Someone to Watch Over Me

by M

mbarduk@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter 1 A late night arrival

The rain wouldn't stop its relentless onslaught. Beating against the windows, as if this would quell its anger. The noise it made awoke the peaceful slumber of Melinda Pappas, wrenching her from her favourite dream. A dream she'd been having a lot lately of a small, robust blonde archaeologist whispering words of love to the tall Southern woman. At first such dreams had frightened the gentile nature of Melinda, who had never been past first base with a man and had certainly never thought she'd be having such explicit dreams about another woman. But lately she had realised that her unconscious mind was only mirroring the thoughts she'd been having whilst awake. They were just a little freer with their imagery than she allowed herself in the daylight.

Tossing the heavy quilt that felt stifling in the humid heat of a full summer storm aside, she opened her eyes as a crack of thunder raged against the sky. A thought of the ancient Zeus crossed her mind, angered upon his throne on Olympus at the plight of mortals below. A loud crashing sound made her jump as her eyes flew open. That didn't sound like the ancient rumble of unrest. CRASH. There it was again. Melinda sat up in bed, suddenly wary of the cause of such a sound. Her faithful German Shepherd could be heard padding into her room, obviously also aroused by the sounds emanating from outside. A low grumble formed from the dog’s mouth and Melinda patted the bed next to her, urging her companion to jump up and keep her company.

'Well Dite, this sure is one helluva storm.'

The dog cocked her head to one side, as if it too knew that Melinda didn't usually use such words in normal conversation. Despite the fear that had struck in her heart at being awoken so callously Melinda smiled at her dog and started running her delicate manicured hand over her soft fur.

'I guess I was dreaming about Janice again.' She'd noticed long ago that the feisty archaeologist was the only one that could invoke her to drop the sometimes restrictive code of being a fine Southern lady and allowed her to be who she truly was. Cursing and laughing a little too raucously was just a way this side of her came out.

CRASH. This time the sound didn't appear as menacing as Melinda had originally thought, able to hear it with a more awake ear she realised that it wasn't so much coming from outside her windows as was emanating from the hallway downstairs. A further bout of it made Mel realise that it was someone banging on the large bronze lion head that served as announcer to visitors to the mansion.

Dite must have figured this out to as she changed positions on the large king size bed and pointed her gaze towards Mel's bedroom door.

'I know Dite, someone’s come a’ knocking. Who could be out so late on a night like this?' Melinda didn't find it odd that she talked to her dog as if it were a human being. Sometimes the gentle yet protective Shepherd was her only company when Melinda's housekeeper Betsy went home at night. She'd become accustomed to carrying on conversations with the dog, and fully expected one day for Dite to turn around and answer her absent enquiries just to shut her up.

The crashing sound echoed again, making the whole mansion shake. Or that could have been the clap of thunder that had so quickly followed it. Realising that whoever it was at the door wasn't going away, and clearly didn't have the etiquette to know that this was hardly the calling hour for visiting, Melinda got up out of bed, put on an aqua blue kimono Janice had sent her from her last trip overseas and marched out of the warmth of her bedroom with Dite following closely at her heels. Whoever it was at her door she was going to give them a piece of her mind, gentle Southern hospitality be damned. It was past three o'clock in the morning and Melinda had been enjoying a rather sensual dream before all this banging had started.

If someone wasn't standing there with a leg falling off heaven help them, the raven haired woman thought as she made her way down the large staircase, another round of crashing coming from the doorway.

‘All right all right hold your horses.’ Mel's accent sounded even more pronounced when she was angry, echoing through the otherwise peaceful hall. A crackling of electric blue lit up the sky as she approached the door that was neighboured by two immense latticed windows and she thought she could see a small figure huddled in the right corner of them that immediately reminded her of Janice. She shook this thought aside, putting it down to the dream she'd just been wrenched from. With Dite guarding her mistress, a snarl ready to leave her if whoever was at the door was not welcome, Melinda found the courage to open up her house to the cold rainy night outside.

At first Melinda couldn't make out the figure stood in the doorway clearly drenched right through. Then another bright crack of lightning lit up the sky and she gasped as she saw Janice Covington huddled over trying to brace herself against the storm.

‘Oh my’ escaped Mel's lips as she immediately opened the door wider and held out her arms instinctively to the shivering archaeologist beckoning her in. Dite all prepared to come to her mistress's aide was clearly confused from her vantage point to see the tall one beckon in the one who had so rudely interrupted her nights sleep. She barked loudly at the figure, nudging her with her nose as if she wasn't about to let her enter. But Mel shushed the Shepherd back with a clear voice.

‘Stop that Dite, it's Janice.’

On hearing the name of someone she recognised Dite stopped her protestations and seemed to take a step back to inspect the visitor herself. It sure looked like the one called Janice but it was hard to tell. Her usually strawberry blonde hair was drenched so dark and plastered to her face, and she wasn't making the usual fuss of the dog that normally Dite had come to expect from the tall one's friend. Still she hung back, a low growl permeating from her throat.

Having gotten Janice safely inside, despite her dog's reaction to her, Mel heaved the heavy door closed behind her and turned to face her friend.

‘Jesus Mel.’ Janice's voice was rough, her teeth chattering from the cold rain she'd gotten caught in. ‘I thought you were never gonna answer the door.’

She stood there looking up at the dazed expression in the exquisite eyes of her friend and despite what she'd been through in the last few days getting here to Mel, Janice allowed herself to smile at finally reaching a place she had come to hold so dear.

‘Well, I don't usually get callers so late at night.’ Melinda said, a little indignantly.

Then she realised how badly Janice was shivering and all thoughts of being disturbed at such a late hour left her as the instinct to take care of the unconventional archaeologist took over.

‘Janice, you're soaked and must be freezing cold. Get out of those clothes at once and take a hot bath. You'll catch your death of cold.’

For a moment Janice was lost in the phrase that had left her friends lips. She'd wanted to hear Mel tell her to undress ever since the clumsy translator had happened into her life a year ago in Macedonia. She stood there, forgetting for a moment that she was chilled to the bone and just gazed up at the taller woman, a wishful smile playing on her lips.

Mel frowned at the look on the archaeologist's face. Now she was seeing her in the pale light of her hallway Janice didn't look at all well. The blonde woman looked like she hadn't slept properly in days, there were dark rings under her usually sparkling green orbs and her face looked a little gaunt as if she'd been missing a few meals as well as sleep. But for a moment Mel saw something else in the face before her, and it swept all thoughts for the archaeologist's welfare straight out of her head. She had a look in her eyes that Mel had only seen in her dreams. But as quickly as this thought touched her it left again when Janice let out an almighty sneeze and another round of thunder crashed through the skies.

Mel was back to being her concerned self, putting the quick glance of desire she thought she'd seen in the eyes of her friend to the back of her mind.

‘See? I wouldn't wonder you don't have the flu already. You look terrible Janice.’

The archaeologist drew her soaked sleeve under her nose as there was nothing else to wipe it on and Mel raised her eyes at such a gesture.

‘Gee thanks Mel, and here's me thinking you'd be pleased to see me.’

‘Well of course I'm pleased to see you.’ Mel was hurt by Janice's words and cast her gaze away to the storm outside lest she look into the archaeologist's eyes and betray too much.

The smaller woman cringed slightly, knowing she'd hurt the sensitive Southerner with her offhand remark. She almost reached out to placate the look in the azure eyes with a slow caress of her cheek but catching herself just in time, the archaeologist managed to rein in the emotions she'd been battling over the past week, and ones that had been around for longer than that.

Just cool it Covington.

‘Good, I knew you would be.’ Janice looked up at her friend, the cheeky grin Mel had grown to adore on the smaller woman emerged and lifted some of the cloud that had fallen around Mel's heart. She rolled her eyes at the smaller woman and couldn't help her own grin from coming to the surface.

‘Now didn't you say something about a hot bath Miss Pappas?’

‘I most certainly did Dr Covington. Although baths at…’ Mel looked at her watch and was startled by the late hour ‘…3:30 in the morning are highly unconventional in the South.’ She raised her eyebrow in challenge at the archaeologist, who as always rose to the occasion.

‘Then its just as well I am both unconventional and still on Eastern Standard time then isn't it?’

Mel chuckled at her friend, trying to put the odd arrival and condition of the archaeologist out of her thoughts for the time being.

Glad for the lightened mood between them, Janice threw Mel another one of those cheeky grins and picked up her duffel bag that was also wet through and waited for Mel to lead the way upstairs.

Mel nodded, taking her lead from Janice and headed for the stairs. She walked quickly just ahead of the archaeologist, looking back every now and then to make sure she was okay, that the smile that had been missing when she first dragged the soggy figure in from the rain was still in place now. She saw that it was and her own smile grew larger.

As she led her drenched friend upstairs the Southerner's thoughts drifted to the look she'd seen fleetingly in the archaeologist's eyes when she'd told her to get out of her wet clothes. Mel hoped she hadn't imagined the hint of desire in those brilliant greens, that it wasn't just a remnant of the dream she'd been having that hadn't quite left her mind yet.

Her dark brows furrowed when she realised if it hadn't been for Janice's untimely sneeze Mel was quite prepared to lean in to steal a kiss from the small, shivering woman. In the brief moment of their intimate gaze the Southern woman had seen a reflection of her love gaze back at her. Had been ready to fling her arms around the smaller one and hold her in a strong embrace, smoothing away whatever it was that made her look so sad, whatever it was that had driven her hundreds of miles to get to Mel. Her mind began to race with other things that the usually shy, reserved Southerner had been ready to do with a soaking wet archaeologist and Mel had to fight hard to keep them restrained.

Just cool it Melinda.

A sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts calmed themselves and moved onto a more a daunting path.

I think I preferred the racier thoughts, Mel considered. Her eyebrows creasing again as worry entered her heart.

As they ascended the ornate staircase to the mansion's second floor where a guest room was always made up for visitors, Melinda's thoughts strayed to how tired and unwell Janice had looked as she first opened her to door to her. Not to mention that deep pool of sadness that was hidden in green eyes but still the Southerner saw the pain. And she wondered what had been the cause of such hurt.

What could have upset the infallible archaeologist?

Melinda reasoned unhappily that it had to be something pretty important for Janice to not only come here without warning but for the usually closed off woman to let her emotions show so clearly on her face. And this worried the Southerner more than the unexpected desire she had experienced moments before.

Dite's thoughts must have been on a similar track to her mistress's, concern of the canine variety for the unexpected arrival of the blonde one matching the very human emotions of Mel.

The German Shepherd followed behind the archaeologist, her head cocked to one side looking quizzically up at the wet figure. Janice felt the inaudible curiosity coming from both mistress and dog but didn't have any answers for either of them. At least not ones she was prepared to say just yet. She hoped that Mel would wait till she was feeling a little more herself before giving in to her innate caring nature and ask the questions Janice right now dreaded hearing. The archaeologist needed to feel in more control of the pain and thoughts that had driven her to find her Southern friend above anything else. Feelings that had driven her through miles and miles of the unknown to get to a place that warmed her soul the way being with Melinda always did.

Not stopping for food when she felt pangs of hunger gnaw at her insides; not resting for more than a few hours a day as she hopped from freight train to passing truck, back to train. It would have been much quicker and easier to come direct the archaeologist had reasoned, and she probably would have followed that line of thought if it hadn't been for the price of the train ticket not matching what she had managed to grab from her apartment before she had decided to flee to Mel's side.

And now she was finally at Mel's side. She'd made it when her body almost defied her and told her she wouldn't. She'd remained strong enough to get this far without giving in to the turmoil she was in. Yet if Mel decided to ask her now why she had come, Janice wasn't sure she could keep inside the pain of the last week, and if she let that out now she knew it'd be closely followed by a confession of her love for the woman that was leading her upstairs. And risking the friendship that had built up between them over the months they'd been working together on their find from Macedonia wasn't something Janice was prepared to do.

She sighed at this last thought. So tired and hungry, but also feeling dejected that the woman before her can never be more than a friend. She walked the last few steps to the guest room with a heavy heart, her head hanging down, and tears prickling at her eyes. She fought to keep them at bay, at least until Mel had left her alone and she could let out her heartache at the past weeks events which so far she'd been able to mute whilst she reached the Pappas Mansion.

Mel looked back at Janice. Her demeanour changed again from the woman Mel was accustomed to and this defeated figure that now graced her eyes. She wanted to ask her what was wrong, why she was here but something stopped her. Maybe it was knowing how little Janice liked talking about herself, and more importantly her feelings. Not that they had ever ventured very far in that arena during the days, sometimes weeks they had spent working together, but Mel knew enough to know that Janice wasn't one of life's sharers. And sometimes it was all she could do to get a hello out of the archaeologist when she appeared to be in one of her moods, as Mel liked to put it. Now though Mel wasn't sure if the reason she didn't ask after the forlorn look on her friends face was because whatever the answer might be it was something Mel feared hearing. If Janice were in some sort of trouble of course she'd want to help, but what if that meant Janice being taken away from her?

It had begun to grow painful every time she had to say good-bye to her at the station after one of her working trips down South to the University of South Carolina had come to an end. Had started to feel overwhelming how much she longed to be in the smaller woman's presence that she'd increased her annual shopping spree in New York to going three times so she'd have the chance to spend some days with a woman Mel was beginning to realise she was in love with.

Despite practically itching from the curiosity of wanting to know why she'd arrived so late at night and in such a state Melinda didn't think she had the courage to find out why just yet.

They reached the guest room and Janice allowed Mel to open the door for her, the smaller woman entering first. It was a room Janice had grown to love as she always stayed within its warm protective walls whenever she was on a trip down South. The queensize bed stood majestic in the centre of the room. Its four posters with drapes of pale linen fitting in so well with the tapestries that hung on the walls. Melinda had told her that she'd decorated it herself once her father had died. He was never a big one for change she had said, so as part of the grieving process Mel had methodically stripped it of the over masculine tastes, taken down the oils that had depicted hunt scenes and far flung ancient battles on distant shores. In their place Melinda had hung the Oriental rugs she'd acquired through a dealer friend of hers before the war in Europe began, and found the rich, intricate tapestry depicting Athena in all her glory that now stood facing the bed on the far wall. It had always made Janice feel like she belonged here in the Pappas Mansion, and knowing only two doors down lay her beloved blissfully sleeping, unaware of what she engendered in the archaeologist's heart had made it all the more welcoming.

Right now though Janice was just glad to see a bed she could sleep in for the first time in three days, and off to her right the door that led to the en-suite bathroom which she knew contained a bath that would strip away all the anxiety she had begun to feel in her heavy shoulders.

She flung her bag on to the bed then realised it would wet the fresh sheets that seemed so inviting and quickly retrieved it. Mel stood in the doorway, watching the tired expression of her friend lessen as she started to give way to the secure feeling being in this room gave her. Janice looked back over her shoulder and smiled at her friend.

‘Thank you Mel. I'm sorry for waking you the way I did.’ Her voice was so sincere, yet hinted with an edge of regret that it made the translator's heart break to hear it.

‘You don't have to apologise to me Janice. The storm woke me up anyway. I just hope you will be okay.’ It was the closest Mel could get to enquiring after why her friend was here, and both women recognised it for what it was.

Janice sighed, wishing that she could placate the concerned look in the azure eyes that weren't hidden behind glasses for once. But knowing that she wasn't ready to make that confession just yet.

‘I'm sure after a hot bath and a good nights sleep I'll be fine.’ Was all the archaeologist let herself say, and she began to unbutton the jacket that was plastered wet to her body.

Mel looked away as the jacket was heaved off and Janice started in on the white shirt that was soaked through so much you could see glimpses of naked flesh underneath. She knew she should leave but the concern for her friend and the desire that had been sparked in the dream she'd been having only half an hour before prevented Mel's legs from obeying her command and she stood rigid in the doorway. Janice felt the eyes of her friend on her and she stopped at the third button of her shirt and looked up to the door.

‘Are you going to just stand there all night?’ Janice asked, the softer lilt returned to her voice. It made the translator blush and she quickly tried to hide her expression, which piqued a flutter of interest in Janice's heart that under normal circumstances would have been very much restrained.

‘I...sorry, I was just wondering...’ she looked back to her friend, hoping the desire she was feeling hadn't invaded her eyes so the archaeologist would not notice it.

‘Yes?’ Janice smiled, waiting for her friend to explain her behaviour.

‘Would you like me to run your bath for you?’

It wasn't what she was going to say, it wasn't what she was feeling standing in her guest bedroom with the woman who had captured her heart only a few steps away, her shirt laying tantalisingly open at her cleavage. But her initial feeling of wanting to envelope the small woman in her arms and never let go was quickly silenced by her shy, innocent nature and she watched a flicker of what she could have sworn was hope die from the green eyes before her.

Janice shook her head, turning her back to Mel so she too could hide her desire from her.

‘You don't have to do that Mel.’ Her voice sounded tired again and Mel couldn't escape the feeling that she'd done something wrong.

‘I want to.’

Finally Mel felt like she had a purpose to be hanging around Janice's room, that was how she thought of this particular guest room. She never put anyone else up in here when she had visitors that stayed the night. It didn't seem right to her that anyone but Janice and herself should share this room. She'd never told her friend this, but after she'd leave the mansion to go back to New York, Mel would tell Betsy to leave the sheets on the bed one more night and she would creep under the covers that were laced with Janice's scent, breathing her in. And now she could smell that same scent in the air Mel just wasn't prepared to leave just yet.

She walked into the bathroom and switched on the taps, testing the water to see if it was still running hot at this late hour. It was. Fortunately her father had seen the sense in modernising the mansion and had the money to do it so constant heat graced all of the rooms when it was needed, and like tonight unexpected guests could enjoy a soak in steaming hot water.

In the bedroom Janice continued to undress, letting thoughts of the look in Mel's eyes to wander freely through her tired mind. She let herself imagine that what she felt for the statuesque Southerner was mirrored by her, that it wasn't the hopeless love that the archaeologist thought it to be. But reasoning that Melinda's upbringing and nature couldn't even comprehend that you could love your own sex Janice was brought swiftly from her reverie. She let her khaki trousers that stuck to her legs a little fall to the ground, and then kicked them off with such vehemence they went flying across the room and knocked a vase off the ornate table that stood below the window. It crashed with a gentle sound against the surface of the wall, telling the keen archaeologist that it had probably been from the Ming dynasty. Her heart leapt up into her mouth as she raced over to the broken pieces, cursing loudly. Mel was soon in from the bathroom to see what had happened.

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ She heard Janice swear as she went over to where her friend was crouched on the floor.

‘What happened?’

Mel looked at the blonde woman then wished she hadn't when she realised she was only dressed in her underwear, which was so soaked through it left nothing to Melinda's imagination. Her eyes traveled over the muscled contours of Janice's arms and shoulders, taking in the sight before her as if the beauty of Helen of Troy had just graced her. Her mouth grew dry and it suddenly didn't matter what ever it was Janice was trying to clear up smashed on the floor, for Melinda was seeing a sight that she'd only imagined in her dreams, and if that was all her relationship with Janice would ever be - a dream - then at least she'd gotten to see the real thing for just a minute.

‘Shit Mel, I'm so sorry.’ Janice's voice quivered slightly, she was close to tears again and her mind raged at her for doing something so stupid in the first place.

‘Hey its okay Janice.’ Melinda tried to reach for her friend but she pulled a way.

‘No Mel it’s not okay.’ Janice stood up, she could feel the anger and pain of the last week fight within her to break free and she wasn't sure if she could keep it in if she felt Melinda's warm hand on her cooling flesh.

Melinda's gaze followed Janice as she stomped around the room, she could see her trying to regain her composure. It was a technique she'd seen her use before when some ignorant academic at the University undermined their work on the precious Xena Scrolls. But she never thought Janice would need to use it in her presence.

The archaeologist raked her hands through her hair, pulling painfully hard on the wet blonde strands then held it tightly back, creasing her forehead. Melinda hated to see Janice like this but she didn't understand why she was doing it to herself.

‘Look Janice, I never liked the vase anyway. And there are so many antiques in this place I sometimes feel like I live in a museum so I'm not going to miss a little one like this.’ To show she meant it Mel discarded the shards of pottery she'd been clearing up and then wiped her hands together, as if to say, there that settles that. But the lighter tone of voice she used to try and pull Janice out of her mood only helped fuel the emotions within the smaller woman, and she knew that the anger and tears and words she was fighting would boil over soon into the room between them.

A silence drifted between the two women. Hampered only by the storm that seemed to be receding outside, and Janice's fight for control over the storm that was raging within her. Her breath was ragged, and she wanted to scream out the anger she felt at herself. She dropped her hands and let her hair fall naturally back into place. She needed some distance between her and Melinda before she did something or said something she'd later regret.

With a controlled voice she spoke without looking over to her friend.

‘Is the bath ready?’

Taken aback a little by the change to Janice's voice and posture Mel didn't know what to do. She ached to hold the archaeologist in her arms and smooth away what ever it was that was making her act this way, but knew that if she attempted to offer her any comfort the smaller woman would be more likely to run from her embrace than welcome it. Melinda sighed at the paradox that was her friend’s strange behaviour and could only nod her answer.

When Janice didn't hear an answer from Mel she stole herself to look in the translator's direction and saw her head hung, her ebony hair reflecting the glow from the lamp she was stood beside. She looked so beautiful standing there in the robe Janice had brought for her on a whim from the last trip she could make overseas before the war had impeded her expeditions.

She'd seen it in a market not far from where the old Chin dynasty had once ruled, thousands of years ago. The aqua blue garment intricately woven with tiny green Chinese dragons, symbolising a power long gone, had immediately invoked in Janice a sense of recognition that had seemed supernatural to her at the time.

She was not only drawn to the beauty of the robe but she somehow knew that it belonged to Melinda in some way. And it wasn't just the fact Janice knew that it would suit her tall frame and contrast to her pale skin and dark hair beautifully. Like so many moments over the past year, Janice had been reminded of their first meeting on the dig sight in Macedonia, and the overwhelming feeling of belonging to this woman that had erupted in her soul then, surfaced in her for no reason the archaeologist could explain. She bought the robe and sent it to her straight away, knowing that Melinda should have it as soon as possible and not wait for the uncertain time when Janice would next be able to get down to South Carolina.

As she looked at Mel's dejected posture that was a mirror of her own, Janice realised this was the first time she had seen her wearing the robe. She'd been too tired and cold before to notice it, but now in the silence of the room, when it was obvious something bigger than the two of them was passing between the women, Janice allowed herself to feel that sense of recognition again, that sense of belonging to this woman washed over her and for the first time since seeing Mel that night, she allowed herself to relax in her friend's presence.

Her anger slowly dissipated and a different emotion filled up her heart. She could feel the love that she'd always felt for her friend take over the dark places of her heart that had been filled with anger and fear moments ago. She let the feeling take away all the pain and exhaustion she felt. In their place Janice found the courage to say what she didn't think she'd give up under the strictest torture.

‘You look beautiful in that robe Mel.’

The translator's eyes shot up to see Janice gazing at her, with a look she'd never seen on the oval features of her friend. But somehow she recognised the expression. As if she'd seen it long ago and couldn't quite remember where, but she knew in her heart that the look that she hoped was love in the archaeologist's face was something that she was supposed to see in the woman that held her heart.

As if they were soulmates, destined to find each other over and over again.

‘Thank you.’

Mel didn't know what else to say. Here she was dressed in a nightgown and robe and Janice was across from her in just her underwear, and the only thing Mel could think of to say or do was utter a simple thank you. It felt so inadequate and not what she wanted to express at all, but nevertheless the archaeologist's compliment coupled with the longing gaze she saw in her eyes was enough to silence the usually talkative translator.

Silence dropped around the room again. Both women were looking at each other. In Mel's eyes was a question Janice didn't know she could allow herself to answer.

She had said what was in her heart and her friend hadn't shied away from her but could the usually fearless archaeologist take it a step further and confess how she truly felt for her friend? Could she tell her what it made her feel like to see her dressed in the robe she had bought for her? How she felt knowing that Melinda would be there to take care of her? Wasn't that the reason she had fled here in the first place? Did she have the courage to tell the beautiful, ivory skinned woman that she was in love with her?

Janice caught the questioning look in Mel's eyes again and had to look away. Now her heart was beating as fast as it had been when her anger had consumed her, but she recognised this time that the cause of such palpitations was not anger but a more powerful emotion. One she'd battled with over the past year to keep inside her. An emotion that would no longer be silenced by Janice's misplaced thoughts that Melinda could never feel the same way about her.

‘The water is getting cold.’

The eerie silence of the room had grown too much for Melinda and she had to break it somehow. It seemed to snap her friend from whatever silent battle she was having with herself and the creases that had unconsciously formed on her brow straightened out as she looked over to the tall dark woman standing by the window.

‘What?’ Janice didn't know for a minute what Melinda was talking about, her thoughts off on a much higher plane of understanding.

Mel nodded towards the bathroom as she replied. ‘Your bath. If you want it hot, you'd better go now.’

Janice looked between the bathroom door and Mel, wondering which ache was greater. The need to let herself be soothed by the water's gentle embrace or to see if the gentle embrace of the tall Southern woman could soothe her.

It was a question she wouldn't have dared contemplate a week ago, or even a few minutes. But the archaeologist suddenly felt confident that the glances, the touches that had lingered moments after they should have dissolved and the deepening gaze between the two women now meant one thing - Melinda Pappas felt something for her. Whether that something was what Janice hoped it would be - love - was a question the smaller woman finally felt ready to ask.

She broke the azure gaze to take in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second as a wave of adrenaline and fear rushed through her, when she realised that she was about to open up her heart to the tall woman in the corner. She let out the breath and returned her gaze to the window....and the smile that had reached the corners of her eyes quickly faded, as she found no trace of the woman who had caused it.

Janice quickly scanned the room and saw Mel's retreating form, her hand closing the door as she left.

‘I'll leave you to your bath then.’ It was a barely audible mutter and Janice only just caught the defeated look in those azure pools before Mel was gone from sight, and she was left alone in the room.

‘Goddamnit,’ Janice addressed the empty room. ‘I was so close.’

**********

Mel steadied herself on the banister, wondering if she was going to do that stereotypical Southern lady trick of fainting dead away because there wasn't any other way of battling her emotions. Dite plodded over to her mistress's side and nudged her with her nose to see if she was okay. The contact broke the queasy feeling and Mel straightened up to her full height, reining in the confusing feelings that had erupted within her when she felt the glimmer of hope that Janice felt something for her back in the guest room. Why else would the usually stoic archaeologist look at her that way?

Her dark eyebrows furrowed as she realised that when words were needed the most, they'd failed her. She had never been one to run away from things, often confronting situations that weren't becoming for a young Southern lady to get involved in because it was something she believed in. Like trekking half way around the world to help on an archaeology dig for example. And above all Melinda believed in her feelings for the archaeologist she had met on that dig, even if she didn't quite believe the archaeologist felt the same. So why had she fled when those feelings were at their strongest?

She heaved a deep sigh and looked back at the closed door then down to her faithful friend. She thought Dite sympathised because her black canine eyes looked as sad as she felt.

‘Good move huh Dite?’

Mel led the dog away, as she decided that waiting around outside Janice's room would do her no good in figuring out what had happened between the two of them in such a short time that night. She headed back to her own room down the hall, letting tears of frustration gently flow from her eyes. Dite, always alert when she could sense her mistress's distress, looked back at the door they had come from just as Melinda had done and sighed along with the tall woman.

She didn't understand it either.

 

Chapter 2 Things look better in the morning

The smell of fresh coffee and bacon frying roused the archaeologist from what had been, she considered, the best sleep she'd had in years. She stretched her small limbs out in the soft bed she was in, a contented smile finally emerging for the first time in days. She opened her eyes and squinted against the bright sunlight that broke through the gap in the thick velvet curtains at the window.

Waking up had always been an easy thing for the determined archaeologist. Not wanting to waste a minute of the day when there were things to be done. In her childhood days she'd infuriated her father on their many jaunts around Europe looking for ancient resting places, that she was always up at the crack of dawn, rustling around their tent looking for things to do.

Harry Covington liked his lie-ins, even on a workday.

But the young Janice, who bounded with the same energy she'd carried through into adulthood, was never happy lounging around in bed, letting her body slowly wake to a new day. No, she was up and dressed the minute her eyes were open. And Harry wouldn't be able to stay in bed for long when his impatient child purposefully made as much noise as she could waiting for her father to rise.

Janice shifted in the bed, suddenly reminded of a time when things had been simple between her and her father and realised for the first time she could remember she was quite happy to lay there in the quiet of the morning. Letting nature's glow slowly wash over her from the window, not anxious to break her partnership with the peaceful slumber she'd been in just yet.

Of course there were mornings when she wouldn't rush out of bed. Mornings that had led to afternoons then evenings of never leaving the confines of sheets, warmth and a sensuous touch. But those kind of lie-ins had been few and far between for a long time now, almost as long as that fateful dig in Greece and Janice hadn't let herself enjoy the serenity of staying in bed on her own for...well never.

For a few moments she enjoyed the stillness. Even the taunting smell of coffee wafting up from the kitchen accompanied with salty bacon couldn't stir the ravenous blonde woman from her resting place. But as she turned again, in what she thought must be the most comfortable bed she'd ever slept in, to gaze at the morning sun through the gap of the curtains something bright and shiny just below the window caught her eye and she quickly shot up in bed.

‘Ah fuck’ Janice exhaled wearily. Remembering with clarity the vase she'd broken and the look of defeat in the Southerner's eyes as she had left her room the night before.

It was enough of an uncomfortable feeling to get Janice moving again, all thoughts of remaining in bed forgotten as she realised that she probably had some explaining to do to her Southern friend.

With a weary energy, her body still clinging to the lethargy of sleep, Janice looked around her room for her bag and some probably dampened clothes she'd have to wear as she hadn't had enough sense last night to put any out to dry. She was puzzled to find no trace of her well traveled duffel bag, or even the clothes she'd had to wear for three days in her trek across the country. Someone had obviously come whilst she was asleep and rescued the wet items to hang in the morning sunshine.

‘Mel’ Janice sighed the name that always brought a smile to her lips. Knowing that it was just in the translator's nature to think of a thing like that. Her smile grew even wider when she noticed the dark robe that hung over a chair in the opposite side of the room.

‘Mel’ she sighed the name again. ‘You really do think of everything.’

Such a kind gesture, performed with the utmost of care so the Southerner wouldn't wake the exhausted archaeologist lessened the foreboding feelings that were coursing through Janice's heart. She eased the robe on to her still stiff body and was immediately comforted by the scent that was hinted in the collar as she straightened the clothing out.

It smelled of Melinda, the small woman considered, it must be an old one of hers.

Looking down at herself this thought was affirmed as its length buried her small frame and the cuffs hung slightly off her arms. Janice chuckled at herself, feeling like a child playing dress up in her mother's wardrobe, and reasoned that things might not to be too bad between her and Mel that morning if her token of this robe was anything to go by.

She held onto that thought as her stomach rumbled and she knew that, if for no other reason than to appease the hunger that struck inside her with powerful force, she had to go down to the kitchen and face the mistress of the house.

 

***********

The tall Southern woman was busying herself between the stove and pouring two steaming hot cups of coffee. Keeping her eye on the crisp streaks of bacon as they sizzled in the pan, hoping they wouldn't burn to nothingness whilst she waited for her unexpected guest to finally emerge.

Mel had already had her breakfast, her usual oats and tea served by Betsy much earlier on in the morning. She had expected Janice to join her then and had told Betsy to be prepared to cook a hearty meal, for the archaeologist sure looked in need of one. Her elderly housekeeper, loyal to the Pappas family for two generations ever since she had started with Mel's father and young bride when she was nothing more than a slip of a girl, had beamed when she'd been told the New Yorker had come to stay a spell.

Janice always ate so well when she had stayed in the past, giving Betsy reason to cook all her favourite recipes, filled with creamed potatoes, red meat and good old fashioned cooking fat, things Mel would usually decline in reverence to her figure. Betsy scolded her that she would never be a svelte woman, after all, all the Pappas women had been tall and elegantly shaped, but Melinda would still defer to eat light vegetables and salads. Having the rough-around-the-edges archaeologist around not only filled the mansion with a laughter that had been missing since Mel's father had passed on, Betsy concluded, but also she got to cook proper food for once.

Her disappointment was obvious when the hour passed breakfast time and there was no sign of Janice. She wanted to wait and cook her grits and bacon the way she does for her own strong willed grand-daughter who comes back to visit her too infrequently, but there were other chores that needed doing.

Mel had smiled at the woman as she bemoaned the fact that Janice couldn't make it out of bed at a reasonable hour, knowing she wasn't really annoyed at her for the two of them had struck up quite an odd friendship on Janice's visits. The much younger woman able to charm her old fashioned housekeeper with slightly exaggerated tales of her treks across Europe. Melinda also wondered if another reason Betsy had taken so warmly to the unconventional archaeologist was because Betsy somehow knew how Mel felt for her, and it lifted the old woman's heart to see her ‘precious Mel’ as she's always called her, so happy again.

Now alone in the kitchen Mel let herself remember the glances that had passed between her and her blonde friend the previous night. She grimaced as she recalled fleeing Janice's room when it looked like the archaeologist was close to saying something to her.

Why had she run?

It was a thought that had haunted her the remainder of the night, robbing her of sleep. She'd tossed and turned until the early hours of dawn, watching the sky change from wet blackness into a crimson tide, the storm clouds finally receding as night gave way to day. She'd finally drifted into a crowded sleep, her dreams carrying on with what her conscious mind had been debating. As ever her dreamscape self had the confidence to do what her waking self couldn't - take the archaeologist to her in a passionate exchange and speak words of love.

Instead of fleeing the scene between her and Janice, Melinda's dream played out a different scenario altogether. One, which involved tangled limbs, sweaty flesh and her sweet Janice whispering the words the Southern woman longed to hear. But no sooner had this dream come upon her it faded into the reality of what really happened between them, and distorted it so it wasn't Mel running away at all but the forceful archaeologist.

Thankfully this dream didn't last long. It was painful to go through and Mel's unconscious mind fought hard to break free from it and come to the surface of sleep. Just when it seemed that she was slipping back down to experience Janice's rejection all over again, Mel felt her body being jostled awake, or rather nudged incessantly. She forced her eyes open, and realised that the tears she had felt fall in her dream had spilled over into her reality. Then she saw her concerned four-legged friend pulling on the covers and nudging them back with her nose, clearly trying to get the Southern woman awake.

Mel had never been more thankful for her furry companion as she was in that moment. She sat up in bed and flung her arms around Dite's neck, holding on as tight as she could without making the dog squirm away from her.

‘Thank you Aphrodite’ she whispered, choking back her tears and using the dog's full name for once because she was suddenly overwhelmed that her canine friend had come to her rescue.

And now that very same canine was eyeing the bacon Melinda was transferring to a plate with hungry eyes and a dripping jaw. Perhaps she thought it was only fair she should get some sort of reward for her good deed and was waiting less than patiently for the crispy morsels to be extended out to her.

The Southern woman arched her eyebrow at her dog, which seemed to be the only thing that could get Melinda's mind away from painful thoughts at the moment.

‘Oh no you don't dear.’ She scolded as she gently pushed the Shepherd away with her knee.

‘Whereas I am grateful you keep cheering me up, this is for Janice.’

Dite whined at her, and it was almost as if she raised her own doggy eyebrows in a disapproving glare mimicking her owner.

‘And don't look at me like that. Guests come first in this house, and you know that.’

A soft chuckle from the doorway startled both canine and human.

‘Well I'm glad to hear it.’

It was Janice, leaning against the doorframe in Mel's old robe, a mischievous glint to her green orbs and a serene smile on her lips that lifted the dark veil Mel's thoughts had drawn in around her heart.

A suddenly flustered Mel stopped what she was doing in mid-movement and Dite got her reward after all, as a piece of bacon slipped off the fork into her waiting mouth.

‘Oh hell.’ Melinda cursed, a rare thing for her and it didn't go un-noticed by the woman in the doorway.

Green eyes became furrowed, not accustomed to seeing the polite Southern woman lose her composure quite so quickly nor say what she did. She could see a blush rise to Mel's perfectly etched cheekbones and the situation between them was in danger of becoming tense even before Janice had sat down, if the quick witted archaeologist didn't do something soon.

‘Do you want me to get down on all fours and beg for breakfast too?’

Janice hoped it was the right thing to say as she walked to the kitchen table and stood facing Melinda. It was sometimes so difficult to joke with the Southern woman. Fortunately Mel saw the smile in Janice's eyes that had accompanied her words and the blush that had risen so quickly at her out of character statement disappeared, to be replaced by a warm smile.

‘Well only if you want to.’ Mel raised her left eyebrow, an expression that unbeknownst to the tall woman made Janice's knees go weak when ever she saw it.

Janice laughed loudly and shook her head at the seemingly more relaxed Melinda before her. She'd never have thought the translator would swear, let alone turn the situation into a joke. But like Janice's odd arrival and tenseness had made Mel reconsider what she knew of her friend, suddenly Janice was realising that there was more to Melinda Pappas than she first thought. And this more carefree side of her was a welcome surprise to the small woman.

‘Why don't I just sit at the table and feed myself? Wouldn't want Dite feeling threatened now would we?’

Janice reached over to the coffee cups that were already sat on the big oak table and raised one to her lips, savouring the aroma of fresh ground coffee, a thing she'd had to forego the last three days. She heard the Southerner gently chuckle then go back to the breakfast she'd been preparing, Janice let out a sigh of relief that the edge of tension that wanted to invade between them had left for now.

*********

The now sated archaeologist pushed the plate before her away, having had it filled with not seconds but thirds and was almost pondering a fourth helping until Melinda had pointed out they were out of bacon. But there were plenty of eggs she'd assured the hungry woman, all set to fry up some more food as it gladdened her heart to see Janice looking healthier than she had when she first arrived.

Janice had declined, and now she eased herself back in her chair and sipped the last of her coffee.

Melinda sat with her throughout her late breakfast. Eyeing carefully every bite, wanting to know it met with the archaeologist's ferocious appetite. It had. She hadn't eaten so well, Janice considered as she licked the salt from her lips, since the last time she had visited the Pappas Mansion, and then it was Betsy's delicious home cooking that had caused the full, contented feeling inside the small woman now.

Janice looked across at her friend and smiled.

‘That was delicious Mel, you can really cook do you know that?’

It wasn't a skill she'd expect the tall Southern lady to possess, knowing that her family had always kept servants for the domestic chores. But just as she thinks she has figured her friend out Mel comes up with another new side of her and Janice finds out that the love that is ever growing in her heart gets something new to grasp onto and adore.

Clear blue eyes beamed at the compliment, so rare in coming from the normally closed off archaeologist and let out a gentle chuckle.

‘Well don't tell Betsy that. She might just up and leave and then who would I have to talk to?’

Mel began clearing the plates and cups off the table and missed the concerned look that had invaded green eyes at her remark.

‘Are you that lonely Mel?’ Janice's voice was weak, only half saying what she thought aloud.

So far that morning the conversation between them had been relaxed and the blonde woman didn't want to do anything to jeapordise that but on hearing Mel's words, even though she knew them to be in jest, Janice wondered if the usually effervescent tall woman actually hid things from her, like she did in return.

Mel stopped by the sink and looked around. The concern showing in the eyes of her friend was un-mistakable and she regretted her joke for she hadn't wanted to make Janice worry.

I suppose now though is a good a time as any to start this conversation, Southern thought reasoned.

‘I do get lonely Janice.’ She moved back to the table and decided to sit in the chair next to Janice, the closeness unsettling the archaeologist a little.

‘I get lonely after you leave for New York.’

Janice blinked at her, unaware a blush was forming on her cheeks as she felt like she'd been ambushed suddenly. She didn't know what to say and the translator took this as a sign to continue. Ready to say now what she had been unable to declare in Janice's room last night.

Blue eyes tried to look into the green of the woman next to her but Janice's gaze was focused intently on a rather interesting groove in the table before her and Mel had to plough on blind, so she thought.

‘Janice I have something I want to tell you.’

The Southern woman took in a deep breath. Her body mirroring what Janice's had gone through when she was willing to tell her of her heart's desire. When she searched again for the green eyes she saw in her dreams night after night she found them gazing back at her, a glimmer of hope in them.

‘I.....’ Mel began and was rudely interrupted by the sharp ringing of the hall telephone.

Both sets of eyes broke their hold on each other and glanced simultaneously in the direction of the dismembered intrusion.

Mel would have to answer it, Janice reasoned. It was not her way to let a phone ring off the hook.

Damnit, she thought as true to form Mel rose quickly from Janice's side and walked with a purposeful step to the hall. Leaving the archaeologist behind to dream what it was Mel had wanted to say.

As she approached the telephone, a useless invention if ever there was one, the Southern woman cursed for the second time that day.

‘Goddamnit, I was so close.’

*********

‘Pappas residence’ a cultivated polite voice answered in the hall.

Janice sighed at the sound and looked dejectedly at the empty seat next to her.

What was she going to say? The archaeologist's thoughts interjected, despair rising as she felt emotions inside her well close to the surface again and didn't know how to combat them.

‘I suppose it’s too early in the day to get a shot of bourbon’, Janice sighed to herself and cast a glance to the kitchen door. Not able to see the tall Southern woman who had been in the forefront of her mind always over the past year, but hearing clearly one side of the conversation that was going on.

‘No I hadn't forgotten Regina...’

Green eyes registered the name and a small smile surfaced on her lips as she recalled one of the only friends Melinda had introduced her to that she actually liked.

Reggie, as Janice had taken to calling her was a woman who resembled Melinda in a way, as she too was broad and stood at nearly Mel's height. She had a head full fiery red willful curls and deep brown eyes that had caused many a suitor embarrassment by what they seemed to suggest. They sure breed them big and beautiful down South, Janice had thought when Mel had taken her to a cocktail party thrown by her oldest fellow finishing school girlfriend the second time she had visited the Southerner.

 

Janice had been angry when Mel accepted the invitation on her behalf. If there was anything she hated more than socialising with strangers, was someone speaking for her. Her anger didn’t go unnoticed as she stomped around their study in the warm heat of a Southern summer afternoon.

‘Well you’ll just have to tell her I can’t make it then won’t you?’ Janice wasn’t going to back down on this one and reached for one of her cigars from the desk she had commandeered as her own since she started making trips to the Pappas mansion.

‘I will do no such thing. It’s impolite.’ Tall Southern pride could be as equally stubborn it seemed, as for the umpteenth time that afternoon they argued about this evening’s cocktail party.

Green eyes blazed at the assured defiance of the azure one.

Melinda was sat at a matching oak desk by the window, her work arranged methodically before her unlike the haphazard approach Janice favoured. The natural light that fell through the big, latticed window helped the near sighted translator to read the passages of ancient Greek, where as it seemed Janice was perfectly content to hunch over her work under the desk lamp in the far corner of the room. Despite Melinda’s entreaties to get Janice to move her desk by hers, to make it easier on the carpet if nothing else when one of them had something they needed to show the other, Janice had remained in that far corner with the bad light. What the Southerner didn’t know was why Janice had chosen to sit as far away from her as she could, and why now the stubborn archaeologist was remaining firmly in her corner of the room during their argument.

Janice was finding it increasingly frustrating being close to the raven-haired Southern beauty that had no idea what affect she was beginning to have on the archaeologist’s heart, and other parts of her anatomy. The smell of the light perfume Melinda always wore, the way her dark hair could shine almost blue if the light caught it from the right angle, her habit of chewing on the end of a pencil when she was stuck on some syntax. They were small things, but over time they’d grown to mean so much to the reserved archaeologist. She’d felt an instant attraction to Mel when she turned up at her dig site; all polished manners and refined clothes. She was so unlike the type of company Janice usually kept, and was far from the kind of woman the blonde had been attracted to in the past she tried to put her feelings to the back of her mind. What she hadn’t taken into consideration was the Southerner’s natural charm and need to take care of people drawing the two women even closer together. So close that Janice began to notice the smell of her skin, the way her hair shone, the little habits she wasn’t even aware she had. By the time they left for the States, Melinda had successfully insinuated herself into Janice’s heart and mind, and although the archaeologist knew she would never act on these emotions she also couldn’t help from seeing Mel whenever she could.

A disgruntled sigh came from the desk by the window as Mel followed Janice’s movements with frustrated eyes. She’s so stubborn, thought the Southern woman. And unreasonable she added when the archaeologist blew a plume of cigar smoke into the air, despite Melinda asking her to curb that particular habit. But even if Mel was annoyed with her friend’s obstinate behaviour it didn’t diminish the fact she was beginning to care, more than she perhaps thought she should, for the smaller woman. And that was the very reason she wanted to introduce her to her oldest friend that evening. She was sure Regina would be as equally charmed by the unconventional woman just as Mel had found herself swept along with the manner Janice carried herself with. And she desperately wanted to make sense of the emotions that had been growing stronger day by day since their first meeting a couple of months ago in Greece. Having Regina’s input might help her do that.

Deciding that she was going to settle this particular argument in her favour once and for all, she used an approach she’d seen work when her mother wanted her father to do something he would rather not do. Like going to a dinner party, Mel thought to herself. Strange that she hadn’t noticed before the familiar characteristics of her father in the annoyed blonde woman across from her. Dr Pappas had been as equally stubborn when he was alive, to the entreaties of his doting wife and daughter. Much preferring his books and studies of ancient languages to sipping cocktails with the social set of South Carolina. Mel mused that he would probably approve of his daughter’s growing friendship with the archaeologist he had always spoken fondly of if, he were still around today.

‘If you really don’t want to go’ began Mel in a quiet, hopeless tone. ‘Then I won’t force you. It would just mean a lot to me if you would meet my oldest and dearest friend.’ She glanced over to Janice who was looking at her with compassion in her eyes and she knew the archaeologist wouldn’t be able to say no now. Although it was an underhand tactic, she remembered that her father never truly despised it when her mother had done the same thing. And she could also remember the smiles on their faces when they would return from evenings out, each having obviously enjoyed themselves. She hoped the same could be said for her and Janice that evening.

Janice knew she was being manipulated and coming from anyone other than her Southern friend she would have dug her heels in even more and stayed at home on principal. But Janice had recently discovered that she found it difficult to turn down anything Mel wanted, she’d even got her down to smoking only one cigar a day, so knew she’d give in the minute Mel started talking.

I must be really losing my grip, thought the archaeologist as she smiled at her defeat.

‘If it means so much to you sweetheart, then who am I to say no?’

From her desk Mel beamed up at her friend, for both her decision and the endearment. Her smile quickly faded however when Janice continued.

‘I do have one condition however.’

Mel looked at Janice cautiously. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m not wearing a dress.’ The green eyes twinkled with her remark and she took a slow pull on her cigar.

So relieved that Janice was accompanying her that evening Melinda could only laugh at the archaeologist’s statement. Although she worried what some of the more single-minded socialites at Regina’s party would make of the Pappas heiress arriving on the arm of a beautiful trouser clad young woman, Mel figured it would sure make for an interesting evening out and she nodded her head in agreement.

She had a teasing smile to her own ruby red lips.

‘Well may at least suggest you steer clear of khaki. I think there will be enough surprises for the evening as it is.’

Janice debated whether she wanted to know what Mel meant by her words, and concluding that she probably didn’t the archaeologist started to mentally prepare herself for the night ahead. Dining with high society had never been a required skill for the young blonde woman before now, and certainly her upbringing with Harry hadn’t prepared his daughter to know which knife and fork to use when she was presented with more than one set. Sitting back down in the easy leather chair at her desk, she slowly finished off her cigar as she gazed back at the smiling figure over at the window, once again ensconced in her books.

What have you gotten me in to Miss Pappas thought Janice.

 

Now months down the line Janice could look back at the horrendous evening she’d spent with Mel’s social peers with humour. Partly because she remembered the way Melinda had handled the snide comments about the small suited woman she had brought as her companion that some of her contemparies made that evening, but also because the effervescent and downright amusing Reggie had made it her goal to ease Janice’s discomfort by including her and Mel in every conversation she had. So whether the rest of the socialite set disapproved of the acquaintance Melinda Pappas had made when she went off on that hair brained scheme of hers to Europe, Regina Hymen-Jones made it clear by her enjoyment of the archaeologist’s company that as far as she was concerned a friend of Mel’s was also a friend of hers.

Sitting in the kitchen, hearing Mel’s voice drift in from the hallway as she continued to chat with her best friend, Janice softly chuckled to herself as she remembered the look on Reggie’s face as she and Mel told her the details of how they first met. Bullets flying and whip’s cracking included.

The two tall Southern ladies were in peels of laughter as Janice exaggerated the story, making Mel’s quiet histrionics at the time much more pronounced and downplayed her own bravery by just making out like it had been an average day for her. Regina couldn’t remember the last time one of her cocktail parties had been this much fun. The stuffed shirt brigade could use some livening up she surmised after spending just ten minutes in Janice’s company. Not to mention the change in her best friend since her return from the adventure she’d had in Greece.

Regina had figured she’d met someone, and it had to be someone special for Melinda to bring down those cultivated, Southern lady ways her mother had successfully drummed into her from birth. The invitation for Melinda to bring a guest was not only for the benefit of Mel feeling comfortable at approaching Regina about what was on her mind and in her heart, but was so Regina could size up this fellow who had made her sweet best friend laugh again. And after the initial shock of it being an attractive young blonde woman, in neat dark slacks with a crisp white shirt and matching tie, whom Melinda introduced her two and not some dark, handsome Greek Adonis, Reggie went with her gut instincts. Janice Covington was what those in the South called, ‘good people’. So for Reggie, ruffling a few feathers at one of her cocktail parties by spending most of her time with the unusual woman didn’t bother her one bit, and brought relief to Melinda who was terrified that her best friend would disapprove of the new friend she’d made.

And now it struck Janice as ironic that it should be the one friend who supported Mel’s choice to befriend the archaeologist that should be the cause of the interruption that led Mel away. Janice knew she could be dense sometimes in matters of the heart, but surely she couldn’t have misinterpreted all the signals she’d been getting from the tall woman since she arrived last night. As her thoughts drifted back to that untimely interruption she was convinced Melinda was going to open up her heart to her. And of all people Reggie had to come between them at such a delicate moment. Janice laughed again at the circumstances she found her life in at the moment. Well it beat crying about it as she had done last night when the soothing water of the bath finally got through her defenses.

‘What are you laughing at?’ A light Southern voice enquired from the doorway, accompanied with a warm smile.

Janice hadn’t even realised Mel had finished on the phone and walked back to the kitchen. If she had she would have perhaps been able to avoid the enquiry.

Well half a lie is better than a whole one, archaeologist thought mused.

‘I was just remembering that cocktail party you dragged me too last year.’ Janice tried to sound nonchalant so Mel wouldn’t catch her in the lie.

It worked because she earned a grimace from the Southern woman as she came into the kitchen to finish clearing the table.

‘Yes well, I’m glad you can laugh about it now. At the time I seem to remember you were far from amused when that idiot Humphrey tried to cut in when we danced.’

Janice’s thoughts hadn’t even remembered that part of the evening, so crowded they were with her present emotions. How could she have forgotten the best part of the entire debacle?

She returned the gentle smile Mel threw her from the sink and wondered if the Southerner was going to pick up where she’d left off before the telephone call.

‘Hey he’d had his turn, and ruined your shoes, as I recall, in the process, he kept treading on your feet so many times. I just thought it was time you Southern belles saw how we did it New York style.’

That easy charm which Mel had found so appealing when she first met Janice was back in the archaeologist’s voice again and she wished that they could go back in time to the evening of that party just so she could feel Janice’s arms, holding her protectively as the small woman whisked her around Regina’s ballroom. The two of them oblivious to the staring eyes and disapproving looks from around the edge of the room.

Mel smiled wishfully as her mind played out that scene in her head. The feel of Janice’s strong arms as they’d taken her to her in a loose hold. It was the only part of their bodies that touched, Janice’s right arm resting firmly on the base of her spine, the other gently holding Mel’s gloved hand. To the love-struck Southerner it felt like their bodies were melded together as one. They moved as one when Janice led them in a middle-tempo waltz, never missing a beat when she added in a few moves Mel had never learnt in finishing school. Melinda remembered the way her head wanted to rest on the inviting shoulder of the woman who stood at least five inches shorter that night because she’d foolishly worn heels. To close her eyes and let the music and Janice’s dancing just take over had been a desire Melinda fought with every bit of restraint she had. What threatened that restraint even further was the look in Janice’s eyes when she twirled her around and brought her back into the comfort of her arms. It was the first time she’d seen the guarded emerald greens truly shine, and also the first time that she entertained the thought that the small woman, who had her in her arms in front of all the people that mattered in Mel’s high society, could be someone she wanted to share her life with.

Looking back to Janice’s green eyes in the kitchen Mel searched for the same look as had adorned them all those months ago when they shared their first, and only dance. She found them gazing back at her with a wistful sorrow. The shine of happiness that had been ever present since that night of the party was gone, and in its place sadness seemed etched into the deep recesses of green.

Tears sprang quickly to Mel’s clear blue eyes at the sight and she turned back around to face the wall. She remembered the look of sorrow that had flanked her friend when she arrived in the middle of the night, shivering from the cold. Something had happened in New York, something that had put out the light Janice usually carried within her. With all the emotions that were vying for her thoughts inside her head right now, Melinda didn’t think she could cope with turning the conversation back to a more intimate level. She blinked back the tears, glad that Regina had interrupted them that morning after all when her doubts and questions over that look in Janice’s eyes caused the Southern lady to reconsider all the two women had experienced together.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ The question had come from just behind her. Mel knew if she turned around she would be face to face with a robed Janice, concern on her face and that sadness in her eyes. Right now she couldn’t face that.

Mel nodded her head, and quickly wiped her eyes then reached for the glasses that had been sitting on the side of the sink. Hoping that Janice wouldn’t detect her tears if she had them on.

Her emotions a little more under control, Mel hoped her voice didn’t crack when she spoke.

‘You probably heard, that was Regina on the phone.’ Although she’d turned back around, blue eyes refused to focus on the green before her. ‘I have a fundraising luncheon to get to for the Church. Reggie shall be here in less than twenty minutes and I’m not dressed appropriately, so if you’ll excuse me Janice.’

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours Janice watched Melinda’s retreating form leave her alone in a room, and like last night Janice wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to make the Southerner leave. One minute they’d been laughing and joking, the next Mel was turning her back on her. Janice fell into the chair left vacant earlier on by her friend and bowed her head into her hands, quiet pent up tears escaping her.

Similar to the attention she provides when she hears the sounds of her mistress’s tears, Dite walked over from where she’d been lazing in the late morning sunshine by the kitchen door and plopped her furry face on Janice’s legs. Sweet, loving canine eyes gazed up at the crying woman and through her tears Janice let only the dog know the trouble her heart was in.

‘What did I do Dite?’ Janice absently stroked the dog’s face whilst her own face became streaked with salty tears. ‘Why does she keep turning away from me when I want to keep her so close? I know I’m not the most forthcoming of people, hell I never even told Harry how much he meant to me, but I’m trying aren’t I?’ She looked down to black canine eyes and just got a nudge for her trouble. ‘What? I need to try harder?’ The dog seemed to nod her approval, it made Janice chortle through her tears. ‘And just how the fuck am I supposed to do that when she keeps walking off all the time?’

Janice’s head snapped up when she heard the admonishment from the old woman standing at the back door.

‘There’s no need for language like that young lady.’

God how long has she been standing there?

Janice quickly wiped her face with the back of Mel’s sleeve and kept hold of any more tears that wanted to fall. The dog had bounded over to Betsy the minute she came in, waiting for a treat to come from the apron the old woman always wore, and Janice suddenly felt very small and alone. Her tear-stained eyes looked worryingly at the older woman as she moved around the kitchen, depositing various herbs and plants she’d gotten from the garden in the correct storage spaces. Once her task was done she put a fresh pot of coffee on the stove and sat down opposite the rigid looking New Yorker, figuring that the talk she was about to have with her young Yankee friend had been a long time in coming.

‘Dear me Janice, relax a little. Anyone would think I’d pointed a gun to your head.’ Betsy was smiling and hoped that Janice would see that there was no threat to be found in her kitchen this morning.

Janice on the other hand rather did wish that she were facing a gun. In fact if she hadn’t left the city in such a hurry forgetting to tuck her handy revolver in to her duffel bag, she’d be rummaging through her belongings for it right now to put herself out of this misery.

She took a deep breath to see if that would get her muscles to un-freeze the moment she realised she hadn’t been talking on deaf ears after all.

My God I’ve faced down the God of War himself and this woman’s presence is turning me in to a yellow-belly coward, Janice admonished herself.

Janice Covington may be a lot of things, but a coward was not one of them. And if Betsy had heard what she’d told Dite in confidence, the least Janice could do was explain herself to Mel’s un-spoken guardian.

She looked the grey haired woman in the eye, her poker face firmly back in place now.

‘How much did you hear?’ There was little gentleness to her voice like there usually was when she addressed the old-fashioned housekeeper, and Betsy thought that if she wanted to do this the difficult way, she too could play hardball.

‘Oh I hear plenty in this house, you mark my words.’ Betsy started off stern, but seeing the masked look of hurt in the pretty green eyes before her softened her immediately, she just didn’t have the heart to make Janice more uncomfortable.

‘Now do you want to tell me why you look so sad sweetpea or do I have to sic Dite here on to you?’ Her words were followed by the kind of smile that only people who have lived and loved for a long time give you. It was compassionate, understanding and heartfelt all at the same time. And Janice appreciated the sentiment from the old woman so much she felt her eyes sting with tears again. This was getting to be a bad habit thought Janice, as yet again she hung her head as the tears flowed.

The housekeeper rightly assumed that an embrace would only make the woman crying at her kitchen table more embarrassed than she already felt at showing her emotions so readily, so she busied herself with the coffee things whilst Janice got herself under control again.

A few minutes later Janice was sipping coffee that rivaled the taste of Melinda’s earlier that morning, finally feeling in control of the well of tears that had broken free from her so easily in the past week. She looked into the caring eyes of the old woman and tried to smile, but the effort was too much and her face remained pained.

‘Its not good to keep all that pain hidden away girl. It always finds a way of breaking free when you least expect it to. Why not tell an old woman your troubles? I may not be as good a listener as that dog over there, but I promise like her I won’t pass any judgments.’

Betsy watched the green-eyed woman put down her coffee cup and adjust herself in her chair. Janice leaned a little on the big table between them and looked up into compassionate grey eyes.

‘Everything is such a mess Betsy.’ Janice began and she could already feel the burden lifting around her heart. ‘I came here thinking that everything would suddenly make sense in my life but things have only gotten worse.’

‘And why do you think things have gotten worse here dear?’

Janice let out a bitter laugh and looked incredulous at the woman across from her.

‘Because! Melinda won’t stay in the same room long enough with me to explain why I’m here. And I’m not sure when she does hear why I’ve come she’ll want to even be in the same State as me let alone a room. I just seem to leave destruction in my wake wherever I go. Here is no different.’

Janice lent back in her chair, heavy sighs that had a hint of tears in them escaped from her chest.

‘Yes, I saw the broken vase in your room this morning,’ quipped Betsy.

That at least brought a smile from the younger woman.

‘I’m serious Betsy, maybe Mel is better off without me. At least this way she won’t get hurt.’ Janice mused, almost to herself.

Betsy reached over the table and gripped Janice’s hands tightly in her own wrinkled ones.

‘Honey that girl is hurting now that the two of you aren’t together the way she dreams you are. Can’t you see that?’

Janice shook her head no.

‘Well then, maybe you aren’t as clever as you look. That precious Mel of mine has been in love with you ever since she came back from Greece. And I know you feel the same or else whatever drove you away from New York wouldn’t have brought you here to her. Now the question is what are you going to do about it?’

To the old housekeeper things were that simple, and maybe Janice could have gone with that confidence too if she only didn’t have what happened in New York also fighting her feelings for Mel. Betsy frowned at the blonde when her entreaty hadn’t been responded to in the way she thought it would be.

‘There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’ For the first time since sitting down with her young friend that day Betsy felt the urge to protect her precious Mel from the woman, not bring them together. She didn’t like the way Janice still fought with the truth she’d been told about how Mel felt for her, and the retreating hands before her didn’t improve the situation for Betsy that much either.

‘Yes ma’am there is something else you should know. And when you do you might reconsider not wanting to judge me.’ Janice looked wearily at the suddenly imposing old woman, sat with her arms firmly crossed the ample bosom old women in the South all seemed to possess.

‘I’m listening.’

Well here goes nothing, Janice reasoned.

It had been on her mind, and buried deep in her heart for the past three days, it was time to let it out. And maybe after she’d told Betsy, Janice would find the courage to tell Melinda when she returned from her appointment at the Church. At least when that was done she truly would know if the Southerner loved her, and if she didn’t? Well, just tell Betsy first of all.

 

Chapter 3 Expect the unexpected

The fundraising luncheon had been tedious. Although being on the Committee meant that Melinda needed to pay attention, as she sat on the head table with her friend Reggie to her left and Mrs. Henderson, chairwoman and local matriarch of the South Carolina social season to her right, Mel’s thoughts were far from the topic at hand. She missed several points the older Southern woman made concerning a bake sale and summer carnival that she should have been noting down on the small, leather bound note-pad before her. When Mrs. Henderson turned to Mel to enquire what her last idea had been, having been distracted by the mutterings from some of the younger ladies in the luncheon hall that they’d had a bake sale last year, Reggie had to come to her friends rescue because if Mel repeated what she’d been doodling on her pad all through lunch, the easily shocked matriarch would have choked on her fruit salad when she heard the name Janice.

Reggie had decided then that she needed to get to the bottom of her friend’s distracted mood, and to that end the two old friends were now sat on the veranda of Reggie’s extravagantly decadent ‘bachelor’ pad as she likes to call it, sipping mint juleps prepared by the elderly coloured butler Joe that had been looking after the willful Regina since she was in swaddling clothes.

The late afternoon sun was just bearable in the shade provided by the overhang Regina’s mother had insisted would ruin the line of the otherwise beautiful white-washed, wooden house. But Reggie spent so many of her afternoons in the sun, lounging much like she was now on one of the chaise she’d had flown in from Europe, that she’d thought to hell with what taste dictates. Besides the kind of conversation she’d envisioned in her mind on the drive over here with Mel would provide enough heat to her naïve natured friend, that she thought the more cooling off she could provide the better. Hence, the mint juleps.

As it was with friends that have known each other all their lives, Regina knew what was on her friend’s mind without the raven-haired woman opposite her, on a matching chaise, needing to utter a word. They shared the kind of friendship that had made them the envy of the finishing school they’d attended too many years ago for Reggie’s liking. And even through the disparate paths their adult lives had taken; Melinda surprising everyone by wanting to follow in her father’s footsteps and go to university; Regina taking up her place in Southern society as the woman to get an invitation from to one of her soirees, they’d not let their deep friendship falter. They could still finish off each other’s sentences like they had as schoolgirls, and either one of them knew when something was bothering the other. Which is why Reggie had her friend relaxing with a drink in her hand this late on a humid afternoon, a rare thing for Melinda to indulge in during the day.

Much like a conversation that had started earlier that day between a tear stained Yankee archaeologist and an old Southern woman, Regina began with a question.

‘So when did she arrive?’ Mel hadn’t told her friend that she’d been woken in the middle of the night by a bedraggled looking Janice, and Reggie was amused by the high arch of a dark eyebrow she got from a surprised Melinda.

‘Oh come on Mel, if that distant look your eyes have held all day isn’t down to the arrival of a certain pretty blonde, then I’m going to pack up and join the circus the next time they’re in town.’

Reggie sipped from her glass, and wondered if Mel would remember their childhood plan of running away and joining Master Fernando’s Flying Trapeze act the year their parents had taken them to the State Fair. She received a soft chuckle from her friend for the joke.

‘And just what kind of act do you think you could perform now Miss Jones? You’re days of hanging upside down from the banisters are well and truly over.’ Melinda was grateful that she had a friend like Regina to joke with, and confide in. Whilst she hadn’t found the invitation to spend the afternoon lounging in the sun, shooting the breeze with her friend, out of the ordinary, she did wonder why she was sat with a drink in her hand and an unusually perceptive Regina before her.

Reggie raised her own much lighter brows in response to Mel’s retort.

‘Don’t you believe it honey. Those banisters can still hold my weight when I try.’

Both women let out a girlish laugh that made Joe in the kitchen stop his brass polishing as he looked up to the window to see what those two were getting up to. Maybe those juleps he’d mixed had been a little on the strong side he considered, and went back to his task hoping that Miss Regina would be in a fit state to drive Miss Pappas home later on.

Mel wiped the tears of laughter from behind her spectacled eyes as she saw Reggie drain her glass dry. Suddenly the laughing eyes of her friend became serious as she looked back in Mel’s direction.

‘Am I going to need Joe in there to fix me another one of these when you finally decide to tell me what’s happened between the two of you?’ Not that Regina drank a lot during the day herself, but she did like to have something strong to hand when it came to discussions of the heart. The fact that she practically came out in a rash whenever her mother mentioned the words ‘settling down’ made her own discourse on her love-life fettered with only the most casual remarks, but getting Mel to open up how she truly feels for that roguish friend of hers had been like getting blood from a stone. She surmised today would be no different.

‘I don’t know Regina. It depends what you think about your best friend falling in love with another woman.’ Mel’s voice was firm but she couldn’t help the shake to her hands as she finally admitted out loud what her heart had been telling her for months.

Reggie smiled the biggest smile she usually reserved for the start of the social season ball at her friend’s admission, and lent over to her to take hold of her hands.

Mel was looking at her with that surprised arched brow again.

‘Finally! I’ve been wondering when you would get around to telling me what I’ve known for months. I couldn’t be more pleased for you Melinda honey, I hope you and Janice will be so happy together.’

When the azure eyes of her friend misted over with tears Reggie got a little concerned, but then Mel always had been an emotional woman. But when the tall woman lunged towards her on the chaise, almost unbalancing an already precarious seated bestfriend, Regina realised her congratulations were a little premature.

I knew I should have gotten another drink, Regina thought as she soothed her friend’s tears with gentle movements of her hands on the broad shoulders.

Similar to the way Janice finally let out all her frustrations through the tears she’d shed across the kitchen table with Betsy, Melinda let the confusion of the last twenty-four hours out in the arms of her oldest friend with long, hard sobs. She never knew being in love could cause so many tears. She hadn’t cried so much since her father had passed away, and even at that painful time the ache hadn’t been quite like this. She always knew how much her father loved her, and towards the end the two of them made sure they said all they wanted to say so nothing was left unsure when he died. The tears that flowed now, streaking the mascara down her face and splashing against the lenses of her glasses, were out of despair that she and Janice hadn’t said anything to each other. That she’d run away when it seemed Janice wanted her to stay. And she’d not only done that once, but twice. What kind of fool was she? she thought as more sobs came pouring out of her. Why did she have to be so scared of what Janice wanted to say? Well at least the crying woman knew the answer to that one. She was terrified of Janice rejecting her. So terrified that for the past year she’s kept her feelings hidden from the one person who should be seeing Mel for how she truly felt, whilst her best friend had been able to see the love the Southerner held for Janice.

It was this last thought that drew the final wails of despair out from the depths of Mel’s heart and made Reggie cry along with her friend, at the pain she was so obviously going through. From inside the kitchen, Joe looked bemused at the change in the women he saw hugging outside. One minute laughing, the next minute crying like babies. He scratched his greying head, muttering to himself that even if he lived to be a hundred he’d never understand women.

Finally freeing herself from Regina’s compassionate hold of her Mel looked up through the tears that had stayed welled in her eyes and saw an equally teary eyed friend. The streaks of Reggie’s blue mascara had stained her rouged cheeks, and Mel gently laughed at the effect it created. She looked like the worlds unhappiest clown.

Reggie gazed at her now laughing friend with confusion. She didn’t find anything about this scenario amusing. When she blinked her tears away and could focus again on the face before her she thought she saw the funny side. Mel’s own face had black lines streaked across those enviable cheek bones, and her glasses had misted up, her eyes all darkened and puffy. The raccoon she’d caught sniffing around her azaleas last week sprang to mind.

‘Well if you think I look funny you should get a look at yourself.’ Quipped Reggie as she left Mel’s side to go inside and retrieve her vanity case, a box of tissues and two more stiff drinks that Joe had placed just by the back door on a silver tray.

A mere ten minutes later both women looked like the respectable Southern ladies they’d been taught how to be in school, make-up back in place and composed once again. If it weren’t for the red rings under Mel’s eyes, and the way her breath still caught itself in her mouth sometimes when she heaved a deep sigh, no one would have ever known there’d been tears that day.

‘Do you mind telling me what all those tears were about? Or do you always react to my giving you my best wishes that way?’ As ever Regina managed to find humour in the hardest of situations and yet again Mel gave thanks that she had a friend like her to turn to.

‘I’m afraid your best wishes might go to waste Reggie.’

Regina frowned at her friend, not liking the way this was headed.

‘Janice did come here to propose to you didn’t she?’

Mel laughed at her friend’s choice of words, and was glad that she too could see a funny side to this.

‘No, and I don’t think she will be doing anything of the sort either.’

Mel paused, ready to unburden all that had been in her heart since Janice’s unexpected arrival, and what had been in her heart since the first moment she saw the small woman with strawberry blonde hair come to her rescue what seemed like a lifetime ago.

With words that unknowingly belonged to her heart’s desire Mel continued.

‘Everything is such a mess Reggie.’

**********

Joe brought out the tea tray just as Melinda finished explaining about the way she’d left things with Janice after the woman, now thanking her butler for his thoughtfulness, had phoned that day. Regina was even annoyed at herself for her unwitting part in Mel’s distress. As she poured out the cups of Earl Grey she apologised profusely for her interruption.

‘Oh Reggie, its not your fault dear that I am a complete idiot when it comes to relationships.’

Mel took the offered china cup and smiled at her friend.

‘Well that’s true.’ Regina had a teasing smile to her painted lips and earned another arch of Mel’s left eyebrow. How did the woman do that? Reggie wondered, knowing when she tried to mimic it she just looked like she needed to use the powder room desperately.

‘I only meant that you haven’t had much experience in this arena before honey.’ Not sure whether her friend was genuinely annoyed with her, Regina chose the sensitive approach.

‘I have no experience in this arena, that’s the problem.’ Mel sighed and lent back on her chaise. The sun was set low in the sky now, and the translator had lost all track of time. It felt like weeks had passed since she’d left her home without saying goodbye to Janice that day. She wondered what the archaeologist had been up to since she’d been gone. Probably packing up her duffel bag and catching the first train out of here, Mel’s doubts concluded. Her eyes began to grow misty again.

Seeing where her friend’s thoughts were leading Reggie stepped in.

‘Oh no you don’t. We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep blubbering every time you think of what hasn’t been said. What we need to do is concentrate on what has been said. Or rather not said.’ Regina frowned at herself for the clear as mud sentiment. Mel was equally as confused, but least it had stopped the tears from breaking free.

‘What I mean is, just think for a minute why Janice turned up on your doorstep last night. Of all the people that she could have turned to...’ she raised up a hand at the objection she knew was coming from Mel’s lips. Janice didn’t strike her as the kind of woman who had a lot of people she trusted to turn to, but that was beside the point. ‘…she chose to run to your side. Now even though she hasn’t said much since she got here, in that one act she’s telling you something.’

Mel allowed a sliver of hope back into her heart and looked pensively back at her friend, not daring to voice that hope herself.

Regina rolled her eyes at her and continued.

Well if you want me to spell it out for you, dummy.

‘She’s telling you that she cares for you Melinda. Loves you even. By coming here under some dark cloud from New York, she’s letting you know that she needs you to take care of her for a change.’

The redhead had a point, Mel considered. But still, Janice needed to be taken care of? That didn’t sound much like the Janice she’d gotten to know over the past year. But was that just the romantic notion of her friend she’d fantasised about when she’d handled herself so courageously in the face of danger?

Her father once told her that everybody wanted to find someone that will take care of them. Deep down that was a yearning that all human life shared, he insisted. Even the fiercely independent people like Janice, had that secret wish buried deep in their hearts, they just might never be able to articulate it because of their very natures. Like her ancient ancestor, Melinda thought. So many of the scrolls described her as heroic, taking charge all the time and protecting Gabrielle. But it didn’t go un-noticed in the way the bard had written about her companion, how much Xena actually needed to be cared for in the same way she kept the bard’s heart safe in her hands. The roles might be reversed centuries later, but the sentiments were the same. Janice needed Mel to take care of her, and the tall Southern woman was beginning to come round to Regina’s way of thinking.

Perhaps that was the reason the archaeologist had come here to South Carolina after all?

When she saw a dawning of understanding come to the sad blue eyes before her, lighting them up in the way she always remembered happened when Mel would finally grasp the trigonometry lessons in school, Regina let out a sigh of relief. For a minute there she thought she was going have to physically knock some sense into the woman. Pouring herself a second cup of tea, feeling the two drinks she’d had that afternoon a little too much, she was going to suggest a plan of action for the raven-haired woman to go home with and confront her soul mate. For Reggie believed, just as Mel admitted to herself in her dreams, that in Janice Covington she’d found her soul mate. And despite Reggie’s aversion to serious relationships impeding her from finding the other half to her own soul, she was going to do her darnedest to make sure her best friend didn’t miss the chance of uniting with hers.

With an idea for a romantic trip to the mountains in her mind, it had always worked for her in the past after all, Regina was stopped before she even got started as she heard the telephone ring from inside.

What is it with those things today, she mused angrily, knowing that Joe wouldn’t answer it for the old butler still hadn’t totally gotten to grips with modern technology just yet.

Fixing the blue-eyed woman in the eye Regina uttered a warning.

‘Don’t you dare think about anything else till I get back. I don’t want to have to fix your make-up for you twice in one day.’

The sound of her friend’s genuine laughter behind her relaxed Regina as she went into the house to see who had interrupted her in mid-brainwave. Putting on the friendly, flirtatious voice she uses for the telephone, for as she told Joe many times you never know who was on the other end of the line, she picked up the black receiver and squealed with delight when she recognised the owner of the voice.

As she chatted away, another brainwave hit her concerning her friend sat out on the veranda.

Maybe I should drink during the day more often, she thought, a devilish glint to her eyes.

Making the person on the other end of the line promise to call her the next day to fill her in on what they’d been discussing, Reggie had a purposeful stride to her steps when she emerged a few minutes later in front of the now less anxious Mel.

Melinda quirked her eyebrows in that annoying way again when she couldn’t understand the smile Reggie was now wearing on her face. But Regina didn’t quip at the expression this time, she was far too excited.

Reaching out her hand to help Mel up, she only had three words to say to her.

‘We’re going shopping.’ Before Mel could protest that she didn’t need any new clothes Reggie was already starting up the Buick. Yet again where Regina was concerned, Mel didn’t have a clue what was going on inside her friend’s head.

**********

The sky had that glowing red ember about it on the drive back to the mansion. It was nearing dusk, Melinda’s favourite time of the day. The anticipation of a moonlit night, peppered with a blanket of stars had always excited her, even as a child. She could stare at the changes above her for hours, waiting for the first star to appear and wish upon. It felt so seamless when the blue of the sky became dyed with a fiery orange, distorting the shadows on the ground, lengthening them as if the world suddenly grew to titanic proportions. Mel would gaze across her lawn from her preferred seat on the veranda, at the birch trees lined up on either side of the immaculate cut grass, noting their dark shadows become more imposing as the last of the sun’s rays burnt the sky. Alternating her gaze from Earth to the paling sky, she would be mesmerized by the phenomenon that most people never take the time to watch. Feeling as though she were witness to an ancient ritual that her ancestors had experienced first hand. When she could no longer make out the dark trunks of the trees from their inky black counterparts on the ground, Mel would know that was the time to look up and be filled with the reverence she has always felt as she spotted Orion, Hercules and Atlas shining above her.

Tonight though she hadn’t been able to indulge the way she normally did. Having Regina constantly chattering away in the car about inconsequential things, made it difficult for Melinda to feel excited about anything the skies had to offer. Their unexpected shopping spree had been a success, as they always were with Regina leading the way, but since they had the left the up-market shopping district, laden with more bags for Melinda than for her friend, the translator hadn’t been able to get out of Regina why they had gone shopping in the first place. Neither could she get Regina to explain why it had been imperative that she keep the last dress, an off-the-shoulder dinner gown in pearl white satin with matching low heeled sandals, on for the drive back. She’d protested as much as she could when Reggie had her mind fixed on something. Demanded to know why she had to risk it getting crumpled in the car, when all that was waiting for her at the end of the journey was probably a plate of cold supper Betsy always left for her in the kitchen and more awkward silences with Janice. If Regina had been intending to surprise her by taking her home to her place, and throwing one of the impromptu parties she was famous for, then Melinda wouldn’t have felt so ridiculous walking down Main Street to the Buick dressed up to the nines, and having to smile politely at people she knew. But Reggie had taken the turning for Mel’s home and kept up her non-stop chatter all the way, and Melinda didn’t think she’d ever get to the bottom of such strange behaviour.

They pulled up the mile long drive to the mansion just as the sun set in the distance, spreading a warm glow across the grounds of Mel’s home, extending its caress into the car and into the dark places of Mel’s heart that were still filled with doubts and fears. She heaved a weary sigh at the imposing evening ahead, wondering if Janice would even speak to her after the mess she’d made of things that morning. Regina glanced at her friend and a private, indulgent smile quickly passed her features as she remembered her telephone conversation of earlier on. When the car neared the foot of the steps to the mansion’s front door, Regina stopped it abruptly, just because that’s the way Reggie drove and also to get that melancholic look off of her friends face. It didn’t go with the magnificent dress, thought Reggie, chuckling at the high arched brow coming from the passenger seat.

‘Remind me Miss Jones, you did get your license in our senior year by passing the test and not charming it out of Mr. Kettering?’ Melinda’s voice was stern, but there was the unmistakable teasing glint from her blue eyes directed at Reggie, who had to laugh.

‘Why Miss Pappas, whatever do you mean?’ She answered, feigning an innocent voice that somehow never suited the vibrant redhead.

Both friends giggled as they had as schoolgirls. Despite all the days’ events, the tears and heartache, the uncertainty which still invaded Mel’s thoughts whenever she remembered sad green eyes, Mel admitted to herself that she’d had an enjoyable time that day, and perhaps shopping for something decadent to wear to a plate of cold chicken salad was actually the best tonic for the malady that surrounded her heart.

She looked to her friend; intent on thanking her for always being there but as ever Reggie was one step ahead.

‘You’re welcome honey. Any time.’

Melinda looked more like her old self when she smiled at Reggie in return. There were still the doubts hidden behind her azure eyes, Reggie could see, but least Melinda hadn’t forgotten how to enjoy herself.

The tall translator reached behind her in the car for her packages, being careful not to crease her dress any further. Surprisingly the material had been very wielding all the while home, only the meticulous eyes of Melinda could detect any crumples, and she figured, as she wouldn’t be faced with any company that evening, she could live with a few creases here and there. Regina put out a hand, as if to help Mel but instead stopped her friend in mid movement.

‘You know, just leave those. I’ll drop by with them tomorrow.’

Mel looked puzzled at her friend, who shrugged her shoulders in return and offered a ‘don’t look at me like I’m crazy’ expression.

To stop any questions, that were probably swimming madly around the raven head right now, Regina quickly interjected.

‘I bet that dress would look great with your hair up. Remember how you had it at our deb’ ball? Let’s try it now.’ Before she could object, Regina was handing Mel a brush and grips that the redhead had hidden in the pocket on her side of the car, and was adjusting the mirror so Mel could see what she was doing.

Melinda just sat there, dumbfounded at her friend’s odd behaviour. Regina had always been a little peculiar, had quirks about her that to others were infuriating but to her best friend they only endeared her even more. But right now she couldn’t help thinking that Regina had seriously lost the grasp, she only keeps tenuously at the best of times, on reality.

Reggie glanced at her, seeing that expression of disbelief cross Mel’s features again. After today Mel would surely think she had a mad woman for a best friend, Reggie pondered as she urged Mel with her hair.

‘Just indulge an old friend would you? I’ll never have hair that behaves so well as yours, I just want to live vicariously through your hair for awhile.’ She smirked at her friend and hoped Mel wouldn’t get all stubborn on her again. Disbelieving yet again that Regina had gotten her to do something that made no sense whatsoever, Melinda finally acquiesced to her friend’s request. Often with Reggie, it was just simpler to go along with her oddball ideas than swim against them.

Ten minutes later, and with a little pinning and coaxing from Regina, Melinda had the kind of hairstyle that would make you stop and stare in the street. Her elegant raven tresses were swept up off her slender neck, and held together by an exquisite ivory clasp that complemented the colour of the dress Melinda wore. Long wisps fell down and framed her face perfectly, the dark bangs on her forehead sealing the effect. For a moment Regina looked at her friend and saw the beauty that she’d envied as teenagers, but could now appreciate with sisterly affection. Melinda was simply stunning; there was no way to escape the fact. And it wasn’t down to the marriage of her father’s handsome, rugged features and the elegant poise of her mother’s bone structure that made Melinda stand out amongst a sea of people. It was in the fact that the translator had no idea she was so beautiful, it freed her to be exactly who she wanted to be in whatever company she was keeping, because she wasn’t constantly thinking about her appearance. When men stopped and stared at her in the street, she would often be puzzled by the appreciating gazes they were giving her, and the envious glares from the women were even more unfathomable. But Mel was just Mel, Reggie thought to herself as she looked again at the beauty next to her. And that meant not caring if other people found her attractive. Well, one other person’s opinion she did care about. And quite frankly Janice would have to be dead if she didn’t react to Mel’s current appearance, Reggie mused.

She broke the unsure gaze Mel was giving her again, and lent over to open her door. She’d promised to have Melinda home in time for dinner, and it was nearing the hour now.

Though I never promised this Reggie thought to herself, as she watched the vision that was Mel in that dress, get out of the car and straighten her tall frame.

Reggie wound the passenger side window down and lent across at Mel’s urging. Hoping that after she’d gotten her this far now wouldn’t be the time she needed to lie to her best friend.

Mel bent down slightly to talk to Reggie, a curious smile to her painted lips.

‘One day Regina Hymen-Jones, you are going to tell me what all this was really about.’ A brow rose in challenge as she waited for a reply.

Reggie just threw her head back and laughed an infectious laugh that summed up the redheaded woman perfectly.

The feigned innocent voice of hers was back.

‘Why Melinda Pappas, whatever do you mean?’

The Buick pulled away from Mel slowly, Regina aware of creating dust from the gravel driveway not matching the angelic vision she caught in the rearview mirror of her friend. But as she turned the car around to get back to the main road, her tires screeched in that recognizable way of hers and Mel’s ears were ringing with the peels of laughter from the speeding woman.

The translator chuckled to herself at the retreating car, and then surveyed herself again. She hadn’t looked so immaculate, she considered, since that cocktail party Janice had been thinking of this morning. Mel’s smile quickly faded as her thoughts returned to their favourite pastime of late, Janice. Fixing a determined gaze to her eyes, hoping it would give her the confidence to actually face Janice when she got inside, Melinda as ever walked with grace up the steps to the mansion, trying to ignore the erratic beating of her heart and the sudden queasy feeling in her stomach.

The door opened for her just as she reached for the heavy, brass doorknob. It caught Melinda off guard a little and she took a step back, waiting to see who was leaving, hoping that it wasn’t Janice. When no one came through the open door, Mel took a step forward peering into her hallway as if it were a stranger’s home she was entering.

The warm, welcoming smile that awaited her from the old woman reminded Melinda of why she held Betsy so dear to her heart. The housekeeper beamed up at her young charge, who she never remembered looking as beautiful as she did right at this minute. She made a mental note to congratulate that impulsive friend of Mel’s the next time she saw her, on a job well done. Mel was still perched gingerly in the doorway, waiting in her own home for an invitation to enter it seemed.

Betsy motioned her in with a small sweep of her aging hand.

‘Come in precious. Dinner is ready for you in the dining room.’

The housekeeper closed the door after Mel and softly chuckled at the surprise clearly showing in azure pools.

‘I don’t usually eat in the dining room.’ Reminded Melinda, but all she got was another soft chuckle. This certainly was turning out to be a strange day, mused the Southern woman as she followed the suddenly very servant like old woman before her.

Without another word, Betsy led the way to the huge, opulent dining room that as Melinda rightly said, was never usually in use, unless there was a dinner party planned. Even though she was walking ahead of the tall woman, Betsy could picture the confused expression, with the high arched brows that Melinda was wearing right now. She was probably dying to ask what was going on, the old woman thought, if the look she was met with when she’d opened the door was anything to go by. Betsy smiled to herself at the way the day, that had started off so badly for her two young friends, was going to turn out.

Once all the explanations and tears from Janice had been over with earlier that day, and Betsy didn’t judge her just as she said she wouldn’t, she watched as Janice’s courage returned to her, planting the seed for this evening’s events in her mind. Encouraged by the old woman and what she’d told her of Mel’s feelings towards her, Janice decided that it was time she confessed her own feelings to the person that mattered most in her world. And she wanted to make the moment she did that as memorable for Melinda as possible. She and Betsy had been working on it all afternoon, with Regina playing field agent keeping Melinda occupied. Though neither women back at the Pappas Mansion could have envisaged what Regina was up to, creating the perfect vision of beauty, whilst Betsy was slaving away in the kitchen and Janice was decorating the dining room so it was more warm and welcoming to the night.

She’d placed a dozen red roses in the middle of the long oak table as a centrepiece, and they complimented the wild flowers she’d scattered in various places along the sideboard that ran one length of the decadent room. Candles of differing shades and sizes were placed carefully along the table and against the window, and once lit they bathed the room in an ethereal glow, omitting the need for the imposing crystal chandelier. Betsy helped her with the place settings, and also gave her a quick lesson in table etiquette when Janice’s eyes looked panic stricken that there was more than one fork to use. They’d placed the settings at one end of the table, using the corner only so it made for a much more intimate meal, than sitting across from each other straining to hear what needed to be said. Janice had the wine cooling in a silver ice bucket by her side of the table and she had placed a single red rose where Mel would sit so she’d find it as she pulled out her chair.

And after she’d agonized for only an hour over what to wear, which for Janice who only owned a handful of presentable clothes and had brought half that amount with her, was a feat she never thought she’d ever go through for a woman; once she’d taken a soothing bath to see if the water would calm her racing pulse and when it didn’t a small glass of bourbon to see if that would help; after she’d pestered Betsy for what felt like the hundredth time that she honestly thought Mel would appreciate the gesture of a romantic meal, when all that was left was to wait for Regina to bring her heart’s desire home, Janice found herself so excited and happy she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t love the tall Southern woman.

**********

The huge paneled doors to the dining room slowly opened, alerting the archaeologist to her guest’s arrival. She was stood by the big bay windows that looked out on to the vast grounds where she’d been watching Dite chase fireflies in the dusky night. To the casual observer Janice appeared to be the calm and collected woman she always was, as she gazed out into the night, following the sun’s retreat in the same reverent way as Melinda. But secretly Janice’s racing heart hadn’t slowed down once since she’d embarked on the path that was now almost at its end. It was a daunting feeling Janice didn’t understand when she heard the click of the door handle turn behind her. Why should she be so scared of admitting the truth? It wasn’t like she’d had no experience in this arena before, felt the same pangs of anxiety when she was about to open up her heart. But this time was different. What she felt for the tall Southern woman eclipsed every emotion she’d had before now. It made all the other relationships seem like silly childish crushes when Janice tried to reason away the excitement she was in, waiting for Melinda to return. Her heart beating wildly in her chest like a thousand stampeding horses, a serene lopsided grin to her oval features, Janice truly felt like she was crazy in love.

And when she turned to the sound of soft footsteps, a closing door and a quiet gasp of ‘oh my’ the archaeologist finally realised why she’d been acting so crazy and out of character for the past year. Janice felt like she was in the presence of an angel as she saw Melinda, bathed in the glow of candlelight. She faltered a little at the wave of love that crashed through her when she caught the surprised, shy look to sapphire eyes. If the woman standing speechless on the other side of the room didn’t return her feelings, Janice pondered, she’d have to kill herself. For Janice knew in the instant she saw the vision of her friend that this was the woman that she was supposed to grow old with. If for whatever reason Melinda didn’t want to do that after what Janice had to tell her, then Janice just didn’t want to grow old at all.

Finding her legs in working order, even if the rest of her was still taking in the sight of Mel resplendent in the off-the-shoulder dress, Janice walked slowly over to where Mel was stood rigid by the door.

She bowed ever so slightly as she reached the Southern woman and offered her an arm.

‘Would you care to join me for dinner Miss Pappas?’ Her voice was low and charming, it made the Southerner blush for no reason, then a shy smile formed on her lips.

‘I’d love to Dr Covington.’ Mel’s reply was a little breathless, the erratic beating of her heart quickened even further.

Mel took the offered arm and gazed fleetingly at the emerald eyes below her. She wasn’t sure, she had only looked for the briefest of time, but Mel could have sworn that the sadness that had marred those eyes she’d grown to adore was suddenly gone. Replaced with a look Southern thought hoped was love.

Janice led Mel to the table and pulled out a chair for the tall woman. Mel thanked her and took hold of the folds of her dress to sit down. When azure pools saw the rose laying on the soft cushioned seat they lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. She extended a long manicured hand and lifted the romantic gesture to her face, inhaling the soft scent of the flower. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them she found green eyes looking back at her, accompanied with a smile as wide as her own.

‘Thank you Janice.’

She received a small nod from her friend. There was a look of relief in Janice’s eyes as she waited for Mel to seat herself before taking her own seat next to her.

Well so far so good the archaeologist reasoned.

As Janice poured the wine into two crystal glasses Melinda allowed herself to notice the changes in the room around her, and the change to the woman sat next to her. Janice looked softer somehow, in light slacks and a beautifully cut pale shirt. Her strawberry blonde locks reflected gold in the muted candlelight; there was a translucent quality to her skin, which never needed touches of foundation or paint to bring out the understated beauty of the small woman. Catching herself staring at the figure before her Mel quickly glanced away, still not sure what all this was about. She glanced around her surroundings again, taking it all in. The dining room had never looked so welcoming, or romantic Mel thought as she took in all the little touches she assumed had been down to the archaeologist. Now she realised why Regina had kept her busy all afternoon, traipsing from one shop to another. And with a slow dawning smile on her face, she finally got why Reggie had insisted on tonight’s attire. Well there are worse things to be set up for Melinda thought to herself and let out a gentle laugh.

Green eyes rose a little at the sound of the sweet laughter. Mel saw the question that was hidden in those eyes and responded.

‘Did you call Regina by any chance today?’

Janice curled her lips into a mischievous smile.

‘I might have.’ She paused, a small thread of doubt entering her heart again. ‘Do you mind?’ Perhaps the controlling Southern woman didn’t appreciate being manipulated, just as Janice didn’t.

Mel placed her soft hand over the top of Janice’s and the archaeologist felt her heart leap into her mouth at the touch.

‘Not one bit.’ Mel replied.

The two women sat in silence for what could have been seconds or hours, time suddenly didn’t exist for the two of them. Janice was concentrating on getting her heart to stop hammering in her chest at the feel of Mel’s hand not leaving hers. Her mouth had gone dry and she could feel sweat forming on every part of her body at the contact from the Southern woman. This was no time to lose control, thought the archaeologist and was relieved when Betsy quietly entered the room with their entrées, causing Mel to retrieve her hand from atop Janice’s, although the blonde woman missed its touch instantly.

 

They didn’t talk much through their meal. It was one of those occasions when you can be perfectly at ease with someone the need for speech is irrelevant. It was enough for them both to enjoy the magnificent food Betsy had prepared, and gaze adoringly at each other. Several times Melinda wondered if she should interject a topic to the table, but she realised that there was only one thing she wanted to talk about, and for that conversation she didn’t quite have the courage to start. Although another glass of wine to go with the two she’d already had that evening might loosen her up enough to just pin Janice to the table between them and obliterate words completely.

The housekeeper brought in desert and just like the times before didn’t break the silent spell that was weaving between the two young women. She glanced fondly on her precious Mel making eyes at Janice and wondered when the Yankee would get around to putting them both out of their misery. Considering it had taken them both a year to get as far as a first date, if you didn’t count the cocktail party that by all accounts hadn’t been the resounding success tonight’s dinner was turning out to be, then perhaps Janice was still unsure of how to approach Melinda. Old compassionate eyes caught Janice’s gaze when she placed the desert in front of her and urged her on with a single glance. Janice’s greens responded with ‘I’m trying’, and the old woman smiled down at her knowing that was the truth. Well she’d done all she could do for the night at least, as she cleared their dinner plates away. Now it was up to the two of them, thought Betsy as she just as quietly left the dining room, closing the door behind her and ushering Dite away from scratching at the entrance.

‘I don’t think you can help this time dear.’ Betsy caught herself talking to Mel’s intuitive dog and shook her head at the absurdity. Must be catching, she thought making her way to the kitchen, and then home. Leaving behind a blossoming love that she hoped by morning would be in full technicolour bloom.

**********

Just tell her goddamnit, the archaeologist admonished.

Green eyes caught the gazing look of her friend once more and what was about to escape her lips lost its way again. Janice took another deep sip from her wine glass, wondering when talking to the Southerner had become so difficult.

Mel’s thoughts were on a similar track. They’d finished desert and wallowed in the afterglow of such a wonderful meal, in such wonderful company but now tension seemed to have invaded the air between them. Melinda had been wined and dined like this before, though with never as much thought as the personal touches Janice had created for her. Usually by the time desert had been delivered they’d had the discussion which would always leave the young gentleman Mel was with heartbroken, having been turned down gracefully, but turned down all the same. Things obviously weren’t the same with Janice however, she thought as yet again she saw the blonde woman open her mouth to speak then turn to her glass for more wine instead.

She heaved a quiet sigh, wondering if she could break years of Southern grooming and be the first one to admit how she feels with the person she loved.

Just tell me Janice, Southern thought pleaded.

Both women laughed as they started to speak at the same time.

‘You first…’ offered Janice.

‘No please, go ahead.’ Mel replied, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

The archaeologist smiled, not really relieved that Mel was letting her go first.

‘I was just going to say…that is I haven’t said….what I mean is…’ Janice frowned at herself for losing the ability to speak.

Blue eyes looked on her compassionately, and yet again Mel leaned in to place a warm hand over the archaeologist’s.

‘Yes?’

Janice locked her eyes with the blue of Melinda’s.

‘You look beautiful tonight.’ It was a breathless whisper, but least it was a start.

Mel’s heart soared to new heights, even though it wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped the blonde woman would say she took it as a good sign. She smiled warmly at her friend, remembering how she’d reacted to a similar compliment from the archaeologist just last night; Mel was determined to not make the same mistake again by saying the wrong thing.

‘So do you.’ She responded, catching the blonde woman off guard a little. Janice had never been called beautiful before, at least not since Harry had been gone. She never thought of herself as beautiful, or even that attractive, knowing that women were supposed to be all skirts and high heels, painted faces and fancy hair. With her often-unkempt hair, scruffy trousers and cigar smoking, Janice never considered she could be seen as anything other than a female oddity.

The puzzled quirk of her light brows told Mel what she was thinking, and the Southerner interjected again.

‘You are beautiful you know Janice.’ Mel let her thumb run gently over the top of Janice’s knuckles, making the blonde woman’s pulse race and desire to begin to surface in more intimate parts of her body.

Since when had Mel become so bold, Janice thought as she quickly found herself swimming in a kind of daze at the Southerner’s actions. She looked back to eyes that were sincere and offered a shy smile in return. Mel responded with a small smile of her own, but didn’t take her hand away from Janice’s as silence drifted between them again.

The moment was almost too perfect to ruin it with words, yet Janice knew now was the time. She swept aside the fear, the doubts and her unaccustomed shyness at the Southerner’s remarks, to let only one thought enter her heart. She loved the woman sat next to her, with an all-consuming passion, and now was the time to tell her.

Confident green eyes searched for the blue of before. Suddenly Janice felt more herself again, felt her courage come back to confess her soul the way it had sprung up in her the previous night, before Mel left her room. She smiled at the raven-haired woman, who’s gaze once again held anticipation.

‘Melinda I’ve been in love with you ever since I met first met you.’ Janice took the hand that lay on top of her own and clasped it between her own palms. ‘I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want to hide it anymore. I love you.’

She saw the blue eyes before her mist over with tears, and for a brief moment Janice thought all the advice she’d been given that day to open up her heart to Melinda had been a cruel joke. Then just as quickly as this inane thought struck her it was replaced with relief when the Southern woman smiled back at her, tears of joy not disgust gently falling on her cheeks.

‘Oh Janice, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that. I love you too.’

Mel took one of the hands that were holding hers and brought it up to rest against her face, kissing it softly as she did. Janice curled her hand so it cupped the side of Mel’s face, wiping the stray tears away with a dry thumb. The ache in her heart that had felt so deep and threatening over the past week suddenly lessened when she heard Mel say the words she’d always wanted to hear fall from Southern lips. Lips that looked very much in need of a kiss, the blonde woman thought when Mel blinked away the last of her tears and looked at her through lidded eyes, the desire in them unmistakable.

Janice lent in further, even though the space between them was almost non existent since she’d first taken Mel’s hand in her own, and now she was so close she could feel Mel’s breath against her face come in short, deep bursts. It mirrored the beating of her own heart pumping blood around her veins so fast she felt that it would explode out of her at any minute. The anticipation of sharing that first lovers kiss was making both women light headed. Breath quickened, hands and other less visible places grew moist, eyes that wanted to stay open to see their love insisted on closing to enjoy the sensation even more. Janice ran a thumb over Mel’s full red lips and the Southerner let out a breathless moan. Mel brought up her own hand to caress Janice’s face, and the archaeologist couldn’t help but curl into the touch, delaying their kiss further. Time stood still again as both women were caught in the not knowing of when their lips would meet. It felt like a day had passed in the few seconds it actually took for Janice to extend her other hand to bring Mel’s face the last few inches closer to her own. Opening her green eyes just briefly to make sure this was what Melinda wanted, Janice was denied the beauty of sapphire blues as Melinda waited for her soulmate to kiss her.

Then it happened. The slightest touch of soft lips. The barest contact because Janice didn’t want to rush things. But in the moment that their lips met for the first time, Melinda felt like she’d suddenly found what she hadn’t realised she’d been missing her whole life. And she knew that she’d remember this moment forever. It was etched into her heart and she knew it could never be erased with further kisses, however much she was looking forward to them, for this had been perfect. The shy way Janice touched her lips to her own, as if it were the smaller one who hadn’t done this before not the other way around. The slight pressure of the hands on her cheeks, holding her with a gentle reverence, the way she could hear Janice’s breath become as labored as her own just before she lent in. Most of all what Melinda thought she’d remember the most when she looked back on this day, old and grey with a few grandchildren gazing up at her listening to the story of their grannies falling in love, was the way Janice looked at her when they broke their intimate hold and opened their eyes. Mel saw in eyes of green such a satisfied, serene look filled with love, and worship it almost made the emotional woman cry again. To know just by looking at her that Janice felt as equally blessed to have shared such a soul caressing kiss was a moment Mel wanted to keep locked inside her for the rest of her days.

A shy smile curled to Southern lips as she felt Janice’s unwavering gaze upon her. If the archaeologist expected her to be able to speak after having her heart’s desire fulfilled, then she had a lot to still learn about the Southern lady. All Mel could think about was getting back to the lips before her, and linger there for an eternity.

With this in mind she moved in closer, and the cautious look that accompanied the retreating form of Janice leaning away from her made Mel sit up with surprise, her heart once again a tangle mess of emotions.

‘Janice what is it?’

God please don’t let her regret this, Mel silently implored.

Janice looked away from concerned blue eyes down to the hands that were still entwined. Everything up till now had been perfect, the archaeologist mused. How could she ruin things now? But she knew if she wanted a future with Mel she needed to tell her the truth, and that meant not taking advantage of a clearly willing Mel with more kisses.

She took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the beautiful face before her. She found Mel staring at her, tears glistening her eyes and a dejected look across her perfect features. Oh hell, Janice thought, already off to a bad start. Janice had to placate the look she was being given, if only for her own sake, when she knew she’d be receiving worse looks should Mel take her news the way her heart feared she would.

The small woman tightened the hold she had on Mel’s delicate hands, wanting so much to return to the blissful content of moments before. She fought against every urge in her body that was telling her to take Mel in her arms and sear their hearts together with a passionate kiss. Instead both women would have to be satisfied with just words for now.

‘Look Mel, I wouldn’t have told you I love you if I didn’t mean it. Please believe me.’

Janice looked directly at the woman before her, urging her with her eyes.

Mel was still confused, but she had to believe what Janice said, the alternative was just too horrific to think about. She nodded her head, not daring to voice her fears, just like before tonight she’d not dared to voice her hope.

Encouraged, Janice took a deep breath, knowing this would be difficult for her to explain and probably more difficult for Melinda to hear. But she needs to know, she thought. Never letting go of the hands that fitted perfectly with her own, Janice slowly began.

‘I’m in trouble Mel. At least I could be.’ She looked up to see if Melinda would interrupt, but she just sat frozen, her face a mix of emotions. Janice didn’t allow herself to contemplate what those emotions were right now, instead she continued in that firm, determined voice of hers.

‘The reason why it’s taken me so long to tell you I love you is because I’ve been living with someone for the past three years.’ The hurt in the eyes before her was unmistakable and Janice couldn’t bear to look at it. She lowered her eyes to the hands on the table, figuring if she could get through telling Mel without the Southern hands retreating from hers then there was a hope this would work out with Mel.

‘We met at a difficult time for me. Harry had just gone and died on me, leaving me with a load of debts and other mess to sort out. I was a wreck, and then Cal came along. And for awhile everything was alright again. She seemed to make everything alright.’ Janice paused again, remembering the brief time she’d been happy with someone who wasn’t Mel, and recalling how all that had gone so painfully wrong. She suppressed a shudder that she always felt when ever she thought of the night she was about to describe to Mel.

‘One night, we were on our way home from one of the women only bars in New York, and this man out of nowhere came up to us and started making trouble. It was the usual kind, you half expect it living where we did in the city and I told Cal to just leave it. I was mad as hell myself, but if Harry taught me one thing, it was to know how to pick your fights and this asshole just wasn’t worth it. But Cal had a little too much to drink that night, and well things got out of hand, a knife got pulled and the next thing I know this guy is laying on the ground in a pool of blood, and Cal’s crying at me hysterically with a bloody knife in her hands….’

Janice stopped and took a deep breath. She’d only told one other person that, and her body reacted the same way as now, when she’d sat down with the old Southern woman that day. Her stomach turned, and tears threatened her eyes, reliving the moment in her mind, hearing Cal’s scream as clearly as if it just happened. As she had that morning, she closed her eyes to the pain and as she did so Mel turned her hands around in Janice’s so she was the one now offering support, with a firm squeeze. Although Janice still couldn’t face the eyes of her friend, she fed off the strength that was coming from the gesture of their entwined hands.

‘I knew that if the cops came and found us Cal wouldn’t stand a chance. Sure, it had been self-defense but what jury in the world wouldn’t convict a "deviant" who’d been drinking all evening and killed someone in cold blood. So I helped hide her tracks, hiding my own too I guess. No one else had been there when it happened, and I couldn’t find any I.D. on this guy when I checked, so chances are he was a nobody. There’s lots of those in New York to. I figured the cops wouldn’t care that much and Cal and I tried to get on with our lives. But things were never the same after that….’ The archaeologist broke off, remembering the drinking, the fights.

‘I stayed with her because I figured I owed her. And when that wasn’t enough of a reason, I stayed because where else did I have to go? As she kept throwing back at me, who was going to take me on board knowing I’d helped cover up a murder? So I stayed for all the wrong reasons, and resigned myself to staying with her no matter how hard it got.’

Janice let out a deep, tired breath. It had been easy to say in the end. The weight that suddenly lifted from her heart, making her whole body feel lighter, made her wonder why she’d worried so much in the first place. Or why she hadn’t told Mel sooner. Comforting hands were still soothing her own, and she dared to look in the cerulean blue before her.

Mel’s eyes were brimmed with tears, a stray few streaking her cheeks. She was battling with herself to keep control, for her love’s sake more than her own but there was a sudden ache in her heart that outstripped all the despair she’d been in before she knew Janice returned her feelings. Her mind was racing between jealously and loathing of a woman she only knew existed minutes before now. Jealous because this woman had shared Janice’s life with her before Melinda came along and found her precious archaeologist; loathing because that same woman had kept Janice trapped in a relationship that the blonde woman obviously felt obliged to be in.

A thought struck the tearful woman then that tore at her very soul.

Did Janice still love this woman?

Fighting with every last bit of restraint she had to keep the tears inside so she could ask Janice a question she dreaded hearing the answer to, Mel cleared her voice though it still cracked a little when she spoke.

‘Do you still love her?’

Janice blinked at the question; incredulous that Mel even had to ask. But then she realised she’d left her story only half finished, so exhausting it had been to go through. And Mel still needed reassurance from the smaller woman. She squeezed the hands in hers and this time kept her gaze firmly on the woman sat opposite her when she spoke.

‘I don’t think I ever loved her Mel. There is only one woman that has captured my heart so completely, and I met her on a dig site in Macedonia last year.’

Janice offered a hopeful smile with her words, and seeing the love show in the emerald greens before her Mel gave up all chance of keeping the tears in. She bowed her head, and sobbed. But this time the tears weren’t out of despair, or pain or frustration. They were tears of pure joy, and when she felt Janice come and stand by her, drawing comforting arms around her shoulders, Mel smiled into the tears that fell. It’s a strange sensation to be so happy yet be able to cry so hard. The Southern lady couldn’t understand why the tears wouldn’t stop, nor could Yankee thought above her comprehend why Mel was crying. But for now the two women didn’t think about the whys, they just moved into an embrace, Mel slipping her arms around the petite waist of her love and holding on with all her strength, Janice stroking the nape of Mel’s pale neck and letting her hands rub soothingly across sculpted shoulders.

Quicker than she’d managed to get the tears that had fallen with Reggie that afternoon under control, Mel felt the last of her tears fall. Janice heard the sound of her love’s breathing calm down and moved a little away from her so she could gaze down at her, a dry thumb again moving to a tear stained cheek.

‘Do you feel better now?’ She asked in a soothing voice.

The Southerner nodded, turning into the gentle touch.

‘I’m so sorry Melinda that I didn’t tell you sooner.’ The archaeologist blurted out, unsure still of what made Mel cry so much. ‘Everything has been such a mess this past week, and I didn’t want to make it worse by….’ Janice stopped suddenly, unable to voice the fears she’d had that the Southern woman, who was still holding her in her arms, would not return the love Janice wanted to lavish on her.

Mel looked up to worried green eyes, a question reflected in her own eyes at the archaeologist’s sudden reticence.

‘Make it worse by?’ Mel urged, not aware she was holding her breath for the blonde woman to speak again.

Janice closed her eyes as she felt a wave of the fear, which had been torturing her ever since the last blazing row she’d had with Cal in New York, hit her like a giant tide from some angry ocean.

Can it only have been days ago when she was stood facing her old lover?

Recriminations and abuse flying back and forth, Cal throwing everything she could get her hands on at the retreating form of the archaeologist, stuffing all that she’d need in her bag so she could leave the home she’d begun to see as her prison. And when Cal couldn’t hurt Janice with the bottles she was throwing, the picture frames, or even the lamp that had been deflected with a strong arm, Cal chose a more lethal weapon. One that held power over the archaeologist like none other could.

Standing in Mel’s comforting embrace Janice felt her own tears force themselves out of her as she thought of Cal’s angry face, her words cutting like a knife.

‘Do you think your precious Southern belle will want you after what you did? Do you honestly believe she could love a woman like you? I mean, look at you? She doesn’t want you in her life, you hardly fit in with the social set of the Deep South my dear.’

‘You don’t know anything Cal! You never have.’

‘Oh really? Well how about this my love. If you go to her I shall make sure it doesn’t last.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘If you walk out on me for that bitch I’ll go to the police, I’ll tell them everything. Just how long do you think she’ll stand by you when she finds out what you’ve done my dear?’

 

The restrained wail of pain and tears that came forth from the figure standing above her spurred Mel into a role she’d let Janice take on before now. Standing as gently as possible, so not to dislodge the woman that was now holding on to her as tight as if Mel was the only thing that was keeping her afloat in a sea of pain, the Southern woman became protector as she wrapped her long arms around Janice, soothing tears away that she never knew were inside the stoic archaeologist.

Janice responded to the embrace. Let the arms of the woman she’d loved since the first moment she’d laid eyes on her comfort her, like no other had before. She buried her face in Mel’s chest, drenching the exposed skin with her tears. God it felt good to let go like this. She’d forgotten how long it had been since she’d let someone see her so vulnerable, or even if she’d ever allowed anyone to see her with her guard so completely down. It made the blonde woman cry even more when she realised that for the first time in her life she had someone to protect her. Someone to share the pain with, and let ease the ache.

Mel hadn’t run. It was the only thought Janice could make out clearly in her head. Mel hadn’t run away from her like Cal said she would, like her own fears told her she would. Instead she’d offered the comfort Janice had been missing her entire life. And she knew that Mel would always be there for her. Would always be ready with a comforting embrace when things got too much for the archaeologist. Would never turn her back on her no matter how hard things got. Simply put, Mel loved her. She had found her soulmate after searching, and floundering for so long. And now that she had, Janice didn’t ever want to let her go.

She raised her head, through her own tears she could see that Mel had been crying along with her, quiet muted tears that had left the gentlest of trails down her sculpted cheeks. She raised a shaky hand to the face looking down on her with compassion, and sorrow but most of all, love. Janice felt her tears slowing down as she concentrated on the love that she saw reflected in clear blue eyes. Love that she returned with equal abandon by bringing Mel’s face down to her own, placing a nervous, needful kiss to Southern lips.

And if Janice still held the smallest thread of doubt what Mel for her it was swept away as she felt the translator return her kiss with a need that was all her own. The Southern woman responded not with caution, or uncertainty but with a passion that had been kept bottled up all the months she’d known the woman that was still crying in her arms. She reached up her hands, cupped them to the face she’d dreamed of night after night and held Janice to her, pressing their lips so tightly together it was if they melded into one. It was a kiss that was born out of need. The need of the taller one to take away all the pain Janice was in, and for the small woman the need to feel everything would be alright if she could just feel her love’s lips touch her own.

It was fast and hard, wet then soft. Tears from emerald green eyes washing over it, cleansing all the pain away. Urgency when Janice felt she couldn’t stand any longer from the passion that was building, and brought her own hands up to cling onto the bare neck of her partner, as she crashed her lips to hers again, bruising the tender flesh. It lasted forever, yet it felt like it was over so soon. And when their lips did separate, much from the need to let air into their lungs than any other reason, Southern desire couldn’t help from wanting to return to a place she now thought of as her own, and Mel leaned in again with force. Knocking Janice back a little against the edge of the table, causing a sensual moan to fall from the blonde woman.

When the crying had stopped, she didn’t know. When the ache in her heart disappeared, she couldn’t tell. All Janice knew was the desire that was growing inside her at the un-inhibited actions of the woman she thought she’d have to lead. Her whole body was on fire with heat from Mel’s lips. It was as if she’d poured molten lava inside her mouth when she felt the questing tongue, and now that lava was trailing a path of erotic devastation through her, culminating in a pool of slick heat between her legs. Her mind was screaming for her to slow down, to make sure the Southerner really knew what she was doing. But as Janice moved her hands from Mel’s neck, they fell naturally to the side of her body, to the swell of breasts that were heaving erratically with Mel’s labored breath. Once there, Janice lost all chance of slowing things down as Mel responded to the feel of a hand on her satin covered flesh with a moan as deep as the ocean and another urgent quest of her mouth.

Lady-like Southern behavior didn’t have a hope in hell’s chance of getting through Melinda’s bank of desire. Even though she was new to this, and didn’t really know what she was doing when truth be told, Mel just let instinct take over the minute she’d felt Janice’s lips touch her own for the second time that evening. And she found that instinct knew exactly what she wanted to do, and how to do it. She wanted to possess Janice with her kisses, wanted to devour her almost, the need and lust she felt was so great. If before now Melinda had been sheltered and innocent when it came to kissing, she was making up for it by the way she pressed her body into the length of the woman pinned between her and the table. Her lips not content with slow sensuous kisses but ones of urgency and need, hands that caressed flushed cheeks then raked through soft blonde tresses. Hips that seemed to have started up a movement all their own, pressing into the smaller woman, causing Mel to feel a wetness in her sex she only remembered from the more lucid dreams she’d had of her love.

A wine glass toppled over on the table as Janice flung her hand back at the latest onslaught of Southern kisses now roaming her neck, and the sharp ringing of glass shattering on the bare wooden floor finally broke the intensity between them.

Mel pulled back a little, her breath fast and gasping. She could feel the weight of her hair coming from her clasp and knew the perfect style Reggie had wanted her to attain was now in disarray.

Janice breathed just as quickly, sweaty blonde bangs stuck to her forehead and her hands didn’t seem to want to leave the sides of the firm body before her.

They both looked away from the piercing gaze they’d been locked in as soon as they’d opened their eyes down to the floor and the smashed glass.

Janice was the one who found her voice first.

‘I hope it wasn’t an heirloom.’ She sounded husky, her deep voice just above a loud whisper.

Mel smiled a sensuous smile at her, curled slightly at the edges, which raised the now flushed cheekbones even higher.

‘Everything in this house is an heirloom darling.’ Mel’s accent took on a sexy quality as she spoke, one which the archaeologist decided she could listen to for hours.

Janice breathed in deeply as her next thought struck her. She looked back to blue eyes, seeing a passion building in them that would have probably reached a crescendo if it hadn’t been for their untimely interruption.

‘Then for the sake of your house Mel, we should take this upstairs.’

Melinda smiled in return. Wordlessly she took the hands from her sides, kissed them both tenderly never taking her piercing eyes from the face before her. Janice retrieved one hand and caressed the side of Mel’s face again, it was like she’d been doing it all her life. Mel took the hand that was left and enclosed it in her own much larger one, and led Janice away.

*********

They stood opposite each other, bathed in moonlight that was shining brilliantly through the window, illuminating them both as if it were a spotlight on an empty stage. Waiting for the first lines to a play neither woman had performed before, but by the look of desire mirrored in their eyes they both knew their lines by heart.

Mel had led them to Janice’s room, if this surprised the archaeologist she didn’t let it show as it dawned on her that it should be here where their bodies joined for the first time. She was a few feet away from the tall Southern woman. The bed that had always soothed her when she slept in it by herself was to their left, the resplendent tapestry of Athena looking over them as each waited in anticipation of what came next. Their earlier desire had not left them, but now burned more slowly between them. The intensity of what they felt in the dining room giving way to gentle excitement. When they kissed downstairs it was out of need and desperation, so powerful that neither took the time to think about their actions. But now they’d been able to quiet their beating hearts a little, take in air at a normal pace instead of the forceful breaths that came between hard kisses, both women were a little unsure of how to proceed.

Janice knew that the passion of earlier would return to them with the slightest brush of her lips against the Southerner’s, and as much as she wanted to fulfill that wish right then and there, she also wanted to take this slow. She wanted to enjoy just looking at the woman across from her, her shyness returned, her endearing naivety showing again in the cerulean blue. Janice wanted time to take in the fact that she was about to make love to Melinda Pappas, she wanted to remember the feeling of anticipation and joy that that thought gave her. The excitement, desire and physical longing she felt now, waiting to make love to the magnificent raven-haired woman who had haunted her like a benevolent ghost for the past year, was un-like any other time Janice had made love with a woman. And there hadn’t been that many women really to compare this too, but still this was different in some primal, universal way the archaeologist couldn’t understand. And she wanted to savour this moment, because she knew once her hands reached out to the body before her, caressed her the way Janice knows a woman’s body likes to be caressed, the way her own body likes to be caressed, she knew that the time for thought, and savoring the moment would be lost to the instincts of her body. Her mind would probably take days to catch up with what her body will feel when lips and hands and flesh meet in more intimate exchanges, so Janice remained just standing there, taking in the sight of her love, afraid to move incase Mel disappeared like a reflection on calm water flees with the ripple of a stone.

And what did Southern thought feel? Mel couldn’t begin to make her way through the endless paths her mind was on to put down her present state to any one feeling in particular. It was perfect and scary in the same moment. Exciting and daunting. Her earlier boldness had left her on the way up the stairs, and although she was sure it was waiting inside her somewhere, to leap out and take over like it had in the dining room, right now she couldn’t get her body to move under the adoring gaze of her love. She needed Janice to begin it. She was sure of that feeling, if no other. She may have been the one to lead them upstairs, bringing them to this point, but suddenly Mel knew she couldn’t go any further without her love leading the way. She just hoped it wouldn’t take much longer for Janice to pick up where they’d both left off, otherwise the Southern lady thought she might just scream at their inaction now they’d reached the safer confines of the bedroom.

As if Janice read this last thought, she moved closer to the tall woman and reached up to her hair that was still mostly held up in the ivory clasp. With a gentle hand she slipped the clasp open, letting the thick raven locks fall down over Mel’s luscious shoulders. The Southern lady closed her eyes at the feel of her soft hair brushing her bare skin, as if electricity was passing over the sensitive flesh. With one gentle flick of her head the kinks fell out, and she felt Janice’s green gaze once more appreciating her even though her eyes were still tightly shut.

Janice took in a gasp at the beauty before her and knew, like she had known downstairs when to confess her love, that this moment was too perfect to ruin it with words. So this time she didn’t.

Silently she tilted Mel’s face down to her own and kissed her. Not the passionate, desperate kisses of before, but a hushed, soft gesture that told the tall woman how much she was loved without Janice needing to utter a word.

And soon that reverent kiss wasn’t enough for either women. Janice moved her hands from Mel’s face and ran them through thick tresses, slipping over her shoulders every now and then, sending a shiver straight down Mel’s spine when she did. And the tall woman wasn’t content with her hands resting on narrow hips but found them wanting to explore Janice. They moved over a muscled back, clawing at the material of Janice’s shirt, down to firm buttocks she could feel through the restraint of Janice’s slacks. It was as if they suddenly had a mind of their own, and even if she’d wanted to control them Mel wouldn’t have been able to stop them in their journey over a body she’d wanted to feel for what felt like forever.

Their breathing grew hard again, the gasping for air as needful as it had been in the height of passion before. Added to it now was the light sheen of sweat that was building up on Mel’s exposed flesh, and the beads of sweat that Janice knew were hidden underneath her clothes. They needed to be naked, the archaeologist thought to herself, although it wasn’t so much a coherent thought as a stabbing need deep within her sex. Without breaking contact with Southern lips Janice reached her hands around Mel’s waist and trailed them up her back, desperately close as if she were trying to rip the dress from her rather than wait to unzip it. When she found what her questing hands were searching for she didn’t stumble once with the small, delicate clasp at the top of the dress, nor lose the tiny zip in her moist grasp as she descended Mel’s body once more, this time opening her naked flesh to the heated musky air of the room.

Taking the lead from her companion, just as Mel wanted it to be, Southern thought also wanted to get the body before her naked. But for Mel she was a little unsure how she was going get her shaking hands to cope with all the buttons to Janice’s shirt she’d admired so much before, but now thought what a ridiculous garment it was to wear in the bedroom.

She brought her hands around to slip in between their tightly pressed bodies, neither women able to part from the lips they’d both become addicted to. But instead of freeing Janice from her shirt, Mel’s hands had found the firm, round breasts she’d caught a glimpse of through wet cloth the previous night and once they’d found them they wanted to stay. Mel found her boldness return to her as she cupped the heaving breasts, caressing and squeezing through the strained cloth, forgetting completely about why her hands had moved from their contented place on Janice’s back now she’d found something that sent a burning arrow of desire straight to her sex.

The feel of herself being touched by innocent Southern hands caused Janice to groan into the mouth she was kissing, and finally she left the lips that felt like home to look at Mel’s face. Desire and surprise in her emerald gaze. Mel’s eyes looked hazy, not completely focusing on the green eyes looking into hers, the sapphire blue darkened a shade with the passion she was feeling. Her hands were still busy caressing Janice, but now stray fingers slipped through the gaps between the shirt buttons, and she felt a searing heat come off Janice’s flesh. Her fingertips that had been so bold tingled at the sensation of meeting flesh, and it was this which got Mel’s mind back in action to relieve Janice of her shirt once and for all. Only she didn’t think her body would wait for her mind to execute the action, so in a completely un-lady-like way Mel tore open the shirt Janice wore, buttons flying off and the motion of such force knocked Janice back a little on her heels.

Janice had a split second of thought, hey that was my best shirt, before she regained her advantage in this play Mel had taken the lead in again. She now stood bare to the waist, her shirt flung to the corner of the room by impatient Southern hands. Janice didn’t like the superior smirk Mel tried to hide across her features, though she did appreciate the way it melted away when Mel’s eyes suddenly found what her hands had been touching moments before. Well she wasn’t going to be the only one naked, that’s for sure. The archaeologist responded to Mel’s locked gaze on her chest with a quick swoop down on her knees, and a blonde head now blurred Mel’s line of vision. She had a moment of wondering what on earth Janice was doing kneeling on the floor before she felt a firm grip on the dress that was hanging down slightly anyway and in the time it takes to draw in a breath, Mel found herself standing practically naked, her panties still in place but a roving blonde doing her best to relieve her of those items too.

Then suddenly Mel was lying on the bed, her flesh untainted by anything other than an equally naked archaeologist, who was lavishing her with kisses and caresses of her hands.

Their flesh glistened with sweat, a light sheen that made it easier for bodies to slide together in a passionate embrace. Made it more sensuous when lips joined places hands had led before. Janice had Mel beneath her, teasing her lips with her own by placing the shortest of kisses, which Mel would moan at when they didn’t continue. Her hands found the Southern body willing to let her do anything she wanted to. She cupped a firm breast and squeezed the nipple hard, Mel arched into the touch letting out a small scream of pleasure. She moved her lips to Mel’s neck and sucked hard on the juncture of shoulder and pale neck, sure she would leave a mark when morning came but all Mel did was curl into the touch, gripping Janice’s moist back and digging her nails in at the sensation of pleasure and pain. She descended Mel’s body, leading the way with her hands and every where they had been Janice christened with a kiss that felt like fire against Mel’s already burning flesh.

When Janice’s questing hands finally reached the juncture of strong firm thighs she suddenly became weary, holding back in the patch of curls, daring to tease a little but needing some sort of reassurance from the woman beneath her before she continued on her journey. Mel felt the trembling hand upon her and opened eyes she hadn’t realised she’d been closing. When she did, she saw in the emerald eyes of her lover a question that she didn’t need to think twice about to answer.

They hadn’t exchanged any words since being in Janice’s room, they hadn’t needed words when it was clear what their bodies were saying to each other, locked in a conversation that pre-dated any language Mel could think of. But Mel wanted to voice this particular part of that exchange, because she wanted to hear herself say words aloud that she’d only ever said in her dreams.

She stroked the side of Janice’s face, already so known to her and smiled.

‘Touch me, Janice.’

The blonde woman saw a tear fall over on to Mel’s cheek and with a gentle kiss she wiped it away.

Speech had become irrelevant again. Words were dormant when she could say all she wanted to say in return to Mel’s plea with the movements of her hands.

She stayed by Mel’s face, wanting to be as close to lips that might cry out in the pain she could feel so she could soothe it quickly away with a kiss. Her hand that had waited patiently in dark curls began its journey again, this time slower than before, ready to pull back if anything seemed wrong, ready to go faster if everything seemed right.

Janice eased Mel’s legs apart gently with a knee, placing soft kisses whenever she could to reassure the Southerner. Mel’s arms found a place on Janice’s back just below muscled shoulders and that’s where she intended to keep them. At least that was the plan before she felt Janice’s strong fingers weave in between the folds of her sex, and Mel found her hands responding by clawing as hard as she dared at the flesh of Janice’s back. The blonde woman was tender at first, slipping stray fingers easily amongst the dripping wet lips, finding quickly an engorged bud that she willed herself to stay away from lest Mel came over to soon. She teased the opening of Mel’s sex, ran her fingers along the silken folds then back again. All the time gauging Mel’s reaction with kisses, and the how hard the Southern lady dug her nails in her back. Janice smiled when she realised that Mel liked being stroked near her bud the most, because that was the time Mel shot up a little off the bed to reach Janice’s lips in a fierce kiss, her hands remaining still for the first time on Janice’s criss-crossed back.

When the gentle strokes weren’t enough for either of them, when Mel’s need to feel Janice over her, inside her, enveloping her with her hands on her sex was too much too bare, when Janice knew that she’d have to give in to the instinct inside her that was telling her to take Mel, the two women fell naturally into a rhythm together. And they built up the wall of pleasure as one, reaching higher with each stroke of Janice’s fingers over Mel’s sex, each scratch Mel inflicted on Janice’s back, each time Janice rubbed her own wet mound on the knee Mel instinctively had raised beneath her. It was building at such a maddening slow pace, both women fought the urge to force it out of each other, Janice the more restrained because she knew this was all new to Mel and it was so easy to come quickly your first time. But Mel didn’t need much more encouraging; she could feel the tremors start off in her stomach like small sharp pleasurable stabs. At first it disturbed her, if she’d had rational thought right then she may have questioned Janice what it was she was feeling building up inside her, then it went up a notch, and instead of small tremors they were big quakes snaking out from a point where Janice’s fingertips were rubbing very quickly, and she felt her hips join in with the frantic movements, as if her body new what was happening even if her mind didn’t. Their bodies rocked together once Mel joined in the dance, and Janice had to keep all her concentration on the movements of her fingers on Mel’s tender flesh, for she could feel her own wall of pleasure begin to come down as she ground herself on Mel’s knee. She was determined to give Mel the rush of release before she sought her own.

Then it happened, she felt the body beneath her tense for a few seconds, then grind wildly against her hand that Janice just lay flat against Mel’s dripping sex. Then came a cry so unlike the demure Southern lady, she wondered where it came from. An undulating cry, in almost perfect key echoed out into the bedroom, and remained in the air for what felt like minutes. If Janice had the time to think about it she would have reasoned that when Mel climaxed she sounded more like a warrior going into battle than a sophisticated Southern lady, but Janice wasn’t thinking about anything. She was busy feeling her own climax of pleasure reach a pinnacle as Mel clutched at her back, and kept her knee slightly raised.

Instinct took over again for Mel and she wanted to cause in her lover what she’d just experienced at her skilled touch, and knowing that she was a quick study, a bold Southern hand reached between the patch of blonde hair that was dripping with slick moisture. It didn’t take much for the archaeologist to break. Just feeling Mel’s hand reach for her was almost enough, but the curious Southerner caught Janice’s equally engorged clit each time she rubbed along Janice’s sex and that proved the small woman’s trigger.

She slipped bonelessly on her lover beneath her, cries from the smaller woman not as dramatic or loud as those of her partner. She felt Mel’s comforting arms embrace her again and she shifted a little so she could rest her head on the larger woman’s shoulder. It was rare for Janice to be held in bed, and she wanted to enjoy it. Their breathing eventually quieted again and satisfied grins that were a mirror of each other began to surface.

Janice wondered if this was one of those moments that were too perfect for words. There were lots of things she wanted to say, but none of them felt quite right. Her thoughts were cut off when Mel was the first to find the strength to speak.

Her voice was sleepy, had that drunk afterglow inflection to it as she squeezed Janice tighter to her.

‘I love you Janice Covington.’

Janice realised sometimes there was a need for words.

‘I love you too Melinda Pappas.’

The two new lovers kissed goodnight then, as if they’d always gone to bed like this. The tall one sheltering the small woman in an embrace, blonde hair spread slightly over Mel’s chest, Janice’s face buried beneath the soft raven tresses of her partner. And both women knew that this would be how they always went to sleep from now on. In each other’s arms, where they belonged.

 

The End

To be continued hopefully!