffed. Tossing her head she declared, "It doesn’t matter if you are or not — because we are never — I repeat — never — going to have dinner at a $4.99 buffet."

"You’re no fun," Ryan pouted dramatically.

Jamie stood on her tiptoes and kissed her extended lower lip. "I’m plenty of fun, and you know it, tiger. When we get back to the room I’ll remind you of exactly how much fun I can be."

The bellman with their luggage was waiting for them when they exited the elevator, and Ryan gave him a puzzled look. "We have a separate set of elevators for luggage," he explained. "Let me show you to your room."

The room was absolutely gorgeous. Sumptuous, yet understated by Las Vegas standards, it reminded Jamie of a 4-star hotel in Rome or Milan — with 21^st century amenities. They passed through the marble foyer into a large sitting room, with a small dining area off to the side. "Let me show you some of the room’s features," the bellman said. His short tour took only a few minutes, and Jamie left Ryan to push all of the buttons and investigate the room while she called the concierge desk to arrange for dinner. After a short discussion, she called out to Ryan, "Honey? Can I have some input here?"

"Yep." Ryan dashed out of the bath and leapt onto the sofa, causing Jamie to juggle the phone to keep it from falling to the floor.

"Brat!" she whispered. "We have a few choices for dinner. We can go French, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, or American."

"Doesn’t matter to me. Your choice."

Picking up the phone again, Jamie said, "I think we’d like to dine at Le Cirque. I assume it wouldn’t be difficult to be seated now, would it?" She nodded her head and said, "Yes, we’re ready. That’s great. Thanks a lot."

Hanging up, the blonde stood and extended her hand. "We’re on, babe. Let’s chow down."

"Can I go like this?" Ryan asked.

"Well, I wouldn’t think of going to Le Cirque in New York dressed this casually, but this is Las Vegas. I think we’ll be fine."

"You look great," Ryan said, eyeing her partner. "But, then, you always do." She put her hand on the shoulder of the simple but elegant-looking, vivid blue, linen shift that Jamie was wearing, smiling gently at her partner. "You look fantastic, honey. Are you sure I’m okay?"

"You look adorable, Ryan. Really." Standing on her toes, Jamie gave her partner a few, quick kisses. "You look so comfortable in your skin that I don’t think people notice what you have on. You command attention, no matter what you’re wearing."

Ryan shrugged and said, "It’s because I’m so tall. When you’re taller than 99% of all women, people always look at you."

"Yeah, that’s probably it," Jamie agreed, not believing it for a minute.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As Jamie had expected, the restaurant was nearly empty at the early hour, having opened only a half hour before. The maitre d’hôtel was very accommodating, seating them at a table right next to the window, where they could overlook the lake. The restaurant was decorated in a whimsical fashion, with a multicolored recreation of a circus big top dominating the entire ceiling of the smallish room. "This place is beautiful," Ryan said, craning her neck to see everything. "I’m guessing that Le Cirque means the circus?"

"Good girl," Jamie said, nodding. "That semester of French is paying off."

Chuckling, Ryan said, "I’ve barely figured out what le means. Good think I’m not fixated on grades, ‘cause I might get my first ‘C’ this term."

"Wow. Your first ‘C’ in college, huh?"

Ryan’s dark head shook, and she took a drink of water, continuing to look around the room.

"High school?" Jamie tried.

Another shake of the head.

"Oh, please! You’ve never had a ‘C’?"

"Nope. It won’t kill me if I get one, though. I’m not going to let little things like that bother me any more."

"Hey, I thought your grades went down when you were a senior in high school. Are you not counting that?"

"No, I’m counting that. I got two ‘B’s’ and two incompletes my first semester. Those were my first ‘B’s," she said, shrugging sheepishly.

"I hope to God that our kids get your brains," Jamie said, chuckling softly.

"Well, the ones that I have might, but you’re rolling the dice if you use my brothers or my cousins. Donal and Declan barely got through high school, and Padraig is dyslexic. He had a hell of a time in school. Conor’s bright, but he was no scholar. Come to think of it, Brendan’s the only one who had any desire to go to college. The boyos were glad to be done with it after high school. I’m an anomaly for the O’Flahertys. The Ryans are the ones with the book-smarts. Maybe we should consider my cousin Cormac."

Jamie’s lower lip stuck out. "He doesn’t look like you. Remember, my main goal is to have a carbon copy of your sweet little face."

"Then, you’d better stick with Brendan. He at least likes to read. I don’t think the lads have opened a book since high school, unless you consider Playboy and Penthouse a book."

"I don’t," Jamie said, smiling sweetly. "And you’d better not, either."

"I’m completely unfamiliar with the genre," Ryan said, boldly lying. "I prefer Scientific American."

* * * * * * * * * * *

When their server arrived, Ryan, as usual, left the ordering to Jamie. The blonde chose a 5-course tasting menu; accompanied by 5 wines chosen for their compatibility. The pair was happily consuming a delightful cream of watercress soup when something caught Jamie’s eye. Signaling for their server, she asked, "Could you possibly open this door?"

"Of course, Ma’am." The man pushed the drapes aside, letting Ryan see what had captivated her partner. As the door opened, they were delighted to see a massive, synchronized, water show from the normally hidden fountains of the lake. There must have been a thousand of the huge streams of water; some going so high that Ryan supposed they must be forced from fire hoses. As the streams of water danced against the night sky, powerful speakers broadcast Frank Sinatra singing Luck Be A Lady, Tonight.

"Not too cool," Ryan said, smiling warmly at her partner. "Of course, my lady always brings me luck."

Reaching across the table, Jamie grasped her lover’s hand and gave her a somewhat shy smile. "Are you having fun, sweetheart?"

"I am," Ryan agreed. "And I’m very glad that we didn’t go for the $4.99 buffet. The meal is fantastic, Jamie, and I’m happy that you didn’t let my cheapness carry the day."

"You’re not cheap," Jamie said. "You’re careful … and that’s not a vice. It’s just that we don’t go out very often, and when we do, I like to make it memorable."

"I’m certain this will be a very memorable weekend. Being with you for 4 days will assure that."

"Such a romantic little Irish heart you have."

"I don’t have it any longer," Ryan said, her eyes sparkling in the reflected light of the fountains. "I gave it to you."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Just as Jamie had predicted, Ryan was in thrall during the entire performance of "O." The Cirque de Soleil had constructed a theatre at The Bellagio expressly for the elaborate water-themed show, and they had done a masterful job. Every seat had excellent sightlines, the music was perfectly suited to the theme, and the performances flawless. At the end, Ryan turned to her partner, and said, "There’s an eleven o’clock show. Can we go again?"

Jamie would have moved mountains to satisfy the hopeful expression on her lover’s face. But she had already had to move a mountain of greenbacks into a ticket broker’s pocket to secure the tickets to this performance, and she knew that Ryan would have a fit if she learned how much the tickets had cost. "They’re sold out," she said. "I can try to see if there’s a ticket broker …"

"No, no, that’s okay," Ryan said, looking like Jamie had suggested armed robbery. "It’s better to leave wanting more."

"If you’re sure …"

"Positive. Let’s hit the blackjack tables and let me win back what this evening cost us."

You’d better be one very, very lucky woman, Jamie thought to herself.

Ryan was a very lucky woman, and after playing for two hours, she had recouped over half of what they’d spent so far. Jamie didn’t let on, however, praising her abilities lavishly. "Your cousins think you cheat," Jamie teased when they were outside watching yet another performance of the fountains.

"Do not! They think I cheat because I have such a good memory." Her lips curled into a grin, adding, "Those boys are some of the worst card players you’ll ever find. I was born into the perfect family. They think they’re great, and they can’t back down from a challenge — but they suck! Absolutely perfect," she said, humming with satisfaction.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The soft click of the door woke Jamie the next morning, and she pushed her hair from her eyes to witness her grinning partner trying to sneak into the room. "Where have you been?"

Eyes wide with delight, Ryan ran over to the bed and dumped two huge plastic cups filled with quarters onto Jamie’s startled body. "I won a jackpot playing video poker! A great, big, fat royal flush. 2,500 quarters!"

"Ryan!" Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 6:30, and she was none too happy to have been woken by having a few pounds of dirty metal thrown onto her. "Why do you run out on me like that?" she asked grumpily. "I don’t like to wake up and not know where you are."

"I left two notes," the brunette muttered, a little pout forming.

"Can’t you stay in bed like normal people? The dawn can come without your help, ya know."

"I’m here now." The grin that won her heart began to form, and Jamie felt her own lips respond in kind. "I’d love to stay in bed and cuddle you until I have to go to the game. Isn’t it better to be in this nice, soft bed when we’re both awake?"

Jamie’s bad mood began to lift. She glanced at her watch and asked, "How long do we have?"

"Four and a half hours," Ryan said. "But I should get a bite to eat before I go."

"Oh, I’ll give you a bite," Jamie purred, drawing her partner down on top of her coin-covered body. "I’ll give you a bite to remember!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

The pair enjoyed one of the best mornings that either could recall. A large helping of each other, a long, playful shower in the sumptuous bath, and a delightful dim sum brunch in the hotel’s Chinese restaurant.

With great regret, Ryan exited the cab at the softball complex, with Jamie promising to return after she’d checked into the team motel. The blonde liked to watch the games, but watching warm-ups, batting practice and two seven-inning games while sitting on a backless bleacher was a little much — even for her.

After she got settled into their small, utilitarian room at the team motel, she flipped on the TV to while away an hour. The bed was firm, and the room was overly warm, but neither fact stopped her from falling asleep almost immediately. She woke slowly some time later, her neck stiff from the odd angle she’d been in. Stretching languidly, she looked at her watch and nearly jumped out of bed. "Two o’clock!"

Jumping into her shoes, she grabbed her backpack and ran for the lobby, only to have to wait twenty minutes for a cab. By the time she reached the field, the first game was in the top of the seventh, and she was almost relieved that Ryan was sitting on the bench, still in her warm-up jacket. At least I didn’t miss seeing her play, she thought in relief. I never would have heard the end of it.

The game was over in moments, and she waited patiently by the entrance to the locker rooms. Ryan might not have even noticed that I didn’t come on time, she mused. I don’t think she can see all of the stands from the dugout. The players started straggling out of the locker room, all of them giving her a friendly hello and a wave. Heather came out, obviously looking for her. "She’s okay, Jamie. It looks worse than it is."

Jamie’s eyes grew wide as her lover came limping out of the locker room, a massive ice bag secured to her knee, another to her elbow. Ryan’s face was a stoic mask of nonchalance, but Jamie ran to her, grasping her frantically. "Honey! Are you all right?"

"Hell, no, I’m not all right!" she said, wincing in pain. "Would you be all right if that had happened to you?"

"Well …" She started to say that she hadn’t seen what had happened, but she didn’t have the nerve to admit it at the moment.

"Have you ever seen such a collision? Jesus, it’s a wonder that I wasn’t carted away in an ambulance!" Ryan was shaking her head, grumbling to herself the entire time. "I guess you’re going to want me to go to the hospital, huh?"

"Didn’t a doctor look at you?"

"Nah. No doctor was available. I’ll probably be okay," she said, not looking very convinced. "I’m still a little woozy, but the double vision’s about gone."

Just then Coach Roberts came out of the men’s locker room, took one look at Ryan and asked, "What the hell’s wrong with you?"

"Nothin’," she said. "Only injury I might get is splinters from sitting on the bench."

"I’ll give you a splinter," he grumbled, cuffing her affectionately. "I thought maybe you’d sprained your arm playing the slots last night."

"Nah … I’m all about poker and blackjack."

"Doesn’t surprise me a bit, O’Flaherty. Go get those ice bags off and warm up. You might get off your butt for a change in the second game."

"Cool!" she cried, turning to share a smile with Jamie. She winced noticeably when she saw the cold fury in the jade green eyes. "Uhm … I was playing a practical joke on you. Funny, wasn’t it?"

Jamie didn’t say a word, but she took off after her, chasing her lover all around the field; nearly catching her several times since the ice bag on her knee slowed Ryan down. "You’re gonna need those ice bags when I’m done with you!" she cried.

"Can’t you take a joke?" Ryan gasped, leaping over a low bench.

"Yeah, I can take a joke," she panted. "Now we’re gonna see how well you can take one."

"What are you gonna do?" Ryan asked, eyes wide.

"Be ready, O’Flaherty. That’s all I’m gonna say. Be ready."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan did indeed get the nod to start the second game, taking over for Jackie, who needed a rest after the heat of the Las Vegas sun proved to be too much for her. Ryan looked so darned cute with her cap pulled low over her eyes that Jamie couldn’t bear to be angry with her — even though she would have been well justified. Right before the game started, she called her over to the fence and handed her the little present she had been carrying ever since the start of the season. "I’ve been saving this for the first game you started," she said, pushing the package of ‘Big League Chew’ through a link of the fence.

Ryan smiled broadly and opened the foil packet. She took out a huge wad of the shredded bubble gum and stuck it in her mouth, chewing noisily until she got it down to a manageable size. "Thanks," she said, her expression bordering on a leer. "Hey, you busy after the game? I’ve got a single room." Merrily dancing eyebrows indicated that she didn’t expect to be alone in the room for long, and Jamie played along.

"It depends on how you play. I’m a Cal groupie, you know. I’m going home with the star of the game," she said. "If that’s you — fine. If not — that’s fine, too." With that, she tossed her head and went to her seat, turning before she sat down to confirm that Ryan was, as usual, staring at her ass. Giving it a little twitch, she sat and waved her off. "Play well," she drawled.

To prove her star status, Ryan ran out to first base full-tilt, performing a flawless flip right before she reached the bag. Jamie heard Coach Roberts yell, "For Christ’s sake, O’Flaherty!" and she knew he too had seen the extemporaneous performance.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Luckily for Ryan, she was the star of the game, thanks to a single in the sixth inning, which knocked in the winning run. She was filthy, as expected, having slid into second base, and Jamie was surprised to see yet another ice bag when the brunette emerged from the locker room, Heather in tow. Jamie grabbed the younger woman by the arm and pulled her close. "An accessory after the fact still goes to jail, kiddo." Heather looked at her with wide eyes, but Jamie slapped her on the seat and said, "I know — she’s impossible to say no to."

"She really is, Jamie," Heather insisted. "I don’t know how you ever do it."

She smiled and said, "I don’t very often. She has an odd, but effective, charm."

"Hey!" Ryan scowled. "Who you calling odd?"

"Shoe fits — wear it," Jamie tossed back. "Now what’s with the ice?" Ryan’s makeshift ice bag was a zip-lock plastic bag, taped to her knee with a strip of what looked like clear plastic wrap.

"No biggie. When I slid into second, I banged it a little. It’s not even swollen, but the trainer looooooves to make us look goofy."

"Not a long trip when you’re involved," Jamie said. "Bus or cab?"

"Bus. The way I look, I don’t think I could get a cab to stop."

Jamie took a long look at the sweaty, bedraggled looking woman and shook her head. "You’ve got a point there, sport. Thankfully, Heather is still fresh as a daisy. I think I’ll sit with her." She grabbed the young woman’s arm and led her to the bus, sparing a teasing wink at her smirking partner.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as Ryan was clean, she lay down on the bed and stretched out. "Time for a nap?"

"Yeah, I think so. Jordan’s flight comes in at seven, and Mia’s is due right around then, too. I told them we’d be in the casino at Mandalay Bay, since it’s close to the airport — and that you’d probably be playing poker."

"No probably about it," Ryan said. "You gonna nap with me?"

"I had a pretty good one earlier in the day," she reminded her. "I fell asleep sitting up watching Oprah!"

"Come snuggle for a minute, then," Ryan said, giving a hopeful look. "You can watch TV or read, once I’m out."

"Love to." Taking one of her textbooks, she lay down on the bed next to her always-cuddly partner and smiled when Ryan soon had her pinned firmly to the mattress. The larger woman was asleep in seconds, and Jamie knew that her study plans would go unrealized. She could run a sleep clinic for insomniacs, she mused before she nodded off. Ten minutes of cuddling with her could knock anyone out.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They were waiting for a cab in front of their motel when Jamie asked, "Isn’t it kinda funny how much freedom Coach Roberts gives you guys? Not many coaches would let you all run wild in Las Vegas. You don’t even have a curfew!"

"It’s a little odd, but it’s how I’d run the team if I were in charge. Seniors don’t have a curfew, but the rest of the team does. He likes to give each class a little more freedom so he can keep an eye on them until he’s sure they can handle it. The juniors have to be in by two, the sophs by one, and the freshmen by midnight."

"Huh. But, doesn’t that preclude the freshmen going out with any of the upperclassmen?"

"Yep. That’s part of his plan," Ryan said. "He wants us to play as a team, but he doesn’t think it’s mandatory that we all hang out together. He realizes that since the seniors have the ability to go to casinos and have a drink, they’ll be resentful if they have to stay home because the younger players can’t come with. Plus, if he keeps the freshmen on a short leash, they’re less likely to get into trouble by tagging along with the older women. His style is unconventional, but it’s worked for him."

"Coach Hayes should work for him for a few years after her lame ass is fired," Jamie said.

Ryan laughed, "He wouldn’t put up with her for five minutes. I’ve never met two coaches with such different styles. You’d think she’d take a look at his consistently successful record and take a clue — but that’s not gonna happen."

"Her loss," Jamie shrugged.

"Literally," Ryan said.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jamie was playing the slots when Mia and Jordan arrived. "Hey, girlfriend!" The blonde smiled at Mia’s bubbly voice, gathered up her cup full of quarters, and went to greet her friends.

"Wow! You look fabulous, Jordan," Jamie said, staring openly at the lanky blonde.

"Free product," she said, giving Jamie a quick pirouette to show off her new clothes. "I got a suitcase full of things after that Polo ad that I did, so I brought everything with me. This is the first chance I’ve had in weeks to be out of sweats or warm-ups."

"I think I’ve only seen you dressed up at Martin and Maeve’s wedding," Jamie said, eyeing her critically. "You should get out of sweats more often."

"Can you see why Ralph Lauren wanted her?" Mia asked, letting her eyes wander up and down the long body. "The clothes were made for her."

Jamie had to admit that the items did fit Jordan perfectly. The tall woman wore a beautiful cashmere, crew-neck sweater and a pair of pleated wool slacks, both in a warm, winter white. A well-cut, navy blue blazer with the large RL crest on the pocket was draped over her shoulders, making her look more like her model-self than her athlete-self. "You’re sure not going to get carded tonight," Jamie said. "You could pass for thirty!"

"What about me?" Mia asked rather petulantly.

Jamie gave her a fond glance and said, "You and I could both pass for 20. Regrettably, we’re 21 and 22. You do look very nice, though. That suit looks great on you. You should buy one like it." Mia was wearing one of Jamie’s favorite outfits — since it was, in fact, Jamie’s. The dark emerald pants suit made of very fine velour looked marvelous on Mia, and made her look very sophisticated; but she still looked a good ten years younger than Jordan.

"I didn’t have anything that Jordy hasn’t seen before," Mia said. "You don’t mind, do you?"

"You know I don’t," Jamie said. "Besides, it looks great with your eyes. Gives them some green highlights."

"It does," Jordan sighed. "I’ve been staring at her ever since we met in the airport, and it just dawned on me that it’s because her eyes are so complex-looking tonight."

Mia squeezed her hand and said, "You can look at them all night, honey — ‘cause we’re staying up 'til dawn!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

It took a while, but they finally found the poker tables. The Mandalay Bay followed the custom of most of the Vegas casinos, and had created a separate room for the game. Blackjack, pai gow poker, Caribbean stud, three-card poker and Texas hold ‘em could be played at any one of a number of tables dispersed around the gaming floor. But, regular poker was still king, and it was treated as such by the casinos. The poker room was raised up a few steps from the casino floor, and was surrounded by a half wall. They found Ryan at a table near the back of the room, seated with 6 men and one young woman, deeply engrossed in her game. "Odd crowd," Jamie said, looking around at the players.

Mia nodded, a look of faint distaste on her face. "They look like a bunch of guys who should be pluckin’ chickens."

Jamie took another critical look and had to agree with her friend. The room contained about 20 tables, and the vast majority of them had a game going on. The average age of the players was around 65, and very few of the men had bothered to shave — that week. The players contrasted so dramatically with the younger, wealthier looking crowd that populated the rest of the casino, that she was unable to reconcile the variation.

Something about the way the room was set up made Jamie reluctant to go in and tell her partner they were there. The place was very, very quiet — also strange for a casino. Oddly, there was a no smoking sign prominently displayed; the only place Jamie had seen such a restriction. Gazing at her partner again, Jamie asked, "She looks hot, doesn’t she?"

Due to the angle of the table, they had a side view of her, and both women agreed with Jamie’s assessment. Ryan was wearing a cream-colored, heavyweight, silk blouse and her leather pants, which gleamed in the muted light of the room. Her hair was loose and draped around her shoulders, the highlights almost blue where one of the pin-spots hit her. She had a long, thin cigar in her mouth, but Jamie noticed it wasn’t lit — due to the prohibition. Rather than smoking it, she seemed to be using it as a prop of some sort. But whatever her motivation, it made her look sexy and confident — two of Jamie’s favorite attributes.

The hand was over quickly, and Ryan stood and started to put her chips in a plastic carrier. Another man stood and approached her, motioning with his head towards a small room labeled "High Stakes." Ryan’s brow furrowed and she shook her head, but the man didn’t want to take no for an answer. He gestured towards the room again, but Ryan held her ground, sticking her chin out the way she did when her mind was firmly made up. Disgusted, the man stalked away, passing by the three spectators as he did so. "Fuckin’ bitch," he grumbled to himself.

Ryan looked up as she walked away from the table, and gave her friends a beaming smile. "Wow, three of the best looking women in Las Vegas — all in one spot!" With warm hugs and kisses for Mia and Jordan, she draped her arm around Jamie and asked, "Let me take you all to dinner. The sky’s the limit." She pointedly eyed her chips, giving Jamie a wink.

"Who was the guy who was talking to you?" Jordan asked. "He was cussing you out when he left."

"Sore loser," Ryan said, looking unimpressed. "I cleaned him out, and he wanted to play for $100 a hand in the high stakes room. I never bet that much," she said, shaking her head. "You can lose your shirt in 10 minutes. Besides, if my luck held, he’d probably be betting the mortgage on his house. I hate to play with compulsive gamblers, and he had all the signs."

"How much did you win?" the blonde gaped, seeing chips of many different colors in the tray.

"Enough." Her self-satisfied smile was all Jamie was going to get out of her, and she let Ryan cash out in private — since she obviously didn’t want to share the extent of her success.

They decided on drinks at The Red Square, an opulent vodka bar and Russian restaurant at the hotel. The chic, trendy bar was filled with the beautiful people of Las Vegas, and to Ryan’s surprise, her foursome fit right in. Her burgeoning wealth and social status didn’t hit her very often, but in a setting like this, she was unable to exert her powers of denial. Face it, O’Flaherty, Jamie’s always going to be one of the beautiful people, and since you’re her spouse, you’re at least mildly attractive. She laughed softly, and Jamie caught her eye, giving her a raised eyebrow.

Leaning over, Ryan said, "I was having one of my ‘I can’t believe this is my life’ moments. It’ll pass."

Jamie leaned right back into her, saying, "I can’t believe that you’re my lover, and I hope that’s a feeling that never passes."

"Let’s skip dinner, and go make out," the brunette whispered.

"Oh, no! You’re gonna need all of your stamina tonight. I need you well fed."

"Then let’s get some food, ‘cause I’m all about goin’ home early."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jamie had been busy during Ryan’s poker game, making reservations at a lovely restaurant in the hotel. Aureole was known for both fantastic food and a very unique wine cellar. The cellar was actually a 4-story glass tower, located right in the middle of the room, and Ryan was spellbound by the display. "If I had to move to Las Vegas, that’s the job I’d have," she said, her voice filled with longing.

Jordan was imitating her stare, and she nodded her complete agreement. "Without a doubt."

Jamie and Mia exchanged aggrieved looks, each of them rolling her eyes. "Jocks," Mia said.

"Well, it is kinda cool," Jamie had to admit, but I think I’d get tired of it."

The foursome stared for a few more minutes, watching a lithe, graceful woman glide up and down the tower via a system of pulleys; her athletic body secured by a nearly invisible harness. The lovely sylph wore a headset, and was obviously being given instructions by the sommelier. Up and down the tower she went, barely pausing long enough to slip a bottle from its cache and return to the ground. "I could do that for 24 hours straight," Ryan said, transfixed.

"Easy," Jordan agreed. "I’d do it for free."

"Let’s go, you two," Jamie said, tugging on her partner’s hand. "You’re goofy enough to try to wrestle the poor woman out of that harness."

That comment got Ryan’s attention, and she leaned over and whispered, "You have no idea how many times I’ve wrestled a woman out of a harness."

Jamie swatted her on the seat, no longer caring if people saw her. "Big talker," she whispered back. "I think you’ve made up half of your supposed debauchery."

Not rising to the bait, Ryan waggled her eyebrows, "Wanna bet?"

"No thanks," Jamie said, smiling up at her. "I don’t want to lose my shirt like that poor old chicken farmer did."

"Chicken farmer?" Ryan asked, scratching her head as Jamie tugged her over to their table.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Leaving the restaurant, Ryan clutched the complimentary box of handmade chocolates to her breast, leaving no doubt that they were hers alone. Deciding to walk their dinner off, they began the long stroll back to The Bellagio.

On the walk along the crowded Strip, they passed a near-constant stream of young Latin men, handing out full-color ads for prostitutes. The men were respectful, doing their best not to give the ads to children or women. But there wasn’t one who did not thrust one of the ads into Ryan’s hands. After the twentieth such encounter, her friends were laughing helplessly; and the look on the dark beauty’s face was as funny as the situation. "Do I look like a guy? Or can everyone tell I’m a big dyke looking for a woman?"

"Neither honey," Jamie assured her. "It’s your height. They don’t look at your face; they see that you’re a foot taller than they are, and shove a flyer at you."

Ryan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, giving Jamie a scowl. "Jordan’s a half inch taller than me, and she hasn’t gotten one."

"Hmm … I guess you look like a big dyke then," Jamie said, giggling, "’cause you sure don’t look like any man I’ve ever seen."

"Thanks, I think," Ryan said, and shrugged her shoulders, only to have another young man put a particularly lewd picture in her hand. "I don’t have to pay for it!" she shouted, waving the picture at him.

"I’d pay you," Jamie said, pulling her down so that only she could hear. "Any price, any time."

"That’s more like it," the brunette sniffed, her dignity somewhat restored.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When they reached The Bellagio, they walked past the throngs of people waiting to enter the theatre to see "O." Ryan walked over to the ticket window while Jamie paused to regale their friends with how much they had enjoyed the performance, and moments later she was back, beaming a grin. She extended a pair of tickets to Jordan and said, "Eleven o’clock tonight. Be there."

Jordan gaped at her. "Jamie said they were sold out! How did you …?"

"They had some cancellations," she said. "Never hurts to ask."

"Ryan!" Mia cried. "You didn’t have to do this!"

"I enjoyed the show so much," she said, "that I want you to see it, too." Her face grew serious and she said, "I love winning money — but it’s like a gift — it doesn’t feel like mine. It gives me a great deal of pleasure to share it with my friends."

Mia wrapped her in a hug and grasped her hand as they walked towards the elevators, the pair a few steps in front of Jordan and Jamie. "You know," the curly-haired woman said thoughtfully, "I used to worry about Jamie. I honestly never thought she could find anyone as generous and loving as she is — and I thought she might not be able to share that part of herself with her husband. It’s so nice to see her with someone who’s as kind as she is. You two deserve each other, Ryan."

Ryan leaned over and placed a kiss on the crown of Mia’s curly head. "Thanks. I appreciate that. Being compared to Jamie is the nicest compliment you could give me."

* * * * * * * * * * *

After Jordan and Mia dropped off their bags in the room Jamie and Ryan had vacated, they prevailed upon their friends to do a little gambling with them before returning to the team hotel. The found a bank of slot machines in a quiet corner of the casino, so they could talk while they gambled. Ryan and Jordan were sitting on the cushioned, brocade chairs, while their smaller girlfriends each perched upon one of their athlete’s legs. "We made our reservations for Sydney this week," Ryan said. "I’m so damned excited about coming to watch you. I don’t think I’d be any more excited if I were going to compete."

Jordan gave her one of her most luminous grins. "It’s gonna be so great to have you all there. Do you remember what flight you’re on?"

"We’re on Quantas, and we get in the day before the opening ceremonies," Jamie said.

"Oh, good. You won’t be on the same flight with my parents," Jordan said, obviously relieved.

"Both of your parents are coming?" Ryan asked.

"And my brother and my grandmother," the blonde said, looking unenthused.

Mia rolled her eyes, and Jamie could tell something was up, but she didn’t want to pry. Switching to what she assumed would be a safer topic, she asked, "What does your brother do, Jordan? I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about him much."

Jordan pursed her lips, her brow knit into a frown. "He’s kind of an actor."

"Kind of?"

Jordan turned to Jamie and shrugged her shoulders. "There’s a breed of people in LA who manage to live with no visible means of support. He claims that he’s an actor, but I’ve never heard of him appearing in anything. I think he’s still in Actor’s Equity, but last I heard he was in danger of losing his card since he hadn’t worked."

"And he doesn’t do anything else?" Jamie asked.

"Not that I know of. He has an apartment in Brentwood, and he always has a nice car, but I don’t have a clue how he pays for it."

"Maybe your father …?"

That got a laugh from Jordan. "Not hardly. I don’t think they speak."

"Oh." Jamie knew this conversation had run its course, but she didn’t want it to end on such a down note. "Maybe he takes jobs here and there that you don’t know about."

"I’m sure that’s true," Jordan said, smiling enigmatically, and letting the issue drop.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"This game is too dull," Ryan declared. "Let’s play blackjack together."

"I don’t know a thing about it," Mia insisted. "I’ll go broke in two minutes."

"No, no, no, it’s fun. Let’s find some good blackjack slot machines, and I’ll explain it to you," Ryan suggested. "You’ve gotta play a few hands of a real game on your first trip to Las Vegas. Come on."

She confidently led the way, and her friends dutifully joined her when she’d located the right type of machine. A cocktail waitress came by, and Ryan gave her a charming grin and said, "If you’d bring us a bottle of water every time you come by, we’d sure appreciate it." She slipped the woman a five dollar bill, and received a warm, friendly smile in return.

"I’ll be back in a minute," she said, and Jamie could see a brief flash of connection between the women.

Leaning in, the blonde asked, "You could get her if you wanted her, couldn’t you?"

"Mmm … I’m not sure," Ryan said thoughtfully. "You can never tell with women who work for tips. Most of them have a very well developed sense of people. If they pick up that you’re gay, a lot of them will play with you, to make you think you can get them."

Jamie gave her a curious look, and asked, "Do you ever want to try to pick a woman up to see if you still have the magic?"

Ryan smirked at her, shaking her head. "Nope. No interest." At Jamie’s pleased smile, she added, "I know I’ve still got it."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan launched into a rather detailed explanation of her usual strategy, but quickly realized that she had lost both Mia and Jamie. Jordan was paying rapt attention, however, so she kept going, figuring that she’d think of another way to keep the stragglers involved.

Mia had disconnected so thoroughly, that she didn’t notice when all eyes turned to her.

"Uhm … Mia, why are you staring at that couple?" Jordan asked when she caught her attention.

"Oh!" The brunette actually blushed — not an easy thing to make her do. "Uhm … I was … thinking."

"About what, baby?" Jordan asked. "You look like something’s bothering you."

"Uhm … no, I’m okay." She looked uncomfortable, but all three women were looking at her, and she swallowed and said, "I was thinking about attraction and … stuff."

"Huh?" Jordan cast another glance at the extremely attractive couple playing the nearby slot machines. The dark haired man looked Italian or Spanish, and his fair-haired companion appeared to be a typical California actress/model. They were beautifully dressed and both oozed sex appeal. The man was playing the machine, with the woman leaning on a column, watching him intently. She gave off a vibe that said she was waiting for him to finish so that she could take him to their room and have her way with him.

"I was thinking about sex appeal and sexual orientation and things like that," Mia explained vaguely.

Jordan’s look was still blank, and Jamie and Ryan’s exhibited similar confusion.

"Okay," she explained, knowing she’d painted herself into a corner. "When you look at a couple like that, who do you notice first?"

Jordan scratched her head and said, "I don’t look at other people very often. If I don’t know them, I hardly notice that someone’s there."

Mia knew this was true, even though she didn’t understand it. She loved to look at people, and she noticed nearly everyone she encountered on a given day. Jordan, on the other hand, seemed to glide through her own little world, concentrating on something or other that only she was aware of.

"What about you?" the blonde asked Mia. "Who do you notice?"

"Mmm …" she said, wishing she hadn’t gone down this path. "It depends."

Jordan grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. "It’s okay, Mia. Who do you notice? It won’t hurt my feelings. I’m interested."

She nodded and told the truth. "I see the guy. I always see the guy. If the woman’s extraordinary I notice her, too, but it’s the guy who catches my eye." She shrugged her shoulders, looking slightly bothered by this fact.

Trying to take the spotlight off Mia, Jamie piped up. "I see them both," she said. "It’s like my mind looks at them as a couple, like I’m trying to assess their chemistry — then I check out the woman ... thoroughly." She was blushing a little as she said this, but Ryan thought it was adorable, and gave her a little pat to encourage her to be honest. "What about you, Ryan?" she asked.

Ryan took in the scene, letting her mind assess it as she normally would. The man was giving off a powerful vibe, his attention fixed on the spinning reels, his fit, muscular body beautifully displayed in a tight black T-shirt and black slacks. The woman was very much in the background, most of her energy fixed upon him. He pulled on the handle with gusto, thrusting his hips with each forceful yank. Ryan noted that he was playing 3 coins in a ten-dollar machine, tossing away thirty bucks with each unsuccessful spin. Satisfied with the information that her brain had registered, she shrugged and said, "I see a really hot woman leaning against a pillar." That drew a hearty laugh from her friends, but Ryan wasn’t trying to be funny. She didn’t notice men most of the time — unless there weren’t any women around to capture her attention. "I’m being serious, guys," she insisted. "It’s how we’re programmed and how we’ve trained ourselves."

Still looking concerned, Mia turned to Jamie, and asked, "After you came out, did the way you look at people change?"

"Mmm … to be really, really honest," Jamie said, drawing out her answer, "no. It didn’t. I’ve always noticed women. I used to try to convince myself that I was checking out their clothes, or their style, but in reality I was looking at their asses," she said, giggling. "I’m more honest about it now, but nothing has changed."

Ryan loved to hear her partner talk about her still-developing sexual personae, so she encouraged her to continue. "What do you look at when you see a nice-looking woman?"

"Hmm …" Jamie turned her attention to a lovely brunette standing at a slot machine. She cocked her head and let herself look at her like she normally did, then relayed the process. "I start at the top and think, ‘Ryan’s hair is much nicer’." She shot a grin at her partner, and continued, "Then I think, ‘Ryan’s face is so much prettier.’ I go down her body, comparing her bit by bit. And let me tell ya, not many parts ever beat yours out, tiger."

"That is absolutely adorable," Ryan said, leaning it for a kiss. "I had no idea that you did that."

"Do you do that, too?" she asked, a hopeful look on her face.

Oh boy! "Well, I uhm … I guess that I kinda …"

"Never mind," Jamie said, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Hey, there’s a very good reason that I don’t compare you to other women," Ryan said, trying to rescue herself. "First off — it’s not a fair comparison. I love the whole you — not only your beautiful face or fabulous body. I don’t know the women I see on a daily basis, so it’s like comparing apples and oranges. They’d lose before the comparison could even begin."

"Hmm … should I accept that answer?" Jamie asked her friends.

"Yeah, give the poor thing a break," Mia urged. "She’s been very nice to us tonight."

"Okay," Jamie said, sparing a glance at the puppy-dog look on Ryan’s face. "I accept your rationale."

"I’m being serious," Ryan insisted. "The women I look at are merely bodies and faces. They don’t touch me or move me. They’re only assemblages of protoplasm."

"Wow!" Jamie gasped as a woman with a massive assemblage of protoplasm arranged on her chest walked by. "Were those real?"

"If you mean real versus illusory, then yes, they were," Ryan teased. "But if you mean real versus manufactured — no, they weren’t."

"How can you be so sure?" Jamie asked. "Maybe she got in the breast line twice when God was handing them out."

"Nope. You can tell. Look at the movement," she instructed. "Breasts that large have to move when you walk, and hers don’t. They’re far too firm and rigid to be real."

"Have you ever … sampled a surgically enhanced pair?"

Ryan shrugged and said, "Only partially."

"Explain," Jamie insisted.

"Well … at my old gym, one of my clients had hers done. She told me I could feel them — so I did."

"A client let you feel her tits?" Jamie gasped in surprise.

"Well … I think she suspected that I was an aficionado," she said. "She’d recently had them done, and she asked if I’d like to give her some feedback. So, we went into the locker room when we were done with our session, and I felt them."

"Amazing," Jamie said, shaking her head.

"They were kinda weird," Ryan revealed. "Not bad weird — different weird. They had a very, very different feel — much more resilient than natural breasts. I’d have to get used to them before I could enjoy them."

"Not to worry," Jamie said. "I won’t be having mine done in the near future, and we’ve agreed that you don’t get to sample anyone else’s."

"Not true," Ryan said. "We’ve agreed that I don’t want to sample anyone else’s. Small, but vital difference. You don’t force me to want only you. It’s the simple truth."

* * * * * * * * * * *

They walked over to the blackjack tables together, with Jamie asking Ryan a few detailed questions about the enhanced breasts. She knew she’d never experience any, but she was a more avid aficionado than Ryan was, so she felt it mandatory to live vicariously through her partner.

Finding an empty table, the foursome took their places, Mia and Jamie agreeing that Ryan would signal them when she wanted them to hit. They played for quite a while, and managed to lose only about a hundred dollars among the three of them. Jordan, however, was on a roll — even though she’d never played before. She didn’t ask for Ryan’s help, and she proved that she didn’t need it — getting up to $500 before she cashed out. "What a rush!" she moaned to Ryan when they stood in the cashier line. "That was hot!"

"It does feel good, doesn’t it?" Ryan asked. "I think gambling is one vice I could easily become addicted to. Thank God I’m too cheap to be able to tolerate losing money!"

Jordan peeled off $200 and extended it towards Ryan. "Let me pay you back for the tickets to ‘O’."

Ryan firmly pushed the money back at her. "Nope. Use it to buy a plane ticket to come home. Mia misses you something fierce."

"I know. It’s hard to tell which of us is more miserable."

"I think it’s a tie," Ryan said. "We’re gonna head home now. You two have a great time tonight, okay?"

"We will. We’ll try to get to your game tomorrow …" she began, but Ryan hushed her.

"Please don’t come. I’d like it if you stayed up late and made love until dawn. You need to spend your time together."

Jordan nodded and gave Ryan a kiss. "I would have had a best friend years ago if I could have had one like you."

"You’ve got one now," Ryan promised, wrapping her in a hug.

* * * * * * * * * * *

After their friends left, Mia and Jordan went to another quiet bar to have a drink before the show began. The smaller woman sipped her Cosmopolitan, deep in thought.

"What’s going on behind those pretty eyes?" Jordan asked.

"I didn’t hurt your feelings when I said I noticed men first, did I?"

Reaching across the table, Jordan took her hand and gave it a tug. Mia smiled and moved her chair closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. "Do you have any desire to break up with me to be with one of the guys you notice?"

"No! Of course not!" She leaned her head against the soft wool of Jordan’s jacket and said, "I apologize for bringing the topic up. It was tacky," she said. "I feel like I’m fixated with sexual desire and orientation these days."

Stroking her thigh, Jordan leaned in close and asked, "Why, babe?"

"I’ve been thinking," she sighed. "Sometimes I wish I were gay. It would make things easier."

Laughing gently, Jordan said, "That’s a new development. You know things have changed when being gay is easier than being straight."

"Not for everything," Mia said. "But it would be easier for things like telling my parents about us. I think they’d understand if I told them I was a lesbian. It’s this damned mixed-up orientation that I have that’s hard to explain."

"Baby, you’re not mixed up. You’re perfectly, logically, Mia. You are what you are."

"I know," she sighed. "But I think it’s gonna be hard to make them understand my Mia-ness."

"Are you thinking about telling them? I uhm … thought that you were certain that you didn’t want them to know."

"Things are different now, Jordan," she said, reaching down to grasp her hand. "We’re not merely dating now. I’ve never kept anything important from them — and you’re very, very important."

"Thanks," she whispered. They sat in silence for a few minutes while each tried to think of a solution. "Maybe you could wait until the summer’s over. That will give you six months to prepare — maybe drop a few subtle hints."

"That won’t work. I uhm … have to tell them before that because I have to make a decision about grad school."

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked.

Mia had been delaying discussing the issue, since she knew Jordan would feel strongly about it. "I’m not sure I’m going to go."

"Pardon me?" Jordan gasped. "You’ve got to go!"

"But school starts at the end of August. I’d have to take over a week off to go to the Olympics — and believe me — I’m going to the Olympics!"

Jordan let out a massive sigh and forced a smile onto her face. "We’ll figure it out, Mia. I’m not sure how we’ll do it — but we’ll figure it out."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The Saturday softball games went as well as the Friday ones had. Once again, Jackie was toast after the first match, and Ryan ably took her place. They beat the University of Virginia handily, 6-1, with Ryan getting her first home run of the year, a solo shot in the first inning.

As usual, Jamie was waiting outside of the locker room when Ryan emerged, grimy, sweaty and smiling. The smaller woman tossed a ball at her, which Ryan caught defensively. "What’s this?" she asked.

"Your home run ball. You don’t think I’m going to let them throw it back in with the rest of the balls, do you?"

Ryan blinked at her, surprised and puzzled by her feat. "But how …?"

Jamie smiled and let her in on her scheme. "I saw a kid who works at the facility run out there to retrieve it. I caught him before he entered the clubhouse and gave him $20 for it." She waggled her eyebrows Ryan-style, breaking her partner up, as usual.

"You’re the best," she said, giving her a sweaty squeeze.

"I’m inspired to greatness."

* * * * * * * * * * *

After a quick clean-up, the pair headed to The Mirage to meet up with Jordan and Mia. "Have a nice day?" Ryan whispered into Mia’s ear when they found them playing quarter slots.

"Yipes!" She turned and gave her a light slap in the gut. "You scared me!"

"Well, did you?" Ryan asked, unrepentant.

"Yes, we did, as a matter of fact. We’ve been vertical for nearly an hour now." She had a very pleased smile on her face, and Ryan nodded her approval.

"Good job. Now I won’t feel bad demanding that you come to the game tomorrow. We swept today, so we’re in the championship game tomorrow. It’s not until two, so you can get your beauty rest."

"In my case, the correct term is resting with my beauty, but I get your point," Mia said. "We’ll be there. Did you play?"

"Yep. Started the second game. Hit my first home run."

"Way to go, boomer!" Jordan said. "You rule!"

"Thanks. We’ve been playing great. Haven’t lost one yet."

"We’ll definitely be there to root you on," Jordan said. "I can’t wait to see Heather, too. How’s she doing?"

"Good. I wish we could have brought her tonight, but she skipped a grade and hasn’t even turned 18 yet — much less 21. Oh, she and Ashley are tutoring Jennie, you know. It’s been going well."

"Does she get to play much?"

"Nope. She hasn’t played in a real game yet — but she doesn’t seem to mind. Coach likes to go with a hot hand — and Stephanie and Courtney are mowing people down. She’ll play plenty if she sticks with it next year, though. I think she’ll be good once she matures into her body a little bit. She pitched in the alumni game and did very well."

"So, what do you guys want to do tonight?" Jamie asked.

"I wanna go see ‘O’ again," Jordan said. "That show was so totally fine! We can’t thank you guys enough."

"It was great, wasn’t it?" Jamie asked. "Once Ryan got over her disappointment at not having lions and tigers and bears, she was goofy for it."

"Speaking of tigers," Mia said, "Let’s see if we can get tickets to see those weird guys with the white tigers."

Jordan rolled her eyes and Ryan’s mirrored her. "No interest," the blonde said.

Jamie, however, completely agreed with Mia’s desire. "Come on, you two. It’ll be fun."

"Doesn’t sound like fun to me," Ryan said. "I don’t like those big, staged shows."

"You enjoyed ‘O’ more than I’ve ever seen you enjoy anything," Jamie reminded her.

"It was awesome," Ryan said, "but watching those guys with the tigers is not in the same category. I wanna play poker, blackjack, or maybe craps."

"Me, too," Jordan said. Turning to Ryan, she asked, "What’s craps?"

"Fine. We’ll see if we can snare a couple of tickets," Jamie said. "And we won’t tell you any of the cool things that happen."

Ryan had a perfect mental image of Jamie as a six-year-old, snubbing her little friends for refusing to go along with one of her ideas. Unable to resist her allure, she bent her head and kissed her soundly, pressing their bodies tightly together until Jamie relaxed against her. "I would have loved to have known you when you were a little girl," she murmured into her ear.

Struggling to get her bearings, Jamie responded, "I didn’t do things like that with my little girl friends. Elizabeth would not have approved."

"I’m glad she went back to England," Ryan said. "She doesn’t sound like any fun at all."

Giving the long body a squeeze, Jamie sent the jocks on their way. "You two have fun. The show’s over at ten, so we’ll come find you at either the poker or the blackjack tables."

"Okay," Ryan said. "Miss you already."

"Uh-huh. That’s why you don’t want to come with me," she scoffed.

"How can I miss you if you won’t go away?" Ryan teased over her shoulder, drawing a fierce scowl that quickly turned into a smile and a blown kiss from her partner.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan’s luck was holding, and she amassed quite a little nest egg from her two hours at the poker table. Jordan stuck with blackjack, making the $100 bankroll she’d started with triple over the course of the evening. It was not yet ten o’clock, but because her concentration was beginning to wander, Ryan decided to cash out. She and Jordan went to the slot machines that bordered the blackjack area, thinking that Jamie and Mia would try that area first.

Jordan went to fetch some mineral water for them, since the free drinks were slow to come. Ryan wasn’t paying much attention, slowly putting one quarter at a time into the machine. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned, expecting to find Jamie. To her surprise, the woman now touching her back was part of the reason her concentration had flagged at the poker table, and she swallowed hard when she found herself face to face with the object of her distraction.

The woman looked like a model or an actress, and Ryan had a very vague sense of having seen her somewhere. She racked her brain, trying to remember any recent movies she’d seen, but came up blank. "You play well," she said in a very friendly voice. Ryan swallowed, trying not to stare at the long, lean legs, shapely body, and generous breasts; or the long, light brown hair held back in a simple braid, showing off the well-defined planes of her face. Her eyes were hazel, and they were gazing avidly at Ryan.

Ryan shrugged, trying to avoid looking into the woman’s beckoning eyes. "Anybody can pull a handle. The skill is in designing the computer program that sets the random payout for the machine."

The hand returned to her shoulder and squeezed a bit, sending a shiver down Ryan’s spine. "I meant that you play poker well. I think you saw me watching you … didn’t you."

A faint flush climbed Ryan’s cheeks and she nodded. "Yeah. I thought maybe you were looking at someone else."

"No. Only you," the woman said. "You held my attention."

Ryan made a show of holding up her left hand, flexing her ring finger — hoping to blind the woman with her diamonds. "Thanks. Uhm … but my attention is taken. I’m permanently partnered."

A tiny frown crossed the woman’s face and she said, "You’ve been by yourself all night … I assumed …"

"That makes perfect sense," Ryan said. She rose from her stool and started to move away, wanting to remove herself from this discussion as soon as possible.

The woman moved right with her, however, and put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "Are you forbidden to talk to people?"

"No, no, of course not," Ryan said, slightly flustered. She honestly didn’t know what to do in this situation. She knew that the woman didn’t want to discuss how the program for the slot machine might work, but she didn’t want to be rude. Something inside told her that Jamie wouldn’t be very happy to find her spending time with a beautiful stranger, no matter how innocent the situation. "I can talk to whomever I want, but you’re wasting your time talking to me."

"You’re pretty fond of yourself, aren’t you?" the woman asked, tilting her head.

"No, I’m not," Ryan insisted, backing away from the woman. "But I have a lover, I don’t live around here, and we’ll never see each other again; so why not find someone who can show you a better time than I can?"

The woman tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smirk. "I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more henpecked than you are. Does she beat you for having fun?"

Ryan’s eyes darkened, and she gave the woman a withering look. "That’s not even remotely funny. I’m in love with my partner, and I’ve never met a woman who I’d prefer to spend my time with. Including tonight." She brushed past the woman, who followed right along beside her, trying to get in one last dig. But when they got to a small seating area, the stranger tripped on something and violently banged into Ryan. The dark haired woman fell onto the cushion of an overstuffed chair, with the other woman falling right into her lap. Those dangerously long legs were now exposed up to mid thigh, and Ryan struggled to catch her breath.

"Did I hurt you?" the woman asked, feeling gently around Ryan’s body to check for damage.

Trying to remove her wandering hands, Ryan sputtered, "No! Now, please get off my lap!"

"Fine," the woman huffed. "Look, I fell. I’m not trying to assault you! You’re a good-looking woman, but I’ve had better. Get over yourself!"

Ceasing her attempts to extricate herself from the chair, Ryan gave the woman a chagrined look and said, "I’m sorry if it sounded like that. Really. I’m sorry."

"That’s okay," the woman said. "You just shot me down awfully quickly. I’m … not used to that." She was sitting across Ryan’s lap, with one arm draped around her shoulders. "Damn, my watch snagged on your sweater. I think I’ve almost got it … okay! I’m free."

As the woman started to get up, Ryan heard Jamie’s outraged voice. "Ryan! How could you!"

Grasping the woman by the waist, Ryan pushed her to her feet, crying after her lover’s departing form," Jamie! It’s not what it looks like! She fell!"

"Is that the best you could come up with?" Mia growled, giving Ryan a menacing look before she ran after her friend.

Ryan quickly made sure the woman had regained her balance, and ran as fast as she could, barely able to see Jamie’s blonde head in the distance. Her heart was pounding so hard that she felt faint, but she kept going until she lost her partner near the progressive slots. Not having a clue of where to look, she started back for where she had left Jordan. She got no more than ten feet when a pair of hands pushed her into a quiet corner. Now, a very familiar pair of lips met hers, and she immediately relaxed into the kiss. "You got me back, didn’t you," she mumbled as her knees began to weaken.

"Yep." Jamie kissed her again, ratcheting up the passion. "You’ve been had."

"You can have me any time you want me," Ryan said, smiling down at her. "And, for the record, I’ll never play another practical joke on you. You’re fucking vicious!"

"Sure am," she said. "I’ve got to pull out all the stops when I’m dealing with the likes of you."

Both laughing, they walked back to find their friends, Ryan pausing to ask, "How did you find someone to play that joke on me?"

"I recognized her from the Bimbo Express," the blonde said. "Cost me $100." She cocked her head at Ryan and said, "See how serious I am about getting revenge? I could have had sex with her for twenty minutes, but I spent my whole allotment getting back at you."

"Uhm … thanks, I think," Ryan gulped.

"She assured me that she was the best in the business, but she’s a rank amateur compared to you, babe. You’re the tops."

"Even though your opinion is based on pure speculation, I’m very glad to hear it," Ryan said, giving her lover a blissful smile.

* * * * * * * * * * *

After they saw Jamie and Ryan off, Mia grinned up at her partner and asked, "Where to now?"

Jordan shrugged. "I don’t want to gamble any more. I’m up $500, and I’m using it for a plane ticket." At Mia’s raised eyebrow, Jordan tapped the brunette’s nose with her finger, then placed a tiny kiss there. "A plane ticket to come see you. I can’t bear to be away from you for longer than a month."

"Let’s not talk about being apart right now, okay?" Mia asked gently, her face reflecting her sadness over their separation. "Let’s try to stay upbeat. I hate to waste a minute that we have together."

"You’re right," Jordan said. "Let’s go back to our room. There’s nothing that appeals to me more than being alone with you."

When they reached the room, Mia said, "Let’s fire up that spa tub. Jamie said they didn’t have time to use it, and I hate to see it go to waste."

"Good deal. I’ll go get us some ice while you fill it. I brought a bottle of white wine for us to share."

Several minutes later, the pair was comfortably ensconced in the deep, whirling waters of the tub, sipping at the wine Jordan had brought. "I’ve been thinking about what you said last night," the blonde said. "I hope you know that I’ll do anything I can to help you if you decide to tell your parents."

"I do," she said quietly, "but I don’t know how to do it. I need to think about it for a while."

"What about Peter? Could he tell them first?"

"Mmm … I’ve considered that, but I think it would hurt them to think I was afraid of telling them. I’m sure he’d do it, though. He’s always willing to go to bat for me."

"I can’t wait to meet him," Jordan said. "He sounds like a great brother."

"He is," Mia said. "You know, I think you’ll like my parents, too. They’re nice people, Jordy; and once they get over their shock, I’m sure they’ll be fine." She gave her a squeeze and said, "Someday we’ll be sitting around the dinner table at their house, laughing about how afraid we were to tell them about our relationship."

Jordan had been cupping her hand and pouring water over Mia’s shoulders, but she stopped abruptly. "Do you honestly see that happening?"

"Uhm … yeah," Mia said tentatively. "What’s wrong? Don’t you want to have a relationship with them?"

Letting out a relieved sigh, Jordan closed her eyes and shook her head. "Of course, I do. I just didn’t know that you wanted to have a … normal relationship. You know, like Ryan has with her family, and like Jamie has with her mom."

"Normal?"

"I don’t even know what I’m talking about," Jordan said quickly, her head shaking roughly. "Forget it."

Grasping her arm, Mia held her still and said, "No, I don’t want to forget it. What did you mean?"

Jordan looked chagrined, but she completed her thought. "I guess I’m still fixated on what you told me when we were in L.A. with Ryan and Jamie. You were so clear that you didn’t want anyone to know about us, and it throws me when you talk about things like we’re a regular couple."

Mia leaned back against her, murmuring, "We are a regular couple, sweetheart." She turned as much as she could so that she could look into Jordan’s eyes. "When I said those things in L.A., I was in a very different place. I thought we were only playing, and I didn’t want things to get complicated between us. It seemed to me that if no one knew, it wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t work out. Do you know what I mean?"

Nodding briefly, Jordan waited for her to continue.

"We’re not playing any more," Mia whispered, snuggling closer as she tilted her head upwards. Her breath was warm and sweet, and Jordan was drawn towards her, their noses nearly touching. "I’m deeply in love with you, Jordan, and you can take everything I said in L.A. and trash it. I want to tell my parents about us. I want to tell my friends about us. I want everyone I know to know how special you are, and how much you mean to me." A few hot tears slid down Jordan’s face and Mia kissed them away as they fell. "I love you," she whispered between kisses. "I want to share my life, and all of the people in my life, with you."

"How much of your life?" Jordan’s faint voice asked.

"All of it," Mia promised. "I want to share everything with you."

"For how long?" The look on her face was one of pure terror, and Mia couldn’t answer fast enough.

"Forever," she whispered. "I want to love you forever."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The sun peeked over the mountains, spreading a warm orange glow over the room. The heat radiated through the large window, painting the glistening bodies with a vivid, golden light. "Is this what being in love feels like for everyone?" Jordan’s lazy, soft voice asked.

"Don’t know," Mia mumbled. She was lying on her belly, too enervated to even think of moving. Not that she could move much even if she’d wanted to, since Jordan was sprawled on top of her, her head pillowed between Mia’s shoulder blades. When the smaller woman spoke, the vibrations hummed against Jordan’s cheek, making her smile serenely. "It’s never been like this for me."

"Am I crushing you?" Jordan asked, hoping the answer was no, since she was quite sure she couldn’t move.

"Uh-huh." Mia’s voice was a little wispy from her inability to take a deep breath, but as Jordan tried to roll off, she placed a restraining hand on her hip. "I like it."

With a gentle laugh, Jordan said, "You like to be crushed?"

"No. But, I want to share your skin. This is the closest I think I can get."

"Let’s try it the other way," Jordan suggested. Summoning a burst of energy, she rolled off and lay on her back, then pulled Mia on top of her. "How’s this?"

Nuzzling her head against the softest breast imaginable, Mia sighed deeply. "Preferable. My ribs thank you."

"Tell me how it’s been for you before," Jordan asked, trying to understand how Mia experienced their love.

She tried to recall how things had been for her, and finally said, "I’ve thought I was in love before, Jordy. But, now I’m not so sure. It never — ever felt like this."

Jordan reached up and started to run her fingers through Mia’s curls, delighting in the feel of the soft ringlets. "How is it different?"

"Mmm … lots of ways. But, it’s hardly fair to make the comparison, because I know that I wasn’t really in love before."

"But, you thought you were," Jordan said.

"Yeah, yeah, I did. But I’ve decided that it’s easy to confuse desire with love — especially when you’re young."

"Did you think you were in love with your high school boyfriend?"

"Who, Mark?"

"Uhm … was he the guy you were with during your senior year?"

"Yeah, that was Mark. It’s hard to believe that was only 4 year ago," Mia said thoughtfully. "Looking back, I was only a girl then. I’m starting to have more empathy for my parents." She started to laugh, making Jordan’s body jiggle as well. "They knew I was just a kid, but I was sure I was an adult, and should be able to make all of my own decisions."

"Tell me about Mark," Jordan said. "You’ve never spoken about him much."

"That’s because there isn’t a lot to tell. He was a good catch: tall, good-looking, popular, a good athlete — and a total goof-off in school. My ideal man," she added, giggling a little. "I liked him, we got along pretty well in bed, and he was a lot of fun when we went out."

"When did you realize that you didn’t love him?" Jordan asked, obviously not willing to let the topic drop.

Mia thought for a minute, trying to recall the chain of events. "I guess I was certain that I didn’t love him when I started wishing he and Trey would leave so I could be alone with Melissa. I don’t think that’s the normal reaction of a woman in love." She gave Jordan a sad, wistful smile, and the blonde squeezed her a little tighter.

"Does it make you sad to talk about this?"

"Mmm … a little I guess. I … I wish I’d had the guts to let myself face my feelings for Melissa. I think I could have loved her."

"Do you really? I got the impression she was only a sex partner."

"Well, that’s the impression I wanted her to have. And that’s what I tried to make myself believe. But, I had feelings for her, Jordy. I felt so much when she held me — so much more than I did when I was with Mark." She shook her head, her ringlets trailing across Jordan’s chest. "I wish I’d let myself explore being vulnerable with her. I’m not sure it would have worked out, but of the people I’ve slept with, I felt more for her than for anyone else — until you, of course."

"It’s okay if you loved her, Mia, you can be honest with me."

Lifting her head so she could stare into Jordan’s eyes, Mia said, "If I’d loved her like I do you, I wouldn’t have been able to be in the kind of denial I was in. I’d risk anything for you, Jordy — I wouldn’t even give Melissa a hint that I had feelings for her. That’s not love."

"I guess you’re right," Jordan said. "You have to be able to risk to love someone."

"You do," Mia agreed. "You also have to be a bit selfless. That’s another big difference for me. I think of you first. That’s never happened to me before. Like with Jason," she explained. "I spent a lot of time trying to make sure he wasn’t getting the better end of the deal. I used to try to protect myself in case he hurt me, too. But, I don’t do that with you. I’m as open with you as I am with my family — and that’s very different for me." Seeing the cautious look in the blue eyes she added, "It’s good different."

"I think of you first, too," Jordan said. "I get up and turn on my computer every morning, and I have the weather for San Francisco on my start page. I think about you waking up, and I actually say, ‘It’s gonna be chilly today, Mia. Make sure you wear a jacket to school’." She laughed softly and said, "I don’t normally notice if the people around me are even clothed. But I’m fixated on your comfort and your safety and your happiness. I’ve never — ever felt this close to anyone … It scares me to death."

"I know," Mia whispered. She tucked her hands under Jordan’s body and rocked her gently. "I know it’s hard for you to trust me not to hurt you."

"I feel so exposed, Mia. I’ve never let anyone in like I have you. I’m not used to being so vulnerable."

"We’re both vulnerable, baby," Mia said. "We have to treat each other’s heart like it’s the most fragile thing on earth. I promise to do everything I can to make it safe for you."

"I do, too," Jordan whispered. They sealed their promises with a tender kiss, then Mia began to relax, and in a few minutes she was sound asleep, her body limp and heavy upon Jordan’s chest. The larger woman wrapped her arms around her and forced herself to remain awake, savoring the weight and feel of Mia’s body … the scent and texture of her skin … the pattern of her breathing. As the sensations flooded her brain, she sighed and allowed herself to experience the depths of emotion she felt for her lover. A small grin split her face, and she gratefully acknowledged, This is what it feels like to love and be loved.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They were nowhere near on time, but Jordan and Mia finally arrived at the stadium as the third inning began. "Did we miss anything good?" Mia asked Jamie as she squinted into the amazingly bright sun.

"Nope. No hits, no runs. Ryan and Heather are both on the bench."

"Sorry we’re late," Jordan said. "We had a hard time getting organized."

Jamie grinned back at her. "It’s happened to me a time or two, also, Jordan. Sometimes Ryan organizes me so thoroughly that I’m nearly paralyzed."

The blonde blushed fiercely, but she didn’t dispute Jamie’s tease. "Softball’s kinda slow moving, huh?" she said, to take the focus off of herself.

Jamie revealed the textbook on her lap. "It can be like watching paint dry," she said. "I’m only interested if Ryan’s playing."

"You’re a good partner," Jordan said, patting her thigh. "I’m sure Ryan appreciates that you come to her games."

"Oh, she’ll have her fill of watching me play golf," Jamie said. "That’s not her favorite thing in the world, either. The only difference is that I’m actually playing."

Jordan shook her head. "Doesn’t it bother her to sit on the bench? It would drive me crazy!"

"It honestly doesn’t seem to," Jamie said. "It surprised me, too, but she seems perfectly fine with it. I think she enjoys the team experience as much as the playing experience — and she likes her teammates a lot."

"I like my teammates as long as I’m on the court," Jordan said. "If I were on the bench for long, I’d be plotting a debilitating accident for one of them."

* * * * * * * * * * *

As usual, Mia needed something to munch on, and she went in search of junk food. Jamie looked at Jordan and noticed a peacefulness to her expression that was quite rare. She patted her leg and commented simply, "You look happy."

A wide smile telegraphed her reply. "Mia makes me happy."

"I think it goes both ways, Jordan. She talks about you with a depth of emotion that I’ve never heard from her. You’re good for each other."

Jordan cocked her head a bit, and looked at Jamie speculatively. "I assume you know about her getting into Stanford?"

"Yeah. Pretty awesome, huh?"

"It didn’t surprise me," Jordan said thoughtfully. "I know she’s capable of anything that interests her. She’s a very bright woman."

"She is. She doesn’t always want people to know it — but she is."

"Do you think she wants to be a lawyer?" Jordan’s face reflected her doubt, but Jamie wasn’t able to reassure her.

"I’ve known her for almost eight years, Jordan, and when she told me she was admitted, that was the first time she’s ever mentioned the idea. If it’s been a burning desire, she’s kept it well hidden."

"That’s what I’m afraid of," she mused. "I don’t know what’s behind her desire to go — maybe it’s only to please her father."

"Mmm … maybe. She’s very fond of him, and I know he’s thrilled." She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I think it might be a way to stay in school for a while. She’s not crazy about school, but I know she’s not terribly interested in any particular line of work. Maybe a few more years of school will help her make up her mind about what she wants to do." Jordan nodded, but didn’t look convinced. Jamie patted her leg and asked, "What about you? What do you want to do when your time with the team is over?"

"Oh. I’m going to be an architect." There wasn’t a glimmer of doubt in her statement, which surprised Jamie a bit.

"I’ve never heard you mention that. Is that a new goal?"

"Oh, no. I made up my mind when I was in grade school." She gave Jamie her usual enigmatic smile, and the smaller woman pondered that she didn’t know one thing about Jordan that she hadn’t learned as a result of a direct question. Jordan would reveal her secrets — but you had to know exactly what questions to ask.

"You’ll be quite the power couple," Jamie teased. "An architect and an attorney."

"The power part means nothing to me," Jordan said, "but the couple part means everything." She turned her attention back to the game, and Jamie gave her another puzzled glance. There’s a lot going on behind those blue eyes, and Mia’s just the one to pull it out of her.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan didn’t get the call until the top of the seventh, when Coach Roberts sent her in to pinch-run for Jackie. All three of her fans focused their attention on her, with Jordan commenting, "God, she looks like she’s seven feet tall!"

Jamie giggled at her comment, but she had to admit that it was accurate. "I think it’s because so many of the women are particularly short. This obviously isn’t a tall woman’s game."

"It’s kinda cute," Mia said. "She looks so comfortable with her height that it looks very natural."

"She is," Jamie said. "I’m not sure how Martin did it, but he helped her have confidence in her body." Turning to Jordan, she commented, "You seem very much at ease with your height, too."

"Yeah, I am," she said. "Probably because I got so much acclaim from my sport. It’s a good thing to be a tall volleyball player, and I got praise heaped on me when I grew an inch. Plus, my mother’s tall, and she thought it was a good thing if I wanted to model."

"She encouraged you to do that, honey?" Mia asked, never having heard of a single encouraging word from Jordan’s mother.

"Yeah," she said absently, her attention focused on Ryan. "She was a pretty well-known model in the seventies. She thinks it’s a great way to make a living."

"Your mom was a model?" Mia had never heard a whisper about this fact.

"Yep. Cover girl. She’s got most of the important ones framed. She quit when she had Gunnar." She turned to Mia, and added, "My dad says that she was planning on going back, but she got pregnant with me — unexpectedly. Apparently, she wasn’t aware that she was pregnant — she was so thin that she often missed a period. She didn’t know she was pregnant until she was 4 months along — too late to have an abortion." She shrugged and gave Mia a half smile. "Good thing she didn’t gain much weight, huh?"

"Oh, Jordy, why would anyone tell you that?" Mia reached out and grasped her lover’s hand, giving it a squeeze while looking at her with tears in her eyes.

"I don’t know," the blonde said quietly. "But, I remember her telling me dozens of times that she would have been one of the top models of her era — if it hadn’t been for me. I guess she wanted to make sure I knew it was my fault."

Mia stared straight ahead, her eyes focused on Ryan, who was moving around on her base, but her mind filled with thoughts of a young Jordan. "I’d sacrifice anything to have a daughter as wonderful as you are," she sighed. "I wish she appreciated what she has."

"Not gonna happen," Jordan said briskly. "No sense wishing for what will never be." She said this so matter-of-factly that only Mia noticed the flash of pain and longing that briefly flitted across her features.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan was dancing around first base, trying to distract the pitcher, but her tactics were ineffective. The next two batters struck out — leaving her stranded. Jamie sighed and shrugged. "Oh well, at least she didn’t get hurt."

"That’s not a small accomplishment for her," Jordan said. "Coach Placer used to get so pissed off at her. She’d go running up into the stands to return a ball — nearly breaking her neck to get to it — and this was during warm ups! She gets so focused that it doesn’t matter to her that the play is meaningless."

"She’s like that about everything," Jamie said, sparing a fond glance at her partner, who was throwing the ball around the infield to warm up. "If Ryan does something, she does it with every bit of effort and concentration that she has." She thought about her statement for a moment and added, "It’s her best and her most frustrating trait."

Mia giggled and tucked an arm around Jordan, giving her a squeeze. "My Jordy’s no slacker in the effort and concentration department, either. But, I’d have to say it’s all good, in her case."

Jordan blushed while Jamie elaborated. "I admit it’s a wonderful thing most of the time — but I’d like to see you try to pull her away from her computer when she’s working on a math problem. She doesn’t know I’m talking to her — she doesn’t see me if I stand right next to her — and if I touch her, she nearly jumps out of her seat! I swear I’m going to give the poor thing a heart attack."

"You’ve gotta take the bitter with the sweet," Mia said. "Having the full concentration of these big girls is worth whatever little problems we have to put up with, Jamie."

"Can’t argue with you, Mia," Jamie said, delighted to wring yet another blush from the usually unflappable Jordan.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The bottom-half of the seventh inning passed without incident — securing Cal’s victory. Ryan was upbeat and relaxed when she emerged from the locker room, Heather in tow. The three former teammates started chattering about volleyball, the Olympic team, and some of their former pals. Jamie and Mia finally sat down on the bleachers and watched the threesome for a few minutes. "Heather sure comes out of her shell when the topic turns to volleyball, doesn’t she?" Jamie asked.

"I’ve never heard two words from the girl," Mia observed. "She’s pretty bubbly when you get her going."

"We’d better break up the party," Jamie said. "We’re gonna have to rush to make the plane."

Mia shook her head, staring at Jordan as she said, "I’m on the verge of dropping out of school to go to Colorado with her. It’s tearing me apart to let her leave."

"I know," Jamie sighed, "but I’m sure she doesn’t want you to do that. You’ve only got three months left. Can’t you tough it out?"

"I guess so," she said. "I feel so good when I’m with her, Jamie. She … makes me see the world in a whole new way. Everything is brighter when we’re together."

"I know exactly what you mean. There’s nothing better than being loved."

"And there’s nothing worse than being away from the one you love." With a dejected slump to her shoulders, Mia went to fetch her partner so they could get to the airport in time for yet another parting.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Mia was able to secure a seat on the plane taking the team back, and after a few ticket swaps the threesome was able to sit together. Jamie preferred the window, and Ryan was partial to the aisle, so Mia sat between them. She was uncharacteristically glum and non-communicative; and once the plane was in the air, Ryan took one look at her face and tucked an arm around her shoulders. "Come here," she urged, drawing Mia close. The smaller woman raised the armrest and cuddled up to her body, resting her head on Ryan’s shoulder. Jamie gave her partner an appreciative grin and started patting Mia’s leg, to show her support. "It’ll be okay," Ryan soothed, her voice soft and gentle. "You’ll be together soon, Mia. As soon as you graduate, you can go to Colorado and be together."

"This will be the longest three months of my life," Mia sighed, and both Jamie and Ryan knew that statement was the absolute truth.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When they were lying in bed later that night, Jamie cuddled up next to her partner and asked, "How’d you make out this weekend? I saw a lot of greenbacks bulging in your wallet."

"Mmm … I’d say I came out even," Ryan said. "I had about a hundred dollars of change that I’d collected before I started, and now I’ve got a hundred dollar bill and a pocketful of change."

Jamie sat up abruptly, her hand on Ryan’s chest for support. "What? I didn’t see you lose a lot. Where did it all go?"

Ryan shrugged, and made a non-committal gesture. "Easy come, easy go. I’m happy."

With a quick knock, their door flew open, revealing a sobbing Mia. She was holding some papers in her hand and she shook them in the couple’s direction. "Which one of you did this?" she asked, her voice nearly incomprehensible.

"Did what?" Jamie asked.

"No biggie," Ryan said simultaneously.

Mia gave both of them fervid hugs, reserving a bone-crushing one for Ryan. "You are the most thoughtful woman on earth," she murmured, her lips pressed against Ryan’s hair.

"I told you before, Mia. Money I win gambling is like Monopoly money to me. It gives me a lot of pleasure to share it with my friends."

"Anybody want to clue me in?" Jamie asked, still befuddled.

"Your girlfriend bought me a roundtrip ticket to Denver," Mia informed her. "You are a remarkable woman, Ryan O’Flaherty."

"She has a point, Jamie," the dark woman said, drawing smiles from her audience.

* * * * * * * * * * *