On Friday night, Ryan dragged into the house at 6:15, tossed her bicycle helmet onto the front table, and called out, "I’m home, babe." Idly looking through the mail, she barely noticed when Jamie came up behind her and wrapped her in a hug.

"How’s my sweaty girl?" the blonde asked. "Ready for dinner?"

"Yeah, I guess." Ryan turned around and gave her partner a proper hug. "Let me go get out of these wet clothes, okay?"

"Sure, honey." She pulled back and gazed at Ryan for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Glad it’s Friday, though. It’s been an extraordinarily long week. I guess it’s gonna take me some time to get used to practicing every day."

"That’s probably it," Jamie said, patting her lightly. "Go take a quick shower. You’ll feel better."

"’Kay."

Ryan started up the stairs, and Jamie could just see the fatigue in her body. Of course, you might be tired because you’re up before dawn riding your bike for two hours every morning, and another hour after softball … but I’m not going to say ‘I told you so.’

* * * * * * * * * * *

Over dinner, Jamie put on her brightest smile and asked, "So, how do you think your first week of practice went?"

"All right," Ryan said, nodding while she chewed thoughtfully. "I really do like the other girls, and the coach is pretty cool. The assistants are nice, too. I think it’s gonna work out. I just have to shake this lethargy." She gave Jamie a very perturbed look and said, "I’m not bouncing back the way I normally do. Maybe I should start taking some supplements, or something."

"Want me to call the doctor for you, and ask what she recommends?"

Ryan shrugged. "Whatever. I can do it if you don’t."

"Hey," Jamie reached out and covered her partner’s hand, "what’s bothering you? I know something is."

Putting down her fork, Ryan pushed her plate away and leaned over, resting her chin on her stacked fists. "I’m not having fun."

"Why, honey? Isn’t softball like you remembered it?"

Staring across the table, Ryan muttered, "Not softball."

"Huh? What is it, then?"

"Riding."

She said it like a curse, and Jamie got up from her chair and pulled her partner upright. Drawing Ryan’s head against her, she stroked her back and said, "Tell me, Ryan. Tell me why it’s not fun."

"It’s only work this time," she said, her voice muffled by Jamie’s sweater. "No camaraderie, no teamwork, no … getting pleasure from helping people — like you — reach a goal."

Jamie pulled back and looked into her eyes, seeing the deep sadness that lurked within the blue depths. Screwing up her nerve, she made the proposal that she’d been working on all week. "I have an idea I’ve been kicking around."

"Yeah? What’s that?"

"Why don’t we consider volunteering this year? You’ve always said that the volunteers are the most vital contributors. Why don’t we see what it’s like to be on that team for a change?"

Ryan was quiet for a minute, while her hands nervously played with her silverware. "I don’t know," she muttered. "I meant it when I said the volunteers were important. But I’m not sure I could stand to drive people around in one of those little vans all day. I’d feel all cooped up."

Jamie smiled at her, and said, "How would you feel about it if you could still be on a bike; you could still be outdoors; you and I could be together; and you didn’t have to train?"

Ryan crossed her arms and gave her partner her most dubious look. "This I’ve gotta hear."

"I’ve been talking to the people at the Ride office to see what I could do as a volunteer," Jamie said, surprising her partner completely. "Mostly because there’s no way I’m going to let you share a tent with some stranger."

"So possessive," Ryan said, reaching out to tweak her partner’s nose.

"Damned right! Anyway, one thing that we could do together is motorcycle support," she said, waiting for Ryan to respond.

"Motorcycle support?" she asked slowly.

"Yep. I thought it would be fun. We’d be able to interact with a lot of people — heck, we’d be chatting all day."

Ryan looked skeptical. "Where would you get a bike?"

"I found a place that rents ‘em. I think I’ll rent a Harley Sportster. It’s much more my size." She blinked her eyes at her partner and said, "Soooo … someone’s Fatboy is still available for use."

Ryan shook her head slowly, letting all of the information digest. "I don’t know, honey. I mean, motorcycle support is very important, and the people who do it seem to love it — but I don’t think it’s my style."

Jamie’s heart sank, knowing that Ryan wasn’t likely to budge from her first impression. Sighing, she asked, "What is your style, baby? What would make you happy?"

"I need time to think," Ryan said. "Give me a little quiet time, okay?"

"Sure. Uhm … there’s not much to do to clean up from dinner. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath or something."

"All right. I’ll go chill for a bit."

Jamie did the dishes in a leisurely fashion, and just as she was finishing, Mia came in. There was a decent amount of food left over, so she sat at the table while Mia had dinner, and they chatted about their respective days.

Nearly an hour had passed, but Ryan hadn’t reappeared, so Jamie went upstairs to check on her. There was no sign of her in the bath, so Jamie poked her head into Ryan’s bedroom, slightly surprised to find her sitting on the floor, in a yoga pose — looking like she was meditating. Sneaking out quietly, she went into their room and worked at her computer for a long while. It was nearly bedtime when Ryan came in and lay down on the bed, her head down at the foot so she was closer to Jamie. "Well, I think I sorted out what about the Ride means the most to me."

Swiveling around in her chair, Jamie gave her partner her full attention. "Tell me."

"It’s always been a multi-step process for me. The training — meeting new people — sleeping with new people," she added, chuckling a little. "All of that was a lot of fun, and made me feel part of the whole. The months leading up to the ride let me share my excitement with a lot of people, and that really meant something to me."

"And that’s why not being able to lead training rides has been so disappointing for you."

"Yeah … that’s exactly it."

"Well, maybe there’s some way we can figure out …"

"No," Ryan said, holding up a hand. "It dawned on me tonight that as much as I enjoyed all of that — it’s not why the Ride has so much meaning for me. The bottom line is that all of the other things were nice incidentals. What mattered the most was the quiet time I had every day — to think and reflect about Michael. Those few hours each day seemed like a culmination of several months of work that I dedicated to him, Jamie. It was a way to keep him close to my heart."

"I understand," Jamie said, quietly. "Really, I do, baby."

Ryan nodded. "I knew you would — once I figured it out for myself. So, I’m gonna have to do the work the hard way this time — because those hours during the ride mean more to me than the pain I’m gonna have to go through to get there." She didn’t look terribly happy, but the look on her face was one of resolution, and Jamie knew that Ryan would stick to her path — now that she was clear about the goal.

With some trepidation, Jamie got up and lay next to her partner, pulling Ryan’s head to her chest. As she stroked the soft, dark hair, she offered the suggestion that had occurred to her as Ryan was speaking. "Let me be sure I understand, okay?"

"Sure."

"You’re willing to give up all of the fun parts just to have a couple of hours of quiet time a day during the ride?"

"Yeah. I am. Being out there in nature, making my body do something that’s difficult lets me concentrate in a way that I’m not usually able to do. Those few stolen hours mean too much to let them go."

"How about this?" Jamie asked. "I agree completely that you need to spend time honoring your cousin’s memory. I know how easy it is to let things like that slip by when your life is as busy as yours is. I get that, Ryan — I do."

"Thank you," the brunette said quietly.

"But this year, with all that you have going on — I worry about you, sweetheart; and if there’s any way to fulfill your needs without stressing you more, I want you to consider it."

"I know you worry about me, Jamie, but I can take care of myself. Really — I can."

Looking into her big, blue eyes, Jamie steeled her courage and told the whole truth. "I can’t stop worrying, Ryan. I’ve tried to — I swear that I have. I’ve talked to Anna, I’ve prayed over it, I’ve talked to my mom — but I can’t stop worrying."

"Hey," Ryan soothed, shifting to wrap her arms around her partner. "I didn’t know it was bothering you this much."

"It is. I lie in bed in the morning worrying about you riding in the dark. And my stomach’s a nervous wreck when you ride after practice; there is so much traffic around here, honey. It makes me crazy!"

Ryan was quiet for a minute, her hand softly stroking her partner’s hair. "Then I’ll quit. This is important to me — but it’s not important enough to cause you pain. I’ve given you enough to worry about for a lifetime."

Jamie lifted her head and gazed at Ryan for a long time. "You love me very much, don’t you."

"I do," Ryan whispered. "I love you more than I ever knew was possible. You’re my life, Jamie."

Kissing her tenderly, Jamie rolled her partner onto her back and stared at her for a minute. "You’re mine, too. So, let’s figure out a way for both of us to get our needs met."

"Sounds like you’ve got something brewing up in that active, little brain," Ryan said, smiling up at her partner.

"I think I do," Jamie said. "I know you need some solitude, Ryan. But I happen to think that you need more than a few hours a day during the AIDS Ride."

"Go on," Ryan said. "I know there’s more."

"I think that you should take a week — by yourself — to meditate, and pray and reflect. I think you need it now more than you ever have, sweetheart. You could schedule it during the same time as the AIDS Ride, and spend some of your time praying for the people on the ride — I know that would mean a lot to them, and to you."

"Where would I do this?" Ryan asked.

"Anywhere you wanted to, honey. There are a lot of retreat centers within an hour or two of us, or you could be wild and go to Sienna, or Assisi, or to any of the places that have spiritual meaning for you."

"Damn," Ryan said, her eyes glazing over. "It’s … too much to consider how much money we have. Let’s stay local so I can keep the top of my head on."

"Okay, sweetie. I’m sure my grandfather has a list of retreat centers, and Father Pender could hook you up, too. Actually, Poppa went to one a couple of years ago that I’ve wanted to go to. It was a silent retreat, and it was for Christians — but it was conducted on an Eastern model — with guided meditation led by a Buddhist monk."

"Wow, I’d love that," Ryan said softly. "Damn, I haven’t been on a retreat since I was in high school — and we just goofed off at that one."

"Will you consider it, babe? I’ll be happy to get all of the information for you."

Ryan was quiet for a minute, then nodded her head. "Yeah. I’ll definitely consider it. Uhm … could we still give a contribution to the Ride?"

"Of course, honey. We can give as much as you want. You know," she said thoughtfully, "there’s a retreat center in Santa Barbara. You could go over to UCSB on Saturday and have lunch with some of your buddies — maybe feel connected to them that way."

"That’d be nice," Ryan said, nuzzling her head against Jamie’s chest. "So, you wouldn’t want to go with me?"

"Mmm … no. I could never keep my mouth shut for a week if you were nearby. I think this is something you need to do alone. Maybe I’ll go to a spa with my mom. I’d like to spend some time alone with her this year."

"Wow, we’re not even together a year, and we’re planning separate vacations," Ryan said, smiling sadly at her lover.

"It’s been a unique year," Jamie said, smiling back and adding a gentle kiss. "But next year, you and I are going to be on our bikes — just like normal."

"That’ll be nice," Ryan sighed. "I wanna be normal again."

"Me too, sweetie, me too."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Want me to go pick up the sushi?" Ryan asked, late on Saturday afternoon.

"Sure. That’ll give me time to finish a few last-minute details," Jamie said.

"You know," Ryan said, twirling her keys on her finger, "you aren’t putting much of your energies into this party. It’s not like you to only order a couple of sushi platters when you’re entertaining. What’s up with that?"

"Well, I don’t know most of the girls very well, so I don’t know if any of them are vegetarians. I figured there’d be something for everyone with a big assortment of sushi, since I made sure that at least a quarter of the things are meatless."

"Okay," Ryan said, picking up her wallet. "Whatever."

She started to walk out, but Jamie dashed across the room and grabbed her by her waistband. "Truth?" the blonde asked.

"Yeah, that’d be nice — for a change," Ryan said, smiling warmly.

"I think the party’s gonna be a big bust, and I don’t wanna spend too much time working on it. I’m making an effort to try to draw these girls out a little bit — but I’ll admit that I’m not making too much of an effort."

"That’s cool," Ryan said, bending to kiss her. "I’m not complaining. I merely wanted to see what was going on in that decidedly pretty head."

"Just being practical," Jamie said. "And thanks for helping me out. I’m counting on you charming the pants off a few of these shy little introverts."

"Well, that should make the party interesting," Ryan said. "I didn’t know that was allowed under the rules of monogamy — but I’m up for it." She gave Jamie a lecherous grin and palmed her ass, adding a firm squeeze.

"You’d scare these girls half to death if you looked at them that way," the blonde said, chuckling. "That sexy grin had better only come out if you’re looking at me."

The sexy grin appeared on cue. "That’s the only time it wants to come out," Ryan said. "Only you inspire me."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The party had been in full-drone for almost an hour when Mia came downstairs, fresh from a long talk with her beloved. She was feeling quite anti-social, evading everyone in the living and dining rooms to sneak into the kitchen — hoping that Jamie had stowed the excess food in there.

She nearly ran into Juliet, or at least the woman who looked like Juliet — without a tee stuck between her teeth, or a visor covering her face. "Hey," Mia said. "Juliet, right?"

"Uh … yeah," she said, giving Mia a blank look.

"I’m Mia, Jamie’s roommate. We played golf together on Tuesday."

"Oh, right. Hi."

Damn, maybe she isn’t a lesbian. I didn’t even get into her short-term memory. "Were you looking for something, Juliet? I live here, so I know my way around."

"Uhm … no, not really," she said, her nervousness showing. "I’m not much for parties, to tell the truth. I try to find the quietest place and just hang out."

Sensing an opportunity to probe Juliet’s defenses, Mia pulled out a chair and said, "Have a seat. You can sit and chat with me for a while. I don’t like crowds, either."

Looking grateful, the golfer sat down, then gazed at Mia, waiting to be led.

"Would you like a drink?" Mia asked. "Jamie didn’t want to put alcohol out, since so many of the girls are underage — but you’re a senior, aren’t ya?"

"Uh-huh." She looked a little uncomfortable, and said, "I don’t drink much, though. I never got used to the taste."

"Ooo … let’s have some fun, then," Mia said. "Let’s make Jell-O shots."

"I’ve never had those," Juliet said.

"Well, you will soon. I’ll get the Jell-O and the vodka, you put a little water in the tea kettle — and we’re on our way."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan caught Jamie when she saw the smaller woman near the library. Pulling her into the quiet space she whispered, "I’m about to take poison! Isn’t there anything we can do to spice this party up?"

Jamie shrugged her shoulders. "Naked Twister? Body shots? Russian Roulette? I’ll try anything. Actually, why don’t we take off? Let ‘em sit here until they bore each other to death, and then sweep up the bodies."

"Damn, if staying at this party isn’t a sign of my undying love, nothing is," Ryan said, her grumbling obviously good-natured.

"I can’t believe that no one brought a date," Jamie said. "Guys would have at least added a little volume. I’ve been to livelier wakes."

"Well, let’s try to get ‘em playing a game or something. Anything to make people start talking about something other than golf!"

They started to leave the room, but Ryan pulled her aside to whisper, "Oh, and your friend, Juliet? Big dyke. We’ve gotta sit over at Sproul Plaza one day so I can teach you how to pick ‘em out, baby. If you weren’t sure about Juliet, you clearly don’t know what to look for!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

While Mia and Juliet waited for the Jell-O to set, Mia decided to probe a little to see if she could get the monosyllabic woman to open up. "So, I’ve never seen you around campus. What’s your major?"

"American Studies."

"Really? That’s mine, too. Weird … I would have thought we’d have been in the same classes."

"I always try to get all of my classes in on Tuesday through Thursday," Juliet said. "That way I’m free for tournaments and things. I’ve been forced to take some of the worst classes in the major, just because of when the class meets."

"What else do you do for fun, Juliet? I know golf takes up a lot of your time, but where do you hang out?"

"Mmm … nowhere, really. I have a room in a private home not far from here. I eat my meals with the family I live with — so I don’t go out very much. The couple has two young kids, and I watch them in the evenings when the parents go out. I tend to hang around the house a lot."

"Wow … that must inhibit your … love life. I mean … can you have dates stay overnight?"

"Oh, no, Matt and Patricia have asked me not to do that. It sets a bad example for the kids." She shrugged and said, "It’s not a problem, though. I don’t date."

"You don’t?" Mia asked. "At all?"

"No, not really. Not since I’ve been at Berkeley."

"Juliet! You’re a senior! You’re wasting your prime dating years!"

The young woman laughed softly and said, "I’ve had other priorities, Mia. My goal is to make the LPGA tour. After that I can start to concentrate on my social life."

"Damn," Mia said, shaking her head. "Did you date in high school?"

"Yeah." Juliet got up and pulled open the refrigerator. "Think these are ready yet?"

Mia walked over to her and peered over her shoulder. "Yeah, I think they’re close. Let’s have one and then put them back in to firm up a little." She cut 2 generous squares and handed one to Juliet, while letting her own slide down her throat. "Smooth, huh?" she asked when Juliet swallowed.

"Yeah," the taller woman said, smiling. "Really smooth. It didn’t taste like alcohol at all."

"That’s the beauty of the Jell-O shot," Mia said. She sat back down and asked, "Would you be interested in going out on a date or two? I’m sure I could fix you up — if I knew your type."

"Ah … no, really, I’m not in the market." To get the focus off of herself, Juliet asked, "What about you? Are you dating anyone?"

"Mmm … I’m not dating. I’m in love — big time." She gave Juliet a very warm smile and asked, "Wanna see a pic?"

"Uhm … sure." She shrugged, looking less than fascinated, but when Mia went to the refrigerator and removed an action picture from a volleyball game — showing Jordan and Ryan rising in tandem to block a shot, Juliet’s eyes nearly popped from her head.

"This … this is your …?

"Lover," Mia said helpfully. "That’s Jordan Ericsson. You might have seen her play volleyball, but if you missed her there’s still time to catch her in action. She’s on the U.S. Olympic team," she said with a great deal of pride in her voice.

"Wow! She must be great."

"Oh, she is," Mia said. "In many, many ways. Only problem is that she’s in Colorado Springs at the Olympic training facility. We can’t be together until school’s out."

Staring at the picture, Juliet said softly, "It’s horrible to be separated from someone you love, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, it really is." Mia walked back to the refrigerator and took out the Jell-O. "Care for another?"

"Sure. I didn’t even notice that first one."

"Uhm … they tend to catch up with you," Mia said, offering fair warning. "There’s over a cup of vodka in here."

"Is that a lot?"

"It depends on what your goal is," Mia said, wrinkling her nose in a grin. "It’s just about right if you wanna get wasted."

"Wasted, huh?" Juliet asked. "I’ve never been wasted — maybe it’s time."

"Stick with me," Mia said, chuckling. "I’ll make sure your first trip to Wastedville is a pleasant one."

* * * * * * * * * * *

At 10:30, Jamie stood in the doorway, waving to the last of her teammates. As she closed the door, Ryan grabbed her from behind, then turned her and pinned her into the corner where she pounced upon her lips. Raining a torrent of kisses upon her sweet lips, Ryan growled as she pressed her hips against Jamie’s, murmuring, "Finally, a way to get my blood moving again."

Jamie slapped her hard on the butt, unable to stop giggling. "You’re such a bad girl, Ryan O’Flaherty. I looooove bad girls." She gave her a rough squeeze and said, "Help me clean up a little and I’ll let you do as many bad things to me as you want."

"Mmm … motivation," the brunette said, releasing her captive. They started to pick up a wealth of paper cups, plates and napkins, and when Ryan’s hands were full she popped the kitchen door open with her hip. The dark woman let out a gasp when she spotted Mia and Juliet, sitting — or, rather slumping at the kitchen table. "What in the hell is going on in here?" she asked.

Jamie came scampering over, peering around Ryan’s shoulder to get a good look. The two drunken women looked up at them, two pairs of unfocused eyes trying to think of an appropriate response. "We’re doing Jell-O shots," Mia said, her words slightly slurred. "Want one?" She looked down at the empty glass baking dish and scratched her head. "We made two batches. Where’d they all go?"

"Right to your heads," Ryan said, walking into the room and depositing the trash she carried onto the counter. Turning to Jamie, she said, "Help me load Juliet into the car. I’ll take her home." Twitching her head towards Mia, she added, "You can get Sir Drinks A Lot into bed."

"No, no, I’ll take Juliet," Jamie said. "I know where she lives."

"All right. Let’s get Mia into bed, and we can take off."

"You don’t need to go with, love. I’d rather you stayed and kept an eye on Mia."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, I’m positive. Put the rest of the things in a trash bag, carry Mia to bed, and by the time you’re in bed I’ll be back."

"I’m not undressing her," Ryan said firmly. "She’s so damned ticklish, it’s like wrestling a puma."

"I don’t need undressing," Mia said, her dignity still intact. "Only Jordy undresses me." As she said those words, she started to cry. "I miss my Jordy." She laid her head on the table and sobbed, with Juliet trying to find her back to pat it.

Ryan met Jamie’s eyes and said, "No more parties. Clean-up is a bitch!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

With Ryan’s help, they poured Juliet into the BMW, then Jamie dashed around to the driver’s side. "I’m gonna have to help her get into bed, so it might take me a few minutes. She lives with a family — and I’m sure they wouldn’t like to have the kids find her passed out in the hallway."

"Don’t be long," Ryan said. "Do you have your cell phone?"

"Of course. I’ll be back as soon as I can, love. Be nice to Mia, okay? She’s awfully sad."

"I will," Ryan said, smiling. "I’ll nicely dump her butt into bed."

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Jamie pulled into the driveway of the home where Juliet lived, she was pleased to see the lights out. At least I don’t have to attempt this maneuver in front of an audience. "Okay, Juliet, I’d appreciate some help here." She went over to her friend’s side of the car, and found that Juliet was a bit more cooperative than she’d been a few minutes earlier. "The fresh air must have revived you a little," she said.

Working together, they got up to the house, and Jamie got the key into the door — hoping fervently that there was no alarm. When nothing chimed, beeped or buzzed, she smiled to herself and helped Juliet up the stairs. Luckily, the golfer was sober enough to find her own room, and after stumbling and crashing into the wall once or twice, they reached the door. Jamie got it open, then helped Juliet in, looking around quickly to make sure they were in the right place. When all she saw were textbooks on a desk, and an LPGA calendar on the bare walls, she knew they’d hit pay dirt.

"Okay, Juliet," Jamie said as she got her to the bed. "I’ll get your shoes off, then I’ll help you with your jeans. After that — you’re on your own."

"’Kay," the taller woman said, struggling to get that much out.

When Jamie had her as undressed as she was willing to go, she pulled down the covers and helped her into a horizontal position. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she asked, "Are you going to be all right? I worry that you won’t be able to get to the bathroom without hurting yourself."

"Fine," she said, pointing in the direction of the bath. Jamie got up and made sure the path was unobstructed, then turned the light on, pulling the door halfway closed so Juliet could find it during the night.

Returning to the bed, Jamie said, "I’m gonna go now. I left your keys on your desk there. I assume the front door will lock behind me," she said, trying to think of what she’d do if that weren’t the case. Shrugging, she said, "I hope you feel okay, tomorrow, even though I’m sure you won’t."

"I have to pee," Juliet said, looking at the bathroom, which seemed very far away.

Taking pity on her, Jamie helped her up, then waited outside the door, hoping that Juliet didn’t lose any of her Jell-O shots. She heard her friend noisily brush her teeth, which seemed like a good sign, then Juliet emerged, looking a little more put-together.

Jamie got her back to the bed, but the larger woman just sat on the edge of the bed, rather than lying down. "Thanks for the help," she said, her voice still slurred, but understandable.

"Hey, no problem. I’ve been in worse shape." Jamie reached over and ruffled Juliet’s hair.

Jamie was surprised when Juliet grasped her hand and held it to her cheek, nuzzling her face against the palm. "You’re such a nice woman," she said, sighing.

"No problem," Jamie said. "We’re teammates, Juliet. You’d do the same for me."

"No one else would," she said, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. "No one else cares enough."

"Hey, don’t say that," Jamie said, her maternal instincts coming out in full force. "You’re a very nice person. You don’t let people get to know you."

"I … I can’t," she said, sounding defeated. "I just can’t."

Jamie stroked her back with her free hand, feeling sorry for the woman — who obviously had some serious problems with intimacy. "Sure you can, Juliet. You have to be more open with people, and let them get to know the real you. But you can do it."

"No, no, I can’t," she said again, crying harder. "I’m so damned lonely."

"Hey," Jamie said softly, stroking her hair, "you don’t have to be lonely. You’re a nice woman, you’re very attractive, and you’re gonna be a big success in your field. I think you’re quite a catch, Juliet."

Suddenly, the larger woman’s arms were around Jamie’s waist, and Juliet was holding on tight, crying her eyes out. Jamie didn’t know what to do, so she continued to stroke her hair and her shoulders, murmuring soothing words. "Come on, now, lie down," Jamie said.

Juliet did as she was told, but she failed to remove her arms from Jamie’s waist first. The pair tumbled to the bed, their legs entwined. For a second, Jamie was too surprised to move, but when Juliet started kissing her chest, making her way towards her mouth, the shock turned to outrage. "Hey!" Jamie got her hands between them and pushed Juliet roughly, then disentangled her legs and stood up. "Don’t you ever try anything like that again!" she said, her face flushed with anger. "Only Ryan touches me that way!" She straightened her shirt, then ran her hands through her hair, trying to control her temper.

By this time Juliet was crying helplessly, and Jamie’s conscience reminded her that scolding the woman at this point was a complete waste of time. "Juliet," she said, putting her hand on her leg, "get some rest and try to sleep it off. I know that being drunk can make you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do."

"I’m sorry," she got out, sobbing roughly.

"It’s all right," Jamie said, soothingly. "Just go to sleep. We’ll talk about this later."

"Do you hate me?" she asked timidly.

"Of course not. Not at all. Now, just relax, will you? I’ll see you on Monday morning."

"I’m sorry, Jamie," she said once again. "I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help it …"

"We’ll talk later, Juliet. Now, get some sleep, and try to feel better, okay?"

"All right."

A few tears were still sliding down her cheeks, and Jamie gave her a compassion-filled look and said, "It’s all right, Juliet. Don’t worry about it."

"I’m sorry," she murmured, lying down with a heavy thump.

"Goodnight," Jamie said, quickly backing out of the room before she had to hear another apology. As soon as she was on the street, she called the house, and Ryan answered on the first ring. "Hi, speedy. I just left the house, so I’ll be home in a few. I didn’t want you to worry."

"Oh, good. I wanted to get into bed, but I wasn’t gonna take my clothes off until you were home. I wanted to be able to come get you if you ran into any trouble."

"I’m fine, hon. Get in bed on my side and warm it up for me, will ya?"

"Will do. Hurry home, baby-doll."

"Baby-doll?"

Ryan shrugged, even though Jamie couldn’t see her. "They just pop out. Lord knows why."

"I’ll be right there," Jamie said, smiling at the image of her partner, knowing that she had likely shrugged her broad shoulders when she was explaining herself.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Jamie got home a few minutes later, her side of the bed was toasty warm — at least it looked warm underneath Ryan’s soundly sleeping body. Well, I guess we’re switching sides, the blonde decided, getting in on the other side. Ryan immediately cuddled up to her, her warm, sleep-heavy body feeling like a familiar, warm blanket. Damn, Juliet, Jamie sighed, I can’t believe you had the nerve to make a move on me after you saw your competition. Do you have a death wish?

* * * * * * * * * * *

After sleeping in, and taking a few minutes to check on Mia, Jamie and Ryan went to Noe Valley to spend the day with the family. Martin and Maeve and Caitlin had saved them seats at Mass, and the five-some spent the service passing Caitlin from one person to the other — playing the usual game of "who can entertain a 16-month-old for more than 10 minutes."

Ryan had possession of the toddler when it was time to file out of the pew for communion, and as usual, she and Jamie stood side-by-side in the line. It wasn’t a common thing at their parish, but a few couples stood next to one another while receiving the Eucharist, and Ryan liked the idea, so she and Jamie had adopted the practice not long after they’d started attending St. Phil’s. When they got near the front of the line, the usher directed them to a Eucharistic Minister who stood to the right of Father Pender. Jamie started to go where she was directed, but Ryan tugged on her, staying right where she was. Jamie looked up at her quizzically, then shot a glance at the man from whom they were supposed to receive the sacrament. He gave her a very perturbed look, but she merely shrugged slightly, waiting for Father Pender as Ryan was intent on doing.

After Mass, they went out to the patio to purchase some coffee and donuts that the parish Girl Scout troop was offering. While they waited in line, Jamie asked, "Hey, why were you so intent on receiving communion from Father Pender?"

"Oh, I wasn’t," Ryan said. "I didn’t like the alternative."

"Well, that guy was pissed off. He gave me a look like he wanted to throttle me."

"No, honey, he was giving us that look before we were directed to go to him. That’s why I refused to do it. That kindly soul is Robert Andrews, Sara’s dad."

"Oh! So, I wasn’t imagining the look!"

"Nope. As soon as he saw us, he started to put a puss on. No way I’m having him try to choke me with a communion wafer."

While they were chatting, Father Pender came up to say hello. Martin and Maeve were sitting at a table with Caitlin, everyone knowing that having the child near the donut table was a recipe for disaster. "Siobhán, Jamie, how are you both?"

"We’re good," Ryan said. "Buy you a cup of coffee, Father?"

"That’d be lovely," he said, smiling.

"Could you steer me to a list of good retreat houses, Father?" Ryan asked. "I’m thinking about going away for a week this summer, and I’d like to find a good place."

"Oh, certainly. What type are you looking for?"

"Well, I’m not sure how many options there are," she said.

"There are more styles of retreat than snakes in Ireland before St. Patrick," he said, his eyes crinkling up. "Stop by the rectory before you leave. My secretary has a list of all of the places in the Archdiocese."

"Thanks, Father. I will."

Looking at her for a moment, he asked quietly, "How are things going with you personally, Siobhán? Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I’m feeling less guilty about shooting that guy," she said, "but my temper’s still pretty explosive. I’m about out of cheeks to turn, Father."

"You’ll get there," he said, gripping her shoulder. "You’re a very forgiving girl."

"Up until now I have been," she said, "but I’ve never really been tested before."

Jamie gave her a look that questioned her sanity, and Ryan chuckled softly, "Okay, I guess I have been pretty even-tempered before now. My reserves are dangerously low."

"Time and prayer will help you store up all the reserves you need," the priest assured her.

"I hope the reserves are back up before I need them," Ryan said. "I don’t want to find out what I’m capable of."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Martin and Maeve stayed behind to socialize, since Caitlin had found a boyfriend and was playing happily with the little fellow. On the walk home, Jamie held Ryan’s hand, looking up to ask, "How are you feeling?"

"Uhm … good?" Ryan replied.

"Nice and peaceful? Full of good will towards your fellow person?"

"Who am I going to want to kill, and why?" Ryan asked, giving Jamie’s hand a squeeze.

"Mmm … maybe Juliet."

Stopping dead in her tracks, the blue eyes narrowed and Ryan turned slowly, gazing at Jamie for several seconds before she asked, "What did she do?"

"Uhm … you know how drunk she was last night, honey …"

Giving her a look that could peel paint, Ryan repeated herself, slowly this time. "What … did … she … do?"

Knowing that she was unable to make it sound better than it was, Jamie told the tale. "I got her into bed and she started crying, saying that no one liked her and things like that. I patted her back and smoothed her hair a little bit — just being nice," she said. "She either got the wrong impression from that, or she just lost it, because she put her arms around me and we fell onto the bed together. She uhm … kissed my chest, and my neck, and was on her way to moving up when I pushed her away and got up. I told her off, Ryan, and warned her to never do anything like that again."

Jamie looked up at her partner, practically able to see steam coming out of her ears. Without a word, Ryan turned and started to walk home, her grip on Jamie’s hand just short of painful. Knowing that her partner needed a few minutes to calm down, Jamie didn’t say a word. When they got to the house, Ryan strode up to the BMW and beeped the doors open. As she started to get in, Jamie asked, "Where are you going?"

"We’re going to Berkeley," she said, her voice flat, but bursting with menace.

"Oh, no, we’re not. No, way, Ryan!"

"There is no way in hell that I’m gonna let her get away with that, Jamie. You are not some piece of meat that she can paw whenever she wants to."

"I’m also not an airhead who can’t protect herself," the blonde said, her voice starting to rise.

"Get in the car!"

"I will not!"

"Get in!"

Jamie started for the stairs, not slowing down when she heard the car door slam loudly.

Conor and Kevin were in the kitchen when Jamie entered, and they called out a greeting. Before Jamie could reply, Ryan strode into the house, saying only one word — in a very loud voice. "Downstairs!"

Rolling her eyes at the boys, who each gave her a wide-eyed look, Jamie shook her head and followed her furious partner down to their room. Closing the door, Jamie gently pushed her partner down onto the loveseat and straddled her. "Listen to me," she said, her cheeks pink with anger, "you have every right to be upset by someone trying to touch me against my will, but it was me who was touched, Ryan. I’m the one who should be indignant — not you. I’m not your property, and I don’t like being treated as such. Now, calm down and chill." She got up and went to the built-in drawers, pulling out a sweater and a pair of jeans. While Jamie changed, Ryan didn’t say a word, she just sat on the loveseat, looking like she was about to explode.

When Jamie was finished, Ryan rose, changed into sweats and laced up a pair of running shoes. "I’m going out for a run," she said, not waiting for a response.

The blonde shook her head and went upstairs to chat with the boys, trying to think of an excuse for her partner’s bad manners that wouldn’t reveal anything too personal.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan was gone for a long time — a very long time. Jamie had called her father, her mother, her grandfather, and had made a good dent in her accounting homework by the time the sweat-drenched woman returned home.

Jamie looked up from her book, trying to meet Ryan’s eyes to see if the dark woman’s mood had brightened. From her initial glance, it seemed unlikely, and she mentally rolled her eyes — hoping that their entire day wasn’t going to be ruined. But Ryan surprised her; sitting down on her desk chair and gazing at Jamie with a contrite look. "I’m sorry for how I behaved. I don’t have a lot of control now, Jamie. My mouth gets away from me."

The blonde reached out and stroked Ryan’s wet arm. "I know things are hard for you, honey. Having something like this happen doesn’t help the situation in the least."

"No, it doesn’t," Ryan said, nodding. "But I’m in bad shape when I can’t shrug off some woman making a fairly harmless pass at you. I’m not normally jealous of things like that."

"I know you’re not, Ryan. Don’t worry, this will pass."

Ryan sighed, stretching in her chair. "I went over to the church and talked with Da and Maeve for a while," she said. "Then Father Villareal came over, and I asked him for some advice. But even after having 3 people, whose opinions I trust tell me the same thing — I was still steamed. So, I ran until I could finally feel my anger start to dissipate." She chuckled softly, and said, "It’s a good thing I don’t know where Juliet lives, ‘cause I could have easily made it to Berkeley — on foot."

"I can handle her, Ryan. I’m gonna tell her in no uncertain terms that she is never allowed to touch me again. I won’t stand for that kind of crap — from anyone. I feel sorry for her because she seems so lost and alone — but I don’t feel sorry enough to let her touch me."

"I know you can handle yourself, Jamie. I have to make the irrational part of my brain listen to the rational side a little more."

"Hey," the blonde said, giving Ryan a sultry smile, "remember when we were on our honeymoon and you told me that your father said you should always get naked to have an argument?"

"Yeah," Ryan said, nodding. "Are we still arguing?"

"Noooo … but it might be a nice way to make up. Let’s hop in the shower and see if we can wash away some of the remnants of our little spat."

"But you’re not dirty," Ryan said, giving Jamie a sexy grin.

Standing, Jamie extended her hand and pulled her partner to her feet. "I can be as dirty as the next girl — given the right motivation. Come motivate me, hot stuff."

* * * * * * * * * * *

After their make-up shower and a nice nap, the girls went upstairs to socialize a bit. Martin and Maeve had come over to start Sunday dinner, and Brendan, Maggie, Conor, Rory and Kevin were all jammed into Conor’s room, watching a basketball game. Since there wasn’t room for them in the bedroom, Jamie and Ryan went into the kitchen to chat with Martin and Maeve. Ryan sat on a stool and pulled her partner to her, nuzzling her neck and hugging her constantly. "Looks like someone’s feeling a little better," Martin said, giving his daughter a wry look.

"Nah, this is how we fight," Ryan said, kissing a path across the back of Jamie’s neck, while the blonde giggled and wriggled on her lap.

"Why don’t we fight like that, Marty?" Maeve asked, giving her husband a bump with her hip. "The girls have the best ideas."

"It’s never too late to learn a few new tricks," he said. "Maybe we should fight right now." He wrapped his arms around his bride and started to kiss her neck with as much gusto as his daughter had just demonstrated.

"My eyes! My eyes!" Ryan cried, dramatically cupping her hands over the bright blue orbs.

Jamie laughed at her partner’s antics, while encouraging the older couple. "Go for it, Martin!"

"I’ve had to get used to seeing the two of you rubbing against each other like a pair of cats in a sack. It’s high time you had a dose of your own medicine," he said, laughing evilly while he continued to kiss the giggling Maeve.

Ryan pushed her partner from her lap and ran from the room. "I’m gonna go watch the game — if my retinas haven’t been burned out!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

The only spot available to Ryan was on the floor, next to her cousin. "I haven’t had much time to talk to you lately, buddy. How’s it going living with us and the boys?"

"Good," Kevin said, smiling brightly. "Better than I thought, really. It’s like when Tommy and Michael were still at home. Ya know, I think I’d rather stay here than move back to my ma’s place."

"Have you told your mom that, Kevin? You know, the whole reason they’re gonna move to Niall’s is to give you the house."

"I’ve kinda hinted at it," he said, "but we haven’t had a serious discussion. I guess we should, though. I like being around the guys, Ryan, and it’s nice to share the responsibilities, not to mention the expenses. Now that we’ve gotten rid of that ‘no overnight guests’ thing, it’s perfect living here."

‘Do my father and your mother know you’ve abolished the rule?" Ryan asked with an impish grin.

"What they don’t know won’t hurt them," Kevin said, adding a wink.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Tommy, Annie and Caitlin joined the already full house, and while they were eating, Ryan brought the subject up again. "When is Niall’s place supposed to be ready?"

"It’s going well," Martin said. "I think, a few weeks, at the maximum."

"Well, Ryan and I were talking about it, and I don’t think I want to move back to the house, Ma," Kevin said. "I like living with the guys."

"Really?" Maeve asked. "Well, goodness, Kevin, if you don’t want the house, it doesn’t make any sense for us to move."

Ryan had a hard time keeping the obvious signs of relief from her face. A persistent thread of worry had been niggling at her over the thought of her father and aunt moving several miles away, and the possibility that they would stay right where they were was overwhelmingly heartening.

Martin sensed her relief and said, "If we don’t have to go, we’ll stay right where we are. I need to stay close to keep my eye on you children." He spoke to all, but his eyes were firmly planted on his smiling daughter. "I’ve been worried about prowlers," he said, scowling a bit. "I saw a young woman walking down the stairs just after dawn the other morning. I think she may have been casing the joint."

Conor, Rory, and Kevin all put on their most innocent faces, no one willing to confess to that particular encounter.

Partially to deflect the focus from his brother and cousins, Tommy piped up and said, "If you don’t take Niall’s, I think Annie and I might. Our place is too small to change our minds in, and we just found out we’re getting another rent increase. We’ve got to do something."

"Well, that would work, Tom," Martin said. "Although we’d hate to have you so far away."

"Oh, my yes," Maeve said. "Sunset is far too distant to walk to."

"It can’t be that far. You were going to live there, Mom," Tommy said. "It’s too good of an opportunity for all of us to pass up. The rent is less than we currently pay, and the place is twice as big."

"I realize that," she said. "I just wish there were a better way."

"Well, it’s not decided," he said. "Let’s see how things go."

"All right," Maeve said, but it was obvious she was very unhappy at the thought of Caitlin being so far away.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Monday morning, Jamie was hard at work on her golf game, having noticed that Juliet hadn’t arrived at her usual, early time. The blonde worked until 9, and when she looked up, she saw Juliet sneaking away, beating a hasty retreat down the path to the parking lot.

Deciding that she was not going to let the incident pass without comment, and wanting to get it over with, Jamie left her clubs lying right where they were and took off after the woman. She caught up with her just as Juliet was hurling her clubs into her car. "Hey, wait up," Jamie called out.

"I’ve got a test this morning," the taller woman said. "I don’t have a minute to spare."

"Fine," Jamie said, "but you and I are going to talk about what happened on Saturday night. When is your last class over?"

"This isn’t a good time for me, Jamie," she said.

"I don’t care, Juliet. You can spend a half hour at some point in the day. Now, when will it be?"

"Uhm … I’m finished by four," she said weakly, staring at the ground.

"Good. Do you know where the softball stadium is?"

"Uhm … yeah, I think so."

"Meet me there. I’ll be there by 4, and I’ll stay until 6 — that will give you plenty of time — even if you get lost."

"Fine," she agreed, nodding.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jamie saw a large woman, huffing up the hill on her bicycle. "Uhm … you might want to get going, Juliet."

"Huh?"

As she said this, Ryan rode up to them, grabbing onto her brakes and skidding a few feet — sending up a flourish of gravel and dust. "Nice morning for a ride," Ryan said to Juliet, grinning like a tiger seconds before it pounces upon a wounded animal. "You guys about done? I thought we could have breakfast, maybe — chat — a little." Her eyes were flashing with unspoken malice, and even though a part of Jamie was irritated with her partner, there was something tremendously sexy about the menace that Ryan projected.

Moving to her side, Jamie snaked her arm around Ryan’s waist, hugging her firmly. She put her other hand behind Ryan’s black-helmeted head and pulled her down, kissing her cheek while she muttered, "Show off."

Despite her determination to show Juliet that she didn’t look kindly upon her taking liberties with Jamie, the dark woman couldn’t stop herself from giving her partner a guilty smile, adding a kiss to Jamie’s cheek.

"I’ve got to go," Juliet said, looking like she was about to wet her pants. "Big test. Big, big test." She was in her car, pulling out before either woman could speak.

Ryan shook her head, giving Jamie a puzzled look as she asked, "Does she always drive with her spikes on?"

"You are such a brat!" Jamie gave the Lycra-encased butt a firm swat, shaking her head when Ryan looked like she’d enjoyed it. "What am I gonna do with you, you possessive little thing?"

"Jamie, you can’t blame me," she said. "You’re so beautiful, so desirable, so bright, so clever, so kind, so …"

"Can it, tough girl. I told you I could take care of myself, and I can." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ryan on the lips, lingering longer than was prudent, given the venue. "I shouldn’t encourage you, but there’s something kinda sexy about having my big, tough girlfriend protecting me — even though I don’t need it."

"I know you don’t need it, Jamie," Ryan said, staring into her eyes. "But right now — for some reason, I need to do it." She wrapped her arms around her partner and said, "I don’t want to make you feel like I think you’re a frail, little flower, but I need to bare my teeth once in a while."

Jamie returned the hug, making it nice and hard like Ryan liked it. "You can bare you teeth — once in a while, Buffy. But just for show. I don’t want you biting anyone."

"Only love bites," Ryan said, smiling toothily. "Guess what I’m going to do when I get home?"

"No idea."

"I’m going to take off my bike clothes, throw them in the wash, and when they’re clean, I’m going to put them away until summer — at the earliest."

Jamie gave her a smile that brightened every inch of her face, then wrapped her arms around Ryan’s waist and gazed up at her. "I don’t think I could love you any more than I do at this moment."

Bending to kiss her, Ryan murmured, "Your expectations are far too meager. We’re gonna love each other much, much more. I’m sure of it."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan had just spent three hours with her math professor, Robin Berkowitz, and Vijay, her graduate student advisor, going over her independent project with such attention to detail that she felt absolutely drained. Spying a rest room, she practically sprinted for it — having been so engrossed in the discussion that she’d paid no attention to her personal needs.

Ryan emerged from the rest room stall and balanced her books on the adjoining sink. Then she bent over and splashed cold water on her face, and patted her strained eyes with a damp paper towel.

As she gazed at herself in the mirror, another stall door opened, and the last person she ever wanted to see emerged. Cassie Martin stood stock-still for a moment, a tiny flicker of fear showing in her eyes, then let her usual nasty personality emerge as she strode across the floor to the sink. "I can’t believe you have the guts to show your face around this campus," she said, not even looking at Ryan.

The taller woman thought back to her promises — the ones she’d made to Jamie, and Amanda and Father Pender. She’d promised each of them that she was going to do her very best to take the high road in this little soap opera, and not stoop to Cassie’s level. So, she ignored the woman completely, acting like she hadn’t heard anyone speak — even though her guts were roiling.

"Huh," the blonde grunted, "I guess your ‘no comment’ thing holds for every area of your life. Buuuuut … that only makes sense when the details of your existence are so sordid."

With shaking hands, Ryan picked up her books and started for the door, wishing the damned bathroom wasn’t so long.

"You know, you’ve even more of a whore than I thought you were," Cassie said. "It’s bad enough what you did to Jamie, but the things I read about you and that little girl. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Ryan. Isn’t 14 a little young — even for you?"

Ryan felt her hands whiten on her books, but she continued to walk, not saying a word.

"Or did you have to bring her into the mix for Jamie?" Cassie asked, her voice dripping with venom. "The kid’s probably more to her liking anyway — they’re about the same age — sexually, at least." She found her comment quite funny, and she was laughing softly when Ryan dropped her books with a thud and quickly reached up to lock the door to the facility.

The laugh was cut off so quickly that it sounded as though her throat had been slit, but Ryan hadn’t touched her — yet. In a heartbeat, Ryan was right on top of Cassie, pinning her to the sink with her substantially greater bulk. "You can say whatever you want to say about me, but don’t you ever … ever mention Jamie’s name again. A slime-dweller like you isn’t worthy of licking the soles of her shoes."

Cassie’s eyes were remarkably wide, and Ryan could see her pulse throbbing on the side of her throat. "D … don’t be so touchy," she said, trying to sound braver than she was.

Leaning in a little harder, Ryan could feel the smaller woman’s flesh compress as she pressed against her. She knew the sink was digging into the backs of Cassie’s thighs, so she leaned in just a bit more. "Jamie and I’ve already talked about this," Ryan said, menace oozing from her, "and she doesn’t mind if we have to pay a substantial sum of damages to you. She wants me to feel better." Pushing forward until she could hear Cassie gasp in pain, she said, "I’ve tried to control myself, but it’s a losing battle. I think I’ll feel better if I hurt you — badly."

The blonde spoke so quickly that her words tumbled from her lips. "You’ll go to jail! You can’t just beat people up! You’ll be in prison — then where will Jamie be?"

Ryan leaned over her, bending Cassie into an inverted "C". "I told you to never speak her name again. I … meant … that."

"Okay! Okay! But you will go to jail if you hit me!"

"You don’t know much about the justice system. Not many people do time for hitting someone." Ryan leaned even harder against the woman, smiling when Cassie gasped in pain. "But, given your connections, I guess you could make things tough for me." She appeared to be thinking through the ramifications of her plan. "If there’s a chance of going to the slammer I’d better make sure I get my money’s worth."

"No! You’ll be thrown out of school! Think of yourself!"

Ryan seemed to do just that. "I guess I’ll have to make sure no one can prove it was me. It’ll be your word against mine, and of the two of us, I have a much better record for telling the truth. The only evidence they’d have is if I scraped my knuckles on your ugly face, or got your blood on me." She looked around the room and her eyes landed on a plunger. "I could beat the crap out of you with that stick …" she said thoughtfully. "Fill your mouth full of wet paper towels so no one could hear you scream … take off my shirt so the blood doesn’t splatter …" Her brow furrowed as she said, "Of course, I could drown you in the toilet. That would be all too fitting, wouldn’t it?"

"Why are you doing this?" Cassie whimpered, her voice shaking. "What do you want?"

"Want? I don’t want anything," Ryan said, "other than to cause you pain." She leaned forward with her torso, forcing Cassie’s head against the mirror. Ryan was so close she could have bitten her, and Cassie stared at her with round eyes. "You know, I’ve always wondered which it was. No rational person would care that Jamie and I were together — unless that person was insanely jealous." Pushing forward again, Ryan purred, "Which of us is it? Jamie or me?"

Cassie had to put her hands behind herself to stop the faucets from gouging into her kidneys. Her flailing hands accidentally hit the cold water tap — and the ice cold spray started to pour into the waistband of her khaki’s. "Ahhhh!" she screamed, writhing against Ryan, their breasts compressing.

"Oh … it’s me, huh? That was always my guess, since you were nice to Jamie until I came along." Ryan’s body ate up the last inch of space, and she murmured, "You’ve dreamed about being this close to me, haven’t you."

"No! No! I’m not like that!"

"Well, we’ll never find out, because you make both of us sick." Ryan started to stand up, but she put a restraining hand on Cassie’s shoulder, holding her in place. "You know, as much as I want to hurt you physically, and believe me, I do, I think I’d get more satisfaction out of hurting your reputation — sleazy though it is. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but you’ve woken me from slumber, sweetie-pie, and vengeance will be mine." She leaned over until their noses touched. "Dream of me," she whispered, then swiped her tongue in a long, wet trail all the way up the blonde’s flushed cheek. Striding away from the shaking woman, Ryan bent to pick her books up with a remarkable degree of grace. Flicking the door lock open with her hand, she glided from the room — feeling better than she had in weeks.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jamie was sitting in the stands at the softball stadium that afternoon, giving half of her attention to practice, and half to her real estate text. It was so overcast and cloudy, that they’d turned the lights on — but there was still plenty of light to read by. Ashley and Jennie were sitting about 20 feet away, with Ashley drilling the younger girl for a test. Juliet showed up at 4:30, obviously hoping that Jamie wouldn’t have time to talk. When Jamie saw the woman reluctantly approach, she twitched her head and led her to the grassy area by the ticket window on the outside of the complex. "We can talk here without having anyone hear us," she said.

"Uhm … what do you want to talk about?" Juliet asked, trying to look innocent.

"You know darned well what I want to talk about. Now, let’s get this out of the way so we can move on, okay?"

"O … okay," the larger woman agreed.

"What’s the deal, Juliet?" Jamie asked, sitting down on the grass to get comfortable.

"You didn’t honestly think I was going to let you kiss me, did you?"

"Jamie, I swear I didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve never been drunk before — I lost my mind."

Giving her a long look, Jamie said, "I have some experience in this area, Juliet, and let me assure you — being drunk doesn’t cause you to do things that aren’t in your nature. Alcohol lets you do things that you want to do — but don’t have the nerve or the sense to do while you’re sober."

Juliet looked at the ground, not saying a word.

"Saturday night wasn’t the first time I felt that you were attracted to me," Jamie said quietly. "I got strange vibes from you that time you showed me how to hit your seven-wood, too. Is this something that’s going to come between us for the rest of the year?"

"No, no, it’s not, definitely not," Juliet said decisively. "I was out of line on Saturday, and I promise I’ll never let myself get drunk again. I obviously can’t handle it."

"What about the other time, Juliet? You weren’t drunk then."

"I … I don’t remember that day the way you do, Jamie. I … uhm … maybe you’re ultra-sensitive to things like that."

The blonde smiled and shook her head. "No, I’m really not, Juliet, but if you don’t want to talk about this with me, I can’t make you."

"There’s nothing to talk about," Juliet said, getting up from the ground. "I got drunk and acted like an idiot. I promise I’ll never touch you again, Jamie. Ever."

"I know you won’t," Jamie said, giving her a wry smile. "Your career means too much to you to have my partner lose control and break your hands." She looked at the woman for a moment and said, "I wish I were kidding, but she’s been under a lot of stress. She honestly might hurt you."

"Jamie," the taller woman said, her expression earnest, "I promise I’ll never be inappropriate with you again. It will not happen!"

"Okay. That’s all that I can ask. See you tomorrow."

Jamie started to walk back towards the stadium, and Juliet asked, "Why are you hanging out here?"

"Oh, Ryan’s on the softball team. Wanna stick around and say hi?"

"No … no …" she said, backing away quickly. "Gotta run." And run she did, jogging at a quicker clip than Jamie had ever seen the golfer move.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as Jamie took her seat, she started to study again, barely noticing what was going on. Heather and Ryan both bounded into the stands at 6 o’clock, thoroughly startling their fans. "Yikes!" Jamie cried, looking up into Ryan’s sweaty face. "Is it 6 already?"

"Sure is. Hang on and I’ll be back in a few. I want to put on some dry clothes."

Jamie patted her butt and sent her on her way, then went over to chat with Ashley and Jennie for a moment. As expected, the jocks were back in a flash, but Ryan had on a clean T-Shirt and her warm-ups, so Jamie wasn’t going to press her luck by chiding her for not showering. "Ready to go, slugger?" Jamie asked.

Ryan shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Wanna see if the other girls want to join us for some dinner on Telegraph?"

"Sure. That’d be fine."

Ryan looked over and said, "Hey, we’re gonna get some dinner. You guys up for it?"

"I can’t," Jennie said, shaking her head. "I’ve gotta study every minute for this history test."

"We thought we’d drag Jen back to the dorm with us and drill her over dinner," Ashley said, making Jennie’s eyes light up.

"Really? I’ll have to call home and ask if I can, but I’m sure Sandy won’t mind."

Jamie handed over her cell phone, and Jennie dialed while Ryan smiled at her friends. "You two have really come through with Jen," she said. "We can’t tell you how much we appreciate it."

"It’s fun," Ashley said. "I want to be a teacher when I graduate, and working with Jennie makes me see that it can be fun to help someone who wants to learn."

Jennie handed the phone back, grinning from ear to ear. "I can go!"

"Let’s get moving," Heather said. "We’ve got over a hundred years to cover."

"See you," Ryan called out, and Jamie waved at the departing trio.

Ryan sat next to her partner, cuddling up to her as the overhead lights switched off. "Let’s stay here and neck."

"It’s freezing, you goof! You’ve got to get home and jump in the shower."

"Uhm … do you have your car?"

"No, I walked. Why?"

"Let’s stop and get some coffee. I can warm up and then we can have dinner."

"Don’t you have to study tonight?"

"Uhm … yeah, I could do a little work. We could go to the library after dinner."

"Honey," Jamie said, always attuned to the unspoken messages her partner sent out. "Is there some reason you don’t want to go home?"

"Mmm … I’m a teeny tiny bit worried that the police might be at the house," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"The police, huh? Any particular reason they might be paying us a visit?"

"Well … I kinda ran into someone today, and she might have filed a police report against me."

"Did you run into this woman while you were on your motorcycle?" Jamie asked, thoroughly confused.

"No, I was on foot. She might have thought I was threatening her with bodily harm … Well, I was threatening her with bodily harm, but she might not have known it was just a threat. Well … I guess it wasn’t just a threat … I was hoping she’d hit me, so I could crack her skull open like a coconut."

Jamie grabbed the closest ear she could find and gave it a yank. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"I ran into your ex-roommate in the bathroom today," Ryan said, waiting for the words to sink in.

"Oh, God," Jamie said, dropping her head to her knees. "What’d you do to her?"

"Nothing … well … almost nothing. I pressed her up against the sink and leaned on her a little bit. I doubt that she even has bruises."

"Ryan! Why did you do that? You said you were going to control yourself."

"No … I said I was going to try to control myself. I did try, Jamie, I tried very hard. She pushed me, baby; and if she’d said the same thing to you, you’d have punched her lights out. She did her best to provoke me, and she succeeded."

She said this with such a carefree tone, that Jamie was frankly puzzled. "Why aren’t you upset? I thought it would make you crazy to let her get to you."

"Nope. I feel great, actually. She’s a big, fucking bully, and sometimes it feels nice to make a bully quake with fear. She was about to wet her pants," Ryan said, chuckling softly. "Well, she did wet her pants, but that was from me jamming her against the faucet. Today was a bad day to wear khaki’s," she said, shaking her head with false regret.

"You’re really okay?" Jamie asked, searching Ryan’s eyes.

"Yep. She can’t prove I did anything to her, and the police won’t arrest me for some idle threat about beating her senseless with a plunger …"

A hand rose, stopping her in mid-sentence. "I don’t want to know the details. I’m very glad that you got it out of your system. As long as you don’t have to go to jail, I’m happy."

"Uhm … one more little, tiny thing," Ryan said, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly. "If they believe her, they might test me for rabies."

"WHAT? Did you bite her?"

"Noooo," Ryan said. "But I … uhm … I … kinda … licked her."

"You … licked … her." Jamie said each word very slowly, her eyes narrowing with each syllable. "You licked Cassie Martin." Her head cocked, and the blonde fixed Ryan with a pensive gaze. "I can’t wait to hear this one."

Looking perplexed, Ryan once again shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly can’t explain it, Jamie. There was a moment there when I knew that she was truly terrified. I had to mark her."

"You had to … mark … her."

"Honey, it was either that or lift my leg and pee on her. I felt like a dog, claiming my territory. It was so primal, so instinctive." She shivered roughly. "I can’t describe it to you, baby. If you’ve never felt that way, you don’t have the proper frame of reference."

The smaller woman dropped her head into her hands once again, then sat up and shook her head. "I think we have to put this behind us. I don’t think I want to know the part of you that made you do that."

"Just as well," Ryan agreed. "There’s a part of me that I don’t understand, so I can hardly expect you to decipher it."

Jamie gazed at her partner for a moment, finally lifting her hand to slide her fingers through her bangs. "Are you sure you won’t have to go to jail for this, honey?"

"Nope. She can’t make this one stick," Ryan said, full of confidence. "And next time, she might have the sense to keep her ugly trap shut."

"Is there going to be a next time, Ryan?" Jamie asked, searching her partner’s eyes.

The dark head nodded. "There might well be. I’m still hungry for revenge."

Sighing deeply, Jamie took a minute to organize her thoughts. "Don’t tell me about it, okay? You know I usually like to be informed about everything you do — but I don’t want to know if you think of some way to get back at her." She stroked Ryan’s face and said, "You do what you need to do, honey — but I can’t afford to worry about you. We’ll deal with the consequences when the time comes — but please do me a favor and make it a civil suit, rather than criminal, okay? I can’t bear the thought of having to visit you in prison."

"It’s a deal. If I get my revenge, we’ll be able to buy our way out of it — and at this point, it’s worth an awful lot of money to me."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Jamie?" Jim Evans’ voice boomed through her cell phone, bright and early on Tuesday morning.

"Hi, Daddy. What’s up?"

"Well, since I’m coming down for the weekend, I’ve decided to come a few days early and conduct some business. I thought, if you were free, that we could have dinner together … say, tomorrow?"

"Uhm … sure, I know that I can. Is … do you want Ryan to join us?"

"Oh! I assumed … of course," he said, rather enthusiastically. "I meant both of you, honey."

"Thanks, Dad," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "You’re really making an effort here, and I appreciate it so much."

"I’m trying, Jamie," he said quietly. He cleared his throat and said, "I have another agenda for the evening, honey, and I hope you can be understanding about it."

"What’s that?"

"I’ve uhm … I’ve decided to start seeing Kayla again."

She was quiet for a moment, fighting the urge to express her true feelings. "I hope that works out for you, Dad."

"That’s it?" he asked carefully. "You’re not disappointed in me?"

"Dad, Mom’s filed for divorce. As long as you’re with someone past the age of consent, it’s none of my business."

"She’s young, but she’s not that young, Jamie," he said with a hint of a tease in his voice.

"How old is she, Daddy?" she asked in kind.

"She’s uhm … she’s 26," he said, grimacing as the number left his mouth.

"Mmm … two years older than Ryan," she said. "Well, age is just a number, Dad. What matters is that you enjoy being with her, and she with you."

"I don’t know if this will last," he said. "But I’m going to try to make a go of it. I’d like to introduce you, Jamie."

She sucked in a breath at that, but did her best to sound calm. "Well, Dad, if you can get over your initial feelings about Ryan, I guess I can get over my initial feelings about Kayla. I’m willing to give it a try."

* * * * * * * * * * *

On Tuesday afternoon Ryan walked into her advisor’s office and knocked on his cubicle wall. "Hey, Vijay. Got a minute?"

He gave her his usual, warm smile and nodded. "Always, for you," he said, in his clipped, Bombay-accented speech pattern. "What is it, Ryan?"

"Well, I know you have more work than you can handle, but I was wondering if you could give me a hand with some programming. You’re the best programmer I know, Vijay."

He gave her a curious look and said, "What part of your project needs a program written? Have I missed something?"

"No, no, this is a special project I’m working on. It’s a personal kinda thing. I shouldn’t need too much of your time, actually. I only need you to help me chart it out and steer me in the right direction."

"Okay. I can spare some time. But you owe me dinner."

"Easy trade, Vijay. It’s a deal."

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Ryan walked into the house on Wednesday night, she went upstairs to get ready for their dinner engagement with Jim. After some negotiation, they agreed to have dinner at Chez Panisse, the site of Jamie’s birthday dinner. This time they had reservations in the more expensive upstairs dining room, and she knew she would have to dress up. Calling out a greeting to her partner, Ryan headed into the bath for a quick shower, then put on her suit, or as she now called it, her uniform. She went with the femmier look, wearing the sterling silver satin tank top and her dressy black flats, and she was just fastening her platinum necklace when Jamie came into her room.

"Zip me up?" the blonde asked.

"Okay," Ryan said, "but you know I far prefer the flip side of the job."

"I wish it were time for the flip side of the job," Jamie grumbled. "I so don’t want to do this."

"Honey, we had trouble accepting Aunt Maeve, and we loved her like a mother. This will take some getting used to."

"My dad and his girlfriend," she said with distaste. "That’s so trite!"

"Well, it’s certainly common," Ryan said. "But the only couple we have any control over is us. I’m bound and determined that our kids will always know only Mom and Mama."

Slipping her arms around Ryan’s waist, Jamie looked up at her and said, "You’ve got this all figured out, don’t ya?"

"What’s that?"

"Our names. You’ve already decided on what our kids will call us."

"Well, no, I haven’t," Ryan demurred. "I know they’ll call me Mama, but I’m guessing you’ll choose Mommy, which will turn into Mom when they’re old enough to be embarrassed."

"Like I said," Jamie insisted, "you’ve got this all figured out."

* * * * * * * * * * *

They arrived at the restaurant right on time, and as Ryan waited for the receipt from the valet, Jim and Kayla pulled up in a taxi.

"Good timing," Jamie said, giving her father a warm hug.

"Yes, it was," he said, looking very nervous. "Uhm … Jamie, this is Kayla Horwitz. Kayla, my daughter, Jamie."

The women shook hands, and Jamie was pleased to see that Kayla’s hand was slightly wetter than her own. Ryan came over and kissed Jim on the cheek, patiently waiting for her introduction. "This is Ryan O’Flaherty," Jim said, omitting her title. "Ryan, Kayla Horwitz."

"Good to meet you," they both said, nearly simultaneously.

They were shown to their table almost immediately, and Jim ordered a bottle of white wine for the table. Jamie knew they could all use a little loosening up, but she had already decided that she was going to stay completely sober — not liking where her mouth sometimes led her when she was tipsy.

Conversation was at a premium at the table, each person trying to get something going, but each failing miserably. The effort was giving Jamie a headache, and she excused herself to go to the rest room to get a moment alone. To her surprise, Kayla was practically on her heels, and when they reached the confines of the small room she said, "Look, Jamie, I know this is awkward. If I were in your shoes, and my dad was dating someone almost my age, I would hate it. I know you and I probably won’t get to be best buddies, but it’s important to your dad that we can reach some kind of accommodation."

Jamie looked up at her, then smiled gently and nodded. "I’d like to normalize this as soon as possible. You’re not the bad guy here, Kayla. It wasn’t you that caused my parents to split up." Even though you didn’t help matters, she conceded to herself. Extending her hand, they shook once again. "I’ll do my best."

"Me, too," the redhead said, following Jamie to return to the table.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Jamie took her seat, things were already going along better, with Ryan having set her mind on getting the conversation moving. She had brought up Jennie, and Jim immediately started to ask a plethora of questions. Kayla had volunteered at a legal clinic that dealt with a lot of child custody and other juvenile law issues, so she was interested, too, asking her own share of questions.

Once they had thoroughly covered Jennie and her progress, they were all more comfortable with each other, and the conversation started to flow. Jim was working on some interesting things, and he and Kayla complemented each other nicely as they jointly talked about their work.

Kayla was Jim’s junior legislative aide, but it was pretty clear that she was serving in a greater capacity. Jamie privately wondered what the senior legislative aide thought of the relationship, but she decided that really wasn’t her concern.

By the time dinner was over, they were all fairly comfortable with each other, and Jim seemed positively buoyant. Jamie and Ryan saw them off in a cab and stood by the valet stand while they waited for the Boxster to be delivered. "Thanks for putting the car in valet. I appreciate not having to walk blocks and blocks in heels."

"Well, I don’t like to, but since you insist on going with me to fetch the car, you’ve tied my hands," Ryan said.

"Mmm … don’t give me any ideas," the smaller woman murmured softly into Ryan’s ear.

The blue eyes widened perceptibly as she blinked slowly at her partner. "Do I make you horny, baby?" she said in an imitation of Austin Powers that she used exclusively to annoy Jamie.

"If you repeat one more line from that movie, I’m going to tie your hands and gag you," the blonde threatened.

"Ooo … big talk. Let’s see you back it up with some action, hot stuff."

Jamie shook her head quickly and said, "I was about to make a comment about my father and Kayla, and all of a sudden we’re talking like we’re in a porn movie!"

"You haven’t seen many porn movies, if that’s how you think people talk," Ryan said. "Actually, you haven’t seen many porn movies if you think people talk at all!"

"Well, actually, I haven’t seen any, but that’s beside the point. What did you think of Kayla?"

"I liked her well enough," Ryan said. "She seemed to click with your dad, and after we got over our initial nervousness I thought things went well. Now about those movies …"

"Focus, tiger," Jamie chided. "I feel pretty good about the evening, too. If she sticks around for a while, I think I can tolerate it."

"I don’t see them together long term," Ryan said, as she tipped the valet and got into the Boxster.

"How come?"

"Mmm … I guess it’s possible to bridge the age difference, but she’s a very young woman. I can’t imagine that she won’t want kids at some point, and I can’t see that your dad will want to have them when he’s fifty. I could be wrong, but I think a twenty year age gap — at this point in their lives — is too hard."

"I don’t see it lasting, either," Jamie said, "but for another reason. I can’t imagine that she’ll keep him interested. He’s not very mature, as you may have noticed, and I think the lure of the unknown will always tempt him."

"Time will tell," Ryan said, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Now about those movies …"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan’s motor was running by the time they returned home, and when Jamie went into the bath to get ready for bed, she heard her partner banging around in the bedroom. "What are you doing out there?" Jamie called out.

"Getting ready," Ryan cryptically replied.

When Jamie emerged, the grinning brunette was finishing hooking up and plugging in the VCR. "Have you ever used this thing?" she asked.

"Not often. I used to have it in the library, but I rarely watched it down there. I thought I might use it more up here, but I obviously haven’t," she said. "Advertisers are going broke with us, and we’re the prime demographic."

"Mia always has the TV on in her room. She can represent the whole house. Now, we have two choices," she said, eyes flashing with excitement.

"Are we really going to watch a porn movie?" Jamie giggled, looking mildly embarrassed.

"Well, yeah," Ryan said, giving her a puzzled look. "Don’t you wanna?"

"I don’t know." She looked down at the ground and said, "It feels kinda weird."

"Because?"

"I don’t know," the blonde repeated. "I’ve never watched one before."

"It’s not a difficult thing to master," Ryan teased. "You watch for a while, you get hot, you have sex. It’s a snap!"

Her well-defined chin tilted, and Jamie looked at her partner curiously. "You get hot watching them?"

"Yeah. Definitely. That’s the point. They’re some of the worst examples of movie making in the universe. If they didn’t get you hot, they’d have no value whatsoever."

"I don’t know," Jamie said for the third time. "I’m not sure if I’ll think it’s erotic. I’m not all that fond of penises, and watching straight girls have sex for a guy doesn’t do a thing for me."

Ryan gave her a completely puzzled look and asked, "Have you confused me with another? There aren’t any men in the movies I own. Geez! Give the girl a break!"

"Oh!" Jamie started to giggle. "I thought there would be guys, and girls with big hair and high heels and lacy undies. That’s what you always see in the X-rated section at the video store."

"You, my friend, have been going to the wrong video store. Now, I don’t want to pressure you in the least. If you want to watch this, fine — if you don’t, that’s fine too. But, just so you know, it’s made by lesbians for lesbians. There isn’t a penis in the neighborhood."

"Bring it on," Jamie declared with a big smile.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ryan stuck the tape in and hit play. Then she climbed onto the bed, and snuggled up next to her partner. They were both wearing T-shirts, but not another stitch, and before the credits rolled, Jamie had to get under the covers. "It’s cold in here," she complained. Ryan complied with her wishes, and soon thereafter the screen was filled with the image of a woman, standing out on a redwood deck — a beautiful tree-lined vista filling the sky behind her.

The doorbell of her home rang, and she walked inside to answer. "Here comes the biggest patch of dialogue," Ryan advised.

The woman opened the door to find a friend she had obviously been waiting for, for after 15 seconds of small talk, they started to kiss. "Oh, they kiss nice," Jamie mused. "I’ve never watched women kiss before."

"What? Mia and Jordan are attached to each other like they’ve been super-glued at the lips!"

"Yeah, but I don’t watch them. I see that they’re kissing, and I avert my eyes."

"Heh." Ryan tried to look innocent, but as usual her act backfired.

"You look, don’t you!"

"Of course," Ryan said. "I mean, I don’t stare or anything, but I like to check out a good kiss when I see one. Mia has a style that is … decidedly enthusiastic," she said with a wicked smile.

Jamie slapped at her thigh and said, "You’re the last one who needs lessons in enthusiasm."

"Shh! The clothes are gonna start dropping."

"How many times have you seen this?"

"Mmm … couple dozen," she guessed.

"A few dozen times?" Jamie cried.

"Yeah. I bought this when I was seventeen. I had some real dry spells back then. Watching this made me feel like I wasn’t the only lesbian in town."

"And it got you off," Jamie added with a little smirk.

"Like a charm."

"Hey! Where did you watch these movies? Did you have a VCR in your room?"

"Heck, no," Ryan said, shaking her head as she laughed softly. "I had to wait until Da and the boys were at work or at school. I think that’s why I can get turned on so quickly. I had to make the most of my opportunities."

Jamie blinked at her, raising her eyebrows in a look that was partially disbelieving and partially repulsed. "You’d lie on your father’s bed and …"

"No!" Ryan cried, slapping her partner’s thigh. "That’s gross!" She sniffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I sat on the floor." Giving Jamie a randy wink, she added, "Brought me closer to the screen, too."

"Lord, Ryan, with one TV in the house, one of the four of you was probably trying to get a half hour alone to watch porn constantly."

Ryan chuckled, her eyes crinkling up as she nodded. "Mmm … not Conor, but Rory and I were always finagling to get to be the only one left at home."

"Maybe that was your father’s plan to keep you all from constant self-abuse."

"You’re starting to sound like my granny," Ryan warned, "and she’s the last person I want to have in my head when I’m watching porn."

"I’m surprised to hear that Conor wasn’t interested in dirty movies," Jamie said. "Of course, he was probably too busy actually having sex to bother with it."

Ryan chuckled and said, "No he wasn’t. He just liked getting paid for his pleasure. When he hadn’t had a date in a while, he’d go donate sperm. It used to piss me off that he could get $50 to watch porn, and I had to do it for free."

Blinking slowly, Jamie said, "He really did that?"

"Yeah. All the time. He only stopped when Da caught him boasting about it. Conor tried to convince him that he was doing a humanitarian deed, but when Da found out he got paid for pullin’ his wire, he put a stop to it immediately."

"Pulling his wire, huh? That’s new one." Jamie giggled softly, but then her brow furrowed. "God, I wonder how many little Conors are running around San Francisco."

"Given how often he went, I’d say there could be hundreds," Ryan said. "But, a donor can only father so many children. I’m not sure how many you can have, but it’s not a lot." Cocking her head, Ryan said, "How did we get on the topic of Conor’s pleasure? Let’s concentrate on our own, okay?"

Jamie turned her head to the screen, and was immediately rewarded by a very appealing sight. "Oh, my," she murmured. "Now that is a nice pair of breasts."

"What makes them nice?" Ryan asked. "Since you’re such a breast-o-phile, I’m sure you have criteria."

"Of course I do," she sniffed. "Those are nice because they have a nice heft to them. Not too big, but they definitely move. They’re fairly symmetrical; they both point the same way, and have nice skin tone. Nice nipples, too. Not as nice as yours, I might add, but nice."

"Why, thank you," Ryan said, grinning.

"Mmm … the blonde knows how to play with them, too," Jamie said. "Oh, I love it when you do that to me."

Ryan shifted around and slid in behind her partner, pulling her against her chest. While the woman on screen played with her co-star’s breasts, Ryan mimicked her, tickling and teasing Jamie through her T-shirt. "I’d go to the movies every night if we could do this," the smaller woman murmured.

"Nine fifty would seem like a bargain price, too," Ryan said. "Pay attention now. The other woman’s shirt’s coming off."

"Not bad," Jamie said. "A little meager for my tastes, but they’d do in a pinch."

"Speaking of pinching …" Ryan predicted.

"Ouch! That looked like it hurt!"

"The pinchee doesn’t seem to mind," Ryan said. "There go the jeans."

Jamie was completely silent for a few minutes, watching the women strip completely. Once they were nude, they went out onto the deck, tossed some pillows onto the floor, and lay next to one another. Their hands were everywhere, stroking, sliding over each other, playing gently with each other’s breasts, and squeezing firm ass cheeks. Ryan noticed her partner shifting around a bit, and she guessed that the movie was having its intended effect. "Damn, it’s beautiful to watch two women make love," Jamie sighed. "A woman’s body is such a work of art."

"All of those nice curves," Ryan said, drawing her hand over all of Jamie’s that she could reach.

"The nice, smooth muscles," Jamie said, squeezing the muscular thighs that surrounded her. "Everything’s nice and round and soft and squishy."

"Squishy?"

"Yeah … like when my breasts squish against yours."

"Squishy’s nice," Ryan murmured.

"Wanna squish together now?" the blonde asked softly.

"Perfect timing." Ryan switched off the VCR and started to tug her partner’s T-shirt off.

"What else do the women in the movie do?" Jamie asked.

"Mmm … they go down on each other in the next scene. Other than that, I have no idea. I’ve never gotten farther than that."

"In dozens of viewings?"

"Hey, I’m easy. If I can get off in ten minutes, why waste time?" Her eyes grew wide, and she hastened to add, "That only applies to getting myself off. I like you to take all the time in the world."

"Your wish is my command," the blonde said, and proceeded to love her partner nice and slow and unhurriedly.

* * * * * * * * * * *

On Thursday night, Jamie lay nestled in Ryan’s arms, listening to the steady, slow beat of her heart. "I love listening to you breathe," she sighed, making Ryan chuckle mildly.

"I’m kinda fond of it myself," the dark woman murmured. "I’d miss it if I stopped."

Reaching up a few inches, Jamie managed to get her fingers up under Ryan’s last rib, a sure-fire tickle spot. Amid the startled laughter, she said, "I’m so excited about seeing your first game tomorrow. I went to the store and loaded up on film, just for the occasion."

"Oh, no!" Ryan cried, her chagrin only partially faked. "Is this gonna be like ‘first day of school’ pictures that Da always made us pose for?"

"Yep. I’m gonna take at least two rolls of you. I think I’ll have you in those action poses like they do on the real baseball cards."

"Well, that will assure that I win the biggest dork competition on the team," Ryan teased. "Oh, well, it’s nice to be the best at something."

Jamie hugged her tighter and said, "You know I’d never embarrass you in front of your teammates. I’ll make sure I have you pose in private."

"It’s a deal. I won’t complain about the pictures, if you don’t make me look like a nut in front of my teammates."

"There’s only so much control I have over that, but I’ll do my best," Jamie said, dissolving into laughter when Ryan returned the favor and tickled her mercilessly.

* * * * * * * * * * *

On Friday morning, the junior Senator from the state of California met his old golfing buddies near the driving range of the Olympic Club. The first to arrive was Adam Christopher, Mia’s father, and one of Jim’s oldest friends.

Even though they were close, they rarely spoke for more than thirty seconds on the phone — and it was rare to even do that; they usually had their secretaries make arrangements for them to play golf or go sailing. The status quo didn’t change once Jim left for Washington, and as his friend rolled up in a cart, he considered that he hadn’t spoken to Adam since he had left. Thus, they had not discussed the tumult of the carjacking, nor had they broached the subject of Jim’s divorce.

The tall man had absolutely nothing in common with his daughter, physically, Jim mused as Adam walked towards him. He was broad shouldered and lanky, with blue eyes and a shock of fine, straight, blonde hair that constantly tried to fall into his eyes. Having recently spent a little time in Mia’s company, Jim decided that even though the pair looked nothing alike, Mia had inherited a good portion of her father’s laid-back attitude.

Adam was the prototypical California beach bum when Jim met him during their freshman year at Stanford. Very easy-going, with a razor-sharp mind, the young man had impressed Jim immediately with his ability to glide through Stanford without obvious effort. Always up for a party or a road trip, Adam had been the one to introduce Jim to both marijuana and a long line of beautiful women.

Women found Adam completely irresistible — possibly because he acted like he was fully able to resist every one of them. He was always fun-loving and attentive when he was in a woman’s company, but he never sought them out — preferring to make a woman chase him — which many did. Jim learned a lot from watching his worldlier friend, and by the time they were ready to graduate, they had cut a wide swath through the field of eligible women in Palo Alto.

Things didn’t change much when they entered law school together. Their brothers of Sigma Chi were not at all surprised when hard-working Jim Evans was accepted to the law school, but many jaws dropped when Adam Christopher was admitted as well. Most of their frat brothers assumed Adam would ride a surfboard for most of his life, with a healthy supply of women to tend to his needs; but that wasn’t Adam’s plan.

Beneath the carefree exterior was a very competitive, ambitious young man, and when he entered law school that side of his personality started to emerge. He focused his talents for the first time in his life, and was soon near the top of his class … usually a spot or two above his frustrated friend Jim.

Near the end of their first year of law school, Adam met the woman he would marry. A more diametrically opposite pair it was hard to imagine; but for the first time, Adam did the chasing. Anna Lisa Poncirolli was a full-time employee working in the law library, and from the first time he saw her, Adam set his sights on wooing and winning the attractive young woman’s heart.

Anna Lisa was a lovely young woman with dark, curly hair, her eyes so dark as to appear black in low light. Her olive-toned skin and petite frame contrasted starkly with the tall, fair, blonde man, and their physical differences were not the only ones that revealed themselves.

Anna Lisa was not a Stanford student — her immigrant parents could never have dreamed of being able to afford the tuition, but that didn’t stop the determined young woman. She had talked her way into a job at Stanford when she was fresh out of high school, and had been spending the last four years taking evening classes through Stanford Extension. It wasn’t the same as earning a degree, but she was learning a great deal and improving her mind, which was her main goal. There were many ways the young woman could have obtained a degree, including the affordable city college route, but she saw the respect that Stanford graduates were afforded, and she cast her lot with the school, even though she had neither the grades nor the money to be admitted into a degree program.

At first, Adam’s friends assumed that he was stooping below his social class with his determined pursuit of the young, working-class woman. But as more of them got to know her, their opinions quickly changed when they saw what a perfect, albeit mismatched, pair they made.

After a whirlwind courtship, Adam had his prize; and he and Jim subsequently exchanged best-man duties at each other’s weddings. Adam and Anna Lisa were married in August of that year, and ten months later, their son Peter was born. Mia came along ten months after Jamie, and to Jim’s knowledge, the pair had been happily married throughout.

Adam approached and gave his old friend a hearty handshake. "You look great!" he exclaimed, slapping Jim on the back. "I always knew that senators led a charmed life. You’re the living proof of that, Jim. Jesus, you look ten years younger!"

"Thanks, Adam," he said. "I wouldn’t let this get around, but it’s the truth. I haven’t had a schedule this relaxed since we were in law school. Oh, I have most of my evenings filled with receptions and speeches, but it’s not the grinding pressure of practicing law. I don’t know how I’ll ever go back," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, you can cross that bridge when you come to it. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities that come from this. Besides, you could always retire and spend the rest of your life sailing, if you wanted to."

Jim decided to get the topic out of the way, so he said, "I could have a year ago, pal, but I don’t have Catherine’s money to prop me up any longer. The divorce will be final in five months."

"Tough break," Adam said, giving his friend another pat on the back. "How’d it go for you?"

"It went fine," Jim said. "Well, as fine as a divorce can be, I suppose. It was the most amicable divorce in California history near as I can tell. I defaulted."

"You what?"

"Hey, people are trying to play golf; lower your voice," Jim said. "You obviously heard me. Catherine initiated the idea … I made a proposal … she incorporated my proposal into her petition, and I defaulted. The judge granted her petition, and in a few months it’s final."

"Jesus," Adam gaped, "Catherine is obviously the person to divorce if you’ve gotta divorce someone. What did her attorneys say?"

"She has the most disappointed attorney in the entire bar," Jim said. "She paid the guy for about two hours of work, as a matter of fact. All he had to do was review the document I sent to her and file it."

"Wait a minute," Adam insisted. "Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, it’s great that you got a good deal, but what if it gets out that a senator screwed his wife over in a divorce? I mean, look what the press did to Newt Gingrich when they found out about him filing when his wife was in the hospital."

"Adam, Catherine did not, in any way, get screwed over in this divorce. I asked for my cars and the gifts she’s given me. That’s it."

"Are you insane?"

"No, no, I’m not," Jim said. "I make a very good living … or at least I did when I was with the firm. If I can’t figure out how to live on a million bucks a year, I ought to be ashamed of myself."

"But you’re used to so much more!"

"Yes, I am, but I’ve had a great ride for 22 years. She doesn’t owe me more than that, but she very generously transferred title to my apartment in the city, so at least I’ll have a place to hang my hat."

"Unbelievable," Adam muttered. "That’s going to be some adjustment, Jim. Not to say it’s not a nice apartment, but …"

"Look, Adam, she’s been much more patient than I deserve. Believe me, she’s put up with more shit than most women would tolerate. She should have kicked me out on my ass fifteen years ago." He was shaking his head at himself, his remorse showing in a way his friend had never seen.

"This has really shaken you up, hasn’t it?" Adam asked with sympathy.

"Yeah, it has," Jim said quietly. "It’s been a hell of a year."

"All the mess with Jamie sure must have made it worse," Adam said, acknowledging he was aware of the facts, but trying not to pry.

"Yeah … that was a wake-up call, Adam. You don’t step back and think how lucky you are until you almost lose a child. I’ve had more nightmares than I can count."

"Mia says she’s doing well now," Adam said, not having any desire to talk about the details he had learned from the media and his daughter.

"She’s great," Jim said. "I’m actually in town mainly because we’re having a birthday party for her this Saturday." He looked at his friend and said, "Six months ago I was fixated on her revelation that she was in love with another woman. After everything that’s happened, I kick myself when I think about how stupid I was. She’s a wonderful young woman, no matter who she loves, and I’m damned lucky to have her."

"I’m glad to hear that, Jim," he said, with a smile curling up the corner of his mouth. "I’ll try to remember that when Mia pushes me to the edge of my sanity."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The softball tournament was in San Jose, and since Jamie didn’t have any classes scheduled, she waited until traffic was bearable, then went down to Hillsborough to pick up her mother.

Catherine was waiting for her — dressed and ready to go when she opened the front door. "Shall we?" she asked, picking up her purse.

"We’re not in that big of a rush, Mom. Let me go say hello to Marta."

Smiling at her own eagerness, Catherine stepped aside and consigned herself to waiting until her daughter had greeted the cook. I couldn’t be more excited if Ryan were my own child.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They arrived in plenty of time, and caught up with the team right before they went to an empty field to begin to limber up. "Have you grown since this morning?" Jamie murmured into Ryan’s ear when she sidled up behind her.

"Nooooo," she said, turning to give her partner a dazzling grin. "Why, do I look taller?"

Jamie gave her an appraising look, starting at her head, caressing her long body with her eyes until she reached her black cleats. "You look like you’ve got six feet of legs alone," she insisted, dropping her gaze to give the long limbs another look.

"It’s the pinstripes," Ryan said, giving Catherine a smile as she arrived. "Good morning, Catherine," she said. "Have you ever seen so many softball teams in one space in your life?"

"How many are here?" she marveled, giving Ryan a hug in the bargain.

"16. A lot if them are very good, too — Florida State, Nebraska, Iowa State, Ohio State. It should be a good tournament."

"Do you have time for some pictures?" Jamie asked. "I’d like to get you before you’re dirty."

Ryan shot a glance at Marge Hellencamp, one of the assistant coaches, and mouthed, "When do we take the field?"

"Fifteen minutes," she replied, then added a wink when she saw Jamie and Catherine.

"I’ll be back," Ryan said, grabbing a bat with one hand, then grasping Jamie with the other to lead her back behind where the team buses were parked.

"Is this the best we can do?" Jamie asked, as Catherine chuckled.

"This will be fine," Ryan said. "You can shoot towards the berm over there. It’ll be a nice, green backdrop."

"All right, stretch, hold that bat like you know what to do with it, and strike a pose."

"Such an attitude," Ryan said. "Was she always so domineering, Catherine?"

"I’m afraid so," Catherine said. "She’s always been a natural leader."

"Nice spin on it, Mom," Jamie said sweetly as she framed Ryan in the viewfinder. "Most people would say I’m bossy." As she concentrated on her task, Jamie mused, "You’re so darned cute in that outfit. It was made for you."

Catherine cast a long glance at her daughter-in-law, noting the traditional baseball-style white uniform with the crisp blue pinstripes. The pants were very snug, not a wrinkle showing down the long, lean legs. Dark blue stirrups covered plain white sanitary socks, with low-rise, black cleats on her feet. A neat, dark blue mock-turtleneck was covered by the sleeveless jersey, with Ryan rakishly leaving the top two jersey buttons unfastened, letting even more of the dark sweater peek out.

A large, dark blue "9" backed with gold covered Ryan’s broad back, and a similarly colored "Cal" was emblazoned in script across her chest. As the tall woman loosened up by swinging the bat, the Cal grew distorted, then snapped back into place, with each completed motion.

"Okay, I think I’m ready," Ryan announced. "Is my hat straight, Catherine?"

Moving forward to twitch the bright gold cap a half an inch to the left, Catherine said, "That’s a cute hat. I like the little blue bear paw on the back."

"I like it, too," Ryan said. "I’m the only one who wears it, though. Everyone else wears visors."

She said the last word with distaste, causing Jamie’s head to cock in question. "Uhm … how does that make it a uniform? Isn’t uniformity a critical element?"

"No. We have our choice of cap or visor. I guess I should wear the visor, so I look like everyone else, but the bill on the cap is longer. Keeps the sun out of my eyes better."

"Well, I’m always in favor of protecting those baby blues, so I vote for the cap," Jamie said.

"My sentiments exactly," Ryan said, tossing her long braid over her shoulder.

Working quickly, Jamie managed to take an entire roll of film of Ryan, getting her to pose with both bat and glove. As the tall woman ran to take the field with her team, Jamie looked at her mother and said, "Well, my work here is done. Think she’d notice if we took off?"

Catherine knew that it would take an act of God to get her daughter to leave before watching Ryan play, so she merely smiled at her and nodded her head in the direction of a game in progress. "Let’s go watch that one while Cal warms up."

They found spots in the stands and watched for a few minutes, with Catherine’s eyes growing wide as she watched the pitcher for Kent State face a short, slim player from Santa Clara. "How on earth does she make her arm contort in that fashion!" she exclaimed. "That’s not human, Jamie!"

"I don’t understand it myself," Jamie said. "It looks like your arm would pop out of the socket every time."

Since Santa Clara was a local team, the stands were filled with many parents and local fans. The atmosphere was fairly casual, with people standing around chatting with each other and catching up with old acquaintances. Catherine observed two sets of parents decked out in Santa Clara gear sitting on folding chairs next to the stands. The fathers were studies in anxiety, looking like they were playing the game — even though they were sitting down. They twitched and grimaced when a particular play didn’t go their way — and neither had any problem with yelling loudly when disappointed.

The mothers sat between the men, chatting with each other, with hardly one eye on the game. Catherine noticed that each woman paid rapt attention when one of their daughters was at the plate — calling out words of encouragement to the girls — but other than that, they could have been having lunch at an outdoor café.

"Come on, Kelly! Get your head in the game! You know better than to swing at a ball in the dirt!"

Catherine gaped at the man closest to her who had hollered out. The girl in question was not his child, and she was astounded that he had the temerity to chide her. Leaning over to speak to Jamie, Catherine said, "The atmosphere is quite odd, don’t you think?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, it looks like these people are all members of some big club, even though they’re fans of different schools. Why would that be?"

Jamie thought of a conversation she and Ryan had recently had about team sports. "Ryan says that by the time you reach college, most people have been focused on their sport for ten years — kinda like Jordan," she added. "Most of them have very supportive families who get involved; chauffeuring the kid around, raising money for their team. They all belong to a club team, or an AAU team, and are either playing their sport, or preparing themselves to play. It’s very focused for most of them."

"But it wasn’t like that for Ryan, was it?"

"Mmm … in a way it was — for soccer; but even with that, she didn’t do all of the clinics and club teams that most people do. Remember, she went to Ireland for most of the summer, so she wasn’t available to do most of that. Plus, playing three other sports didn’t give her much time."

"I can’t see Martin getting involved like these parents seem to. They look like the outcome of the game is important to them — rather than being happy that their daughter is enjoying herself."

"Oh, Ryan says she’s seen parents try to hit an umpire who makes a bad call," Jamie revealed, shaking her head in puzzlement. "She says that, for some reason, softball is the sport that parents get most involved in — and get the angriest over."

Just then, one of the fathers jumped up from his seat and signaled to the young woman named Kelly, motioning her to the end of the dugout. He appeared to be lecturing her, and Catherine shook her head in amazement. "Some of these people need to find their own hobbies."

"I agree," Jamie said. "Martin and the boys attend the games, as you know, and they care about them, but not like this! Ryan never feels pressure from her family — and I think that’s why she still loves sport so much. It’s just pleasure for her."

"That’s how she plays, too," Catherine said.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Regrettably, Ryan didn’t get to experience pleasure, even though they played two games. The day got cooler as the late afternoon game began, and the equipment manager brought out stadium coats for the players to wear when they were on the bench. "There’s a couple of extras lying there," Jamie joked as her teeth chattered. "Think they’d notice if I went down there and grabbed them?"

"Let’s go inside and have some coffee," Catherine suggested, pointing to the two-story snack bar, located right in the center of the complex. "I think we might be able to see the field from there."

"I’m gone," Jamie said, scampering down the bleachers, seeking warmth.

When they settled at one of the Formica-topped tables, Jamie said, "It must be cold, when Ryan puts on a coat. Oh! Doesn’t she look cute?"

Catherine gazed at the lanky young woman, who now appeared to be at least seven feet tall. The navy blue coat covered her body all the way down to her calves, enhancing the illusion of her endless length. Jamie smiled as the back-up infielder stood next to Ryan at the end of the dugout. Lupe Moreno stood 4 foot 10, and weighed about ninety pounds — with her uniform and coat on. The discrepancy between Ryan’s substantial height and bulk and the diminutive woman was striking, and Jamie thoughtfully pondered what it would be like to be so tall.

"Jamie, look! Ryan’s taking off her coat. I think she might be going into the game."

Pulled from her musings, Jamie watched her partner begin to limber up. Thinking about the line-up, she decided that she was probably set to replace the first baseman, Jackie, who had not had a hit all day. It was the bottom of the seventh, and the score was tied. Cal had a player on second base, and one of their best hitters was up. Jamie was almost disappointed when Julie, the catcher, hit a home run on the next pitch, winning the game for the jubilant Cal players, but prohibiting Ryan from taking a turn at bat.

"I guess I shouldn’t be so selfish — but I want to see my sweetie play!" she groused.

"With as many games as they have scheduled, I think you’ll get your desire soon enough. Now, let’s go congratulate the victors!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

After the game, the girls dropped Catherine off in Hillsborough and headed on to Noe, managing to make it in time for dinner with the extended family. They ate at Martin and Maeve’s, and for a change, both Tommy and Annie were off work, and were able to join them. Over dinner, Annie spoke of the near-constant decision making process that she and Tommy were going through about whether to move to Niall’s. "Here’s the worst part," Annie revealed. "Niall can only guarantee that we can stay there for a year. He’s not planning on charging nearly as much as the mortgage and interest are, since the place isn’t fully finished. But once it’s done, he wants to either move in, or charge market rates. He wants to keep working on it during the entire time, too," she said, her displeasure with that arrangement evident.

"That doesn’t sound like much of a deal," Jamie said.

"No, but it’s so much nicer than what we have," Annie said. "Getting a big place like that for less than we pay now might be worth the trouble."

Martin narrowed his gaze and looked at Conor and Kevin. "Has Niall had tests to see if any of the paint in the house is lead-based?"

Annie and Tommy exchanged looks, and before anyone else spoke Tommy was already shaking his head in dismay, anticipating the answer. "No, he hasn’t," Conor said. "He doesn’t think there’s lead, but he’s afraid of getting bad news, which he would then have to disclose."

Martin turned back to Annie, raised one eyebrow, and gave Caitlin a pointed look.

Annie shrugged and looked at Tommy as she said, "Well, I guess that makes up our mind for us."

"Don’t let it worry you," Martin insisted. "We’ll find a solution if we all put our heads together."

"I don’t know, Martin," Annie said, shaking her head. "The dot com boom has hit Noe with a vengeance. I can’t imagine anyone but high-tech millionaires in the neighborhood eventually."

"Please!" Martin said, lifting his hand. "We’re eating here, love. Wait until my dinner settles before you speak of that blight!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

At the conclusion of the tournament in San Jose on Saturday, the girls decided to stop at Catherine’s for dinner. They left early, and when they got back to Noe, Niall and Conor were watching the Warriors on TV. Jamie and Ryan kept the lads company for a while, and as usual, the men needed a snack by the time the first half was over. Jamie offered to go make popcorn, and a minute after she entered the kitchen, Niall came in to join her. "Hey, Niall," she said. "What’s going on at the house this weekend?"

"Ehh … not much," he said. "Now that Tom and Annie aren’t going to take the place, I feel like I ought to stop working on it."

"You know, I don’t think you need to do half of the stuff you’re doing. Why don’t you stop?"

He cocked his head and asked, "Truth?"

"Please."

"’I can’t see myself living there, Jamie. I mean, if I had a girlfriend who I was serious about …"

"You’re a long way from that, Niall."

"Yeah," he said, looking sheepish. "I won’t get married for years, and I don’t wanna live over there by myself. I’ve got my ma to cook for me, she does my laundry for me, and I’ve got my brothers to entertain me when I’m bored. I don’t know what got into me in the first place." He shook his head glumly and added, "Don’t tell anyone, okay?&qu