by Enginerd
The taxi ride to the Colonel’s office was odd, Mel thought. Janice was unusually talkative.
"He did it before, when we were younger," Janice said critically. "Her name was Chandra. She was in the Sudras caste....an artisan. But he wouldn’t say one word to her. He’d just steal glimpses of her when she’d do laundry," Janice said, shaking her head. "I can’t believe Raj chickened out talking to Sophia. I thought he had overcome his caste," Janice continued. "But he still thinks he’s not good enough, which is pure bull shit," Janice said, then eyed Mel with a cringe. "Sorry."
Mel pushed up her glasses. "Well, I can understand him feeling intimidated by her. He is a quiet person and she . . . isn’t."
Janice looked over to her and countered "He needs to follow his heart."
Mel reached for Janice’s hand and squeezed it. "Easier said than done, Janice," Mel said.
Janice looked at their hands a moment then the Southerner with a small smile. "Yeah," she acknowledged, then turned to look out the window. "Yeah," she repeated with a thoughtful sigh.
***
"With time to spare!" Sophia laughed as she stretched her back.
"Are you sure they won’t get mad?" Frank asked uneasily as they returned to the hotel office, dabbing his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief.
"You shouldn’t worry too much," Sophia said with amusement, confident they did the right thing. Raj smiled at Sophia.
"Do you blame me? I’ve seen what they are capable of when they are not happy," Frank joked, getting a laugh from his friends as they joined Mrs. Singhare in the office.
"It is so sad she had never reconciled with her mother," Mrs. Singhare said with a heavy sigh as she made lemonade for them.
"Yes," Najihma whispered, looking at her mother miserably.
"They chose their paths, Najihma," Mrs. Singhare said, taking her daughter’s hand in hers.
Sophia watched the mother and daughter, knowing Janice’s relationship with her mother had ended badly. It was so sad, she thought with a sigh.
"Sophia? Could we go for a walk?" Frank asked, getting a surprised look from Sophia.
Raj looked at the two as Mrs. Singhare handed him a glass of lemonade. He smiled weakly at the older woman and thanked her.
"Sure," Sophia said with a shrug and left with the tall man.
Raj sipped his lemonade, eyeing the two as they walked out the front of the hotel. "What is bothering you Raj?" Najihma asked, suspecting it involved the popular Greek.
"Nothing. What makes you think something is bothering me?" Raj said quickly.
Mrs. Singhare rolled her eyes. "I am going home," she said, kissing her daughter’s cheek and left the two old friends to their lemonade.
***
They walked slowly as Frank gathered his thoughts. "So . . .?" Sophia said, trying to prompt discussion.
"Have you ever wanted to go to America?" Frank asked out of the blue. Sophia eyed him with surprise, then looked back at the hotel with narrow eyes.
"Uh, I guess, someday I’d like to visit," she said with a weak smile, knowing what he was going to ask next.
"How about you visit now. With me?" Frank blurted. "You and me? What do you say?" He said, looking at her with hope as she blinked at him.
***
As they waited for the Colonel to return with Mrs. Covington’s possessions, Janice was unable to sit still and looked around his office as Mel patiently sat, watching her. After quickly looking over the large collection of law and philosophy books that held no particular interest for her, other than to admire the leather binding and gold leaf, she picked up a carved stone paperweight with interest, then placed it down when she found a small letter opener that was a replica of an officer’s sword.
"Heh," she snorted, jabbing at a very small, imaginary enemy. Mel shook her head with mild amusement.
When she picked up an incredibly delicate-looking crystal vase and looked it over, Mel cringed. "Janice . . . ."
"Sweetheart, don’t worry. Trust me when I tell you, I know how and when to be gentle," Janice said suggestively and looked her over with appreciation.
Mel stared at her an amazed moment, not really sure how to respond. Thankfully, she didn’t have to as the Colonel returned to the office, bringing with him the personal effects of Elizabeth Covington.
They both looked at the small box with surprise.
***
"Raj, you make me glad there is no carpet!" Najihma said, sitting down as she eyed the man pace back and forth on the office’s wood floors.
He halted and sat down in a chair, tapping his foot nervously.
"I am truly glad nothing is bothering you," she said conversationally. "I would hate to see what state you would be in if you were actually worried," Najihma said with amusement as she rinsed their glasses in the small sink.
He looked at her with frustration and sighed heavily.
***
"Thanks for your help, Colonel," Janice said taking the offered box. Mel eyed the box, then Janice curiously.
"I wish things could have turned out better," he said sincerely.
Janice looked at him with a small smile. "What’s done is done," she said with a disconcerting lack of emotion, Mel thought.
"Yes," Colonel Whitcomb said softly, then extended his hand to the archeologist who shook it firmly. "Good luck to you, Dr. Covington. Miss Pappas," he said, shaking the Southerner’s hand.
As they got into their cab and drove away from the Colonel’s office, Mel noted that Janice hadn’t expressed any interest in looking inside the box. All Janice had said about the box was "small, isn’t it?"
***
Sophia returned to the office with Frank. Raj jumped up and looked at them, then felt a bit self-conscious. "Nice walk?" he asked uneasily.
Sophia looked at Frank uneasily as he blurted "I should start packing," he added then looked at Najihma. "This trip has certainly been . . . an eye opener," he said with a smile "Take care of yourself Raj," he said, patting Raj on the back, then left for his room.
Raj looked at him curiously, then back to Sophia, who eyed him with irritation. "So, Raj," she said, crossing her arms. "I don’t suppose you have something to say to me."
Raj swallowed and looked at Najihma, who quickly left the office and went to the front desk to straighten up the miscellaneous papers that suddenly needed to be straightened up.
"Yes," Raj said with forced confidence, then fell silent.
"Well I’m glad we’ve got that settled," Sophia blurted flatly then stepped up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. When Sophia stepped backed, she eyed the Indian man. "You’ve got nice lips," she said with a smile.
"Yours are . . . exceptional," he gushed with airy amazement.
She grinned. "So, if I were interested in touring this country of yours, I don’t suppose you would mind being my personal guide?"
"I would be honored," he smiled, then grew concerned. "But . . . I have not seen much of my country’s treasures. I am afraid I would not be much of a tour . . . ."
"Raj!!" Najihma burst into the office with frustration. "I do not think even Ganesh himself can help you! She is not asking you because she needs a tour guide. Can you not see she wants your company?!? A blessing from the Gods to be sure! Just say YES, and accept their gift!" Najihma said her piece and shook her head at the impossibly dense man, and retreated from the office to the front desk once again.
"Will that be a yes?" Sophia asked with amusement.
"Yes," Raj said with a smile.
"They’re back!" Najihma said anxiously, poking her head into the office.
***
On their trip back to the hotel, Mel couldn’t help but wonder what Janice was thinking. She would have torn into that box had it been her mother’s possessions. Though she knew they had profoundly different relationships with their mothers, she couldn’t understand why Janice didn’t seem the least bit curious about the items her mother had found so valuable as to ensure they were passed to her family upon her death.
Janice looked at the box in her lap a moment, then sighed looking out the window.
When they pulled up to the hotel, Sophia, Najihma, Frank, and Raj stood at the curb, prompting the archeologist to curse under her breath. They descended upon the cab. Like vultures, Janice thought with a cringe.
"I’ll take care of it," Mel offered as the cab stopped. She opened the door to find Sophia standing directly in front of her with a big smile.
"Change in plans," Sophia said cryptically. Frank and Najihma nodded.
Janice got out and joined Mel’s side, though her eyes narrowed and followed Raj, who went to talk with the cab driver, slipping him an address with a large tip. The driver quickly agreed with an enthusiastic nod.
"You have a small trip to take. A gift from Najihma and Sophia," Raj blurted, as their friends nodded with smiles.
"I hear it’s bad karma to refuse a gift from friends," Frank joked with a smile.
"You will like it, trust me," Najihma added warmly. Mel looked at her friends curiously then at Janice, who was not amused.
"Your luggage is already there," Sophia noted.
"What the fuck did you do with our luggage??" Janice blurted.
"Where is there?" Mel asked more calmly.
"What the FUCK are . . . . "
"Janice! Please."
"But. . . ."
"Frank? Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?" Mel said, trying to gain some control of the situation.
"Yes. Take care of yourself, Mel," he said. He stepped to her and gently kissed her cheek.
"That’s it! I’m kicking his ass," Janice snarled.
"Janice, please!" Mel scolded her again, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"But. . . ." Janice frowned, looking at the hand then her tall partner.
"Good bye, Dr. Covington," Frank said, holding out a hand. Janice looked at the hand with irritation.
"Janice?" Mel said.
Janice frowned harder and begrudgingly took the man’s hand in a firm shake.
Prompted by incredible curiosity and a sudden bout of insanity, Frank pulled Janice towards him and planted a firm kiss upon her lips. When he stepped back, he was no closer to the answer of what all that fuss was about the archeologist. He glanced at Raj, then Sophia, then Najihma, seeing each with gaping mouths and shocked expressions.
He realized the enormity of his mistake when the stunned look on Janice’s face melted into anger. He swallowed uneasily and looked at Mel, who suddenly pushed the archeologist back into the taxi cab and climbed in behind her. As she shut the door, everyone could clearly hear the smaller woman’s threat.
"He’s dead!" Janice snapped, trying to climb out the other door to fulfill her promise.
"Janice, please! Murder is still illegal in India," Mel said, holding on to Janice for Frank’s dear life.
Raj snapped out of his shock and shouted to the driver "Jao! Jao! Abhi!!"
Understanding enough, the cab driver peeled away from the curb, hurling the women against the back seat, and headed to the address on the piece of paper.
Frank smiled uneasily at the three pairs of eyes that stared at him with amazement, feeling a funny churn in the pit of his stomach.
"It is a good thing he’s leaving the country," Sophia noted to Najihma and started up the hotel steps with the Indian, who shook her head.
"It will just take longer for Janice to hunt him down," Najihma said as the women entered the hotel.
"Funny," Frank called out and watched Raj return to the sidewalk, glancing at him uneasily as he passed. "She wouldn’t hunt me down . . . would she?" He asked the Indian nervously.
"You should not worry," Raj said with a weak smile and returned to the hotel, leaving Frank on the sidewalk.
The Southern gentleman smiled with relief, then frowned. "Hey . . . what does that mean?!?"
***
"Stop the goddamn cab!" Janice snapped at the driver who happily continued his driving, having a big incentive to ignore her. He had been promised another large tip at the end of the trip.
"Janice," Mel said and rolled her eyes.
"Stop the goddamn cab!" Janice shouted.
"Janice! For heaven’s sake, calm down."
"Calm down?!?" Janice asked incredulously.
"Yes. Calm. Down," Mel said slowly and firmly.
Janice ground her teeth and took a breath. "You do realize we’re being kidnaped?" she said tightly, eyeing the oddly happy and oblivious driver with irritation.
"Yes, Janice."
"And that the man, who I will now have to kill, kissed me," Janice growled, wiping her lips with her forearm.
"Yes, Janice."
"And none of that bothers you?"
"Well, I trust our friends mean well," Mel said, pushing up her glasses.
"Including the one hit with a stupid stick!?!"
"Janice, I don’t think he’ll ever make the mistake of kissing you again," Mel said quietly, pushing up her glasses. "But if he does, you won’t have to worry about killing him."
"Why not?!?" Janice snarled.
"I’ll do it."
Janice looked at her a moment, then nodded, believing her. She withheld a smile as she glanced back out the window, wondering if it would be worth enduring another kiss from the idiot just to actually see that.
After many hours on the road, which Mel found a surprisingly pleasant trip, in spite of Janice's silent brooding, the taxi cab finally arrived at their destination - a small bungalow West of Khajuraho. It was nestled on a hillside, overlooking the Ganges river. A porch wrapped around the bungalow allowing the occupants a comfortable view of the river and the equally impressive garden that surrounded the building.
"Oh Janice! It’s beautiful," Mel gushed as they got out of the cab. She immediately went to explore the grounds that were obviously the product of much attention and love. She quickly disappeared through a rose-wrapped portico.
Janice warily eyed the cab that seemed to be waiting for something. If he was waiting for her to give him a tip, he had another goddamn thing coming, she thought with a growl and followed after the Southerner, with her box.
Arriving in the back yard, having easily followed her partner’s "ooohs" and "ahs," Janice was surprised by the dizzying collection of fragrant flowers and sculpted bushes that filled the garden. The chirping and singing birds apparently appreciated this sanctuary too, Janice thought. The peaceful sounds were disrupted for a moment when the taxi revved it’s engine and finally drove off. Janice frowned, knowing they were now at the mercy of whatever her so-called friends had planned.
"Oh, Janice look!" Mel said, pointing to the wooden bench that was suspended off a healthy-sized tree branch. "I haven’t been on a swing in ages," she said happily as she quickly went to it and sat down. She gently swayed and looked around with a big smile.
Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all, Janice considered with a small smile for her happy partner and glanced around curiously. It would certainly be nice to finally have some privacy, she thought, returning her gaze to the most beautiful thing in the whole garden - the happy Southerner.
"Dr. Covington and Miss Pappas." An Indian man in a white serving jacket said, suddenly appearing on the back porch, startling the archeologist. Janice did not like to be startled. "I am Pravesh. Your dinner will be ready shortly. But you have time to freshen up. Your things are in the master bedroom," he said briskly, then retreated back into the bungalow.
"Oooh. I want to see our room," Mel said with excitement, pushing her glasses up and swiftly disappearing into the house. Janice stood outside, looking around suspiciously, wondering who else might pop in and startle them. She wasn’t going to be responsible for her actions if they did, she considered.
"Janice, come on!" Mel said, poking her head back outside, then once again disappearing.
Janice followed, hesitantly ascending the three steps to the porch. Entering the building, she looked around, actually impressed. It was elegantly decorated but not ostentatious. She frowned, wondering how much her friends had forked over for this getaway.
"Come on, grumpy," Mel said from the hallway, motioning her partner to follow, then disappeared.
"Hey Pravesh?" Janice called out to the seemingly empty bungalow, except for the smell of something delicious cooking. The man suddenly appeared at her side, startling her . . . again. She almost snarled but plastered on a smile. "So we have time to . . . bathe?"
"Most certainly, Dr. Covington," he said with a slight bow. "Everything you need will be in the bedroom."
"Right," Janice said flatly and followed her partner.
***
Mel grinned as she emerged from the bedroom with the door pulled behind her. "Tell me it’s not perfect," she gushed and opened the door for Janice, presenting their accommodations.
"It’s not perfect," Janice was compelled to say as she entered the large room with its own patio and bathroom.
"Janice!" Mel said with frustration. "Why can’t you enjoy this wonderful gift from your friends?"
Janice sighed. "I’m sorry. It’s great. Very beautiful," she acknowledged with a weak smile, placing her box down on a bureau and her hat next to it.
Mel looked at the box and immediately felt guilty. The woman had just learned her mother passed away and here she was, complaining about her lack of enthusiasm for this treat.
"Why don’t we get freshened up? I bet the dinner will be delicious. It smells wonderful," Mel said softly with a small smile.
***
There was no argument when Janice suggested Mel take a bath first. The Southerner smiled, kissed her quickly, and headed to the bath with a happy bounce in her step. Janice smirked, concluding that as long as she could offer Mel a real bath every now and then, the Southerner would be content.
Sitting on the bed, she glanced around at the impressive room. Her eyes drifted to the box, which sat on the bureau, almost taunting her to open it. But it wasn’t as if it would make any difference now, she considered. Her mother was dead. She had been for almost two years and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. With a sigh, she stood and went to the bureau. Eyeing the simply carved wooden box, she sighed, considering she might as well get it over with.
After a deep breath, she opened the box. There was no letter or note. With the effort Libby took to make sure the box was held for her family, the absence of a note surprised her a little. But she really didn’t need an explanation for why Libby had never bothered to contact her or cared to be part of her life. It was made painfully clear that night. Her mother wanted nothing to do with the person she really was.
But what was still unclear was why her mother had decided to live out the rest of her life in a country which she supposedly despised. The items inside did not provide much insight, she considered, inspecting the box’s contents. There was Libby’s silver-handled brush, which she pulled out and placed on the bureau, a ring box. . . .
She focused on the ring box an uneasy moment before picking it up. Opening it, she found her mother’s wedding rings inside. Inspecting the surprisingly dull diamonds more closely, she swallowed uneasily, discovering what prevented their sparkle - dried blood.
After shutting the ring box and setting the disturbing item on the bureau, she spotted a yellowed newspaper article sticking out of a thin leather billfold. Picking up the billfold, she carefully extracted the delicate paper and gently unfolded it. The text was in Greek.
During the commencement ceremonies of nineteen hundred and thirty five, the University of Athens conferred degrees to eleven doctoral candidates: Petras T. Abatakis, Doctor of Philosophy in Literature, Janice W. Covington, Doctor of Philosophy in Archeology, with distinction, Demetrios H. Kalloposeki, Doctor of Philosophy in Music, Anthony . . . .
***
Mel tied the sash to her robe as she returned to the room, feeling refreshed and hungry. The aroma of the dinner Pravesh was preparing was making her stomach growl.
"Janice, I could really get used to . . . ." Mel joked happily, pushing up her glasses as she entered an empty room. "Janice?" She called out curiously, then noticed the open box on the bureau. She quickly glanced over the various items in and around the box, not sure of the significance of any of them, until she picked up the newspaper article and read it.
After quickly getting dressed, Mel went to find Janice. Entering the living room, she looked around. "Janice?"
"Dr. Covington is in the back," Pravesh said, glancing in that direction with concern.
"We won’t be needing your services this evening," Mel said briskly, getting a nod of understanding. ". . . or tomorrow," she added, awkwardly.
"Very good. Dinner only needs to be served," he said. "You will find everything you need in the kitchen," he said with a smile.
"Everything I need is in the garden," she countered, getting a nod of understanding. "I’ll get my purse," Mel said, intending to tip him.
"Gratuities have already been taken care of," he said with a smile, surprising the Southern lady. "Enjoy your evening," he said politely and turned to leave.
"Pravesh? How will you get home? I didn’t see a car. . . ."
"I have my bicycle, I live only a few miles from here," he said with a smile. "Good night, Miss Pappas."
She nodded absently and went to find her archeologist.
***
Janice sat on the bench swing, looking out at the Ganges meandering along as she slowly swung back and forth. The river reflected the vibrant pastels of the sky, which marked the sun’s losing battle with the night as it slipped over the hills. The stars started to come out slowly, as if mustering the courage to offer their light in the approaching darkness.
Without seeing her, Janice could feel her. She’s worried about me, Janice considered, guessing Mel was probably more upset about the news of her mother’s death than she was. It wasn’t like Janice wasn’t upset, though. Anger, a feeling that always seemed to accompany thoughts of her mother, resurfaced as she thought about the article on her graduation. If Libby cared enough to keep that goddamn article all these years, then why didn’t she care enough to be apart of her life?
Hearing footsteps stop a few yards away, she knew Mel wasn’t sure if she should join her. Looking down at the seat next to her on the bench swing, Janice took out her handkerchief and made a show of dusting off a spot beside her. "Have a seat," she called out with a small smile, looking back to the uneasy woman, who pushed up her glasses and approached.
Silently, Mel joined her on the bench, glanced at her a moment before gazing out over the river. Janice looked down at her feet as they swayed gently on the swing.
After a long moment of silence, Mel asked, "Would you rather be alone?"
Janice laughed softly and looked at the surprised Southerner. "You might not believe this, but I’ve never really wanted to be alone," she said with a shrug and looked down.
Mel took her hand. "You’re not," she said firmly with a squeeze.
Janice looked into her eyes and acknowledged that amazing truth with a silent nod.
Pleased, Mel smiled, squeezed her partner’s hand again and returned to enjoying the scenery in Janice’s silent company. The stars were exceptionally bright, she thought with appreciation, looking for various constellations. After several minutes passed, Janice broke the silence.
"What was . . ." Janice asked, then sighed, retreating into the silence again.
"What was, what?" Mel asked softly, caressing her partner’s hand.
"It’s noth . . ." Janice started to dismiss her question, but the thinly veiled look of disappointment made Janice ask her question.
"Uh . . . I was wondering, what was the last thing your mother ever said to you," Janice said. Seeing Mel cringe, she immediately apologized. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that."
Mel shook her head and answered. "Cross my heart, hope to die." She could still remember her mother’s promise and warm smile as her parents drove away, just like it was yesterday.
Janice felt the weight of those words press against her heart. Fuck.
"I made her say that. I was such a spoiled child," Mel admitted guiltily. "I was upset I wasn’t going with them to a University function. I had made her promise to come home in time to read me my bedtime story. They never made it home that night. I overheard the policeman tell my Aunt it was a horrible accident. Daddy survived. Mama didn’t," Mel said, as a few tears fell. "I’ve always wondered . . . what would have happened, had I not been so selfish."
Janice cradled Mel’s cheek, tenderly wiping away a tear that rolled down. "It was an accident, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault," she said, looking into watery blue eyes.
"I’ll always wonder, if I hadn’t demanded that they rush home . . . ," Mel said tightly and reached up and held Janice’s hand upon her cheek, cherishing their connection, even if through sadness.
"It wasn’t your fault," Janice repeated firmly and kissed her lightly on the lips. Mel sighed and rested her forehead on Janice’s for a long silent moment as if to gather her strength.
Finally pulling back, she looked into her partner’s eyes, seeing a coy smile.
"So . . . Are you busy tonight?" Janice asked.
Mel chuckled softly as she wiped the remaining dampness off her cheek. "Why, Dr. Covington! Don’t you know you are not supposed to ask someone out the same day, let alone the same hour, that you are intending for that date?"
"Good thing I’m not asking you out. We’ll be inside," Janice countered with a bright smile. "There’s food involved," she said temptingly and stood, holding out her hand.
"You sweet talker you," Mel said and took the archeologist’s hand.
***
Janice looked around the bungalow with a frown.
"What’s wrong?" Mel asked.
"I wonder where Pravesh is," Janice said, glancing at her partner.
"He’s not here," Mel said, going into the kitchen.
"How do you know he’s not just waiting to jump out at us?" Janice asked suspiciously, still looking around.
Mel smiled at her partner’s paranoia. "I gave him the night off," Mel called out as she looked through the cupboards for plates and utensils.
"Oh really?" Janice said with great interest as she joined Mel in the kitchen.
"Here," Mel said, pulling out the plates and handing them to the archeologist, who looked at them curiously.
"They’re plates, Janice," Mel said helpfully. "And these?" she offered as she placed the collection of utensils on the plate and pointed to each one as she explained. "Well, this is a fork, a knife, and a spoon. And these square clothes?" she said picking up the white linen squares. "Are napkins," she said with a chuckle at Janice’s unamused face. "You go set the table while I put the food out."
Janice muttered as she went to the dining room. "Didn’t expect to have to do work."
"Setting a table is not work. You do know how to set a table, don’t you?" Mel challenged sweetly with a grin as she looked at all the food on the stove and in the oven.
"Yes, I know how to set a table," she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she put the plates down. She grinned and started to deliberately set the table incorrectly.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Janice asked with concern as her father set the table incorrectly. She knew her mother was particular about those things, having heard her many lectures on the importance of proper etiquette as she was taught how to set a table, how to curtsey, how to write a proper letter, how to dress for a formal occasion, how to dance, how to . . . .
"It’s all about strategy, Janice." he said and finished his handiwork. "Watch and learn," he added with a wink.
"Anything else I can do, sweetheart?" Harry said sweetly to his wife, poking his head out the tent, the flaps framing his smiling face.
Libby looked up from the stew pot with surprise. She eyed her unusually helpful husband. "If I find the table set improperly, you are in BIG trouble, Mister."
Harry’s smile faltered as he slipped back into the tent. As he quickly reset the table correctly, Janice eyed him and asked innocently. "Now what strategy was I supposed to learn from that??"
"That your mother knows . . . things," he muttered.
Mel entered the dining room with a large tray of a variety of food and saw Janice staring at the table setting.
"Hungry?" Mel offered with a small smile, not wanting to point out to the proud archeologist that her setting left a lot to be desired, with the spoon and napkin wrapped together in a wad at the top of the plate, and the fork and knife on the incorrect sides. It really wasn’t that important . . . and it was only them.
Janice looked up at her with surprise then scratched the back of her head. "Yeah. Smells great. You must have slaved over that stove for what? Minutes?"
"Well, I hope you appreciate each and every second of my grueling effort," Mel said as Janice smiled and pulled out a chair for her.
"I’m sure I will . . . or you’ll remind me to," Janice said as Mel sat down and glanced at the table with a smile.
"Oh! I forgot to get the tea," Mel blurted, looking at the table, and started to get up.
"I’ll get it." Janice said, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing before going to the kitchen.
"There’s wine in there too, if you want something stronger," Mel called into the kitchen.
Janice looked around the kitchen and quickly spotted the wine rack full of various bottles. "Found it," she said and pulled out one bottle and glanced at the label. Château Dimitrés
"I can’t believe you! You know I was saving for her birthday!" Libby whispered harshly, not to disturb her daughter, who was sleeping in the next tent.
"Honey, I was . . . " he said rather loudly.
"Shhh!" Libby hissed.
"I won the first hand and thought . . . ." he continued more softly.
"You didn’t think! You couldn’t stop yourself from gambling away the small amount we had because you drank too much again," Libby snapped.
"We just had some of Dimitri’s wine," he said defensively.
"It’s always "just" something, isn’t it Harry?" she said tiredly. "Dimitri’s wine, Wally’s bourbon . . . and she’ll forgive you, you know. Every single broken promise of yours."
"We’ll do something for her birthday. Something special. Trust me," he said.
"Every time I do, we end up disappointed," Libby said with a hitch in her voice. "I’m going for a walk."
Janice eyed the bottle a long moment, then blinked and called out to Mel. "Do you want any wine?"
"No thank you, tea will be fine," Mel responded.
Janice nodded.
"I thought you got lost," Mel said with a smile and looked up as Janice finally returned with a tea pot and two cups. "You didn’t want wine?" she asked with surprise.
Janice shook her head and sat down with a small smile. "One’s senses should not be dulled when treated to a culinary feast like this, which you have obviously toiled many long seconds over," she said, pouring the tea.
Mel chuckled as she lifted her tea cup up. "To sharp senses," she said.
"To sharp senses," Janice said with a smile and gently clanked her tea cup against Mel’s and both took a sip.
***
After a delicious dinner and enjoyable conversation, they got ready for bed. "That meal alone was worth the trip," Mel said with amusement as she emerged from the bathroom, dressed for bed with a brush in hand.
"Expert serving to be sure," Janice offered magnanimously.
"You can stop now," Mel chuckled, unaware of the archeologist appreciation of her long legs. "You’ve adequately demonstrated your appreciation."
"Hardly," Janice promised with a smirk as she turned back to continue hunting for her night shirt, opening each drawer that didn’t have it with a frown.
"Third drawer on the left," Mel noted, getting a look from the archeologist, who opened the recommended drawer and pulled out a night shirt with a smile. "Don’t forget to brush your teeth," Mel suggested.
Janice looked at her with surprise.
"You want to keep those teeth nice and healthy, don’t you?" Mel offered.
Janice smiled at her with amusement as she walked to the bathroom, getting Mel to shift uncomfortably and push up her glasses.
Alone in the bed room, excitement and nervousness washed over the Southerner as she got up and surveyed the room. She recalled seeing candles in the dining room which would provide a nice romantic glow, she considered with a smile, then quickly dismissed that idea with a frown. With her track record, she’d likely burn down the bungalow and ruin another evening. She rolled her eyes and prayed she had enough wits about her to not injure her partner again.
Wonderful, she sighed dejectedly and plopped down on the edge of the bed. Instead of hoping to please her, she was hoping to do no harm. The one thing she clung onto for encouragement was their love, which she had complete faith in. The rest, she considered reasonably, would work itself out. But it was a really good thing that Janice was so tough, she thought with a small smile.
After a quick bath, which was even fast for the normally efficient bather, Janice quickly put her night shirt on and grabbed her tooth brush. As she squeezed the paste onto the brush, she paused a moment, considering this was going to be Mel’s first time ever. She took a deep breath and blinked with amazement at the incredible gift this woman was about to give her. Well, unless something else goes wrong, she thought warily. As she dutifully brushed her teeth, she reviewed her personal list of things that could ruin an evening of passion.
Physically unable? Though she still sported a couple of bruises and fresh scars, Janice was confident she was capable of intense physical activity for an extended period of time. Finally! She rolled her eyes.
Errant knees? Still a potential danger, but she was sure with Mel also being particularly cautious, they could avoid that particular mood killer.
Jealous boyfriends? There was no doubt in her mind she could take Frank. But she also knew she wouldn’t have to with Mel around, she chuckled around her brush.
Weak staircase banisters? Not a problem in this one-story bungalow. Unless they went outside on the porch to commune with nature, she reconsidered with a thoughtful "hmmmm."
Baked beans? Thankfully that cheap, tasty but unforgiving food hadn’t been on the menu this evening.
Angry mothers?
Janice stopped her brushing and blinked a few times before her eyes fell to the sink. She spit out the tooth paste and rinsed. After taking a deep breath, she snorted and completed her last item. No longer a problem - for either of them.
Returning to the bedroom, Janice found Mel sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her long black hair in her nightly ritual. She was beautiful.
"That was quick," Mel noted with surprise, glancing at her partner as she continued to brush. If Janice’s swiftness in the bathroom was any indication, the archeologist seemed to be looking forward to this too, she smiled.
"Only with things that don’t matter, sweetheart," Janice responded softly as she put her folded clothes on a chair and placed her wallet on the bureau.
"Uh, good," Mel said hesitantly and went back to brushing her hair, wondering if Janice was feeling nervous at all. Just remember you love each other and the rest will work itself out, Mel reminded herself as her brush hit a stubborn piece of hair. "Ugh! I don’t know what on Earth I did to get this knot," she complained as she attempted to untangle it.
Janice eyed her curiously, then looked at the tarnished, silver-handled brush by her wallet. Picking the brush up, she recalled the nightly battles fought with annoying tangles when she was much younger.
Libby said sadly."Janice, sit still!" Libby scolded her as she ran the shiny brush through the knotty hair of her squirming ten-year-old daughter. A ritual every evening that Janice both dreaded and looked forward to.
"Ow!!" Janice howled.
"Stop being a baby."
"I am not a baby - how many ten-year-old babies do you know?" Janice argued.
"At least one," Libby responded, making Janice frown. "What on Earth did you do this time to get your hair so tangled? Wait! It’s not a knot - something’s nesting in there!!" Libby gasped, poking through her scalp.
"Quit it!" Janice protested half-heartedly, pushing her mother’s hands away, giggling as the persistent wiggly fingers tickled her scalp.
"My word, what is in there?!?" Libby blurted with amazement as she continued her wiggly finger attack. "Eewwww."
"I think I’ve just solved the mystery of my tangled hair, mother," Janice said with amusement.
"I always knew my little one would turn out smarter than her dear ol’ mom," Libby declared and sniffed, feigning proud tears. Janice rolled her eyes, then cringed as her mother ruffled her hair and gave her a big hug. "It’s just a darn shame your hair is so messy,"
"Mom? Does insanity run in our family?" Janice asked innocently.
"We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?" Libby said with a sly smile, tweaking her daughter’s nose. "Got your nose," she suddenly taunted, holding up her hand with her thumb sandwiched between her first two fingers. Janice snorted at her mother’s odd antics.
"Well that was a lady-like sound," Libby with a disapproving frown.
"Well you hab my doze," Janice complained.
"Now Janice, I don’t ever want to hear you use your messy hair or your lack of nose as an excuse for doing something poorly," Libby lectured. "Life won’t be easy or fair, but you already have the tools to overcome any obstacle that gets thrown at you. The question is, will you choose to overcome or will you choose to give in?" she said seriously to her attentive daughter, believing Janice could and would do great things.
Janice nodded quietly, absorbing everything.
Libby grinned. "There are people out there far worse off than you that have succeeded. I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there’s got to be at least one. Remember, you can succeed too - even with shortcomings as ugly and grotesque as yours, honey."
"Thanns momb. I lub you," Janice gushed.
"And I lub you too," Libby said with a chuckle and hugged her pride and joy.
"I guess I could always cut it," Mel said with irritation, waiting for Janice to respond. She looked up to find her partner staring at her mother’s brush. Mel’s eyes widened with surprise and concern as she witnessed tears falling from Janice’s eyes.
Once they started, years of unshed tears poured from her. The pain of loss, so carefully buried under layers of anger, had finally erupted through. Janice reached for the bureau as her legs started to buckle under the weight of regret and grief.
Strong, protective arms quickly embraced her, preventing her from falling when she finally surrendered to the sorrow. The old deep wound of rejection bled anew. She had lost her mother long ago and no matter how successful an archeologist she was, she would never be able to recover all those memories that they never made.
The fiercely independent woman desperately clung to her partner and wept for her mother.
***
Janice woke in bed. Her head rested upon Mel’s slowly rising and falling chest. Protective arms were wrapped around her. She didn’t recall going to bed, but how she ended up there wasn’t a mystery. Mel had once again looked out for her.
She could feel Mel’s breathing become deeper, then a light caress on her arm. They were both now awake, Janice concluded uncomfortably, feeling raw and exposed. She expected her partner to suggest that talking would help. But Janice was not ready for a soul-searching conversation.
Mel took a deep breath and silently pulled Janice closer to her. The archeologist shut her eyes and hugged her tightly, wondering how the tall woman knew it was what she needed. Pulling back, she looked into Mel’s soft gaze and blinked a few times. The tears were gone for now, she thought with mild relief and exhaled slowly.
"Blech," Janice said with a weak grimace, getting a smile from the tall woman. "I feel like . . . crap," Janice said, rubbing her red eyes.
"I suppose I shouldn’t tell you what you look like," Mel softly said with amusement, tracing her fingers over Janice’s brow then down her tear-stained cheek. Janice gently took the hand and squeezed it before she sat up.
"Ugh," Janice moaned and extracted herself from the Southerner. "Bathroom," she grumbled as she got up and shuffled towards that destination, missing the warm gaze following her.
When she returned, Janice felt a bit apprehensive. Never before had she broken down in front of someone. Well, not since she was a very young child. Mel was probably going to say something sappy like crying your eyes out was really cathartic or some mush like that. How it could be good to feel like you were run over by a truck, twice, Janice wondered. She smiled uneasily at Mel, who sat against the headboard, waiting for her.
"I know you are going to hate this question, but I feel compelled to ask, are you all right?" Mel asked as Janice sat down on the edge of the bed facing her.
Janice chuckled softly. "Yeah, I think so," she said and winced. "Am I that bad?"
"Yes," Mel said flatly, without hesitation.
"Oh. Sorry," Janice said sheepishly, then took Mel’s hand and caressed it.
She looked up from her hand and into Mel’s eyes. "Thanks," she said simply and received a quiet smile. Janice nodded and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. After the kiss, the Southerner pulled her into a firm hug. "I love you, Janice," Mel said, getting a strong hug in return. Janice shut her eyes, relishing the closeness they shared - something she never thought she would have after all she had seen and painfully learned.
"Good."
"Good?" Mel questioned with amazement, pulling back from the hug.
"Well, sure," Janice said innocently.
"Good??"
"You don’t think that’s good?"
"You don’t think that’s a bit . . . inadequate?"
"Oh. So you think I should say something more? Like . . . I love the way you serve food? I really do, you know," Janice said quickly, barely withholding a grin. Mel eyed her and sighed.
"OH! And I really love the way you throw hub cabs. Man! Poetry in motion," Janice enthused as Mel scratched her cheek.
"And your right hook," Janice said, lifting her hand and kissing it. "Magnificent."
Mel’s eyebrow rose.
"I love all that and your patience," Janice said with a small smile, ". . . kindness, intelligence, and incredible beauty," Janice said sincerely, looking into Mel’s surprised eyes. "You’re a hell of a woman, Miss Pappas."
Mel was compelled to respond with a kiss. It wasn’t a simple peck or chaste by any means. Lips merged and parted, allowing their tongues to mingle and caress as they explored. Mel firmly placed her hand behind Janice’s head and moaned when Janice’s hand slipped beneath the nightshirt to caress the skin of her thigh.
When they pulled back, their eyes met as they both took ragged breaths.
Janice traced her fingers over Mel’s face reverently before their mouths met again. Both women poured their hearts into the kiss, wanting the other to feel the depth of their love and passion. No words were spoken as Janice pulled back and looked into desire-filled eyes. She slowly unbuttoned the top button of Mel’s night shirt, struggling to reign in her excitement, which demanded she stop wasting time and just tear the damn garment off. But she didn’t want to rush. This meant too much.
Keeping her gaze locked on Mel’s, her fingers drifted down to the second button and unfastened it, uncovering Mel’s enticing cleavage. Letting her fingers trace over the exposed flesh that rose and fell more rapidly as her arousal grew, Janice watched Mel close her eyes and take a deep breath as she focused on her increasingly intimate touch, as if absorbing it and letting it wash through her.
God, that was so damn sexy, Janice thought and planted wet kisses around her neck and collar bone as she finished unbuttoning Mel‘s unneeded nightshirt.
With both hands, Janice slipped her fingers beneath the material and over her shoulders, which she kissed as each was exposed. Their mouths met again as Janice pulled off the nightshirt and tossed it to the floor. Her hands returned to reverently cradle Mel’s face as they kissed, though Mel’s hands were busily removing Janice’s nightshirt, which swiftly found itself tossed on the floor, on top of hers. When Janice pulled away and stood, Mel started to protest. But she quickly fell silent as she watched Janice, without any modesty, pealing off her last piece of clothing and toss it onto the pile.
Mel drank in the sight, reveling in Janice’s muscular and feminine glory. She wanted to touch her so badly her womanhood ached with longing.
"Lie down," Janice said softly. Mel quickly complied, making Janice smile. Mel sucked in a startled breath when Janice placed a gentle hand on her extremely sensitive hip. The touch seemed to set her body on fire. She swallowed hard and allowed Janice to remove her embarrassingly damp underwear.
Janice looked at the intoxicating wetness that drenched the cloth, making her restraint nearly impossible, then looked at the increasingly uncomfortable and nervous Southerner, making restraint absolutely necessary.
"I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s aroused," Janice offered softly, surprising and relieving the Southerner.
"How can I not be?" she said as her voice cracked. "You are so beautiful," Mel whispered, looking over Janice’s form. Never having cared much what people thought about her looks, Janice was very pleased Mel thought so.
"Skootch," Janice said, motioning with a small smile, getting a smile from the tall woman, who moved over and lay on her back. When she rested her head on her arm tucked behind her head, Janice sighed with appreciation at the beautiful woman presented before her. "Well . . . that was the best skootching I’ve ever seen."
Mel chuckled as Janice climbed into bed. Propping herself up on her elbow, Janice glanced down into blue eyes. She smiled, receiving one back. "So, you busy tonight?" Janice said.
Mel rolled her eyes then glanced at Janice nonchalantly. "I did have plans. But what did you have in mind?"
"It might be better if I showed you," Janice said, tracing her fingers over Mel’s cheek to her lips, which her fingers lingered over.
Mel nodded, silently inviting Janice to lean down and replace her fingers with her lips. She moaned, feeling Janice’s breasts pressed against hers - flesh to flesh. Wanting more, Mel’s hand slid to Janice’s back and pulled the smaller woman closer as their mouths and bodies melded. They were made for each other, Mel thought, mesmerized by the incredible feeling that she knew nothing could compare to - until Janice’s hand roamed over her rear and down her leg, which she lifted slightly to allow her leg to slip between the two long limbs.
"Oh Lord," Mel gasped and clung to the archeologist as Janice’s knee firmly pressed into Mel’s slick sex.
Janice smiled as she peppered kisses over her lover’s neck and took possession of a firm breast, caressing and teasing the rigid nipple with her skilled fingers, prompting another gasp of pleasure from the tall woman, whose sympathetic sex grew even wetter as her arousal soared. Out of frustration, Mel rocked her hips against the annoyingly still, muscular knee to create the needed friction.
Getting the hint, Janice moved over the taller woman and immediately found a rhythm that had the Southern lady moaning then grunting with each thrust as Mel got closer and closer to climaxing. Her fingers dug into Janice’s muscular back, holding on as she was taken higher than she had ever been before.
"I love you," Janice said almost too softly for Mel to hear, but the words were heard, pushing her over.
"Oh Janice!!" She cried out, when her body shuddered in release.
Mel blinked as she regained her breath, amazed at the extraordinary feeling that still seemed to linger behind. She looked into loving eyes and smiled. "Oh my," Mel whispered with amazement to her lover, who grinned and kissed her tenderly on the lips before, moving to lay at her side and kiss her cheek. Mel exhaled contentedly and smiled when Janice gently kissed her neck, then her collarbone.
"Oh My!" Mel said as her eyes widened when Janice moved further down and took a nipple in her warm, moist mouth and sucked. The sensation stirred her loins with a powerful jolt. "You’ve GOT to be kidding!" Mel said with difficulty, amazed how quickly and strongly her body responded to Janice’s ministrations.
Janice released the nipple from her mouth and looked into Mel’s eyes with concern.
"Why did you stop??" Mel asked, immediately missing the delicious sensation that could be felt to her core.
Janice looked at her a moment then smiled and slowly lowered her mouth to the breast, achieving a "yesssss" of approval from the Southerner and a firm hand on the back of her head.
As she tended to her breasts, Janice slowly caressed Mel’s abdomen down to her hip, carefully avoiding contact with the dark, fragrant curls which beckoned to her. Exercising amazing restraint that frustrated Mel and surprised herself, she caressed the long thigh and slowly traveled up the inner thigh, getting closer and closer to the sacred place.
"Janice, please," Mel said as the archeologist’s hand traveled so close to her need, but wouldn’t satisfy it. She was surprised when Janice moved her hand away all together.
"Jan . . . ?" Mel asked, as Janice moved up and looked into her eyes with a startlingly serious face.
"I do love you," Janice softly declared with such emotion it nearly took Mel’s breath away.
Tears fell, without any attempt to hide or dismiss them, fully exposing the archeologist’s vulnerable heart to the woman she loved. The Southern lady tenderly kissed Janice and smiled as she wiped a tear from her lover’s cheek, knowing she had just been invited into her heart . . . to stay.
"Then love me, Janice," Mel offered softly. "I’ve always been, and always will be, yours."
As they gazed into each other’s eyes, Janice freely accepted the precious gift she was offered and vowed to show Mel how much she loved her, every day they were fortunate enough to make memories together.
Having brought her lover another orgasm, the tall woman smiled and kissed her way up from her lover’s sex, through her blond curls, over her deliciously muscular abdomen and paused a moment and grinned before dipping her tongue into her belly button. Successfully causing a giggle, she chuckled herself and progressed upwards, dutifully paying her respects to the perfect peaks that stood at attention. As her warm mouth closed around the hard nipple and suckled, she heard another satisfying gasp from her lover, one of the many aural rewards for a job well done.
"Mercy," the sated bard begged as her fingers combed through the long raven hair.
Xena reluctantly moved away from her sensitive breasts and left a trail of kisses up her chest until she looked into tired, but happy, green eyes. She tenderly placed a kiss upon Gabrielle’s lips and lay beside her with her head propped up on her hand, a perfect position to admire her lover.
Unsatisfied with just looking, Xena began to trace her fingers over her blond brow then down her cheek, mapping the contours of her lover’s face.
"You know, there’s something to be said for pleasures of the flesh," Gabrielle sighed contentedly, shutting her eyes as she enjoyed the simple touch.
"Hmmm," Xena responded in agreement as she kissed the bard’s temple, then cheek, then lips as the bard turned to face her.
"I feel . . . inspired," Gabrielle said, caressing the warrior’s beautiful face.
"Glad to help," Xena said with a cocky grin that slipped from her face when Gabrielle got up from their bed.
"Where are you going?" Xena sat up, almost pouting as she stared at Gabrielle’s dragon tattoo as she walked away from their bed.
"I told you, I’m inspired," Gabrielle said mischievously as she walked to the writing table in their room.
"Ok, I’m game." Xena said, getting up with a grin. "But we’ve already done it on a table," she said, slipping her arms past the bard and nudging her into the table as she nipped at the bard’s neck.
"Does dying and coming back always make you this horny?" Gabrielle laughed.
"Yes," Xena said and suckled Gabrielle’s earlobe.
"I never knew that," Gabrielle said with surprise.
"You didn’t find it odd how often I jumped into a cold lake or stream right after I came back before?" she said, causing the bard to turn in her arms and face her with an amused smile.
"I thought it was just a tough, "I’ve returned and I want to feel it," warrior thing."
"Well I did," Xena said, kissing each of the bard’s brows. "But the "it" wasn’t a cold lake."
"Well, I’m pleased you finally turned to me for help this time," Gabrielle said, bestowing a deep, long kiss.
When their lips parted, Xena took a deep breath, savoring the distinct scent of their mingled arousal. It was thoroughly addictive.
"We had loved each other in every way, except this," Xena said, kissing her lips tenderly. "When I died in Japa," she said tightly. "I realized too many things were left undone. Too many words left unspoken," Xena said, touching her lover’s lips with her fingers, still feeling the pain she had brought to Gabrielle and herself. "But we got another chance," she continued with amazement as Gabrielle smiled. "And I’m never going to waste another moment with you. Never. I am going be selfish with you. I am going to love you . . . with my heart, my soul, and most definitely, my flesh," Xena said and slowly took possession of the bard’s lips. Pulling back, she rested her forehead on Gabrielle’s as she stroked the bard’s smiling cheek.
"It seems I’m not the only one inspired," Gabrielle said happily.
"Hmmm," Xena said as she peppered kisses over her neck and face, determined to demonstrate the loving the flesh part as often as Gabrielle would let her.
"I wonder," Gabrielle said, her tired body renewed with the warrior’s invigorating attention. "How many women go through life feeling like they are missing out on the riches of love? And . . . ohhh!," Gabrielle said as Xena rediscovered her perfect nipples waiting to be cherished.
"I’ve been thinking . . . ," Gabrielle said cautiously, not sure how Xena would take her idea. Xena looked up with a raised brow and smirked. "Don’t even say it." the bard warned the amused warrior, who smiled as she stood, then kissed her lips.
"Anyway, you know many different ways . . . oh Gods . . . to arouse me," the bard said, finding herself lifted and placed on the table. "Even when I’m not in the mood," Gabrielle said as she wrapped her legs around the warrior, getting an skeptical look. "Well, it could happen. You’ve only been back for two months, you know," she responded and rolled her eyes as Xena continued to kiss her neck, trying to make up for lost time. "The point, oh, is, yes . . . . What if I document the things that we’ve learned on our road here . . . to help others?"
"A travel guide to India?" Xena mumbled absently as she kissed her way back up to Gabrielle’s delicious ear as her hand slowly roamed over Gabrielle’s muscular leg. Gods she loved her body, Xena sighed.
"A travel guide of sorts. GODS!" Gabrielle said as the warrior’s fingers passed through the bard’s slick folds. "I would document things that have made our love work. . . ."
"Another sex story?" Xena blurted with irritation as she pulled away, interrupting her bard.
"Not a story . . . ." Gabrielle countered.
"You have already written a few scrolls about us I’ve had to hide," Xena interrupted, then winced at the bard’s livid look.
"You read my private scrolls?!?" Gabrielle said calmly with narrowing eyes.
"Uh," Xena said weakly. "Gabrielle, you started to write again. And I was kind of curious. You hadn’t written in so long, and well, I. . . ."
"I don’t know whether to be more upset that you read my private scrolls or that you found them so bad you had to hide them!" Gabrielle blurted.
"They were not bad! They were actually. . . ." Xena said, smirking.
"I can’t believe you HID them!! I looked for them for days. I thought I had misplaced them!" Gabrielle growled, marching over to the bed and plopping down with her arms crossed over her chest.
"See?? See why I had to hide them? What if someone had read them?!?" Xena argued.
Gabrielle looked at her with that look, Xena thought with concern. That silent, annoyed gaze that meant she had just said something that was going to come back and bite her in the . . . .
"I’m not embarrassed by us," Gabrielle said coolly.
"Neither am I!" Xena immediately responded. "But you never asked me if I wanted our intimate moments captured for all to read. I don’t want to share. Those moments are ours!" Xena said vehemently.
Gabrielle looked at her lover and sighed with disappointment. "I wrote those stories for you. I was going to give them to you next month, on the anniversary of our first meeting . . . in Poteidaia," she said softly.
Xena looked surprised then uncertain. "Oh."
"What I wanted to do was document what I’ve learned in a logical way that maybe, in some small way, will help other lovers find and enjoy a love like we have," Gabrielle said with a small smile.
Xena was relieved to receive the smile, though she still had to get the bard an anniversary gift. Was it really next month?
"So what kinds of things would you . . . document?" Xena asked hesitantly as she realized there really wasn’t a lot of time to shop.
"Well . . . ," Gabrielle said with a sly smile. "If you lay down, I could show you an example or two."
"Well, I suppose I could, if you want," Xena said, feigning reluctance, until she jumped enthusiastically into bed.
"My hero," Gabrielle smiled and climbed into bed beside her, looking the warrior’s naked body over with great appreciation.
"So, what will you call this guidebook?" Xena asked, propping her head up on her hand.
"Well, they would be rules for love," Gabrielle said, and thought a moment as she traced her fingers over Xena’s arm.
"I thought there were no rules for love . . . or war," Xena snickered.
"Fine," Gabrielle said in an annoyed tone, removing her hand.
"Gabrielle . . . ," Xena said, immediately regretting her teasing. "So how would this be different than the Amazon position scrolls?" Xena asked as she sat up, knowing she was forgiven by the quick kiss and big hug. Once again the Warrior Princess was able to right a wrong, Xena thought with relief. Now if she could figure out how to get an anniversary present in such a short time . . . .
"You’ve read them all, right?" Gabrielle asked, getting a hesitant nod. "You know they are not very . . . diverse," Gabrielle said judgmentally. Xena weakly shrugged.
"And there is so much more to love, which those scrolls completely ignore," the bard lectured. "There’s friendship, respect, courting, foreplay, in addition to the various physical acts. To have love thrive, it should really satisfy the mind, the heart, and the body - as you said yourself," she looked at the warrior with a passion that made her even more attractive, Xena thought.
"If you put all that together, you get . . . well, we are in India - why not the Kama Sutra?" Gabrielle announced enthusiastically.
"Sounds like you’ve already got it written," Xena said with a smile, as she threaded her fingers through the bard’s and squeezed gently.
"Not nearly," she balked, rolling her eyes. "There is so much to cover. You’ve probably forgotten more than I’ll ever know," Gabrielle said, caressing her lover’s hand. "To do this justice, I’ll need your help," she said with a sheepish smile and shrug.
"Oh??" Xena looked at her, wondering why she was getting the feeling she was being expertly manipulated by the bard again and was going to regret it.
"Oh yes. But I’m afraid it will involve very long, exhausting hours of hands-on research."
Xena looked at her and blinked. A little manipulation, if done properly, might not be so bad, she considered. "I think I can handle it. I am a tough warrior, you know," Xena said, enjoying the twinkle in those green eyes.
"We’ll need to be thorough," Gabrielle warned.
"I wouldn’t expect any less."
"And probe . . . deeply."
"I’m here to hel . . . PIP!"
"Perfectl! Now all I need is to find someone who can draw our pictures!"
"Our pictures??"
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Thanks to Trusty for proofing.