by Enginerd
Entering her dark room, Mel closed the door and leaned against it, trying to calm down. Her whole body hummed.
When their lips met, it was like a wave of electricity had rolled off the archeologist and right through her, sparking every single nerve, including many she never knew existed. The same nerves that still smouldered after their conflagrant contact. She had suspected Janice’s touch would arouse her like no other, just as in her dreams. But Mel had never dared to hope she’d ever respond to someone so . . . completely.
Mel suddenly grew worried.
Was it always going to be like that? Would all her kisses leave her trembling, all her touches cause such longing?? How was she ever going to get any work done around her?!? She’d never be able to concentrate, knowing at this particular moment, she’d have difficulty translating a Greek menu!
"So? What happened?" Sophia asked excitedly as she jumped up and turned on her night stand light.
"Aah!" Mel gasped, holding her hand over her already pounding heart. "Good Lord, did you wait up for me?"
"Weeeell? What happened?!?" Sophia asked again, undeterred by the annoyed Southerner. Although the answer to Mel’s question was yes, that wasn’t nearly as important as the answer to her question.
Mel averted her gaze as she placed her purse down on the bureau and started to get ready for bed. "We had a wonderful evening," Mel said with forced calm.
Sophia’s brow furrowed, realizing after several silent moments, that Mel was not going to volunteer any more information. Mel turned down her bed and sat, carefully placing her glasses on the night stand, on top of the cigar box. She smiled at her gifts, then started to take her shoes off.
"Aaaaand?" Sophia encouraged.
"We had drinks, chatted, lost track of time, came back here, kissed, and said good night," Mel said, starting to undress.
"Oh," Sophia said with a disappointed sigh, then looked up with wide eyes. "Hold on, you kissed?" Sophia said with a big smile, then grew very serious. "Was it a peck or more . . . intimate?"
"Sophia, I really don't. . . ." Mel protested the questioning. Growing up, she never talked with girlfriends about any intimate details of her dates. Of course, she never had a date worth talking about. Seeing Sophia’s pouting face, she offered "both" with a heavy sigh.
"Why don’t you look happy about it?" Sophia asked with concern.
"She’s . . . she’s going to think I’m . . . ," Mel said uneasily, not sure how to finish or how much to share. This was all new territory for the Southerner.
"Think you’re what?"
"Sophia, how are we going to do this? How can I possibly work around her now?" Mel moaned, plopping back on the bed and pulling a pillow over her face.
"Oh honey," Sophia said sadly, feeling great disappointment for Janice. "I can’t say it will be easy, but you two are such good friends. You know the last thing Janice would want is to push you into something you aren’t comfortable with."
"No. Sophia, I want . . . her," she admitted awkwardly as an embarrassed flush washed over her. "More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my whole life," she whispered, strangling her pillow.
"Uh huh," Sophia said flatly, confused. Eyeing the agitated Southerner, she tried to figure out what the problem was.
***
Across the hall, two other roommates were also still awake.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Raj offered softly as Janice turned over on the creaky mattress . . . again.
"No."
***
"Sophia? If you don’t stop laughing, I will hurt you," the Southern lady snapped with dangerously narrow eyes.
"Honey, you are just . . . frustrated," Sophia explained helpfully, attempting to stifle her giggles for her own safety.
"No kidding!" Mel declared into her pillow and moaned. And she actually complained about how frustrated Janice made her before!
"Should I go get Janice? I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to lend a hand," she offered with a snort.
"NO!" Mel snapped with panic as she abruptly sat up, startling Sophia.
"I thought you said. . . ."
"I know what I said," Mel responded wearily. "But I don’t want to . . ." Mel explained then stopped, not wanting to go into Janice’s hesitancy at the moment, especially with Janice’s former lover. Sophia curiously eyed her, prompting Mel to awkwardly add. "Rush . . . into anything."
Sophia smiled warmly and nodded in understanding. "It is a huge step for a relationship and shouldn’t be rushed."
Mel nodded and sighed heavily, grumbling "no matter how frustrating."
***
In the morning, Sophia and Mel emerged from their room to meet their traveling companions for breakfast. Raj and Janice were quietly waiting.
"Good morning," Sophia muttered. Raj nodded with a yawn.
Mel smiled warmly at Janice, who smiled weakly and dropped her eyes. Mel looked over to Sophia.
With a discreet motion of Mel’s head and a threatening glare, Sophia got the hint and suddenly grabbed the startled Raj by the arm and pulled him down the hall as she blurted "Well, I’m starving!"
Janice curiously followed her friends, who were surprisingly fast for being so tired. Feeling a gentle hand on her forearm, Janice froze.
"I’ll make you a deal," Mel offered, surprising Janice, who couldn’t help but eye the tall woman curiously.
"What kind of deal?" Janice asked cautiously.
"Uh, I don’t know," she admitted and shrugged. "I was kind of hoping you’d have something in mind so this wouldn’t be so awkward," Mel said with a small smile, pushing up her glasses.
Janice scratched the back of her neck, feeling lost. "Sorry."
"I’m not," Mel said firmly, prompting Janice to wince and start to apologize again. But Mel continued before she could. "I have to admit, I’m, well, new to this, and . . . if it’s all right with you, I was hoping we would . . . well, as my Granddaddy used to say, a good relationship is like good barbeque," she explained.
Janice looked at Melinda Pappas in confusion.
"You won’t be happy with the results if you rush," Mel explained with a shrug. Noting conflict in Janice’s eyes, she added. "Surely you’ve had barbeque, Dr. Covington?"
"We always cooked over a fire . . . we just didn’t have the sauce," Janice responded curiously.
"Oh, no, barbeque," Mel clarified.
"It’s not sauce?"
"Dear Lord," Mel sighed dramatically. "You’ve never had barbeque."
Janice eyed the always interesting woman. "Apparently not. I trust you’ll help me remedy my obvious deficiency?"
"Certainly. Southerner’s take barbeque very seriously, you know."
"I’m relieved I’ll be in such conscientious hands," Janice said softly, bringing a satisfied smile to Mel’s face.
With a polite motion for the Southern lady to precede her, Janice received a firm nod before Mel lead the way. As they emerged from the hotel, Mel abruptly stopped, almost causing Janice to bump into her.
"Uh, Janice?" Mel asked, looking up and down the street, then to the archeologist curiously. "Which café were we going to?"
Janice slightly grinned as she silently pointed to the right.
"Ah," Mel said, pushed up her glasses and led the way.
***
The four tired travelers sat at a small table at an outdoor café, looking over their menus.
"Do you know what you want?" Sophia asked Mel, looking up from her long menu of interesting foods.
"Yes," Mel answered with certainty. "Breakfast."
Sophia frowned and looked over to Janice for help in deciding.
"Yeah, that sounds good," Janice agreed with a smirk, placing her menu down. Sophia growled and returned to reviewing the menu.
When a tall shadow crossed their table, Janice looked up, expecting the waiter had returned for their orders.
"Do you mind another joining your party?" Frank asked with a friendly smile. Sophia looked up and smiled brightly at the handsome arrival, concluding he could join her party any time.
"How did you find us?" Mel asked with surprise.
"Please, Melinda. I tracked you to India. Surely, a café would be a piece of cake," he scoffed with amusement. "Besides, I could see you all sitting outside," he revealed with a conspiratorial grin, prompting an amused chuckle from Sophia.
"Pull up a chair. The more the merrier," Janice said with a polite smile as she stood and moved her chair to make room. "Sophia Themopolis and Raj Shankar, this is Mel’s friend, who came all the way from South Carolina to visit her ," Janice said graciously, surprising Mel, who was rather impressed with the archeologist’s display of manners, until she introduced him.
"Phil Coleman."
"It’s Frank," he corrected her with surprise.
"Right. Like on the birth certificate," Janice said with a small smile and sat, surprised when the confused Frank politely "helped" her with her chair. Mel smirked at the irritation that appeared on Janice’s face. She shrugged innocently when a brief green glare was directed her way.
"It is very good to meet a friend of Miss Pappas’," Raj said with a smile, getting a friendly smile in return.
"Likewise," he said, holding his hand out which Raj firmly shook. Frank nodded at the smiling redhead, who held out her hand daintily. He took it and shook it gently and smiled. "It’s a pleasure."
"It could be," Sophia blurted with a grin. "Ow!" Sophia blurted, reaching down to rub her shin, which was kicked by Mel under the table. Janice sighed and drank her water.
"So . . . did you sleep well, Frank?" Mel asked, politely.
"Actually, I did," Frank said, pretending, as the Southern gentleman had learned, to be oblivious to the interaction between the women. Though Mel’s surprisingly possessive reaction delighted him, renewing his hope of winning her over. "I really didn’t know what to expect, but the accommodations are very good," Frank said, smiling at Janice.
"Well, most cities have accommodations that Westerners are used to. It’s the British influence," Janice offered, adding "The main architects of New Delhi were British. You can see it in the layout of the roads and the design of the government bungalows, hospitals, and well, Connaught place in general. Unfortunately, like most British, the architects routinely ignored Indian ideas . . . ," Janice said, letting a bit of disapproval slip through. "Even though the most spectacular architecture in India has nothing to do with the British."
"Like the Taj Mahal?" Mel offered, hoping to get a chance to visit.
Janice smiled at Mel's enthusiasm. "Exactly."
"Sounds like you’re a student of India," Frank said with interest.
"Just picked up a few things along the way," Janice said dismissively. "So ladies, do you have any recommendations on where we should go today?" She asked and sipped her water.
"Didn’t someone mention the Taj Mahal?" Frank suggested, glancing at Mel hopefully.
"Uh, I had thought Dr. Covington might want to visit with Dr. Tangore today," Mel countered, her desire to visit did not involve Frank. She was surprised by the displeased look from Janice, who quietly sipped her water.
"I was planning to go to the University today. I still have the Greek texts I haven’t reviewed yet," Sophia mentioned. "But I would love to go to the Taj," she said easily, smiling at the handsome man.
"The Taj Mahal is easy to get to by train. Only takes a couple of hours," Janice helpfully noted and sipped her water.
"If you and Melinda are working, could I tag along with you? Would that be all right?" Frank said with a charming smile.
Janice blinked, then looked at Mel, who shifted uncomfortably.
"Frank, you should enjoy your stay here, not get stuck in some University," Mel interjected.
"Melinda, I didn’t come here to sightsee. I came here to find out what was so fascinating about this work of yours," he said. "It’ll be fun," he suggested, making Mel sigh. "So how about it, Doctor Covington?"
"Sure. The more the merrier," Janice said flatly.
***
Raj and a disappointed Sophia took a separate cab to the University. Sophia’s offer to sit in Frank’s lap to save the fare had been curtly rejected by the Southern woman.
Frank smiled as he politely opened the cab door for Mel, who realized with dread as the door shut, that he would be sitting next to Janice in the back.
"So, how long have you been an archeologist?" Frank asked conversationally as the cab darted into traffic.
Mel looked back at them with concern. She knew Janice hated it when people she didn’t know quizzed her about herself. Actually, she hated it when people she knew quizzed her, Mel considered.
"I’m not really sure," Janice said, not looking up from the New Delhi newspaper she had started to read. "I’ve been digging in dirt a long time," she said, glancing up into apologetic blue eyes. She sighed and returned to her paper.
"Since you were a young girl, Melinda had mentioned in a letter," he noted proudly, knowing paying attention was important in a relationship. He glanced towards Mel, wondering why she was cringing.
Janice ignored him, turning the page of her paper with irritation and focusing on the cricket scores. Even cricket, which she found amazing that anyone could consider it a real sport, was more interesting than this inane chit chat.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" He asked.
"Look! What a pretty building," Mel blurted, looking out the window, wondering why a cow was never around when you really needed one.
"Frank?" Janice looked up from her newspaper and looked at him with cold eyes. "I would appreciate it if you stopped interrogating me." Her voice held warning. Mel cringed.
"I . . . I was just trying to be friendly," he sputtered with surprise.
"Well, stop," she responded, returning her gaze to her newspaper.
"You don’t like talking much, do you?" Frank joked uneasily. Mel rolled her eyes.
"Not when I’m trying to read, no," Janice said, turning the page of the newspaper.
Frank looked at Mel for help. She shook her head wearily and turned forward.
The rest of the ride was in silence.
As they walked up the stairs to the academic offices, Mel noted how pensive Janice grew the closer they got to Dr. Tangore’s office. And it wasn’t because she was just trying to ignore Frank’s irritating presence, she noted.
"So, who is Dr. Tangore?" Frank asked Janice amiably, baffled as to why he couldn’t get this woman to say two things to him.
"Frank," Mel said, cautioning him.
"What?" Frank said with frustration.
"May I talk with you a moment? Alone??" Mel said, stopping. Janice ignored them, continuing down the hall.
Frank looked torn, glancing between the archeologist, who had disappeared around a corner, and the Southerner, who he wanted to woo. He sighed and smiled at the beautiful woman, who wanted to be alone with him.
"What is it, Melinda?" He said warmly, stepping closer.
"Stop interrogating Janice!" Mel said with irritation, accentuating each word with a poke to his chest. He stepped back and rubbed the spot with surprise.
"I’m not interrogating her," he said defensively. "I’m just trying to get to know her and understand this work of yours," he said honestly.
Mel sighed heavily. "No, so far you haven’t really tried to understand anything. You’ve just wanted to find a way to talk me out of what I want to do. You want to convince me my place is in South Carolina, raising a family, and being a dutiful Southern wife. Well, it isn’t! My place is with Janice, wherever that might take me. And even if, as you suspect, my choices are mistakes, so be it," she said firmly.
Before he could respond she continued, "I want you to understand one, very important thing, Mr. Coleman. They will be my choices!" Mel spat and marched down the hall to join Janice.
***
"Raj?" Sophia asked as they carried the Ancient Greek scrolls the kind old librarian had allowed her to review. They had recently been sent to the University from a dig site and awaited departmental review. But Sophia was so excited about a Greek translation of the Kama Sutra, the old librarian couldn’t help but finally relent and allow the sweet, well-endowed Greek woman get a crack at them.
"What do you think of prostitution?" She asked as they carefully placed the ancient artifacts on her usual table.
He blinked with surprise and answered cautiously. "It is an old profession?"
Sophia rolled her eyes and tried a slightly different tack. "What do you think of prostitutes?"
"Why?"
"Just curious. What do you think of prostitutes?" She looked at him curiously.
He sighed and after a thoughtful moment, responded. "There are good and bad people everywhere, Sophia. Including those who are in that profession." His answer obviously did not satisfy the woman, who continued her questioning.
"But, if say, a family member of yours . . . fell in love with one and wanted to marry her, what would you think?"
He smiled. "Love is a gift. I would wish them a happy life together," he said honestly.
She chuckled softly as she sat down and grabbed a scroll. "Too bad most people are not like you," she said and carefully opened up the ancient Greek scroll.
***
Janice entered the reception area just outside of the office of her father’s friend. She glanced around, noting the place hadn’t changed much, except for a larger number of photos now adorning the walls.
The Indian secretary looked up with a curious smile. "I’m here to see Dr. Tangore," Janice said uncomfortably. She hadn’t seen any of Harry’s close friends since his death.
"And you are?"
"Janice!" Dr. Tangore boomed happily, startling Janice and his secretary. He approached the secretary’s desk with a stack of folders. "How are you, Dr. Covington?" He made a point of stressing her title as he handed the secretary the files.
She smiled, pleased by his recognition. It was nearly a miracle she was able to plow through the academics while taking care of her father and running his digs when he was incapacitated.
"Good. And you? Is your wife still lamenting about your hobby?" She asked as she walked into his office, glancing around to the large collection of pictures.
Most of the photos she had never seen before, which wasn’t surprising. Many years had passed. But there still were a few she recognized. Her eyes fell on one familiar one, a picture of her mud-soaked father, trying to explain how their jeep got stuck to her mother, who stood behind her. They seemed so happy.
"She puts up with it, as long as I display my pictures in my office and not clutter up the home," Dr. Tangore said with a chuckle. "Listening to the wisdom of your wife is the secret to a good marriage," he offered sagely.
Janice nodded absently, recalling the happy day captured by that picture. One of the precious few remaining before it all changed.
"Honey, I swear you could find a mud puddle in the Sahara," Libby said with amusement.
"You know, that’s not a bad thing . . . if you think about it," Harry grumbled, scratching the back of his head as Janice snorted with amusement.
"Now go get cleaned up, the two of you," Libby ordered crisply. "No dinner until you do."
"But I’m not that . . . " Janice protested.
"Don’t you argue with me, young lady."
"Do as she says, Janice," Harry said knowingly.
He always seemed to listen to her. Yet that didn’t guarantee happiness, Janice thought. And she was too consumed in her own damned love affair to notice them growing apart, Janice thought guiltily. Staring at the happy picture, the familiar, deep ache returned.
She missed them.
Fuck, Janice thought angrily. She hated it when unwanted memories and emotions were dredged up. This was exactly why she didn’t want to visit any of her father’s . . . .
"Your partner, Melinda, came in a few days ago to show me the Krishna text," he said happily. "She’s a lovely woman. Very enthusiastic about your work."
Janice took a deep breath and smiled, knowing Mel could be even more enthusiastic then she was at times. "Yes, she is," she softly agreed, looking at Dr. Tangore.
"She also told me of your amazing find in Macedonia," he said with genuine excitement for his young friend.
Janice’s smile faded quickly. "And an equally amazing loss," she said tightly. "Easy come, easy go," she said flippantly with a shrug.
"At least you still have some evidence, and more importantly, you have vindicated your father," he said softly.
Her eyes dropped, then sought out the picture of her muddy father. "And in the end . . . was it all worth it?"
"Ah," Dr. Tangore said with a thoughtful nod. "A question everyone will ask at some point in their lives. If each day is lived truthfully and with happiness, I would say in the end, the journey was worth it."
Janice rolled her eyes at the Indian’s philosophy, which she thought was usually a convenient way to actually avoid answering direct questions. "And what do you think Harry’s answer was?"
"Only Harry can answer that," Dr. Tangore said.
Janice sighed, not satisfied by his mumbo jumbo, but knew that was all he’d offer.
"So, you are going to continue your search, I understand," Tangore said with a pleased smile.
"Mel and I were hoping we might find a clue or two in India. But we’re stuck at the moment," Janice said.
"Your partner seemed rather confident you’ll find something here."
"She has a hunch. And it’s hard to argue with a lady with a hunch," Janice said with a small smile.
"How did you two become partners?" Dr. Tangore asked with interest.
Janice grinned. "She arrived in my camp in the middle of a gun fight, got threatened by some Nazis, almost buried alive in a cave, and was on the receiving end of an undeserved tirade after I lost the scrolls," she said, concerning Dr. Tangore. "And after all that, she still wanted to help me," Janice explained with amazement, making him smile. "I had to keep her," Janice added with a shrug, causing Dr. Tangore to chuckle.
"Sounds like you did not have much choice in the matter," Dr. Tangore offered, amused with how Janice scratched the back of her neck, just like her father.
"Yeah, well, just don’t tell her that," Janice said with a small smile.
***
As Raj read a newspaper, Sophia studied the sketches of the lovers curiously. In the English translation, the lovers were clearly drawn as Indian, in both their features and dress. Yet these lovers did not look Indian, which sort of made sense, she concluded. It was a Greek scroll.
It also seemed that this Greek version only focused on a woman pleasuring another woman. Something Mel might want to take a look at, she considered with amusement.
***
"She doesn’t let you put your family pictures up?" Janice asked with amazement as they left Tangore’s office.
"Only some. I have thirty-eight grandchildren and I am afraid I do not have enough wall space," he chuckled.
She whistled at the number, then smiled, seeing Mel waiting for her.
"Melinda, you should have come in and visited!" Dr. Tangore gently scolded her as she stood with Frank to meet them.
"I didn’t want to impose on your time with Janice," Melinda said with a smile.
Hearing Frank clear his throat, Janice smirked and started to introduce him. "Dr. Tangore, this is. . . ."
"Frank Coleman," he quickly interjected, holding his hand out.
As Dr. Tangore shook Frank’s hand, Mel looked at Janice, who shrugged innocently.
***
Sophia couldn’t help but note that the Greek lovers were a study in contrasts, in practically everything - except that they were both women. Their hair lengths were contrasts, Sophia noted. The brunette had long hair and the blond had short hair.
In one picture, in the section she was pretty sure was on foreplay, though she had some trouble with the Ancient Greek syntax, she noted how the taller, dark-haired woman was laying on her stomach, nude, while the smaller, blond-haired woman, who wore a robe, was kneeling next to her, drawing a feather over her back.
The caption was rather odd. Touch on the pen? Sophia sighed, concluding she would just have to convince Melinda to help her with the syntax, somehow.
Glancing at another scroll and scene, she eyed the lovers who struck her as oddly familiar.
***
"Well, we should go find what trouble Sophia and Raj are in," Janice said as they left Dr. Tangore’s office. After glancing over her shoulder at the unusually quiet Frank, she eyed the tall woman curiously. "What’s with him?" Janice asked softly.
"We talked."
"Ah," Janice said in understanding. After a few moments of walking in companionable silence, she said. "Thanks."
"You’re welcome. He really didn’t mean to annoy you," Mel explained quietly, glancing back at Frank, who was still following them quietly as they headed towards the library. "He just wanted to . . . ."
"No, I meant, about Dr. Tangore," Janice interrupted, surprising Mel.
"Well, it really wouldn’t have been right to intrude," Mel smiled warmly. "He said he hadn’t seen you since . . . . "
Janice interjected "Noooo . . . "
"You know, Janice, I can’t read your mind," Mel explained flatly, pushing up her glasses. She blushed at the archeologist’s unexpectedly bold gaze of appreciation.
"Good thing," Janice responded with a small grin and continued. "I was thanking you for you nagging me about seeing him."
"I did not nag you," Mel immediately protested.
"I wouldn’t have gone if is wasn’t for you," Janice admitted, making Mel pleased. "It was a good visit. Thank you . . . ," Janice said sincerely.
Mel smiled.
". . . for nagging me."
***
Sophia gazed at another amazingly familiar picture curiously.
The blond, who was once again in another interesting outfit, sort of looked like Janice, except for the short hair, she considered, scratching her chin. She snorted, thinking Mel would turn beet red if she saw this nude picture of the taller woman, who could easily pass for the Southerner, without her god-awful glasses or hair pinned up in that bun.
"Hey Raj, look at this," Sophia snickered with amusement.
Raj looked up from his newspaper warily. His eyes rolled at her insistence, then focused on the illustration she placed before him.
"Look like anyone you know?"
His brow rose with surprise.
***
As they entered the library, Janice saw Sophia hovering behind an interested Raj, with her hand resting on his shoulder as she pointed to various illustrations with enthusiasm. Janice glanced at Mel with a smirk, then the two and said silkily, "Do you two want to be left alone?"
Sophia and Raj looked up, startled.
"Be nice," Mel quietly scolded Janice, who responded with a surprised look of innocence.
"Yeah, or we just might not share our discovery with you!" Sophia said with excitement.
"I hate to break it to you, Sophia. But the Kama Sutra was already well known before your discovery of it," Janice said with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You know, you are going to apologize for being mean when you find out what we know," Sophia predicted with a triumphant smile.
"And what would that be?" Janice said, playing along as Mel joined Raj’s side to have a look at what was so interesting.
"The librarian said these Greek scrolls came from a dig at Khajuraho, where other copies of the Kama Sutra were found. But it’s not like the others," she said teasingly, beaming proudly.
Janice watched Mel intently as she looked at the text and illustrations, noting with anticipation the surprise, then the brief, curious look of embarrassment, then amazement. When their eyes met, Janice could feel the excitement radiating from the Southerner, causing her own heart to pound. And she knew why, even before Mel offered a big, beautiful smile and reverently announced "It’s them."
Sophia nudged Raj happily.
"Them? Them who?" Frank asked, looking between Janice and Mel, who continued to stare at each other as they shared that heady moment of discovery.
And sharing was what it was all about, wasn’t it, Janice thought. Even on the last dig, where she had spent many grumpy days digging up stupid kitchenware, it was always better when she shared her day with Mel, who offered unwavering support, and could always lift her spirits with a smile or a laugh.
Janice was unable to imagine a future without Mel, who smiled with delight and looked over to Raj as he got up from his seat. He politely offered it to Mel, allowing the expert on Ancient Greek syntax to have the place of honor. As Mel sat, Sophia quickly took a spot next to her. The worldly woman was ready and eager to help the linguist with context, should her services be needed. Though, she did realize, the pictures didn’t really leave much guess work.
Frank watched with fascination as Melinda pulled a pad and pencil from her purse and rolled up her sleeves, wasting no time as she dove into translating the scroll, ignoring everything except the ancient text . . . and Dr. Covington, who leaned over her shoulder to glance at the scroll.
Frank frowned, wondering what the archeologist had whispered into her ear to cause Mel to blush so. Pushing her glasses up, Mel smiled shyly and shook her head at Janice, who grinned as she departed for the librarian’s office with Raj.
Considering that watching Mel translate would be about as much fun as watching paint dry, Frank followed after Dr. Covington and Raj.
***
Sophia looked at Mel and studied her, then looked at another illustration with a grin, suddenly feeling compelled to point out the obvious. "You know, the brunette looks a lot like . . . ."
"Sophia, I know," Mel interrupted with irritation. "I also know who the blond looks like, thank you very much."
"You’re very welcome," Sophia said happily and sat back with an amused smile. "They look good together, don’t they?" She offered.
"You are cruel, Sophia Themopolis," Mel said flatly, looking straight into the woman’s unrepentant eyes.
"Translating this would be very . . . frustrating, I’d imagine," Sophia said with a straight face.
"I’m mistaken. You are not cruel. You are evil," Mel said, making Sophia snicker.
"What’s so funny?" Frank asked curiously as he, Janice and Raj returned.
"Nothing’s funny," Mel responded, looking at Janice, who smiled at her.
"Let’s go," Janice said.
"What?!? I’m not finished! I’ve barely gotten. . . ." Mel blurted with concern.
"We’re taking them with us," Janice interrupted, looking around surreptitiously. "Sophia, you and Raj create a diversion, we’ll grab the scrolls and meet you back at the hotel," Janice quickly announced in a hushed tone.
"Janice Covington!?! We can not just take them!" Mel blurted.
"Miss Pappas, Dr. Tangore has authorized it," Raj quickly interjected. Janice smiled and blinked innocently. Frank rolled his eyes.
"That was not funny," Mel said sternly.
Janice and Sophia chuckled.
"It wasn’t," Mel muttered as she gathered up the precious text.
Mel closed the door, having finally banished every distraction from her room. The biggest distraction had protested, as she had predicted. But Janice immediately acquiesced upon hearing her desperate "please."
Looking around the room for a suitable work area, her eyes settled on the chair and the vanity. "That'll have to do," she considered and went to organize her workspace. As she moved the brushes and combs, she wished she had even the small card table they had in their tent, where she had spent countless hours translating.
Finally with the vanity cleaned off, she retrieved the satchel of scrolls. She pulled one out and placed it carefully down. She grabbed her pad and pencil and sat down, eager to continue her work. Opening the scroll, she found the area was a bit smaller than she expected. With a sigh, she arranged the scroll to fit better, though it was harder to read it sideways. Up for the challenge, she placed the pad on her lap and tilted her head to read the text. She squinted at the annoying light that now reflected into her eyes from the mirror.
With an annoyed growl, she got up and moved the light. After a little searching, she found another outlet and plugged it in. Returning to the vanity, she pushed up her glasses and sat with a heavy sigh. "Ok then," she muttered and tried to continue her translation. She blinked and looked up to see herself staring back at her. Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to the text and took a deep breath.
"Ugh!" She groaned, looking back at her annoyed reflection in the mirror. "I don't like this any better than you do," she growled and stood, searching her room for a better arrangement. She looked at her bed then wearily dragged the chair over to its side.
"This will have to do," she announced and retrieved the satchel and her pad and pencil.
As she sat and started to set up the bed with the scroll, she heard a knock. With an annoyed sigh for the interruption, she got up and opened the door.
"What?!?" Mel barked with frustration.
Janice winced and blurted. "I'm not going to try and stay! I just came to drop this off," she said, entering the room with a card table. "I figured you'd. . . . " she said, spotting Mel's attempt to create a workspace over by the bed. "Well, that's a thought. But this should be more comfortable."
Mel watched with amazement as Janice quickly set the table up and pulled the chair over.
"There you go," Janice blurted with a satisfied nod. As she turned, she found the tall woman in front of her looking between the table and archeologist. "What?" Janice looked around the room. "You want me to move it someplace else?"
Mel weakly shook her head no. Touching the archeologist’s cheek, she looked in her questioning eyes an emotional moment before leaning down and kissing her gently on the lips. Pulling back, she searched Janice’s face to find a surprised look.
"Thank you," Mel said softly, unable to articulate how much that meant to her.
"It was just a table," Janice said with a shrug, scratching the back of her neck glancing at the simple card table.
"It’s . . . perfect," Mel whispered, seeing a hint of a small, pleased smile on Janice’s face.
"You didn’t leave any lipstick behind, did you?" Janice suddenly asked with feigned concern.
Mel, knowing an invitation when she heard one, smiled and reached out and tenderly caressed Janice’s cheek, brushing her thumb gently against the archeologist’s lips. Just last night when Mel touched her like that, Janice’s eyes reflected such conflict, perhaps a little fear. Now, there was no conflict or fear. Mel could clearly see something very different in them. Desire.
"Now go," Mel sternly said, suddenly dropping her hand and gaze. "I have work to do . . . on my new table."
Janice curiously noted Mel’s sudden unease. "Yes, ma'am," Janice said firmly, snapping to and leaving as ordered.
Mel stared at the door after it shut behind the archeologist, who made her feel so special, and so . . . uneasy. That look of desire took her by surprise. What if Janice wanted more, and soon?!? What she really ready for that next step? Last night she sure felt she was. But Janice wasn’t. Was that why? If Janice had been, would she have been too? Or not?
"Dear Lord, you are just going to drive yourself crazy, Melinda Pappas. Stop thinking about her right now and focus on your job," she scolded herself, glancing at the scrolls with a cringe. I can do this, she thought with determination, taking a deep, fortifying breath.
With a purposeful stride, she walked to the bed, picked up the satchel, and returned to her new table. A smile appeared once again as she thought about the archeologist and how she knew what she needed. Placing the satchel down on the table, she happily arranged her workspace. After finding the perfect location for a lamp and plugging it in, she was finally ready to get some work done.
She sat with a satisfied smile and pulled out a scroll from the satchel. Opening it, her eyes immediately fell on another visually striking illustration of the two naked women. Straddling Gabrielle, who was laying on her stomach, Xena was kissing Gabrielle’s back, between her shoulder blades. There seemed to be some design, a tattoo, on Gabrielle’s back, but Mel couldn’t make out what the image was. The title of the section was "the massage of kisses."
Her smile faded as she stared at the picture, wondering what it would be like to kiss each and every inch of Janice's muscular . . . .
"Dear Lord, give me strength," Mel said, sitting back with a heavy exhale, considering maybe she was ready for more. How was she going to stay focused long enough to translate all this? At least with Sophia's distracting snickering and unnecessary commentary, she didn't have time to get too . . . engrossed. She sighed heavily. How could she not wonder what it would be like if Janice and she were in the same . . . situations . . . as her ancestors? And it really didn't help that their ancestors, even simple sketches, bore a striking resemblance to them! Ugh!!
Knocking startled the Southerner, who got up uneasily and went to the door.
She opened the door, finding Janice holding a plate of food and a cup of tea.
"I'm not going to try and stay!" Janice said quickly, making Mel chuckle softly. "I just figured you’d tell us you would be too busy to join us for dinner. So, rather than you passing out from starvation, I brought you some food, so you had no excuse not to eat," she blurted as she blew into the room, placed the plate and cup down, pulled a cloth napkin out of her pocket and quickly folded it, placing it next to the plate. Satisfied, she turned and found the Southerner looking at her thoughtfully, then awkwardly dropping her gaze to the floor.
"Something wrong?"
"I'm just not making a lot of headway," Mel admitted.
"Oh. Uh . . . sorry," Janice said guiltily, surprising Mel. "I’ll get out of your hair. You should have everything you need now," Janice said, scratching the back of her neck and quickly heading for the door.
"Janice?"
"Yes?" Janice turned hopefully, making Mel smile.
"Was your plan to keep bringing me things so I will "thank" you?"
Janice looked surprised, shocked, appalled even.
"What?!? Do you actually think I would I stoop to such juvenile behavior?" She protested, as Mel looked expectantly at her.
"It seemed like a perfect plan," Janice admitted begrudgingly with a wistful sigh. "First I'd bring you furniture, then some food, then something so special that you'd really want to thank me . . . many times."
"And what, pray tell, would that something "so special" be?" Mel asked with amusement.
"Like I’d tell you now??" Janice scoffed. "It might still work," Janice added thoughtfully, then headed to the door with her secret. Mel shook her head with a smile.
"Janice?" She called out as Janice opened the door.
"Are you going to change your mind about dinner?" Janice said with a smile.
"I've got my food. Thank you," Mel said with a warm smile.
Janice nodded. "I’ll tell Rick you said hi," she said and left.
Mel laughed softly and returned to her work.
***
Nursing her after-dinner drink, Janice continued to look over her notes on the Khajuraho site. She was relieved Frank kept his attention on Sophia and Raj, who were more than willing to chat with him for the past few hours. Janice glanced over to Frank. She had to give the guy credit. After those thirteen letters, he finally did get off his ass to woo the woman. She wondered how long it would take before he got a clue and left.
Frank looked at her and smiled.
Janice’s eyes narrowed. What the hell was he smiling about?
"You and Melinda have become good friends," Frank said, drinking his scotch. Janice blinked, nodded, and returned to look over her notes, hoping that was all he'd say.
"She really seems to respect you," he added diplomatically.
Oh boy, Sophia thought and immediately stood, urging Raj to do the same. "Boy, I’m tired. How about you, Raj?"
"Yes," Raj readily agreed and stood.
Janice looked at her former friend. "But, Sophia, you can’t go back to your room now. Mel will throw you out," Janice explained with a pleased smile, thinking Sophia would have to stay and continue to talk to Frank. It seemed someone had to, and she didn’t want it to be her.
"I’ll just take your bed," Sophia said and winked, leaving a suddenly concerned archeologist alone with Frank.
"I really don't mean to annoy you, Dr. Covington," he said sincerely, getting Janice's amazed attention.
"I know, I have," he acknowledged with good humor. "It's just a bit frustrating to find out Melinda is willing to throw her life away on some temporary fancy," he said with concern.
Janice laughed. "So, is that what you've been saying to win her over? Smooth," she snorted and sipped her drink.
"I'm just saying what I think," he said defensively.
"So is Mel. But you seem to think Mel’s opinion doesn’t count. Why is that?"
"You seriously can't think that she would be better off with you. Do you know that she actually told me that she belongs at your side?" Frank blurted incredulously, surprising the archeologist. "What is going to happen to her after the years pass? She will have missed out on what she deserves, a good home, marriage, and family . . ."
She had to agree. Mel did deserve a good home with someone who loved her.
". . . All because of her misguided loyalty to you," he said, earning a raised brow. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to insult you," he said sincerely. "I just want the best for Melinda."
"So do I," Janice said softly, sipping her drink.
"Would you talk to her, please?" Frank asked uneasily, surprising her. "She seems to respect your opinion," he ventured.
"Especially when I agree with her," Janice said dryly, getting a smile from Frank, who frowned when she added. "Which I do, in this case."
"Dr. Covington," he said thoughtfully. "If you are truly care about her, you should ask her to think about what she is missing out on. You should ask how much this life of roaming around the globe with you, might be costing her, if she doesn’t settle down soon."
Janice eyed him. "You know, Chuck," she said. He sighed.
"When Mel first arrived at my camp, I actually tried to convince her she didn’t belong. And I was, well, an ass. But she surprised the hell out of me. She really is serious about being a translator and you know what? She’s damn good at it. It’s obvious to anyone who takes the time to look, she loves it," she said honestly.
He frowned. "She could still translate, back home," he countered.
"But that’s not what she wants. Why would I try and tell her that what she wants doesn't matter? Why would I try and stop her from pursuing her dreams? Why would I want her to ignore her happiness?" Janice shook her head and snorted. "You’d have a better chance of wooing her with chocolate."
Frank looked at her. "So, that’s a no, huh?" Frank asked wryly.
Janice chuckled. "You are a sharp one, Stan."
Frank rolled his eyes and laughed softly.
"So tell me," Janice said. "What's so damn special about barbeque?"
***
Mel pushed up her glasses, reviewing the introduction again. She had wondered why on Earth Gabrielle would feel the need to document such intimate information, in graphic detail, that would be seen by strangers. She found a partial answer, or at least the bard’s philosophy in the first scroll.
Dedicated to women who yearn to celebrate their love to its fullest.
Love is a continuous journey, where lovers can quickly lose their way if the three aspects of love - the physical, emotional, and spiritual - are not mutually explored and satisfied.
Within these scrolls simple ideas are presented to help show those women the way of love.
Mel studied the first scroll again, looking at the first erotic illustration. The naked lovers were on a bed, kissing. With their legs entwined and arms wrapped around each other, it appeared as if their bodies were one. She swallowed hard, imagining the archeologist’s warm, firm flesh pressed into her body . . . like that.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at another image of the lovers, tenderly kissing and touching. The Greek caption beneath it read:
Sex is a language of love, serving to unite a couple in body, mind, and spirit. This language should be spoken thoughtfully, each touch an opportunity to communicate what is in the heart, be it a sweet tenderness or a hungry passion.
Mel bit her lip, recalling both tenderness and hunger in the hallway. Blowing out a long breath, she returned her attention to another scroll, the one on positions, and an illustration that made her uncomfortable. She cringed slightly at the graphic image of each lover's head buried between the other's legs.
Lovers who wish to achieve simultaneous climax through oral stimulation may find it difficult at first, but with patience, practice, and good humor, skill and enjoyment will increase.
Mel’s worries flooded back, considering there were some acts, like this one, she was not so sure she wanted to engage in. What would Janice expect? And what would Janice think if she didn't want to do those things? Did that mean she really was frigid? She shook her head trying to dismiss those doubts, recalling how she felt when they had kissed. She was certainly not feeling frigid then.
Returning to another scroll, Mel gazed at the illustration of the lovers, fully clothed and sitting near each other. Gabrielle was writing in a scroll and Xena was sharpening a sword. Mel read the accompanying text, which seemed not as neatly written as usual, but no less sage.
Pleasure can be derived from simple, silent companionship.
Being comfortable around someone in silence was a gift, she considered. From many nights of working and living in their shared tent, she and Janice had achieved that level of comfort. But that wasn’t enough anymore, she acknowledged and glanced at another, curious illustration in a different scroll.
The bard was kneeling behind the warrior, who oddly, wore a simple white frock, instead of her usual nudity or her occasional battle dress. One hand possessed Xena's breast as the other pulled her head back, exposing the warrior’s neck, which the bard bit almost like . . . a vampire? Mel swallowed hard as she read the caption.
Shedding inhibitions and sharing fantasies not only offers a new dimension to intimacy, but new opportunities for pleasure.
Mel’s attention returned to the picture of Gabrielle dominating her willing victim. Mel imagined the feel of Janice’s hand upon her breast and the feel of Janice’s teeth sinking into her vulnerable flesh. With a flood of arousal washing over her and settling between her legs with a warm, persistent throbbing, Mel groaned and stood up, starting to pace. She was almost as frustrated as she was after Janice’s kiss.
If sex was really a language, Mel wondered if she would ever be fluent. How could a fantasy arouse her yet not that other act? Mel pushed her glasses up uneasily and eyed the table of scrolls before shaking her head and continuing to pace. Would Janice be disappointed or worse, repulsed by a particular fantasy? What if just they didn't want the same things physically??
Knocking on the door caused the troubled woman to jump.
"I am not going to try and stay," Janice announced as she walked in with a pot of tea. "I was just checking in. How’s it going?" Janice asked as she placed the pot down next to the Southerner's empty cup.
"Uh, good," Mel said uneasily, attempting to be nonchalant as she walked to the table and rolled up the fantasy and positions scrolls.
"Pictures probably help," Janice suggested with amusement, eyeing a picture of the two lovers . . . sitting on a log? She frowned, scratching her chin. This wasn’t exactly the kind of picture she was expecting from the others she had briefly seen, or what Sophia kept snickering about. Maybe it was a metaphor or something, Janice considered, focusing curiously on the warrior, who was sharpening her sword.
"Actually, they tend to be more of a distraction," Mel said, sighing.
Janice looked up from the scrolls at the exhausted looking woman. "After working on all these, I bet you’re ready for bed now, aren’t you?"
"W . . .What??"
"You look tired."
"Oh," Mel said in a small voice as her eyes dropped with embarrassment. "I am kind of tired," she offered weakly.
"It’s not surprising, you’ve worked hard and it’s past midnight," Janice said, prompting the Southerner to look at her watch with surprise.
"Where’s Sophia? She must be ready for bed."
"You don’t have to worry about her. She’s getting her beauty sleep. She stole my bed," Janice groused.
"And you’ve been hovering around outside until now?"
"Nah. Just finished up with a nice long conversation with Ned," she said with a shrug.
Mel cringed. "I'm sorry, Janice."
"Eh, he’s OK. Although, he did ask me to talk some sense into you," Janice offered, scratching the back of her neck. "Seems you’re making a big mistake following me around the world and not settling down," Janice offered, waiting for the predicted explosion.
"He does, does he?!?" Mel snapped. She was livid. How dare he! How dare Frank try to use Janice’s friendship to change her mind! And why was Janice telling her this??
"And what do you think, Dr. Covington?!?" She asked in challenge. After a moment of silence, Mel felt a little uneasy.
"Are you happy?" Janice asked.
Any anger Mel still felt, quickly melted away. "Yes, Janice. I am happy," Mel said softly with a smile, making Janice nod with satisfaction.
"I think that’s what’s important, Mel," Janice offered. Mel’s smile grew. "Hal did point out a big problem that we can’t ignore, though," Janice admitted gravely.
"W. . .What problem?" Mel said with alarm.
"The chances of finding good Southern barbeque in India are very low."
Mel looked at her with surprise then chuckled softly. "I kind of figured that, but I didn’t have the heart to tell you."
"I’d rather know the horrible truth up front, than have you let me get my hopes up," Janice said, then awkwardly added "Especially about something as important as barbeque."
Mel looked at her curiously.
Janice met her gaze. "He's convinced he knows what's right for you."
"Because he doesn’t listen," Mel said wearily.
"Well, I can’t really blame him. I know I wouldn't want to hear there’s no chance with you," Janice said softly, surprising and pleasing Mel with the simple admission. "I should let you get some sleep," Janice suddenly blurted, starting to leave.
"Halt!" Mel blurted, startling the archeologist, who stopped in her tracks. "As you are aware, Dr. Covington, I’m pretty good at counting. And if Sophia and Raj have the two beds in the other room, where do you think you’ll be sleeping??"
"My room, on the flo. . . ." Janice started, then saw the intense glare of disapproval. "I’ll wake Sophia up and send her here?" Janice weakly offered instead.
"Janice, there's no need."
"Uh. . . . "
"There’s an empty bed here," Mel announced unnecessarily. Janice was aware of that, well aware. But she figured it would be better for both of them if they just ignored that little fact.
"Ah," Janice responded unenthusiastically, glancing over to Sophia’s bed and nodded weakly.
"For heaven’s sake, Janice. It's not like we haven't roomed together before," Mel said, sensing her hesitation.
True, Janice considered, but knew things were different now. Come on Covington, it’s not like you haven’t had to control your urges before, she considered, eyeing the bed. Though before, Janice hadn’t known Mel’s touch, the gentle caress of her fingers, the warm breath tickling her ear, the taste of soft, welcoming lips, or eager hands kneading her back as they pressed into each other in a passionate em. . . .
Janice blinked. Nope. Nuht uh. Not a good idea, Janice quickly concluded and was going to decline that offer, until she heard a sad voice.
"But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable," Mel said weakly, unable to explain how much she had really missed just sleeping near her the past few evenings.
Janice sighed, resigning herself to the fact she would do whatever Mel wanted.
"No, no," Janice blurted, dismissively waving her hand. "I’ll be fine, here. Thanks," Janice awkwardly acquiesced and sat on Sophia's bed.
All evidence of Mel’s disappointment disappeared when she smiled, making Janice pleased with her decision, even though it was likely going to kill her.
Wonder how the Yankees are doing, Janice thought as she unlaced her boot.
As Mel started to get ready for bed and turned out the lamp on the table, worry suddenly creased her brow when she heard Janice’s boot hit the floor, then the other. She’s getting undressed, for bed. SLEEP, Mel reminded herself, nervously glancing to the archeologist, who took off her socks then stood to take her trousers off.
Janice looked up as Mel quickly averted her gaze. Dropping her own eyes, she started to unbuckle her belt and hesitated, knowing she didn’t have a nightshirt. There were two options. The first one she didn’t think was prudent and likely to give the nervous Southerner a heart attack. She would have to go with the second option. It’s not like she hasn’t slept in her clothes before, Janice considered.
Mel suddenly appeared at her side, startling her. She held out one of her shirts. "It’ll save you from getting all wrinkled," Mel said shyly, pushing up her glasses.
"Uh, thanks," Janice said with mild surprise, accepting the top.
With great efficiency and averted gazes, the women changed and jumped into their respective beds. They both took deep breaths and stared at the ceiling. Janice glanced over to her roommate as Mel placed her glasses on the night stand.
"Once you’re done with the translation, we should go to Khajuraho. We might find more leads on where they found the scrolls," Janice offered with infectious enthusiasm.
"Is this where I get to say I told you so?" Mel said with a big smile, propping her head on her hand as she eyed the archeologist, who was clearly happy about the find, almost as if a burden had been lifted.
Janice chuckled. "I’m surprised it took you this long, Miss Pappas."
"But I was right, wasn’t I ?" Mel said silkily, making Janice grin. "I know you can say it, Janice. 'You were right.' It’s not that hard," Mel said with amusement in her voice.
"You know, I’m glad you suggested I sleep here. It sure beats Sophia's wrath or the floor," Janice offered, fluffing Sophia’s pillow before laying back with a long, contented exhale.
"Ughh." Mel sighed dramatically, rolling on her back with an arm draped over her forehead. "How long must I wait, before you finally admit it and say those three little words?"
"Now remember what Grandpappy Pappas said . . . ."
"Grandpappy Pappas?!?" Mel laughed.
"Good barbeque is like your hard-fought victory. You want to savor it now, but you're just gonna have to wait," Janice said firmly, in a gruff, Southern accent.
"Dr. Covington!" Mel blurted as she sat up. "Not only have you managed to insult me and my grandfather, you have just insulted the proud Southern tradition of barbeque!" Mel announced with as much indignation as she could muster. "And that, Dr. Covington, can only mean one thing."
"Ohpfthft?" Janice said as a pillow hit her in the face as the Southerner declared "WAR!!"
"Hey! What is it with you and throwing things at me?" Janice said, chuckling, then shrugged and inspected the projectile. "Perfect, thanks."
"Wh . . . ? Give me my pillow back!" Mel ordered when Janice placed it on her other pillow and fluffed it.
"Yep. Real nice," she said, laying back with a sigh of pleasure.
"Janice? Would you please give me my pillow back?" Mel asked sweetly, thinking that would do the trick.
"Remember Grandpappy Pappas’ other advice," Janice said through a giggle.
"Tread carefully, Dr. Covington."
"Pillows are like pork chops," Janice announced.
"What?!?" Mel blurted with a laugh, then suddenly asked "Have you been drinking, Janice?"
"Once you throw one away, you really don’t want it back," Janice added sagely. Mel looked at her an incredulous moment, blinking at the surprisingly silly archeologist. She couldn’t help but laugh.
"I didn't throw it away," Mel attempted to argue and got up. "I just threw it at you. Entirely different," Mel said dismissively, earning more giggling. "So now, I want my pillow back," Mel informed her, standing in front of Janice with her hands on her hips, attempting to be intimidating. She also tapped her foot impatiently for good measure.
"And I suppose you’d have no problem taking back a pork chop you threw too!" Janice accused, clutching the pillow tightly in front of her.
"How can you possibly suggest that?" she responded indignantly. "What sort of Southern lady do you think I am?!?"
"One without a pillow," Janice exhaled thoughtfully, carefully dabbing the tears from her eyes with the floppy corner of Mel’s pillow.
"Oh you think so, do you?" Mel said softly with challenge in her eyes, piquing Janice’s interest.
"Oh my! Look at that! Over there," Mel said innocently, pointing behind Janice, who howled at the clever, clever woman.
Seizing the opportunity, Mel tried to seize the pillow, which the laughing archeologist wasn’t prepared to surrender.
"Ahh!!" Mel lost her balance, losing in the tug of war, plopping down next to Janice, who laughed harder.
A loud pounding on their wall startled them into silence. They looked at each other with surprise as a muffled neighbor yelled at them, then burst into laughter.
"Shhh!" Janice scolded the tall woman, who sat up without letting go of the pillow. "You’re too loud."
"Me?!?" Mel said, tugging at it with an attempted pout, which was difficult as she kept smiling.
"Yes, you. The woman who declared war and started to throw things at me?"
"What?" Mel said innocently, tugging at the pillow again, without success. "I’m the one who’s been insulted and abused by a barbeque heathen, who seems to derive unusual pleasure from torturing her helpless victims," she said, noting with surprise how quickly the smile and amusement disappeared from Janice’s face.
"Janice, I . . . I was only making fun," she said.
Janice glanced at Mel an uneasy moment then to the pillow, which she returned.
"Janice? I didn’t mean anything," Mel said with growing alarm.
Janice nodded neutrally. "But you do worry, about what I’ll do. Ever since that day at the airstrip."
"I . . . Janice, I know you would never hurt me," Mel said with concern.
"I’d rather shoot myself. But I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt those men again," Janice said with a deadly serious gaze.
"I know. You were protecting us in a bad situation. And I know I was incredibly unfair to you. I . . . I’m so sorry," Mel said guiltily.
Janice took a breath to ask why, but instead, glanced at her watch. "It’s getting late," she said neutrally and waited for Mel to return her own bed.
With Janice’s silence, Mel could almost see that door to Janice’s heart shut. Mel couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t! Taking a deep breath, Mel nervously blurted "Wilson Pendelton."
Janice eyed her with surprise. Out of all the things Mel could have possibly said, she never expected that. Of course, Mel always did seem to know how to get her attention.
Mel looked at her, then the pillow she held tightly in her hands. "He was a young man I had dated for a while. Almost a year," she said with a shrug. "My family loved him," she blurted with a weak smile. "He was charming, witty, good looking, and very attentive. He even seemed interested in what I had to say," Mel said and laughed without humor.
The Southerner nervously pushed up her glasses. She didn’t dare look at Janice, fearing she’d be unable to continue.
"One day, he had decided he wanted more than I could give. He complained I never, well, we were never very . . . physical. It never really interested me . . . ," Mel said then shyly glanced towards Janice and awkwardly added ". . . before."
Janice covered Mel’s hand with hers, still not sure why Mel was relaying this story, but knew it was difficult for her.
"All of a sudden, he became an entirely different person. He was . . . cruel," Mel recalled that horrible evening with a shudder.
"Did he . . . ?" Janice asked softly, though her anger skyrocketed.
"No, thank the Lord and a well-placed knee," Mel said wryly then sighed heavily. "He said he could have gotten a good-looking woman and only bothered with me because of my money," Mel said with a wince.
Wilson Pendelton was a name she would remember, Janice vowed. "He was a bastard, Mel. A blind bastard," Janice spat, getting a small smile from the Southerner.
"The most embarrassing thing was, he wasn’t the first to be interested in my money," Mel admitted uneasily. "Wilson just happened to be a much better actor than the others. He had us all fooled."
Janice’s jaw clenched.
"I thought he was a good friend. Then he . . . well" Mel said looking into Janice’s sympathetic eyes. "I trusted him and he . . . he wasn’t the man I thought he was."
The revelation smacked Janice in the head like a two-by-four. "And I wasn’t the woman you wanted me to be," Janice said hollowly, retracting her hand from Mel’s. As much as she hated to disappoint the people she cared about, Janice knew she could never pretend to be something she wasn’t. Not even for Mel.
"Janice," Mel said with concern, grabbing her hand back. "I am so sorry I reacted as I did," Mel said sincerely. "I was afraid I had made another mistake in judgment. I was afraid the person I trusted most, really wasn’t the sweet woman I have come to . . . . " Mel admitted nervously.
"I am not sweet," Janice interjected bluntly, not wanting any illusions to continue.
Mel’s eyes narrowed. "Janice Covington, please do not argue with me while I’m trying to apologize to you," she scolded her, surprising the archeologist, who blinked.
One thing was certain, she never had to guess if Miss Pappas was pleased or not. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? Honesty? Mel was just reacting honestly that day. She was just afraid, something Janice could fully understand.
"Sorry," Janice said as a small smile emerged. Mel had to be the only person she had ever met who would actually yell at you while apologizing. "I just don’t want you to put me on any pedestals, Mel. We’ll both end up disappointed when I fall off."
"I know you’re not perfect Janice. Believe me," Mel said wearily, rolling her eyes. She smiled at Janice’s confused look, as if deciding whether she had just been insulted.
"And you should know," Mel added, then leaned towards her ear to admit in a whisper. "I’m not perfect . . . ," she said and pulled away from Janice, looking into her beautiful eyes, then at her lips. ". . . either."
"I suppose," Janice said and leaned slightly closer. "You’ll be annoyed," she said and closed the distance a bit more. "If I argue about that," she said, their lips almost touching. "too."
"See? You are . . . ," Mel said softly as their breaths mingled. ". . . sweet," Mel said before crossing the remaining distance between them.
Their kiss was soft and slow. Each savored the intimate contact as their lips greeted each other with small, gentle caresses.
Janice felt the beauty of Mel’s face, exploring the soft skin and proud lines with gentle fingers. Mel sighed at her tender touch, that stirred her own desire for exploration. Her hands slowly traveled along the archeologist’s arms, pausing to indulgently squeeze her firm muscles, before arriving at her shoulders, which also received a firm caress.
The Southerner broke their kiss and looked into Janice’s eyes a moment before gently pushing her back onto the bed. Though surprised by Mel’s boldness, Janice welcomed it, quickly reaching out to pull her into another kiss. The soft and slow kisses were forgotten, replaced by hungry possession.
Feeling the Southerner’s hardened nipples through the nightshirt pressing into her, Janice moaned. But the delicious fog of arousal did not blind Janice to the fact that they would be far more comfortable laying fully on the bed, not across it with their legs still dangling over the side. Janice wanted their first time to be as comfortable as she could make it for Mel.
With difficulty, Janice broke the kiss and said "we should move up" before the incredibly focused Southerner distracted her with another searing kiss.
Mel moaned, though it wasn’t clear if she was agreeing or just reacting to her blissful state. Her kisses traveled over Janice’s cheek to her neck as her hand boldly traveled down Janice’s chest, finding the mound of flesh she sought. She kneaded it through the material, her thumb stroking the already hardened tip as she sunk her teeth into Janice’s neck and suckled her flesh.
"Oh God," Janice gasped as her arousal puddled between her legs.
The amazed Southerner pulled back slightly to look at the archeologist. From the rise and fall of her Janice’s chest, Mel could see her breathing was just as rapid as her own. Her doubts about being able to please the worldly archeologist faded as Janice arched into the attentive hand with a stirring moan, prompting Mel to possess Janice’s mouth as her arousal soared to new heights, almost making the Southerner forget that they were not in the most comfortable position on the bed.
Wanting their first time to be as comfortable and enjoyable as it could be, Mel kissed her way towards the archeologist’s ear and whispered. "We should . . . move up . . . on the bed," Mel said with difficulty as Janice was attentively peppering her neck with wet kisses, making her way to Mel’s ear. The warm wetness engulfing Mel’s earlobe and the soft vibration of Janice’s "umm hmmm," brought a surprisingly powerful jolt to the Southerner’s womanhood.
The next few moments were a blur as they attempted to get more comfortable while continuing to express their long, pent-up passion. The two would later agree that Janice zigged when Mel zagged, causing the archeologist to also experience a powerful jolt to her womanhood.
"Uugh!" Janice yelped in pain after a hard knee solidly connected.
"Janice!" Mel gasped, quickly jumping up, off of the bed, to watch in horror as the
injured archeologist slowly curled up into the fetal position.
"I’m . . . OK," Janice squeaked as tears filled her blinking eyes.
Mel was mortified.
After several moments of uneasy breaths, the fog of blinding pain slowly lifted, leaving behind a dull, unpleasant ache. Janice sat up gingerly and looked over to the disturbingly silent Southerner.
"Mel?"
The distraught Southerner turned away from the archeologist, ashamed of her ineptness.
"Mel? I’m fine. . . well, I will be in a while," Janice joked as she shifted uncomfortably. She frowned when she heard sniffing.
"I’m . . . s. . . sorry," Mel said, struggling not to cry as she retreated to her bed and sat, unable to face the archeologist.
"Hey," Janice said, awkwardly getting up from the bed with a muffled moan. She couldn’t stand seeing Mel so upset. Carefully sitting on the bed behind her, Janice reached out for Mel’s shoulder.
"Please don’t," Mel said, recoiling from the touch as her head dropped further in shame.
"I thought you enjoyed my touch," Janice said softly.
"I doooo," Mel said as tears fell. "But it’s not safe for you!" She moaned miserably.
"Mel, accidents happen. Even in bed."
"You don’t have to say that. It should be p . . . painfully obvious," Mel said, struggling with her breath as she wiped tears from her eyes.
"What’s obvious?"
"I’m lousy in bed!" Mel said, losing against the tears that fell.
"Have your other lovers told you that??"
"There are no others!" She quickly blurted. "You’re my first . . . almost," Mel said as tears rolled down her cheek.
"Well then, I’m not sure where you are getting your information. You’re . . . amazing," Janice said honestly.
"How can you say that?!?" Mel bemoaned. "I practically maimed you! And I don’t know what you want. I’m not even sure I can do everything you’ll want!!" Mel blurted and finally just broke down into sobs.
"Oh sweetheart," Janice said, reaching out to the Southerner, who put up a weak struggle before accepting the comfort of Janice’s embrace. Mel continued to cry as Janice rocked her, gently rubbing her back. After a while, when the sobs faded into sniffles, the embarrassed Southerner pulled back. When she started to awkwardly wipe tears away with her trembling hand, Janice stopped her, tenderly caressing away the tears for her.
"I know you’ll be shocked to hear this . . . but," Janice said softly. "We need to talk," she said with a small smile. Mel looked at her uneasily.
"Good Lord. I must have hit you harder than I thought," Mel said, sniffing.
Janice chuckled, relieved Mel was able to joke. "I’m better now, thank you."
"I am so sorry," Mel said with a cringe.
"Mel, I told you, accidents happen. And I’ve had my share of embarrassing situations in bed."
"With Sophia?" Mel blurted, immediately wanting to take it back.
"That wasn’t what I was thinking of, but she did break my foot a few years ago," Janice offered.
Mel looked at her with surprise. She wondered how someone could possibly break a foot during sex but was unable to bring herself to ask, not really wanting to hear about Janice’s intimate experiences with a prostitute at the moment.
"I was actually thinking about how I learned not to eat baked beans before a night of passion," Janice said flatly and sighed.
Mel couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up and escaped. She immediately covered her mouth, feeling dreadful for laughing at Janice’s windy predicament.
"It’s OK to laugh, Mel," Janice said, chuckling as she shook her head at the memory that was rather embarrassing at the time. "Unexpected and embarrassing things are bound to happen. We’re only human," Janice said and took a hand in hers. "And I really, really hope that this experience doesn’t discourage you from trying again," Janice said. "Really," she added with a small grin.
Mel looked at her with a shy smile and nodded.
"I also want you to understand something, Mel. The only expectation I have is that you enjoy yourself."
"But what if . . . ," Mel asked then fell silent, flushed with embarrassment.
"What?" Janice softly urged her to continue.
"What if you want something and . . . There are things in those scrolls that I . . . I don’t know if I can do," Mel admitted with a cringe.
"Don't worry, I won't ask you to sharpen any swords," Janice said with a grin, then squeezed her hand. "Mel, seriously, you should never feel obligated or pressured to do something you don’t feel comfortable with. I just hope I never place you in that position. But if I do, please tell me."
Mel smiled and nodded, feeling incredibly relieved as well as thoroughly exhausted. The emotional roller coaster she had been on this evening was taking its toll, resulting in a large yawn. She looked at Janice sheepishly. "Sorry."
Janice smiled and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. "Come on. We should get some sleep," she said, getting up.
Mel sighed unhappily but knew Janice was right. She was tired and Janice was probably still sore, she thought with a wince and slipped under her sheets. She watched Janice turn out the light. Her first . . . almost, she considered with a bittersweet smile, certain it wouldn’t be long before she wouldn’t have to say "almost."
To her surprise, Janice returned to her bedside. "Would you mind company?" She asked softly, eyeing the bed then the Southerner. Mel stared at her a surprised moment, then eagerly moved over and pulled her covers aside in invitation.
Janice smiled and joined Mel, who joked nervously "Aren’t you worried about your safety, Dr. Covington?"
"I laugh at danger," she said defiantly, grabbing Mel’s arm and pulling it around her as she turned on her side. "Ha!"
Mel was amazed how easily Janice, even when joking, could sooth her nerves and make her feel so . . . special. Janice shifted a few times to get into a comfortable position, pulling Mel and her arm along with her. When she finally stopped moving, Janice sighed contentedly.
"Comfortable?" Mel asked with amusement, feeling oddly like a blanket.
"Yep," Janice said and glanced back, over her shoulder. "You?"
"Yes," Mel responded with mild amazement. She felt more comfortable than she had ever thought possible. She kissed Janice on the temple, lingering a moment before whispering "Good night, Janice."
"Good night, Mel."
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