~CRIMSON SNOW~

CHAPTER 3 and 4 of 9

FOR DISCLAIMERS SEE CHAPTER 1

"A 'planning' party? You’re making that up!"

"No, I’m not. It’s vital."

"For what?"

"The success of our vacation of course!" Green eyes rolled dramatically giving Claire the distinct impression that Amanda wanted to add 'you idiot' to the end of her answer.

The lawyer clicked off the 10:30 p.m. news leaving the bedroom lit by only the soft glow of the moon. With a grumble, she adjusted the pillow between her back and the headboard. Deciding she should get even more comfortable, Claire turned sideways and stretched long legs the width of the bed, propping her feet on Amanda’s thighs in an unspoken request for a massage. To her delight, Amanda absently reached down and began rubbing tired feet.

"Ugh…" the attorney grunted in relief managing to maintain the thread of the conversation. She stretched for her Pepsi on the nightstand and with exaggerated care took a long refreshing swallow. "Jody and Mark will have an entire cabin to themselves. What do we care what they pack?"

"I give up." Amanda reached down and goosed Claire's bottom, drawing a muffled giggle from the taller woman. "If you want to wallow in a state of disorganization for your entire life… be my guest." Strong fingers shifted to Claire’s toes and the brunette let out another groan of satisfaction that Amanda found half-humorous and half-arousing. The blonde smiled, knowing she'd been itching to get her hands on her lover all day. "But I’d love to get Mark over here at dinner time," she continued, paying special attention to a sensitive instep.

"Why? You’ve seen him. He’s huge! He eats almost as much as you do!"

"Claire…" the blonde intoned as if speaking to a dullard. "…if we invite Mark and Jody over for dinner..." She let the sentence trail off.

"He’ll refuse to eat anything we fix and offer to BBQ for us?" Claire finished, finally catching on.

Amanda nodded, a devilish grin twitching at her lips.

"Ahh… trickery and deceit… and just which law school did you attend, my little BBQ whore? Huh? Hey!" Claire squealed as Amanda mercilessly tickled the feet resting in her lap. "WOW!! Shit! That’s cold!"

Amanda's fingers stopped and she looked up at Claire who was now wearing half the contents of her glass.

"Oops." The younger woman smiled sheepishly. She didn't manage to look very sorry, especially when her eyes were drawn to Claire's nipples, which even in the moonlight, were clearly visible through the wet shirt. Amanda unconsciously licked her lips wishing she were that shirt.

"You know, Claire..." she began, her tone completely serious. "I would never whore myself out for BBQ." A thoughtful pause. "But for homemade apple pie you'd never see me again," she deadpanned.

The bed shook with Claire's silent laughter. "For homemade pie... I wouldn't care," Claire shot back.

"Ouch!" Amanda laughed. "You could always learn to cook," she suggested hopefully.

"So are cooking skills all it will take to make me irresistible?"

"Too late, baby." Amanda slid out from under Claire's legs and curled up next to her. "I already find you irresistible." She bent down and placed a light kiss on the wet material covering Claire's breast, causing the attorney to gasp. "And you know it."

Slender insistent fingers found their way underneath the cool, damp cloth gently tracing the contours of Claire's ribs. "Aren't you going to take this off?" she asked innocently, giving the fabric a gentle tug. She knew her partner preferred to sleep sans clothing.

Nodding vigorously, Claire reached for the top button, but before she could undo it, her hands were firmly held.

"Don't," the psychologist gently commanded. "I'll do it." Amanda replaced Claire's hands with her own. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked knowingly.

"Mind? Umm… I think not." The words were teasing, but delivered in a voice so husky its timbre alone garnered a physical reaction from Amanda. The smaller woman literally shivered and was forced to jump-start her hands, which had stilled under the onslaught of the rumbling, sensual notes.

A playful eyebrow arched as Claire rolled from her back to her side until she was completely facing Amanda. Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against her partner's. "Are you sure you don't want me to do that, Mandy?" The lawyer was eager to remove any barrier that lay between her and the silky skin she was already craving. God, I love her hands on me. Claire's heart began to pound.

With a sly smile Amanda shook her head and managed to open the top button before she paused again. This time, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing her senses to be flooded with the gentle fragrance her mind would forever associate with her lover. The light scent of roses that clung to Claire's clothing mixed with the faint but unique aroma of the lawyer's skin formed a heady combination that frankly mesmerized the younger woman.

Her mind flashed to a conversation they'd had several months ago where she'd asked Claire what she remembered most from their first meeting at the Courthouse. Without hesitation, the brunette had answered 'your scent', and Amanda felt a clenching deep in her guts as her body responded to the erotic undertones of the words before her mind consciously processed them.

A second button popped open and Amanda peeled back the fabric to taste the tempting flesh beneath. "Hmm," she purred, her hot tongue snaking out, sliding along skin so soft it nearly melted in her mouth. "You taste sweet." I could do this forever.

Another soft 'click' and the inquisitive lips methodically worked lower, drawing another gasp. "Ah...it's...it's the Pepsi," Claire panted.

As each button was freed, the younger woman delicately opened the fabric, exposing more and more skin. Hungry jade eyes greedily devoured each dip and curve, lingering wantonly over every newly exposed valley and ridge.

Claire was finding it hard to speak. Each fleeting kiss and caress was delivered with such gentleness and reverence that they scrambled the lawyer's senses, sending her reeling into a sensory overload. "Christ, Mandy!" She ground out when the smaller woman circled a painfully erect nipple with the tip of her tongue before taking only the very peak into her mouth and sucking gently.

Of its own accord, Claire's body arched toward the roaming lips in a quest for more solid contact. But she was firmly pushed back while her partner worked free the last several buttons of her blouse.

Claire lifted her upper body from the bed, allowing Amanda to strip off the soaked material. Soon, dark jeans met the same fate as Claire's shirt and were discarded in the aftermath of seeking teeth and lips and tongue.

When Claire lay clad in only a pair of black cotton panties, her hands refused to be still. In record time, Amanda's pajama top found its way onto the growing heap on the carpet. Wanting no more distance between them, Claire pulled Amanda on top of her for a deep, sensuous kiss.

Both women moaned their approval as breasts touched breasts and hot tongues collided. Panties were worked free, the women touching all along the length of their bodies, nothing between them but a light coat of perspiration. Long legs tangled with shorter fair ones and bare skin slid across bare skin. Jesus, Claire. I want to taste every inch of your body. The psychologist’s mind was awhirl. Claire grasped her hips and pulled her closer, causing an explosion of sensation that drew a long guttural moan from the younger woman.

A small hand snaked down between the panting bodies and deliberately slid through a field of liquid fire. "God, you're drenched," Amanda's whisper quivered, her arousal obvious. The therapist closed her eyes in a quiet bid for concentration and control, the hot musky liquid surrounding her fingertips nearly undoing her resolve. Easy... slowly, she admonished herself.

Part of the blonde simply wanted to take the gorgeous creature beneath her, but an equal part wanted to prolong the pleasure of their coupling for as long as humanly possible. As far as she was concerned, it was a win-win situation.

Amanda tore her lips from her lover's and ducked her head to kiss along the delicate line of prominent collarbones, stopping in the salty hollow of Claire’s throat. "Do you have any idea how fantastic loving you is, Gumby?" she uttered softly as the body below hers writhed under her gentle ministrations. On the second pass over swollen lips Claire gasped and bucked forward, taking in the full length of nimble fingers, effectively relieving Amanda of any pretense of control or restraint.

Sapphire eyes rolled back in rapture as every last drop of available blood pooled southward toward the spiraling ache in her groin. The lawyer's hands tangled in shaggy red-gold hair, pulling the younger woman up into another searing kiss. In a negligent demonstration of strength, Claire sat up without using her hands, taking Amanda's full body weight with her. The movement caused the smaller woman to straddle Claire's thighs without severing the connection between them.

Large hands tilted the pale head back, and Claire feasted on the luscious skin of her lover's jaw and throat until Amanda's strokes turned purposeful and Claire buried her face in her partner's shoulder.

Sensing the older woman was teetering on the edge of release, the psychologist stilled the hand between Claire's legs and drew her partner's face off her shoulder. Passion-soaked cerulean orbs blazed into hers, ratcheting her desire higher still. Amanda opened her mouth to speak but stopped when her eyes were inexplicably drawn to a single glistening bead of perspiration trailing its way from Claire's bang soaked temple to her jaw line. The drop hung suspended in time, shimmering in the moonlight, until Amanda moved forward and caught the salty moisture on the tip of her tongue, then trailed the scorching organ back up the path the bead had taken.

"Yes!" Claire hissed loudly when Amanda's tongue languidly slid up the side of her face and talented fingers invaded her once again. A delicious warmth flooded her belly and groin and her body began to tremble. Then the hand stilled again, seeming to disappear. "Nooo," she whimpered at the loss of contact. Amanda had coaxed her to the edge of the abyss and the lawyer desperately wanted to fall over.

A stream of heated breath tickled Claire's cheek. Amanda shifted her lips so close to Claire's ear that their tickling movement caused the fine hairs at the nape of her neck to stand at attention, and a flurry Goosebumps to break out over her limbs. "Do you want me to make you come, Claire?" she whispered hotly.

She is so good! Amanda's words and the firestorm of sensation they created were nearly more than Claire could withstand. Hypersensitive skin tingled in the wake of near electric stimulation. Claire swallowed hard, her scattered wits fighting to find her voice. I love you so much. "Yes... Yes... More than anything... Please," she finally managed.

The lips alongside her ear curled into a smile. God, I love you too. "Then come," came the tender command as white teeth gently bit into the sinewy muscle running the length of Claire's throat and determined fingers delved deeper than before. Amanda's thumb slid over the previously ignored throbbing bundle of nerves at Claire's center and the lawyer immediately threw her head back and arched into the exquisite touch. A strangled cry was rent from her chest and her body shuddered violently as the blinding force of her climax enveloped her and she simply...

Shattered.

The blonde wrapped her free arm around her lover's back, hissing at the sizzling wet skin that slid flawlessly against hers. She held Claire tightly, grounding her as she rode out the crashing waves of release in total security and love. Amanda's spirit soared as her lover's body plummeted.

After several moments of tremors and whispered endearments, Amanda eased Claire onto her back. The psychologist withdrew her fingers causing Claire to twitch and groan in protest. Amanda smirked and kissed her lover on the cheek. "Sorry, baby," she murmured against the damp skin.

Claire circled Amanda with her arms and hugged the smaller woman fiercely, her body slowly coming back to life. "You should be," the lawyer teased. "That..." meaning the entire sexual experience "...was just awful." You are amazing.

"Oh, I could tell," Amanda chuckled. "I'm surprised Missy isn't in here already. You screamed loud enough to wake the dead." She paused. "That was different."

Claire cupped Amanda's cheeks, suddenly insecure about her uncharacteristic loss of control. "Did you mind?"

"Mind? Umm... I think not," the younger woman mimicked. Unexpectedly, Amanda grabbed Claire's hand and thrust it to her sopping center, trembling at the touch.

Claire arched a dark eyebrow, her genuine smile lighting up the room. "That was okay, then? I'm not usually so... loud."

"You're kidding right?" Amanda's finger traced soft crimson lips, her wry smile answering Claire's full one. "Gumby, I'm so excited right now I'm about ready to die. You've got ten seconds to do something about it or I'm starting without you."

A second dark eyebrow joined its twin, and Claire allowed herself a few heartbeats to consider just how much fun that would be. Tucking away the thought for later, bright azure eyes twinkled as she expertly flipped Amanda on her back and began peppering her throat with soft kisses. After a moment, small insistent fingers wove their way into thick dark locks, urging Claire downward. Claire's climax had pushed Amanda to the brink herself, and now even the lightest touch from her partner caused her center to flutter and pulse wildly. "Pleeease..., Claire," she begged shamelessly.

Before yielding to her lover's need, Claire stopped and placed a commanding but loving kiss on Amanda's lips, willing her partner to know and understand everything she was feeling inside. And Amanda did, her own heart constricting in response.

Lips finally separated, and Claire gazed at Amanda with a look of such undisguised desire that the smaller woman felt a hot trickle of moisture trail down her inner thighs. She moaned. Hands and mouths were everywhere at once and they celebrated in wild abandon.

Suddenly, Claire's movements gentled and she slowed the frantic pace to worship luscious breasts with unsurpassed tenderness and grace.

Amanda was awash in a sea of vivid sensation, her pulse pounded furiously, and she swore she could hear the rushing of her own blood roaring in her ears. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that the deep keening sound reverberating throughout the room was coming from her, she just didn't care. Small shaking hands urged Claire downward again, and when the addictive scent of Amanda's arousal wafted between them, filling Claire's senses completely, the lawyer let out a gloriously primal growl and made her way to its source.

Love, lust, compassion, humor, need, vulnerability, and strength, were only a few of the things that flowed like water between these women. One drew from the other in a perfect symbiotic rhythm of give and take. It was simple and complicated and utterly right, and both Amanda and Claire spent long hours appreciating what they had, and what they intended to keep.

************************

Claire laid her head on her partner’s chest, listening as the pounding heart beneath her ear slowly resumed its normal beat. "We should do this more often."

Claire felt the body below hers giggle. "Sweetheart, we do this pretty often as is it." The woman's insatiable. Lucky me!

"So?"

"So any more often and we'll have to take the show on the road. We have to work sometime, you know."

"Hey!" Claire exclaimed in mock indignation. "I thought I was working pretty damned hard!"

"And you deserve a promotion! Head body slave then?"

"You mean I was second banana before?''

"Weeell..." Amanda hedged.

"I wasn't even second banana?!"

"That's all in the past." Amanda waived a hand dismissively. "Consider yourself promoted."

Both women laughed, enjoying the easy banter and camaraderie that they'd established almost immediately in their relationship. Each had long since stopped wondering why she would occasionally be assaulted with a curious sense of what Amanda called subliminal recognition and Claire referred to as Deja Vu. After all, it didn't seem so strange now that they were making their own memories.

"Did you have fun at the Mall of America yesterday?" Claire asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Umm…hmm. And I noticed it didn’t kill you to join us," came the sleepy answer. "Too bad Jody decided not to go. Mark seemed really disappointed."

"I know, " Claire agreed. "Do you think they’re fighting? They've both been acting really weird lately."

Amanda furrowed her brow trying to recall any specific instances. "I don’t think so. But you’re right about something being up." She trailed her hand up the soft skin of Claire’s back. "I hope it’s nothing serious. They’re really good for each other. I’ve never seen Jody happier than she’s been these past eight months."

Claire turned her head to kiss the smooth skin below Mandy's cheek, enjoying its salty tang. "I know," she murmured. Marko seems really happy too. I’m glad. He deserves it."

Claire laid her head alongside Amanda’s on the pillow, pale hair mixing with midnight black. "You don’t think Jody’s just using him, do you?"

"What?" Amanda’s protective instincts flared. "What do you mean using him?"

"Well... I mean..." You're on thin ice here, Claire. "I don’t think Mark considers their relationship casual. He hasn’t dated anyone but Jody since they met." The lawyer’s fingertip traced Amanda’s ear, her attention torn between their conversation and the miles of soft skin only a hairsbreadth away.

"Oh." And what could she really say to that? It was something that she had wondered about herself. Not that she thought her friend was intentionally leading Mark on. She didn’t. But more than anyone, Amanda understood Jody’s need for autonomy. Her long time pal wouldn’t even get a goldfish because she didn’t want the responsibility, and Amanda was pretty sure those feelings extended to all areas of her personal life as well. Mark, on the other hand, didn't appear to exist under such a handicap.

A finger poked into the well of the therapist's ear, prompting her to answer. "Uck. Quit it!" She playfully jerked away. "If you’re asking me whether or not Jody is serious about Mark, then the answer is 'I don’t know'. But I do know she cares about him." Amanda grabbed the offending hand and placed a soft kiss on the tip of the probing digit. "I don’t want to see either one of them get hurt." Unable to resist, Amanda slid the finger into the hot recess of her mouth and watched in amazement as Claire’s eyes, already an ethereal shade of violet in the moonlight, visibly darkened.

"Claire, at this very second are you resisting the impulse to kiss me?" she whispered seductively, her voice taking on an almost feline quality.

In a blur of movement the taller woman shot forward and placed a toe-curling kiss on her partner's lips. After a moment she pulled back and smiled broadly. "No."

************************

The young man shifted nervously, his fingers aching from the icy cold. His rants were a mixture of verbal and nonverbal ramblings that echoed in the frigid night air. She's been lead astray by tall good looks. I can fix that. She needs help to see that she was chosen for me and I for her. When I make things right, she'll hear His voice as clearly as I do. I'll guide you, Amanda, don't worry.

Black eyes scanned the house for any signs of movement. He had been watching for days... even before the last counseling session... but no one knew. He was sure of that. The lights had clicked off right at 11:00 p.m. After watching the news no doubt. But that was hours ago and he'd seen no trace of movement since then. It was time. The voice had grown too persistent to ignore.

In nature there is no hesitation. The strong survive and procreate. The weak perish and their seed is obliterated. My seed SHALL NOT DIE. Amanda will be the carrier. Cory stomped his feet in a bid to keep them warm.

Her child will not be allowed to corrupt mine. She is impure, born of fornication and outside holy marriage. But the cleansing fire of blood will set her free. I'll see to that. I would do that for you, my love. But I am patient. Patience is a virtue. I am virtuous. I am righteous.

Cory didn't stop to consider that Amanda's beloved was a respected County Attorney, from a good family, and that Amanda had a loving home and was clearly happy. No one else was good enough for her. Only him. There is only black and white and I am His messenger. Shades of gray are merely an illusion created by the wicked to excuse the damned. In the Lord's eyes their relationship is wrong. It had to be. She was meant for him and no other. Cory understood that the casual, platonic displays of public affection were nothing more than a ruse. I am not stupid. I cannot be deceived.

His thoughts turned to what the lovers did behind closed doors. He closed his eyes and tried to push the evil pictures from his mind, but despite himself, he felt a swelling ache in his groin. His stomach churned. Soon those hands will be my hands. Only mine.

Except for the light crunching of his boots in the snow, Cory's movements were silent. I am a hunter. You are the hunted. As always, he had parked several miles away. There was no car for nosey neighbors to see. He examined the house with care.

Not the front door, that will be locked. But don't think that will keep me out. Cory slid a dark ski mask over his short burr haircut and settled it on his face. Approaching the garage, he pulled a short metal pipe from his bulky winter coat and peered into an eye level window. He looked into total darkness. Next he pulled a towel from his jacket, feeling the chill as the additional warmth left his body.

Car lights shone in the distance and Cory ducked around the side of the garage and leaned up against its wall and waited. His heart was pounding and each shallow breath sent a stream of white fog into the night air. The sweat around his eyes and mouth was beginning to turn to ice. He swept a shaking hand over the mask to remove the forming crystals. When the lights faded into the distance, Cory wrapped the end of the pipe with the towel, doubling the material over several times until the padding was several inches thick.

When he was certain it was safe he returned to the window. With a firm but delicate 'rap' he struck the glass which cracked under the pressure, but didn't break. The towel muffled the sound and bolstered the young man's confidence. Another 'rap' and the glass cracked all the way through, sending a tiny piece clattering onto the garage floor. Warm air poured through the small hole and swirled upward in a billow of steam.

SHIT! Cory hissed. That was not supposed to happen. He stood deathly still, not even breathing, waiting, praying. A hundred heartbeats passed and the only sounds were the wind and trees. Cory let out a shaky breath and began removing the shards of shattered glass from the window frame piece by piece, never letting a single bit fall back onto the garage floor.

When the job was finally finished, he unwrapped the pipe and laid the towel over the edge of the window frame. It would be a tight fit. He'd never been this close before and he didn't realize how small the window was. Making a quick decision he slid off his coat, leaving him clad only in a flannel shirt but greatly reducing his size. I am His messenger. I gladly do His bidding were Cory's last thoughts as he pushed his coat through the window and, with the pipe in hand, slid into the garage.

Gloved hands broke his fall as the slim man slithered down the inner wall of the garage. Even with the glass out of the window, he could feel the increase in temperature and idly admired the heated garage. Bracing himself on a hard metal bumper, he stood and removed his mask and gloves. Turning, he pulled the towel from the window.

What do you ask? Death? The young man began pacing in the garage, not seeming to be in a hurry to enter the house. He cocked his ear toward the sky as if listening but after a few moments his face twisted in rage. Why aren't you answering me! As suddenly as the rage hit, it disappeared, replaced by an eerie calm. Of course, this is a test to see if I've been listening. I have. You won't be disappointed.

Donning his mask and gloves, Cory made his way to the door leading into the house. His gloved hand tightly gripped the knob and he turned it ever so slowly. A light click and a hollow creak sounded through the garage as the door popped open.

Cory stepped into a narrow hallway, his boots softly clicking on the linoleum. The house was darker, the curtained windows blocking out the moonlight. The hallway made an abrupt turn to the right where swinging doors led to a kitchen. Another step and Cory's heavy boot landed on a child's toy. The toy squeaked loudly under his weight and he nearly fell as he stumbled away from it.

"Who's there?" A voice called out from the kitchen.

A little late for a midnight snack isn't it? No matter. Any place is fine. With purposeful strides Cory moved through the hall and pushed open the swinging doors.

"What in the hel..."

WHACK! The steel pipe came down with vicious force, crashing into the lawyer's skull, sending a spray of rich black blood across the white tile. The force of the blow sent the limp body sprawling across the cool tiles and into the kitchen chairs.

"SHE IS MINE!" WHACK! The sickening sound of snapping bones resounded through the kitchen as the pipe struck an arm that lay propped up against a table leg.

Cory's breath was coming in short pants, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. For the first time he noticed that the limp form was completely nude. His eyes roamed over the smooth muscular legs, and his mind flashed back to Amanda and these arms and legs wrapped tightly around her, someone else kissing her, tasting her. Her cries of passion rang out in his mind and he placed his hands over his ears as if to block them out. NO! NO! NO! She was meant for me! She could never enjoy being with you! She is mine!

Cory pulled his mask up uncovering his eyes and looked closely at the blood pooling around the lawyer's head. With a trembling hand he slid off one glove and traced the smooth skin that covered a muscular thigh. He could feel his own excitement growing. He reached down and undid his belt, dropping his pants to his knees. He pulled the limp body toward him, grunting under the strain of dead weight. Matted bloody hair dragged along the kitchen floor leaving a dark liquid trail in its wake. Suddenly, Cory stopped. No. This is part of the test. I won't succumb. I am worthy. I cannot be deceived.

Standing, the young man spat on the still form below and laughed to himself. Too easy. "The strong survive, the weak perish." Cory slipped out of the kitchen and into the living room to finish his task.

************************

RING. RING.

RING. RING.

RING. RING.

An arm snaked out and grabbed the ringing telephone. "Hello," slurred the tired voice.

"Is this Claire Easton?"

Claire rolled off of Amanda and looked at the clock in annoyance. Who calls someone at 6:00 a.m.? "Look, whatever you're selling, you can take it and shove..."

"I'm sorry. I should have identified myself right away. I'm Officer Ryan Pederson from the Minneapolis police department. Am I speaking with Ms. Easton?"

Shit, why do you guys always have to do this crap at the most ungodly hours? It wasn't unusual for the police to call one of the County Attorneys at home when they needed a search warrant right away.

"That's me. Wadda ya need?"

"Do you know a Mark Gustafson?"

Claire rubbed her eyes. "Of course I know Mark. What's the matter, can't he do his own paperwork anymore? Put him on the phone."

Amanda sat up wearily and looked at the clock. Claire held her arm out in invitation and the younger woman immediately wrapped herself around the warm body and closed her eyes again.

"Umm... No ma'am. I'm calling from the United Hospital emergency room in St. Paul. Mr. Gustafson has you listed in his wallet as his next of kin."

"Next of kin!" Claire shouted all traces of sleep having vanished. "What do you mean next of kin?" Her throat went dry. "Are... are you saying Mark's dead?"

Amanda tightly gripped Claire's hand, her own heart in her throat as she waited for her partner to fill her in on the other side of the conversation. Oh God, please let Mark be okay. But the words 'dead' and 'next of kin' were not encouraging.

"No ma'am, I'm not saying that at all. He was wheeled in here about twenty minutes ago, and as far as I know he was alive when they brought him in. I was just told to call his next of kin and according to a card in his wallet you're his emergency contact."

Claire jumped out of bed and began rummaging for something to wear. "What happened?" The lawyer wanted details and she wanted them now.

Amanda thrust a sweatshirt and jeans into Claire's arms and the older woman nodded her thanks.

"Well, I really can't say. I..."

Claire stopped moving and stood to her full height. "Listen Officer Pederson, you GODDAMNED idiot! You'd better start talking! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!"

Amanda cringed knowing her partner was only seconds from an all out fury. She quickly pulled on a pair of sweat pants and grabbed the nearest sweatshirt, not caring whether it was hers or Claire's.

"There was a break-in last night. Some old lady neighbor of Mr. Gustafson's saw a broken window when she got up to take her 'Tums' and called the police."

Ahh... Mrs. Harris, you nosey old hag. "AND?" She shouted impatiently. Amanda reappeared from the closet and clicked on the bedroom light as she handed Claire a pair of short hiking boots.

"And he was found on the kitchen floor unconscious. The ambulance crew thinks he was hit in the head with a baseball bat or club or something. That's all I know, honest." Damn, who is this woman?

"Fine. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Claire didn't wait to hear 'goodbye' before she sat down on the foot of the bed and hung up the phone. She bent over and began tying her shoes with trembling hands as she explained to Amanda what little she knew. With a curse she redid the first knot.

"Here. Let me." Amanda bent down and finished the job.

"Mandy, I need to..."

"I know. I'll get Missy and then collect Jody. We'll meet you at the hospital." Amanda stood and grasped her partner's chin with a gentle hand, tilting her face until they made direct eye contact. "Drive carefully, Gumby. I don't want to be visiting you in the hospital."

Claire nodded and pulled the blonde in for a tight hug. "I'll see you there then," she said against the soft fabric of Amanda's sweatshirt. With a quick kiss Claire disappeared out the bedroom door.

************************

Claire merged slowly onto the dark highway trying to remember the fastest route to the downtown hospital. Leaning over she popped open her glove box and dug around for her faithful-driving companion, Gumby. A frown creased her face when she didn't feel him immediately. She impatiently flung out a small box of tissues that Amanda had insisted were necessary, two road maps, and several frozen catsup packets, before her hands felt the familiar bendable form... and something else. What?

She flipped on the dome light to get a better look at her loyal friend. "Marko, Mandy, you shit heads!" she laughed, happy for the reprieve from the tension that was giving her a pounding headache. Gumby was dressed in a tiny Minnesota Vikings Football jersey, with an odd shaped purple helmet covering his head. It was a gentle jibe from her friends who considered her preference for the Green Bay Packers akin to worshipping Satan.

The lawyer expertly twisted the long green arms around the top of her steering wheel. Her dark head shook. Where did you ever find a jersey and helmet so small? Then Claire remembered their trip to the Mall of America just two days before. Her heart hurt when she thought of her partner and best friend, pale heads tilted together in conspiracy.

"He's gotta be okay, Gumby." Claire felt the bottom of her stomach drop. "Shit, the boys." She mentally calculated which Monday this was, and correctly figured that Keith and Bobby would be with their mother. "That dumb-ass cop would have mentioned them if they'd been at the house or hospital." Okay, okay, they're all right. Relax.

Claire changed lanes decreasing her speed. The closer to downtown she got, the worse the traffic, even at this early hour. "What do ya think, Gumby? Residential or highway? Yeah, you're right." She spoke as if her little green friend had answered. "If I go residential I'll get stuck behind a damned snowplow."

After another ten minutes, she pulled onto the tall brick-parking ramp for the hospital. She stopped at the front gate and rolled her window down to yank a paper ticket from the metal dispenser. Finding a space near the second floor elevators she quickly pulled in and shut off the ignition. Then she sat there, her feet seemingly glued to the floor. Jesus, Claire, get a grip. The cop said he was alive. He'll be okay. Even Marko's not stupid enough to croak a week before a vacation and two weeks before Christmas.

She slowly unbuckled her seatbelt. "Who did this to you, Buddy?" Claire waited for Gumby's answer but none came. She felt a dark sinister anger brewing and did nothing to quell it. It was easier to focus on that rather than the stark pain that accompanied the possibility of losing her oldest friend.

Claire grabbed Gumby and reached over to open the glove box. Her hand hesitated on the knob and then she changed her mind completely, shoving him in the front pocket of her brown leather jacket as she exited the Pathfinder.

The coat had been a gift for her thirty-second birthday from Amanda. She'd never really cared much for leather, but the blonde had seen it while window-shopping and simply had to buy it. Claire smiled at the happy memory as she strode down the enclosed walkway that led into the hospital itself. How could she complain? For some inexplicable reason, the psychologist couldn't seem to keep her hands off her when she wore it. Mental note: buy more leather.

Claire made her way through a large round turnstile and was immediately assaulted by the universal antiseptic 'hospital smell'. Now she couldn't avoid the unhappy thoughts even with visions of Amanda. Emergency room, where are you? Determined blue eyes scanned the seemingly endless array of arrows and signs until she found the one she was looking for. Subconsciously, she increased her pace with every passing step until she was nearly running down the long winding tunnel to the emergency room. Hang on, Buddy. Please.

*************************

"C'mon, Sweetie. Missy, help me out here." The child had fallen asleep on the short drive to Jody’s apartment and her mother was struggling to extricate the sleeping body from the car seat. Goddamned car seats from hell!

With a loud groan Amanda hefted Missy up and settled her face down on her shoulder. She tightened the toddler’s furry, pink hood with her free hand. "There you go, baby. C'mon."

Amanda tried not to stumble as she waded through the knee-deep snow in the apartment parking lot. Looks like the plows haven’t come by yet. No wonder Jody drives that hideous purple beast! Amanda reached for the doorway to the apartment building and hissed when her bare hand nearly stuck to the frozen metal. "Ouch!" I can’t believe I forgot my gloves.

The blonde tugged the handle but the door didn’t move. She jerked it harder but with the same results. Locked.

Shifting her daughter higher on her shoulder Amanda strained her eyes until she located the buzzer marked 'Jody Penbrook'.

BZZZZ. Nothing.

BZZZZ. Still nothing.

"UGH! Jody you'd better not be in the shower." Amanda held her wrist to the glowing yellow light sconce just outside the doorway. 6:35 a.m. You should be getting up about now.

BZZZZ. Ugh!! Answer and BUZZ ME UP!

"Hello," a faint voice crackled.

Amanda was lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet to stay warm. "It’s Amanda and Missy, can you buzz us up?"

"What are…BUZZ…this…CRACKLE…morning?"

"Just let us up! We’re freezing." Missy’s warm rosy cheek was tucked snugly against Amanda’s and the toddler was snoring. Okay so I’m freezing.

CLANK. The door automatically released and Amanda quickly stepped into the dimly lit hallway. No wonder she hates Chester for getting the condo in the divorce. This place sucks.

Halfway down the hallway Amanda stopped. As she raised her hand to knock on the black apartment door, it opened before her hand struck the wood. Jody was standing in the entryway, wearing only a dark green towel.

The shabby exterior gave no hint to the beautiful apartment that lay within. Like her office at the Cornerstone Clinic, her home was filled with treasures and decorations of all shapes and sizes. The baubles and furnishings ranged from the downright odd to resolutely classical.

"What are you guys doing here so early?" Jody moved out of the doorway, allowing the two blondes to enter.

"Whoa. It’s really warm in here. How do you stand it?" Amanda commented nervously as she laid Missy on the couch. I do not want to tell her this.

Jody bent down and tugged away the corner of Missy’s hood to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hiya, Kiddo," she greeted softly.

The short-haired brunette straightened and turned serious caramel eyes on her friend. When Amanda was anxious or upset it was always painfully obvious. "What’s wrong?"

The younger woman shifted uncomfortably and unzipped her jacket. "Jody there’s been accident… sort of."

"Is it Claire?"

"No." Thank God. Amanda felt a flash of guilt over her relief that it was Mark, not Claire, lying in the hospital. "It’s Mark. Someone broke into his house last night and somehow he got hurt. The police found him unconscious this morning and called us from the emergency room at United Hospital."

"Is he…?" Jody wasn't able to finish the words before her face went ashen.

Amanda stepped closer to her business partner. "No… at least I don’t think so. He was alive when they brought him in."

The taller woman stood deathly still, her short dark hair dripping into her eyes.

This was not the reaction Amanda was expecting from her sometimes-explosive friend. "Jody?"

The stocky counselor’s pallor shifted from gray to doughy white.

Crap! She’s gonna pass out. "Sit down," Amanda insisted, immediately easing her friend onto the couch. "Are you okay?"

"No… I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna…" Amanda’s face was beginning to turn fuzzy and a creeping darkness started to invade Jody's peripheral vision.

"No. You’re not." Amanda laid her palms on her friend’s and forced her to focus. "Take deep breaths and relax. Put your head between your knees. That’s right," she soothed.

Amanda knelt in front of Jody, never removing the supportive contact. Jody concentrated on the heat from the warm palms and took several calming breaths. The blonde smiled reassuringly when her friend’s color began to improve and her breathing evened out.

"I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened I…" Jody started to babble uncharacteristically.

Amanda got off her knees and squashed herself into the small space between Jody and the end of the sofa. "It’s okay. But we need to go, Jody. I don’t know how serious this is."

Jody nodded and moved into the bedroom to get dressed. Less than thirty seconds later, she confidently strode out of the room wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a heavy cotton shirt. Her dark wavy hair was combed neatly in place and she was shoving her car keys in her front pocket. She shot Amanda an irritated look. "What are we waiting for?" Jody bent down, scooped up Missy, and headed for the door.

The younger woman didn't hide her startled reaction to the transformation. Just like Claire, she thought. She’s all lion on the outside, all pussycat on the inside. I just hope, for all our sakes, Mark is all right.

*************************

Claire sat at the edge of Mark's bed and smiled down at her best friend. Marks left arm was in a cast that stretched from his shoulder to his wrist. His head was wrapped in so many layers of gauze that she wondered why they'd bothered stopping the mummification process at all.

"You look like shit, Marko!"

Hazel eyes rolled toward blue. "Thanks a lot pal, I love you too," the bass voice rumbled a little softer than usual.

No more needed to be said. They loved each other and they both knew it.

"'Bout time you woke up."

"Hmm. How could I sleep with all that yelling going on outside my door. You, I take it?"

"Hell, yes it was me. The doctors and then the police weren't being as... forthcoming with information as they should have been. They just needed a little motivation, that's all."

Mark shifted his cast to his stomach, trying to get comfortable. When that didn't work, he muttered a few curse words and laid it back in the exact same spot as before. "So you kicked ass and took names?"

The brunette smiled sheepishly. "Basically."

"Hey, you brought Gumby." The big attorney pointed at the green rubber man whose head was sticking out of Claire's pocket. "He's a Viking now!" he asserted proudly.

"You... Keep your big dumb paws off of Gumby or I'll break your other arm." Claire gave Mark the look that made hostile witnesses pee their pants and he brushed it off without a second thought.

"But you let Amanda play with him," he whined. "I've seen her!"

Claire smirked, her eyebrow arching to its highest level. "Amanda gets to play with all my toys. You don't."

"Tell me about it," the blonde mumbled.

Claire's smirk shifted to a worried smile. With her fingertips she gently traced his bandage. "How ya doin'?"

"Great," he answered with a little too much zeal.

"Are you nuts? Why are you so happy? You could have been..." For the first time Claire took a good look into dazed hazel eyes. Ahh. Feeling no pain. "Good drugs, huh?"

"Umm...Hmm." He flashed her a toothy grin and surprised her by pulling her down with his good hand and kissing her full on the lips. At that very moment Amanda, Jody and Missy walked in the room.

"Ahhheeem," Jody cleared her throat loudly. "I see you're not dead," she said sarcastically.

Mark’s faced creased into a boyish smile. Jody, my sweet. Come here so I can kiss you too!

Thank God you're okay you stupid... giant... giant... gorgeous... ahhh! The muscular psychologist stepped up to the foot of the bed to examine her friend. Mark was lying under a thin Pepto-Bismol pink blanket. His large bare feet hung over the edge of the too short hospital bed and an angry purple bruise crept its way out from under his stark white bandage. His eyes were glassy and red and strands of his nearly shoulder length dishwater hair were poking out from underneath his bandage in odd directions. "You look like shit, Marko!"

The tall man's smile broadened even further, showing off deep dimples. That's my girl.

"That's what I said!" Claire exclaimed as she Mark and Jody burst out laughing. Mark immediately reached for his head and moaned through his chuckles.

They're all mad! Amanda thought. But she found herself smiling along with the rest of them nonetheless. She knew Jody and Claire had just been through the wringer and was glad that their natural humor was already reasserting itself. Amanda watched as Claire covertly laid a reassuring hand over Jody’s before quickly moving it away. What is it about those brooding brunettes that I can’t resist? she wondered. Amanda smiled her hello to Mark.

"Cwairrr," Missy squealed and scrambled out of Amanda's arms to see the lawyer.

Claire bent down and nuzzled the child's neck, tickling her with kisses. "How are you this morning, Pumpkin?"

Amanda's ears perked up at the endearment her father used, and she felt a fierce rush of affection at seeing her child and lover together. The woman who could make juries weep with her elegant speeches and criminals confess rather than face her in court, plainly worshipped the ground her child walked on. It was a paradox she found intriguing and endlessly appealing.

When Claire straightened, Missy threw her arms up in a bid to be held. Her mother moved forward to take the toddler but the taller woman shook her off with a grin and scooped up the delighted child.

If it weren’t for the fact that you look like night and day, no one would suspect you weren’t her mother, Amanda happily mused.

Once secure in Claire’s arms, Missy could see who was lying in the bed. "Marko!" she screamed.

Mark cringed at the shrill sound.

Amanda shot Jody and Claire an evil look and shook a motherly finger at them both. "She’d better not repeat the rest of what you said."

The injured attorney decided to jump in and rescue his friends, who were now staring guilty at their shoes. "Hi, Missy," he rumbled.

At the sound of her favorite "uncle’s" voice, Missy began to squirm in Claire’s arms in an effort to get closer to the bed. "No, Missy," Claire admonished gently. "Uncle Mark is hurt so you need to stay with me and be very quiet. Okay?"

The little girl’s mossy green eyes turned round and watery and her bottom lip poked out and began to quiver. Nononononono! She looks just like, Mandy when she does that. Please don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry. Claire looked over to Amanda in desperation but the blonde just rolled her eyes.

"She has you so pegged, Gumby." Amanda faced Missy and spoke sternly. "Claire said no and she meant it." The tears stopped immediately.

Claire’s eyebrows shot into her hairline and her jaw dropped to her chest in an expression so comical both Jody and Mark diverted their eyes and turned their heads so Claire wouldn’t see their sniggers.

I... I can't believe it! "She does that to me on purpose?" And I fell for it? You little sneak! Claire took a deep breath, ready to accuse Amanda of teaching Missy such treachery, but before she could speak the door opened and a petite, extremely attractive doctor strolled in.

"My name is Dr. Musa." Her voice was colored by a rich African accent and she approached Mark with a blindingly white smile. "How are you feeling, Mr. Gustafson?"

"My head is starting to hurt," Mark replied bluntly.

Dr. Musa picked up the chart from the foot of the bed and gave it a quick once over. "Of course it does. You have a severe concussion," she replied equally bluntly. Reaching into the pocket of her crisply starched lab coat, she pulled out a small penlight and shone it into Mark's eyes. "You are quite lucky that the blow was only glancing." She clicked off the light. "Your skull is not fractured."

For the first time since she arrived, the doctor directed her attention someplace other than Mark. Chocolate eyes quickly flittered over Jody and Amanda but lingered over Claire in open appraisal.

Amanda frowned and wrapped her arm tightly around Claire’s waist in an act of possession that clearly stated, "MINE." The black orbs drew back to Amanda's where they held for a timeless second and a silent message was conveyed. Then, with an almost imperceptible nod, the doctor's eyes dropped to floor as she moved toward the head of the bed.

Shifting Missy, Claire leaned down and whispered into her mate's ear. "Why don't you just piss on me, Mandy? It might be more effective."

"Watch it, smartass." Amanda whispered back, adding a pinch to Claire's butt for good measure. "Considering where your lips were when I walked in, I'll be marking my territory anyway I choose, thank you very much. Poor Mark," she snorted. "He probably won't even remember it tomorrow." The frown came back. "Did you talk to the police?"

Claire nodded and fished Gumby out of her pocket for Missy to play with. "Yeah, but I still have a few more questions. I'll fill you in at home." Claire looked over at Jody. "Is Jody gonna be okay?" The darker therapist was sitting in a recliner several feet from Mark's bed with a worried expression on her face.

"I think this scared the crap out of her. But yeah, she'll be fine."

Claire thought for a moment about how she'd feel if it were Mandy in that bed, bandaged and hurt. I'd be going out of my mind. "I love you," she said suddenly.

Amanda's arms circled both Claire and Missy in a warm hug, understanding the spoken and unspoken words of the declaration. "I love you too."

"You should be resting," the doctor smoothly informed her patient as she laid a cold stethoscope on his chest.

"I'm not tired," Mark protested, even as his eyes were closing.

Satisfied with the results of her cursory examination Dr. Musa replaced Mark's chart on the hook at the foot of the bed and addressed the woman who had sent the emergency room into a tizzy when they weren't quick enough in answering her questions. "He'll need to stay here for at least the next 24-48 hours, assuming the results of his CAT scan show no hemorrhaging. Could I speak with you ladies outside in the hallway?" She looked pointedly at Claire and Amanda, apparently unconcerned with Jody who was sitting so quietly. "He needs to rest now, and I'd like to give you some instructions for his future care."

The doctor made a motion toward the door then marched out of the crowded room, clearly expecting the women to follow her. Claire and Amanda exchanged 'a look' and followed on the heels of the small woman, intent on giving Jody and Mark a few moments alone together.

When the door shut behind them Jody walked over to the big man and laid a sloppy kiss on his cheek. His lips twitched at the contact. "You're coming back, aren't you?" came the nearly inaudible request.

Jody felt a lump forming in her throat and coughed awkwardly, trying not to cry. "Course I am, ya idiot. I'm just gonna go see what the doctor has to say, then I'll be right back."

Mark grasped her hand tightly but didn't open his eyes. "Promise."

Oh... boy. This is gonna be worse than I thought. "Yeah, I promise." She sighed. I need to have that talk with Amanda... soon.

************************

"Do you really think he’s well enough to come with us?" Amanda spoke with her back to Claire as she reached into a kitchen drawer and sifted through the neat compartments that held knives, spoons, and forks. She pulled out four of each and a smaller, soft-edged spoon that had an easy-grip handle for Missy.

"I dunno." Claire shrugged and began rooting through the cabinets. "He seems to be feeling better. He showed up at work today raring to go, as always. Besides, we don't leave for another few days." She paused, as if truly considering her next words. "That should be enough time for him to get back on his feet." Why don't the delivery people bring napkins with your order? "At least we won't have to go on one of Mark's cross country skiing marathons." Friggin' Scandinavians! "Doctor Musa told him no heavy-duty exercise for a couple of weeks." Losing all patience, Claire began pulling out every single can and laying them on the countertop.

Amanda turned around to the sound of metal hitting metal. Green eyes widened at the sight of the messy, growing can pyramid forming on the countertop. Pale brows knit in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Claire blew out an exasperated breath. "Did you buy any napkins?"

Ah... ha. "No."

"But..."

The psychologist arched a challenging eyebrow. "You and Missy went to the store yesterday while I stayed home and did the laundry. Did you buy any napkins?"

Oh yeah... Shit. Claire scowled, and Amanda chuckled triumphantly, debating whether or not to rub it in.

'Bout time it wasn't me. When I forgot your damn Pop Tarts I heard about it for a week! Amanda gloated silently, allowing her smirk to speak for itself.

A sheepish smile tugged at Claire's lips. "I'll pick them up tomorrow," she offered apologetically.

Amanda sighed dramatically, as though it would be such a hardship to wait until then. With a twinkle in her eye, the blonde sashayed over to her mate. Stepping close, she laid her palms flat on Claire's chest, enjoying the feeling of soft, warm cotton under her fingertips.

"I suppose I'll forgive you... this once," she added for good measure, raising a saucy eyebrow.

Claire narrowed her eyes at her partner. "You are such a brat."

"Am not," Amanda protested weakly, knowing it to be true, but enjoying herself nonetheless.

"Are too."

"Am..."

RING... RING...

Saved by the bell. Amanda pushed off the tall smiling body, and made her way to the swinging kitchen door just as Missy came barreling in from the den. The toddler was wearing pair of bright green overalls that matched her eyes.

The little girl came to a screeching halt in front of her mother, her own momentum nearly propelling her past her target. "Can I have a dwink peease?" she panted.

Amanda smiled and nodded, pointing a finger toward the refrigerator as she left the room.

RING... RING...

Claire bent down to Missy's level and opened the fridge. Two heads, one dark and one fair peered inside. Both, simultaneously, hummed indecisively. "Hmmmmmmm???"

"Wadda you think, Kiddo? Milk or juice?"

"Pepsi."

"SSSHHHHHH!" Claire immediately clamped her hand over Missy's mouth. "Do you want your Mama to kill me?" she whispered. Claire looked toward the wooden doors, which were still slightly swinging, to see if Amanda had heard. She was nowhere in sight. A warm wet sensation drew her attention back to Missy. "Hey… Yuck!" The lawyer wiped a healthy dose of toddler slobber off her hand. The child did not appreciate being silenced. Just like her mother, Claire mused.

"You know you're not supposed to have soda," she said for the benefit of prying ears as she reached for the 2-liter bottle. "It's not good for you." Claire rolled her eyes and ducked into the refrigerator. She gave the bottle a firm twist and it dutifully hissed. Feeling a little like the Pink Panther, she hid behind the large steel door, blue eyes peeking around the shiny barrier every so often to make certain the coast was clear. It was.

Claire quickly moved to the cabinet and retrieved a small yellow sipper cup. "Okay, just a little," the attorney said in a hushed voice. Louder she said, "Enjoy your juice."

Amanda searched wildly for the phone. Where is it? Why is the phone always off its cradle? The ringing sound was fairly strong so Amanda quickly disregarded the thought of digging in the couch cushions. Coffee table? No. End table? No.

RING...

Recliner? Yes! Amanda grabbed the phone so fast she bobbled it in her hands before holding it securely enough to press the 'on' button. "Hello."

There was a long silence. "Hello," Amanda repeated.

"Oh, excuse me, I’m afraid I may have dialed the wrong number." The low female voice sounded faintly confused and oddly familiar. "Is this the Easton residence?"

"Yes." Amanda’s curiosity was piqued. "Would you like to speak with Claire?"

Obviously. "Please."

Amanda couldn’t resist. "May I asked who's calling?"

"Oh… I’m sorry, of course. I’m Claire’s mother, Anne Easton."

Silence... Amanda stared dumbly at the phone. Wow. No one from Claire’s family has ever called.

The silence was broken by Missy’s happy laughter as she bolted out of the kitchen, toward the den and her video, sipper cup in hand.

Anne listened carefully to the sounds in the background. A child? I know I haven’t talked to Claire in a while but I think even ‘Miss tight lips’ would have bothered to mention a child. "Dear, are you still there?"

"Yes… um… I’m… I mean… I’ll get Claire."

"May I ask to whom I’m speaking," the voice requested in a firm but polite tone.

"This is Amanda. I’ll go get Claire. Just a moment please," she answered quickly, biting her tongue to keep from tacking "Ma’am" onto the end of her sentence.

Amanda pushed open the wooden swinging door to find Claire sitting on the kitchen countertop, happily munching on a handful of nacho chips. When their eyes met, Amanda was surprised by the immediate guilty smile that twitched at her friend’s lips. What'd you do now, you fink?

The blonde pressed the 'mute' button and moved to join Claire, standing between the lawyer's dangling legs. She held up the phone. "It's for you." Claire hastily swallowed the bite she was chewing and reached out. "It's your mother."

Amanda waited for a reaction from her partner. She didn't get one. While the grin did slide from Claire's face, it was replaced by a look of bored indifference. Eyes, eyebrows, facial muscles, none of them betrayed a single emotion.

The taller woman pushed herself off the cabinet, the impact of her feet causing a flat thudding sound on the tile floor. Amanda handed the lawyer the phone and turned to leave, intent on allowing Claire some private time to speak with her mother. She had barely moved an inch when Claire surprised her once again, by wrapped an arm around the smaller woman's waist and pulling her close, preventing her from leaving. Amanda raised a questioning eyebrow and pointed to her feet, silently asking if she should stay.

Please stay. Claire smiled beseeching as she nodded and pressed 'mute'.

Amanda sank into the embrace. Like I'd ever be able to resist that face. Like I'd want to.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Claire. I'm glad I caught you at home. It's been a while since you've called. I was starting to wonder if you'd lost our telephone number."

Amanda winced. Ouch! Sarcasm. Claire leaned back against the cabinet, her head resting snugly atop Amanda's. Both Judge Easton and her daughter had clear commanding voices, allowing Amanda to hear every word of both sides of the conversation from her current position. You're gonna get it now, Gumby.

Claire sighed. "I'm sorry, Mom. You're right, I know it's been a long time. But the phone lines do run both ways."

There was a slight pause and then the echo of Claire's sigh. "I know, they do, dear. Your father and I just assumed you were busy with your new position."

A dark eyebrow arched to its highest position as Claire shook with Amanda's silent giggles. Heh. That's closer to correct than you realize, Mom. But what's more likely is that one morning you looked at the calendar and realized you hadn't spoken to your daughter, who lives all of fifteen miles away, in the past six months. "I have been working very hard lately." Claire rolled her eyes when Amanda nodded in confirmation.

"Your father was surprised when we didn't see you at some of the more important social events this season."

That's because I've got better things to do with my time than schmooze, network, and generally kiss ass. Claire tilted her head down and kissed the soft hair of one of the 'better things'. "I just didn't feel the need..." She paused. Why not just tell her the truth? "...Nor did I have the slightest desire to attend." Claire almost thought she heard a faint chuckling sound on the other end of the phone.

"That's fine, dear. It's not as though the County Attorney's Office runs on referrals now, is it? I'm certain that if the public knew the repulsive amount of brown-nosing required at those events, they would find the customary thirty-three percent attorney contingency fee quite reasonable."

Did my mother actually try to make a joke?

Amanda pulled away from Claire with a surprised but delighted look on her face. "Did she just say brown-nosing?" she mouthed silently. I don't even think my mom would know what that is, she thought as she snuggled back into the tall, warm body.

Claire nodded and couldn't help the small grin that threatened to break out. She knew her mother had a razor sharp wit and wry sense of humor. Unfortunately, years would literally pass between the instances when Anne Easton would share that part of herself with her daughter.

"You're right about that, Mom, " Claire laughed lightly.

Then an awkward silence crackled across the phone lines, both women wanting the other to begin a normal conversation. Amanda could feel the tension beginning to build in her partner. It was, however, Claire's mother who capitulated first.

Okay, Annie. Buck up. This is why you called, after all. "I've been thinking about you lately, wondering what's happening with you, what's going on in your life."

Claire's jaw dropped to her chest. Amanda smiled and used her index finger to shut her partner's mouth with an audible 'click'. "You... You have?" the brunette sputtered.

At that moment Missy reappeared in the kitchen with her empty cup. She marched across the room and stood in front of her mother and Claire. "Can I have some more Pepsi, Cwaire? Peeeassssee," the toddler begged.

Green eyes turned to Claire and narrowed dangerously. She let her partner stew for all 3 seconds before relenting with a smile and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Then she looked down at the pathetic begging child. Amanda's hands went to rest on her hips. "No more pop for you. That only works with Claire." She waggled her finger. "How about some juice instead?" Missy nodded happily and grasped onto her mother's hand, pulling her toward the refrigerator. "In order for that 'look' to be successful it's very important not to overuse it..." Amanda whispered instructively.

Claire gazed at the two blondes affectionately, jumping when the voice in her ear began talking again.

"That sounded like a child's voice."

No use in beating around the bush now. "That's because it is a child's voice. Her name is Missy."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had guests visiting. I can call back another time."

"Missy isn't a guest. This is her home, along with her mother's," Claire answered smoothly. Although she hadn't directly addressed the issue of her preferences with her parents, she never did anything to hide it either. If her parents were aware of her lifestyle or with whom she choose to spend her free time, they didn't acknowledge it.

Amanda finished tightening the cap on Missy's cup and gave her lover a ghost of a wink.

"I see. And was that Missy's mother who answered the phone?" So the Gustafsons were right. Mark's mother is such a gossip.

Claire's eyebrows disappeared behind dark bangs. "Yes, that was Amanda." I just told her they're living here and she's not even surprised?

"Well, I guess I'll need to amend my invitation to include them as well then."

Oh God, please don't let it be to some horrible society function! "Invitation?" Claire tried to keep her voice polite and hopeful, but the laughing in her ear told her she had failed miserably.

"Relax, dear. It's nothing that will require your 'game face'. I was simply hoping we could get together for lunch."

"Why?" Claire asked flatly. She knew it was blunt to the point of being rude, but Claire hated playing games. She always had. "I can't even remember the last time we did that," she lied. She remembered their last lunch together in vivid detail.

Her mother had taken her out to celebrate passing the Bar exam. It had been just the two of them at a small outdoor cafe overlooking the Mississippi River. If Claire closed her eyes she could still smell the fragrant summer breeze, the cool dark water, and see the honest look of pride shining in her mother's eyes. That afternoon, they had laughed and talked in a way they never had before. Although well into her twenties at the time, Claire marked it as the only occasion she had ever had her mother's undivided attention. It was a sweet memory, in an almost nonexistent relationship. But that was almost six years ago, and since then, their relationship had consisted of little more than a kiss on the cheek at formal parties and the occasional quick phone call.

Amanda shooed Missy out of the kitchen with a kiss and stepped back into the attorney's warm embrace, frowning at the melancholy look that stole across the lawyer's face. Small hands softly stroked Claire's back, and she felt her partner's tension ease almost immediately.

Anne shifted uncomfortably hoping this conversation wouldn't turn into an argument. "Blunt as always, Claire..." she said curtly. But then her commanding tone relaxed, and the older Easton allowed her voice to soften and take on added warmth. "Lucky for you, I find that obnoxious characteristic one of your more endearing qualities."

Claire snorted at the surprising jibe and immediately slapped her hand over her offending mouth. Amanda wasn't so fortunate. Her laugh escaped full force, spraying Claire's neck with saliva.

Eeww. Gross. Green eyes looked up sheepishly and Amanda mouthed a silent "I'm sorry" as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Claire gave a good-natured shrug and wiped her neck.

"Unless you've developed another set of lungs, dear, I can only assume that's Amanda's breathing I hear."

Amanda buried her head in Claire's shirt, wishing she could crawl up into a little ball and disappear. Claire gave her blushing lover a hard smack on the rump causing a tiny 'yelp' to escape against the fabric of her shirt. "Yep, that's Amanda. It seems she has trouble keeping quiet sometimes." Claire wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Claire!" Amanda whispered fiercely.

"Well, put this Amanda person on the phone so I can speak with her myself."

The pale head against Claire's chest began vigorously shaking 'no.' Claire smirked. "Suuure," she drawled. "Here she is." The lawyer extended the phone to Amanda who narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, but took the phone.

Amanda straightened her posture and got serious. "Hello, Mrs. Easton. This is Amanda. You wanted to speak with me?"

"It seems I've already been speaking to you."

Amanda's eyes widened. She said Claire was blunt? "I... um... I..."

"I'm glad. I'd like to meet Claire's housemates. At least now I can be sure that you received your invitation to join me for lunch next week. Feel free to bring along your daughter and if you could possibly drag my daughter with you, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Amanda smiled and grabbed the bull by the horns. At least one of us should be on speaking terms with her mother. "That sounds great. We could... Oops. I'm sorry, actually we'll be out of town next week. How about the following Sunday? You could come over here around noon. Missy's a little young for the restaurant scene."

Good. "I'll be there."

"Okay... we'll see you then," Amanda finished.

"Goodbye, Claire." The wry note in Judge Easton's voice was clear.

It was Claire's turn to blush at being caught eavesdropping. Are all mothers psychic? The attorney cleared her throat nervously. "Goodbye, Mom."

Amanda pressed the 'off' button and twirled the phone in her hands. "You're mom seems really nice. I'm already looking forward to meeting her in person." The psychologist turned and began picking up the silverware she'd selected earlier.

Claire ambled across the kitchen and pulled open a drawer under the microwave stand. She grabbed a thick phone book, opening it to a section that Amanda had ingeniously marked with red tabs. "Italian?" she queried.

Amanda shook her head.

"Mexican?"

The blonde tightly scrunched up her face. "We had that yesterday."

"Chinese?" This one's the winner. The grin that split Amanda's face let Claire know she was right. "Okay, I'll order an assortment."

"Don't forget..."

"I know, extra sauce and fortune cookies."

Amanda cocked her head to the side and regarded her partner. She sighed happily. "I love you."

The older woman walked back over to Amanda and leaned down to rest her forehead against Amanda's. "I love you too, Mandy." Tilting her chin forward, she sealed the declaration with a sweet kiss, which Amanda eagerly returned.

When the kiss ended they remained in a casual embrace, each woman's arms wrapped loosely around the other's waist. Amanda blinked twice, trying not to drown in the mirthful blue ocean. "Honey, I didn't even know your mother knew we were a couple."

"She doesn't. Or, at least, I don't think she does."

"What?!!" Amanda's good mood evaporated.

Claire laced her fingers behind Amanda's back. She understood why the younger woman was upset. But her mother's disapproval wouldn't mean the same thing that Amanda's mother's did. Claire had long since outgrown the need, and very nearly the want, of her parents' approval -- not that she didn't appreciate it when she got it. She did. It's just that the nature of their relationship had always been formal and distant, and Claire couldn't picture either of her parents' feelings on the subject making much of a difference in her life, one way or the other.

"She'll love you," Claire reassured. Not that you'll get a whole lot out of it. My mother is many things, but stupid is not one of them. You make me happy like no one ever has or will. And if that isn't good enough... to hell with her."

"But... But..."

"But what, Mandy?" Claire interrupted. "She'll stop talking to me?" The attorney's voice was teasing, and had she been speaking to anyone else they would have completely missed the tinge of bitterness, but mostly sadness, that colored her words.

"But I don't wanna cause of a rift between you and your mother."

"You wouldn't be the cause. Am I the reason you're estranged from your mother?"

"Of course not!" Amanda answered quickly, realizing she'd just made Claire's point for her. "But it hurts... and... I don't want that for you." The anguished words pierced Claire heart like a knife.

"I know you don't, Mandy." She pulled the therapist close and nuzzled soft fair hair. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Your sorry excuse for a mother better never show her face around here.

Amanda squeezed her eyes tightly shut. I will not cry! This has nothing to do with my mother. We're talking about Claire's mother. But the tears came anyway, and Amanda sank into the strong arms, gladly absorbing all the comfort they offered. "We'll never do that to Missy," she said after a moment.

Claire exhaled loudly blowing strands of red-gold hair away from her mouth. "Never," she swore as the churning in her guts began to fade and Amanda pulled away to wipe her eyes.

The psychologist smiled a crooked smile. "I thought we were talking about your mother. How did things get turned around?"

Before Claire could answer, Missy reappeared in the kitchen, buck-naked, swinging her empty cup around. I hope that at least some of that juice made it into Missy. "Are you ready to see Jody and Mark?" she asked the squirming child.

Missy shook her head enthusiastically.

Claire bent down and poked the bare tummy. "Aren't you gonna wear clothes?"

Missy shook her head again, enjoying Claire's questioning.

"Okay, fine with me," Claire shrugged.

Amanda pinched her partner. "Well, it's not fine with me. Let's go upstairs and find you something to wear. Would you like to wear a pretty dress?"

"No. Tights SUCK," the toddler declared stubbornly.

Both women's eyes widened and Amanda went into full mom mode.

"Missy! 'SUCK' is not a nice word for little girls to say!"

Claire cringed at Amanda's tone, wondering how long she had until the scolding turned to her.

"Claire," the blonde growled.

Not long. The attorney snatched up the child and immediately headed out of the kitchen door. "You just relax, Mandy. I'll get Missy dressed."

"You're still busted, Gumby!" Amanda called after the retreating forms, trying not to laugh until they were both out of sight. Tights do suck!

************************

IMPOSSIBLE! She wouldn't do that! She's not one of them. Cory covered his ears to drown out the blaring voice that was growing louder and louder. STOP!! STOP!! ENOUGH! He fell to his knees weeping piteously. "I WILL!" he finally cried, causing the incessant voice to stop cold.

Thank you, thank you. Cory lay in the middle of his apartment floor, curled in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. His body was slick with sweat and his hands were shaking, although one was still tightly gripping the tire iron he'd used to destroy everything within his reach. Thank you for stopping, thank you. Yes, I will. I will.

The apartment had been demolished. His television was strewn across the carpet in hundreds of jagged pieces. The stuffing had been torn out of the dingy brown couch, which was turned on its side. Not a single picture remained on the wall or book in the small metal bookshelf. His two hundred-gallon fish tank sat hollow and shattered, tiny iridescent rocks covering surfaces all the way across the room. The fish had long since stopped their helpless flopping, and now lay lifeless and stinking.

An enormous bright orange goldfish lay several inches from Cory's face. It's dead glassy eyes drilled into him relentlessly. The voice that had been hounding him and pushing him to the point of desperation was coming from the fish! Wide-eyed and trembling, Cory scrambled to his feet.

"NONONONONNONO! I WILL. I WILL," he cried as snot and saliva ran down his chin. "But I can't think until you stop talking!"

In confusion, he began beating the already dead carcass with his tire iron. With every hit he reaffirmed his devotion to Him and only Him, even as he tried to extinguish His words.

"The major Christian denominations are a perversion of The True Faith. I cannot be deceived," he yelled as the tire iron missed the hapless fish. "I am righteous." This time, he hit the fish square in the belly, staining his pants with fish guts and blood. "I serve You and You alone!" Another hit and another, not stopping until the fish was nothing more than a mushy, smelly stain.

"Even as Sodom and Gomorrah, and the cities about them in like manner, give themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire." He chanted silently, over and over.

Finally, when he couldn't lift his arm for another strike he dropped the tire iron. His forearms burned and he had to use his free hand to pry the metal from his grip. All of them should die. I know she led you astray, but you're too far gone now. You're not fit for my seed! Bitch! he seethed. Godless Bitch! I loved you. You were meant for me, not some perversion!

Cory’s fury seemed to drain from his mind as he truly considered harming Amanda. I don't want to kill you but He commands it! I must obey!

"But no more mistakes," he muttered. It had taken all of the considerable will power He had bestowed upon him to keep from killing every last one of them at the hospital. He'd gone to comfort Amanda over the death of her boyfriend, only to see her in the arms of a tall brunette woman. Now I see it clearly. They are both deviants, an affront to Him. They must be obliterated along with their progeny.

Ignoring the devastation of his apartment, Cory headed into the kitchen to fix dinner. Some woman should be doing this for me! Maybe Jody Penbrook will do… she has my coloring. I am His Chosen. He has a special mate in mind for me. Amanda must have been a test! I cannot be deceived! Yes, maybe Jody. Cory opened the freezer. I wonder if I have any fish sticks?

************************

"Man, these garlic wings and that fried shrimp…" he pointed to a nearly empty white box, "are awesome," Mark commented around a large bit of food.

Amanda's eyes rolled back in her head with a look that could only be described as orgasmic. "I know, I know," she agreed as she swallowed her last bite and leaned back heavily into the sofa. Their plan to wrangle Mark into cooking had been discarded after his injury and Amanda was inordinately pleased that Mark was enjoying his dinner. She still felt a little guilty over her idea to trick the big man.

Jody and Claire watched in amusement as the blondes consumed easily two to three times what they themselves had just eaten. Jody stood and picked up her plate. "If you two are finished making pigs of yourself..."

"Oink...Oink...Oink," Claire chimed in, causing Amanda and Mark to chuckle.

"...I'll clear away some of this stuff," the older psychologist finished. "Then I'll go upstairs to make sure Missy is covered up; it's a little chilly tonight."

Amanda smiled her thanks.

Claire got up and starting picking up the empty paper containers that littered the coffee table. "I'll help, Jody. I don't think either of these two can move."

Mark patted his full belly and leaned back, with a smile. "Amanda, I see you've finally trained Claire."

"It wasn't easy, Mark," Amanda played along. "I'm afraid I've had to resort to some rather corporal forms of punishment." She flicked her wrist at Claire as though she was cracking a whip.

Mark crossed his beefy arms across his chest and smirked at the other attorney, whose face had turned a lovely shade of crimson and whose eyes were staring daggers at Amanda.

"You two are sick," Jody announced as she gathered up the remaining cartons, and marched into the kitchen with Claire hot on her heels.

As soon as they left the room, Mark and Amanda 'high-fived' each other and propped their feet up on the coffee table.

"Really, Amanda, the place looks great." Mark made a broad sweeping gesture with his good arm. "With you and Missy here I would have thought the place would be twice as difficult to keep clean. What's your secret?"

Amanda looked a little guilty and she scratched her jaw. She looked toward the kitchen and, seeing no sign of Claire, she leaned in toward Mark and lowered her voice. "I hired a cleaning service to come in twice a week."

The tall attorney started scratching his wrist where his cast stopped.

"And she doesn't know about it?"

"Sure she knows. She just doesn't want you guys to know. She thinks it's pretentious."

"Why? God knows she can afford it. Her 'modest' trust and her few years in corporate law made her more money than she'll make in the next fifteen years at the County Attorney's Office."

"It's not just the money. You..."

"No wonder my ears were burning," Claire said as she reemerged from the kitchen with Jody. "Telling tales out of school again, Marko?"

Mark brought his fingers to his lips and made a twisting motion. With a flick of his wrist he threw away the imaginary key.

"Fat chance of that happening," Claire teased as she sat down on the other side of Amanda. Jody took a seat across from her friends on the couch and changed the subject.

"So, are we all set for Monday?"

Amanda nodded. "Yep. Everything is ready at the cabins. You guys are gonna love them. I haven't been up there in years, but I'm sure they'll be just the same."

"Do we need to bring any space heaters. I know it's sometimes hard to keep those places warm this time of year."

Amanda chewed the inside of her lip. She was hoping the subject wouldn't come up until they were on their way. "Well... I don't think we'll need heaters... I mean they both have really nice fireplaces..."

Claire arched an inquiring eyebrow. "And what aren't you telling us?"

"What do you mean?" Amanda tried to play innocent.

"She means you’d better spill your guts, Amanda. You are the worst liar in the history of the world." Jody, Mark and Claire all leaned in toward Amanda. "Well?" Jody insisted.

"It's really nothing. There's plenty of wood already chopped and a nice wood burning stove for our meals."

"Holy shit!" Claire exclaimed. "There's no electricity, is there?"

Uh Oh. Amanda winced. "Not technically."

"What the hell does 'not technically' mean...?"

Amanda sighed and bit the bullet. "It means there's no electricity and that it's heated completely by wood. But there's a working gas generator for a detachable heater in case of emergencies. And our cell phones will work 'cause of the new tower they put up in Twin Harbors," she added quickly.

"Just great."

"Fantastic."

"Swell."

"C'mon guys," the blonde woman encouraged. "It'll be an adventure. We're supposed to be getting away from our everyday stresses."

"I never considered not freezing to death an..." Jody curled her fingers in the shape of quotation marks, "added stress".

Claire affectionately rubbed Amanda's knee. "I suppose I'll be able to stay warm enough." She smiled at grateful green eyes. "If not, we can always drive into town and stay at a lodge or something, right?"

"Absolutely!" Thanks, Claire. Amanda covered Claire's hand with her own.

"We'll be fine, Jody. I've got some extra blankets we can bring," Mark added helpfully.

Jody pointed an impudent finger at Amanda. "You've got some splainin' to do, as to why you decided to keep this little tidbit a secret, but Mark's right. We'll be fine."

"So you guys will pick us up in the Pathfinder at about 6:00 a.m.?" Mark asked Claire, knowing the brunette hated getting up early.

"Yeeesss," she groused. "We'll be there." All the other details had been ironed out over dinner.

"Good." Amanda clapped her hands together. "Now that the planning portion of the evening is over, I've got a game for us to play." Everyone's ears perked up. Amanda just happened to be friends with the three most competitive people on the planet. The last time they had tried to play Trivial Pursuit it had turned into an all out war with large sums of money being wagered, and horrible, humiliating tasks awaiting the losers. Thank goodness I won, she thought smugly.

"What type of game is that?" Mark pointed to the large pink box that Amanda pulled out from under the couch.

"I'm not sure exactly. One of my patients insisted that I try it. She said she and her boyfriend learned fascinating things about each other and it opened up their lines of communication." Amanda examined the box. "It's called 'Secrets Revealed'."

Everyone groaned.

"C'mon guys, it'll be fun." The blonde woman pulled out the directions and began reading.

How well do you know your friends and loved ones?

The object of the game is to be the first person whose

token crosses the finish line. Each player

moves their token one square for each correct answer.

Select a player to go first. That player picks a card

and reads the question aloud, while the other players

write down what they think the answer will be.

Good luck and may many interesting secrets

be revealed!

"Oh no!" Claire moaned. "This is one of those embarrassing sex games! It doesn't even make any sense. If you're really revealing secrets then how can anyone know the right answer?" she whined.

"What's the matter?" Mark taunted. "Still bitter about losing to Amanda in Trivial Pursuit? Afraid she'll make you..."

"I remember what she made me do," she ground out. "But thanks for reminding me. Fine. Let's get on with the game."

"Tsk...Tsk..." Amanda clucked at Claire. "You are such a grouch. It's supposed to be fun." The blonde rolled her eyes and passed out pencils and pads of paper. "No one will force you to answer the questions, 'Miss I'm So Secretive'."

"I am not secretive!"

"You are so," everyone responded in unison.

Claire narrowed her eyes at the lot. "You go first, Jody." The attorney thrust a card at Jody.

Jody scanned the card. Her face turned pink as she cleared her throat and began reading. "What is the most unusual location you've ever had sex?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?" Mark sputtered. "How many places can you have sex? In your ear, your eye?"

Jody looked at Mark as if he was an idiot, but Claire was the one who spoke.

"God, Mark, you are so damn dense! They mean geographical 'locations' not locations on the human body," Claire stated exasperatedly.

"Oh," Mark answered and then began writing furiously.

After a few seconds everyone laid down their pencils.

Jody looked to Amanda. "You answer first, Amanda."

"I put..." Amanda smiled, sure she'd gain a point, "in the cockpit of a moving plane."

Mark and Claire both raised their eyebrows at Jody who turned a brighter shade of red and simply shrugged. "Sorry, Amanda, that was a good guess." Damn, how could I have forgotten about that one? "But that's not the correct answer." Next Jody looked at Claire as she answered.

"On Amanda's desk at the Cornerstone Clinic."

"What?" Amanda shouted. "Jody, you better not have..."

"I never, I swear..." Jody sputtered. Jody shifted to Claire. "Why the hell would you say that?"

"Well, it may not be the most unusual place you've had sex, but it's the most unusual place I've had sex." Claire wriggled her eyebrows suggestively and watched with great amusement as Amanda's cheeks turned flushed scarlet. "Besides, how am I supposed to know where you've had sex? I don't even want to know that!"

Amanda was starting to think this was not such a great idea. "Maybe you were right, Claire. This game is really childish, we could just..."

"No!" everyone shouted in together.

"Tough luck, Amanda," Jody informed. "This was your brilliant idea. It's your turn, Mark."

Mark looked down at his piece of paper and smiled. "Utah," he proudly answered.

The women just stared at him.

"What? She's from Utah! It's a good answer!"

Jody just shook her head and didn't bother saying he was wrong. "The correct answer is... standing up... while in a canoe."

Amanda scrunched up her face. "Is that even possible?" she asked.

Jody smiled and nodded. Amanda and Claire looked at Mark.

"Don't look at me. I can't swim!" the muscular man reminded them.

"For Christ Sakes, Mark. We were in the canoe. Nobody got wet."

Claire opened her mouth to speak but Amanda clamped her hand over it before she could say a word. After a scolding look, Amanda removed her hand. "Spoil-sport." Claire stuck out her lip in a pout that was a fair imitation of Missy's and drew the next the card.

Claire cleared her voice and read from the card. "What is the single weirdest thing you have ever seen?" This is an easy one, Claire figured as everyone dropped their pencils in record time. She turned to Amanda. "Okay, what did you put."

"A mummified cat," she said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Me too!" Mark exclaimed, giving Amanda another high-five. They both knew they were correct even before Claire could confirm it.

"Right." Claire put down her card.

"How'd you guys know that?" Jody complained.

"She saw them at the British Museum when she was a child," Amanda answered.

"They gave her nightmares for weeks," Mark added absently as he took a sip of his luke-warm beer. "What did you guess?"

Jody grinned evilly. "Amanda's hair in the morning."

Mark sprayed a fine mist of his beer as he burst out laughing. Claire tried to keep her chuckles silent, but to no avail. Soon, everyone but Amanda was laughing hysterically.

"It's not that funny," the blonde grumbled, her hand unconsciously rising and smoothing out shaggy red-gold locks.

"Of course it's not, sweetheart," Claire placated with a smirk.

Amanda would have none it as she cocked her head and stuck her tongue out at her mate.

It was Mark's turn next. He silently read his card and then placed it back on the deck. "I'll pass."

"You can't pass, Marko," Claire objected. "We're the ones who get the points if we answer the question correctly."

"I'd really rather..."

"Just read the question!"

Mark gritted his teeth. "Fine. What is the name of person you lost your virginity to?" The big man set the card down and tried not to glance at Claire, whose faced had paled.

Claire licked her lips nervously, fiercely wishing she hadn’t objected to Mark passing on the question. It’s okay. We’ll just play it cool. No one will notice.

Jody looked from Mark to Claire and then back again. As realization dawned, she leapt to her feet. "OH...MY...GOD!" she yelled, her face turning an angry shade of purple. Mark was looking down at his shoes and neither he nor Claire would meet her eyes. "It was her, wasn't it?" Jody pointed an accusing finger at Claire.

"What?" Amanda jumped to her feet as well. Green eyes blazed as they focused solely on Claire. "You told me it was a boy you knew in High School!" she reminded angrily.

Claire opened her mouth and then closed it. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as her mind furiously raced for something… anything she could say that would fix this. Damn. She hadn’t outright lied to Amanda but she had knowingly been vague enough to give her partner the wrong idea. That’s just as bad as lying. I need to fix this, and fast. She opened her mouth again. "Mandy…"

"Shut up!" Jody spat. "I wanna hear this from Mark. True or false, Mark. Am I the only person in this room that hasn’t slept with Claire?" she asked acidly.

Mark stuffed his good hand into the pocket of his Dockers. "Come on, Jody. What does it matter? It was a really long time ago."

"Answer the question." Jody was teetering on the edge of a full-blown tantrum.

All eyes were on Mark. Damn, stupid, rotten, damn game! "Jody…" he appealed but stopped when he could see there was no point. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rising to his feet, he looked down at Jody. "Yes. You are the only person in this room who hasn’t slept with Claire."

SMACK!! Jody slapped Mark with such vicious force that he nearly tumbled back onto the sofa. He immediately brought his hand up to his stinging cheek. God, she’s strong!

"Are you crazy, Jody? He’s only just out of the hospital with a head injury!" Amanda scolded as she moved between Jody and Mark, hoping to stop this from escalating further.

With an angry growl, Jody threw her hands in the air and stalked out of the room. Her muttered curse words were the only sounds in the otherwise silent room.

Mark watched her leave and turned helpless hazel eyes on Amanda. "Should I go in there and…?"

For a second she thought about not answering. It would serve you right, too, if I let you sit here and stew for a while. But as usual, Amanda’s more empathic side shone through and she answered despite her own resentment. "I wouldn’t, if I were you." Listen to this advice Mark. "I’ll go talk to her."

Turning toward Claire, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the entire exchange, Amanda let her face express the mixture of anger and profound hurt she was feeling. Claire visibly shrank back from the look. "We’ll talk later," she quietly supplied, before leaving to find Jody.

Claire simply nodded, glad Amanda hadn’t said something that required a verbal answer. She didn’t think she could speak past the lump in her throat. How am I gonna fix this one?

Mark took the last swallow of his beer. "I’m leaving." His voice was flat and harsh.

"Jody didn’t take that very well, did she?"

Mark poked his tongue against the inside of his lip, tasting the faint coppery tang of blood. He smiled ruefully, wincing at the sharp stab of pain the movement caused. His head was still ringing. "You could say that."

"Are you okay, Marko? She clocked you pretty good."

"Yeah. I’m fine." The big man found something extremely interesting about his belt buckle. "I should have told her before. It just never seemed like a very good time to bring up the subject."

"You and me both, buddy. I’m so far in the dog house I don’t know when I’ll next see the light of day."

"Nah," Mark reassured. "Amanda loves you. She’s mad, but she’ll forgive you."

"Jody…" Claire stopped there. She wasn’t sure exactly how Jody felt. Most of the time the moody psychologist seemed to adore Mark. But at other times, it looked as though she was pushing him away with both hands. "She… she… really cares about you."

"I guess we’ll see how much. Won’t we?"

"Are you in love with her?"

"Yes." The response came without doubt or hesitation.

"Does she know that?"

His first reaction was to say 'yes', but Mark's first reaction was usually wrong. "I... I guess. I'm not sure."

Claire rubbed her ear speculatively, knowing she was way out of her element. "Then maybe you shouldn’t leave. Amanda and I can go upstairs and you can both stay in here and work things out. If you really love her, Marko, don’t just take off. Stay and try to work things out."

The tall man looked around the room in confusion. He wanted to leave, he wanted to stay, he wanted to tell Jody 'go to hell', and he wanted to profess his undying love, he wanted to shake her and make her listen, and he wanted to kiss her from head to toe. When did everything get so complicated?

Claire studied her dear friend. More than anything Mark looked as if he needed a big hug. He had gambled on not telling Jody about him and Claire, and based on Jody's reaction, he may have just lost. Unable to stand the forlorn look on the muscular attorney's face for another second, Claire stood up and offered him a friendly bear hug. He returned the embrace with a solid one-armed grip.

"Marko, if you really love her, don't let this mess things up for you. Make her understand that what happened with us was the past, and that she's your future," Claire said softly.

Mark swallowed hard. "I'll try." He looked away, embarrassed that his eyes had filled with tears. Sensing his discomfort, Claire had the good manners to bend down and start putting the contents of the game back into its box, keeping her eyes firmly trained on the board and game pieces.

"Good." She slipped the lid on and looked toward the hall where Jody and Amanda had disappeared. Amanda is not going to understand why I didn’t say something sooner.

The handsome man's eyes followed Claire's. "How long do you think they'll be?"

"How mad was Jody?"

Mark plopped down on the sofa with a loud thump. "It's going to be a long night."

************************

A lone figure moved through the quiet, suburban home. A slender hand traced the cool, polished furniture as the hand's owner silently walked in the shadows. Each step she took caused a faint clicking on the solid wood floors. There was no need to turn on a light. Every nook and cranny had long since been committed to memory.

They must be at the faculty Christmas party. She mentally calculated what date it was. Yeah... that has to be it. Her eyes scanned the familiar furniture as she inhaled the clean smell of wood polish and the faint smell of cinnamon.

Still the same, she mused. Immaculate in every way. Monica ambled up the long winding staircase thinking of all the times she and Amanda had raced up these same steps toward their rooms.

Although she was nearly a year older than Amanda, the sisters were either treated like twins, which most people assumed they were because of their strikingly similar features, or Amanda was put in charge. Very early on, the Greers learned which of their daughters was the responsible one. It wasn't Monica.

Her hand felt warm against the cool, dark wood of the ornately carved banister and Monica laughed a little, remembering how she tricked Amanda into believing it was possible to fly if she jumped from the top step and held her breath at the same time. That lesson in physics had cost a four-year-old Amanda six stitches and Monica her freedom for an entire summer. She was always so gullible.

At the top of the stairs, Monica turned right and headed to the small room at the end of the hall. Pausing for only a second outside the entrance, the blonde pushed open the door and stepped back into her childhood.

With a smooth stride, she moved to her old bed and sat down, enjoying the feeling of the familiar soft down comforter beneath her. On the far side of the room, opposite the bed, was a doorway leading to a nearly identical room. It had been Amanda's. For some reason, her parents had chosen to turn Amanda's old bedroom into a guestroom. It was a seemingly normal thing to do... except for the fact that the Greers hadn't had a guest stay overnight in more than twenty years.

Monica stared at the door between the rooms for several long minutes. During all the years of her childhood, the door had remained open. She could still remember the very first time she'd shut it in anger. How ridiculous she had felt. The simple act was intended to give her some peace and privacy from her sister's nagging, but her pride and stubbornness refused to let her open it again.

Monica shook her head. If only I would have known that I would spend nearly fifteen years wishing I could take back that one silly act that had blossomed into something that meant so much more.

Then, as it usually did, the jealously and resentment returned. My perfect sister. Monica rolled her eyes. Nobody's perfect, not even you.

Monica decided that she had closed too many doors over the years and that it was time to reconnect with her sister, at least long enough to get back her daughter. She rose from the bed and reached for the doorknob, surprised to find her hand shaking slightly. Part of her suspected it would be locked... that Amanda had bolted the door closed from her side. That wasn't the case. The door opened easily and the small room suddenly seemed larger and her sister not so impossibly far away.

Tonight, Monica wouldn't be slinking out of the house as she'd done so many times in the past. She'd go down stairs and make a cup of coffee and wait for her parents to come home. And she'd do her best to answer their questions. This time, she was coming home healthy and strong, and drug-free. She'd been to hell and back, but she was determined to get at least a small measure of her life back. No, I don't want my 'old' life back. I want to start a new one. Tonight she'd deal with her parents. But more importantly, very soon, she'd deal with her sister and her daughter.

Time to collect my daughter. And I'll do whatever it takes. I may be clean... but I'm still me. A half-predatory, half-mischievous smile lit up the darkened room. I'm baaaack.

************************

Comments or questions to Advocate advocate8704@yahoo.com

  Continued

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